#Sunny Lodge AU

[librarian-computer]

I’ve had something stuck in my for a long time and I’m finally going to do it. Fazbear and the Creator has taken up a lot of this region of the country (whatever area tSaMs takes place). Almost everything is animatronics, and humans are on the bottom of the food chain.

What brought this au on? Listening to music ofc

So every member in the family has spiraled in some way and are all serial killers in their own right and murder any humans they can, whether it’s in sight or they play with the human.

Naming off some ones I have so far:

Nexus. Mad scientist, blatant murderer, uses technological weapons.

Moon. Regular scientist, subtle, poisons victims or uses chloroform and murders them then to make as less of a mess as possible

Sun. Daycare attendant, very subtle, refuses to kill children, will murder adults- but never in front of children- murders in secret

Lunar. Candy shop, executor, will have human sacrifices brought to him for him to electrocute until death.

Earth. Salon, blatant murderer, hair stylist that will listen to you yap but if you annoy her she’ll use her scissors to lodge them into your skull. She gets annoyed easily.

Ruin. Theatre, fruity performer that will have volunteers come up onto the stage for a ‘play’ and murder them in front of the audience. Uses a Kris dagger to murder.

Eclipse. Rogue, he prefers to constantly move and never stays in one place, murders in secret. Drags victims off of the street into secluded alleyways and will murder them there. Will use knives of all kinds.

Jack and Dazzle. Scouts. The only two that will not murder. Jack will if necessary and if necessary only. Jack will use his dagger hands.

Glamrocks. Respective jobs to due with instruments, doesn’t murder often, but Monty has murdered the most out of the four. Murders with teeth and claws.

Sunny, Solar’s Sun. Attraction at a haunted house, won’t kill but will lead victims to Moonrise to be killed.

Moonrise, Solar’s Moon. Attraction at haunted house, blatant murderer, murders anyone lead to him by Sunny. He will murder using his teeth and claws

Solar. Butcher. Blatant murderer+cannibal, will try to feed someone human meat, will jump the counter and chop you to pieces. His basement is filled with hanging meats of all kinds, the freezer empty including human meat. Some fresh, non skinned and diced human carcasses will hang on ropes from the ceiling as well. He will use a chainsaw, butchers knife, or a two tonged pitchfork. Hide your kids, he eats them too.

Killcode. Blatant murderer, he just roams around murdering anyone in the streets. Tall murder machine with big and sharp teeth and Edward scissor hand ahh claws.

Bloodmoon. Blatant murderers, they are hitmen that will murder other humans for humans. But you must wear something red for them to even consider you a client. So if you want to kill someone specifically, wear a red shirt :) they have claws and teeth.

Probably a couple of ocs.

Still working on the structure. But I think I’ve got the basic stuff

Let me know if y’all are interested in seeing something for it :)

[infinite-hearts-333]

RECONNECT.

Au belongs to @onyxonline

Other credits: @north-heats-stronghold , @novalizinpeace , @fandomssvetlanafrom

Everything hurt.

The last fleeting memories in Thorns mind were a mixture of terror, pain, and anger.

Thorn wasn’t one to get mad.

It came back a little slow- a little to slow for their comfort, North Heat, Sunny Yolk, Sparky-

They had peer pressured them into sharing their power-

Oh.

Oh no.

Thorn felt a new surge of emotion, mainly an overwhelming sense of panic that caused their scales to sharpen and prickle.

They tried to open their mouth, to yell, to call out in this insufferable consuming darkness, but no noise came out.

They stumbled a little, almost choking as claws came to their throat, trying to figure out why it was that they couldn’t speak.

Or see. Muttered a soft voice in the back of their brain. Or hear, at least at our normal level.

What was this? Thorn didn’t retain the memories of the Beast- just panicked flickers of emotion and pain, what was it, that infernal creature had done that caused this??

Was this a punishment???

Were the Riders behind this?

Did they think that Thorn was too dangerous?

Did North agree to this?

Did Sunny?

A flicker of an image, that sweet, sweet Pegasus with a smile that had completely changed Thorn’s life. Maybe Sunny Yolk didn’t think so, but Thorn definitely saw him as their best friend.

The idea that Sunny had agreed to lock Thorn away like this nearly shattered their heart.

But maybe, if Sunny had thought this was the only choice, it was for the best..

The silence was so loud it was nearly ringing as Thorn curled up, feeling the burning ache of betrayal once more.

They were still for a long time.

The type of long time that makes your joints groan and pop when you move them again, they type that make your head spin when you stand too fast.

Were they even crying any more?

Did it even matter?

A gentle huff, a almost soft croon that reminded Thorn of a time when things were still hard, but there weren't so many emotions.

They lifted their head numbly, blinking and wincing at the bright light from the creature in front of them. They blinked, eyes slowly focusing, before a trembling fury filled the lizard. The Beast laid curled around Thorn, cooing gently as it pulled its host from their constant spiral.

You.

Thorn bared their teeth and snarled, despite the fact that no noise filled the air, prickling their scales out in distaste.

Thorn didn’t get mad often.

But right now, Thorn wanted nothing more than the Beast’s head on a pike, even if that meant they went down with it.

The Beast cocked its head softly, cooing genty, before it shifted, coming to a slow stand.

Thorn growling spluttered a little as their eyes spotted the veins of burning red coiling from a arrow head lodged in the Beast's leg.

Thorn stared, stunned, before looking down at their own leg. Sure enough, from that tiny star burst scar that had haunted them for so long, sickly long lines of red curled up their thigh and calf.

Oh.

Oh….

You never meant to hurt them.

Thorn looked up at the Beast, taking a slow step forward. The Beast snorted, and limped away, leaving Thorn to follow.

You were just trying to help, weren’t you?

Thorn huffed, and smiled, just a little.

“And I know how to help you, too, now.”

——————————————————————————

It has been nearly a week after the accident with the Beast. It was left to slumber in the gym, as there was no way to manually move a creature of its size- and kept under monitoring to ensure that if it did wake mad- that Thorn was long gone- they were ready for it.

During the time of it being in a coma, North Heat, ridden in guilt that half of this was his doing- having pushed Thorn to share their power and put his life, his crews, and Thorns, at risk. His snapped horn is now a reminded of his flaw.

During the week he spent fighting with the other crew leaders as a voice for Thorn’s true intentions, as the question of what to do with the lizard circulates the base.

[kalak]

Cinderella au where Luke gets hired in the imperial palace after he was orphaned and ran away.

He ends up as a servant in the imperial palace by some luck (he unconsciously mind tricked the hiring manager) and he has to do menial chores/clean up after the nobility - he quickly wins the heart of the other maids and cooks and servants with his politeness and sunny disposition. They always give him extra food when he stops by at the kitchen, ruffling his hair along the way.

But then - Vader stops by at the palace, and they draw a straw to decide the servant that's allocated to him, and Luke ends up drawing the short straw. (was it rigged? Maybe. Luke was small and easy to pick on after all)

And Luke's scared at first, thinking for sure that he would die, but Vader seems to be oddly warm.. and not that hostile (he reminds Vader of padme). Still, all the other maids are scared to death for him, gossiping about how Vader could kill without even touching someone, about how he could read people's minds and didn't like lying - people treat him like he's a dead man walking, pitying glances thrown his way.

Luke's resigns himself to one day being choked to death by Vader for some miniscule slip up, but until then, he's going to enjoy life to the fullest. So that's how, when given the opportunity to sneak into the imperial ball as a noble, Luke takes it - taking on the facade of luke naberrie, son of padme naberrie.. (she's dead, no one would check, surely? And she's from an obscure enough house!)

At the ball, Luke has the time of his life tasting all the fancy delicacies and watching the dazzling dresses move with the orchestra's music. Of course, Vader happens to overhear his name and instantly whips around to see who it is, but Luke's already gone, drawn by the chocolate fondue.

Vader spends the entire ball searching for him, but .. no luck, only thing he could find is a coat that Luke shucked off when things got too hot, with some odds and ends inside.

There's a japor snippet (this proves luke's heritage, to Vader. This is his son without a doubt), some mechanic parts (Vader smiles at the thought of his son also liking tinkering), a letter, scrawled to... Leia organa. It's not finished so there's no sign off, but he sees the dear leia at the top - and who else has that name?

So that's how leia has to deal with a sudden vader who barges into her lodgings at the palace, interrogating her about the letter. She recognizes it immediately as luke's, but she denies any knowledge out of fear that Vader will do Luke harm. Still, she lets slip the fact that the flimsi is from the servant's quarters .. and that's all vader needs to know.

All vader has to do now is match the coat to its owner and luke's so small, there's no way another man fits the coat - and that's how Vader finds his son.

[trans-pickles]

can't get the thought of a kierthur vdl!kieran au out of my head and i'm burdening you all with the forbidden knowledge now

the teeny-tiny gang, comprised only of dutch, hosea, susan, arthur, john, tilly, and uncle (oh, and copper of course) has no choice but to enter a tenuous but necessary truce with the far larger o'driscolls

the law is on both their tails and they're in for a cold, long winter

dutch used to run with colm when he was younger. he doesn't talk about it beyond strict warnings to tilly and his boys to know what kind of man colm is, truce or no truce

arthur, freshly nineteen, doesn't feel much like socializing with anyone

he thought it would be a grand romantic gesture, giving mary his mother's ring and asking to run away together

in the end it had been pathetic, just like their relationship (at least from his perspective. we up self hating.) him, throwing himself at her feet. her, overwhelmed by the intensity this carefree cowboy is suddenly showing, still bound to her family both by honor and love

he wants to hate her. it would be easy to hate her. but by god he can't, not with the way she pushed the ring back into his hands and wept and embraced him the last time

so without anything to hate but himself and dutch and hosea's bickering he continues through the blizzard to the dilapidated hunting lodge where colm and his boys are holed up

introductions are useless, of course to colm he's a disposable gun for hire. all he does is wave him off to his skittery, good-for-nothing stablehand.

for an o'driscoll, the boy's hands are gentle. he avoids eye contact with arthur but his nerves belie a deep understanding of horses

boadicea, just as headstrong as her rider, somehow allows him to undo her bridle. his actions are soft but firm.

enough tenderness to show he's not a threat, with the sureness to show he's ultimately the one in control

arthur watches him. maybe he isn't blown away, but he's pleasantly surprised not to have to yell at some blockhead o'driscoll for mishandling his horse, or worse yet have to stop boadicea from trampling him

when the boy finishes arthur realizes he wasn't even told a name. he has to pry it out of the boy - it's kieran. kieran duffy.

kieran's fine sleeping in the stables, he says. the horses keep him warm. arthur remembers dutch telling him that the o'driscolls "ain't like us, son" and awkwardly says that he's free to use boadicea's blanket if the cold gets to him

kieran smiles for the first time. he thanks arthur. tells him, a little nervously, that his horse is a "beautiful animal, mister"

arthur laughs, tells him not to call him "mister", why kieran must be barely even younger than he is

"okay then, mister arthur"

"well i guess this is good night, mister kieran"

kieran looks confused before realizing it's a joke. and not even one at his expense! he grins a big dopey sunny grin, arthur thinks of mary, of drunken rendezvous with other farmhands in bars across the states after heartbreaks like this tips his worn-out hat, and starts to make his bed in the hay

arthur's glad to see him grab the blanket before he turns around to leave for his own quarters

he might not be as hard up for company as he thought here

[sleepingsongbird]

Alrighty so I’m finally getting around to writing some modern au One Piece fic so I figured I should probably share some background for it!

Everything is set in one giant city and I have put way too much thought into this

City is roughly split up between the “four emperors”

The Grand Line(NE-SW) is the main commercial street that runs through the center of the city where every large group has a front. It intersects Red Street(NW-SE) which divides the territories. The Hospital sits at the East corner of where the Grand line and red street intersect.

Big mom’s pastries

The Red Force bar - cocktail bar

Kids repair shop

The Amazon Lily - Boa Hancock’s strip club

Rayleigh is a legal consultant and the only piece of neutral territory on the grand line

Marinefold- the Town hall sits dead center of Red street

Lodge square - located in the center in front of city hall

Pacifista church - run by Kuma, large mega church

Etc.

The Heart territory is a couple blocks in the East side that spans from Law’s apartment to the employee entrance of the hospital

All of the Hearts work either at the hospital or the Heart Club

Hearts are highly territorial despite being in Red Hairs area

The Hearts have tattoos but no markings on their medical uniforms

The large hospital where Law works is neutral territory and pretty much every doctor/surgeon there is affiliated with a group

The white coats of the doctors each have the symbol of their affiliated group embroidered with white thread. Each major group has at least one doctor that is deemed safe to go to

Kaido is a Yakuza group and Kin'emon’s group is the remnants of the Kozuki clan that are trying to retake the territory

East side is Red Hair

Locations-

Baratie- restaurant Sanji works at and common meeting place of the Straw Hats

Water 7- Large mechanic shop, Franky uses one of the workshops there for personal projects and to repair their Van(The Sunny)

The Heart Club- A below ground nightclub owned by Law

Patty’s bar- Run by Makino and frequented by Shanks

Mihawk’s Dojo- Zoro frequently trains there

Elegia recordings - Run by Shanks and started to Publish his daughter’s music

Uta started as a streamer then starting doing live performances once her popularity grew, she is often out of the city on tour

She is a very active protester and has been arrested multiple times

Soul KIng - Music supply shop owned by brook

Brook who was a famous musician who faked his death and moved into town to avoid the publicity (still very recognizable)

The straw hats live friends style with 3 apartments on the same floor. They are the local menaces and are constant up in everyone’s business

North Side is Kaido

Locations

Onigashima- Formally called the Kozuki theater was taken over by Kaido and turned into a club. Run by Orochi but paid for by Kaido. The daughter of Oden works undercover as a dancer.

Oden restaurant - Named after the late boss of the Kozuki family is run by his friends and son, current front to the Kozuki Yakuza group

DonQuixote Inc. headquarters- Center of Doffy’s operations and front for the family

Dressrosa Casino - run by Doflamingo. Hosts fights at its arena. Formerly run by the Riku family, Viola Riku currently sits on the board.

Punk Labs- Caesar’s lab, Donquixote is their parent company. Was formally run by Vegapunk.

Cipher pol - Government intelligence. Has agents stationed in every region

-Local occult shop run by Hawkins. Perona works part time doing seances

West side is Big Mom

Locations

Germa 66 publishing company- a well known action comic publishing company owned and run by Sanji’s family

Thriller Bark - Haunted house run by Gecko Moria

Zoo - Run by a wildlife conservation group called Zou

Drum University Campus - known for its medical programs ​

South side is Whitebeard

Locations

Local Police station

Alabasta Gallery - an upscale art gallery. Formerly run by the Nefertari family has recently become a front for the Baroque Works gang run by Crocodile selling counterfeit art

The family heir Vivi is a curator trying to gain evidence to take down Crocodile and restore the Gallery to its former glory.

Museum - has previously bought works from the prestigious Alabasta gallery. Robin works as a curator and researcher there.

The yami - dive bar run by Blackbeard

The coast(East Coast)

Impel Down- High security prison located on an island off the coast

Enies Lobby- an old mansion island now used for major celebrity and political events

The big top - an amusement park and circus located on the boardwalk. Run by Buggy. Alvida runs the big top in his absence.

Buggy is the primary informant in the city and also works as a clown at the local hospital to cheer up the patients and gather information.

The Barto Club - a bar and exclusive club dedicated to the strawhats gang. Run by Bartolomeo. Invitation only.

The Polar Tang- Luxury Yacht that Is outfitted with a full medical infirmary owned by the Hearts

Outskirts

Cocoyasi orchards - citrus farm owned by Nami’s family run by Nojiko

Baltago Cafe - front for the revolutionary army, an anarchistic group opposing the government. Koala is their head barista. Militia operations run by Dragon. Sabo is a member.

Feel free to use this as inspiration or setting for any fanfic or art just tag me so I can check it out!

[clxckwork-sun-n-moon]

Hello clxclwork may we get "No one ever cared about me like you do" for the prompt game if you're still accepting?

hurt/comfort prompts

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helping hand || Sun-centric (no AU - 1.9k words)

If management had any issue with the amount of time you spent helping out the Daycare attendants, they hadn’t raised a word or so much as dropped an email your way. The fact they paid you your overtime for the hours you spent there felt more like a reward than anything else. Seeing as you never saw another human member of staff in there, it made sense (but also didn’t make sense at all). Why have two paychecks when one would cover your security shift and the extra help you gave Sunny (he needed the help more). And you were more than willing to spend an hour or two each day, either coming in early to help clear up at the end of the day or lingering around in the bright crack of dawn to prepare the selection of kiddy toys and the arts and crafts station. It wasn’t too stressful - Sun was always in charge of releasing kids back to their parents, so you weren’t expected to interact with any customers still (no matter how many tried to grab for you if you were working close to the entry doors, trying to worm out answers to questions you couldn’t help out with) - and it was about as safe as your security patrol.

Yeah, no, that was a full lie.

‘Safe’ theoretically, yes. But having to pick across a soft-padded floor scattered with crayons, pencils, small plastic balls, and beanbags could be a hazard to anyone who didn’t have cat-like reflexes to keep themselves steady. There always seemed to be something that could be underfoot. And if it wasn’t, it was stowed away in a part of the playground structure that you needed to properly wriggle your way into in order to retrieve the lost item. You didn’t have to crawl through tubes when on patrol. 

But you did it all the same. Each time Sun would spin his rays, collecting from your hands whatever stray knick-knack or ball or crayon you’d recovered, and thank you for your kind help. So many ‘thank yous’ from one animatronic. You weren’t sure if you felt more flustered by the consistent gratitude, or more upset that he had to do this alone whenever you weren’t around. It was only fair to help him.

Today’s cause for mischief and chaos was a couple of kids who decided all the balls in the ball pit needed to be out of the ball pit. Again. With Sun up at the doors, chatting away to a couple of parents who were interested to hear what their kid had been up to, you were left to walk the length of the play moat and collect every stray ball tossed to the side. Some had even gotten onto the walkways and play structure which was more than impressive, but thankfully it only required a stretch inside to get them. No worries about getting stuck in a narrow corner for you today. Each ball you tossed underarm back into the moat, not caring too much on how far they went or whether they bounced. A gentle menial task. It made things easy to slip through your mind, thoughts rolling over each other slow and casual. Like how you’d been doing this for months, and management hadn’t figured to follow up on your consistent overtime in the Daycare. Or the fact that you’d had another argument with your parents last night. Or the fact that Sun kept glancing in your direction while you cleaned up his space, probably judging how slow you were going. Small thoughts, that trickled over your fingers and lodged in your stomach. Before you knew it, you were so lost in the repetitive ‘pick up and toss’ motion and your own thoughts that one ball managed to slip past your eyes. One step forward, and you were going down.

Your leg kicked upward as your body weight shot the errant ball off into the distance, throwing your balance entirely. Arms pivoting in an attempt to balance, you felt your body lurch and your stable ankle wobble then cave sideways with a nasty crunch. With as much grace as you could muster, you fell, bounced off the moat wall, and hit the padded floor.

“Oh dear!” Sun’s voice echoed off elsewhere as you blinked the stars from your vision. Thank goodness for children’s play area crash mats. After a few seconds of pulling air back into your lungs, you started shifting your limbs back into place, prying yourself upright with your elbows first. You didn’t expect to see yellow and red stripes hopping into view right next to you.

“Aren’t you on front door duty?” you asked in confusion.

“I was, but all the parents are gone now,” Sun replied, crouching down next to you.

“You were just in the middle of a conversation, I could swear-”

“Are you alright? You took quite the nasty tumble there.” Sun’s rays swung from side to side as he got one arm around your shoulders, helping you sit up the rest of the way.

“I’m okay, the floor caught me well enough,” you managed to laugh out a touch. Sun’s silence was a poor receptor of the joke. “I’m serious. I barely hit my head, if the ground can tank a toddler falling over at top speed then my skull should be fine.”

“Well, if you’re sure.” There was definitely distrust in Sun’s voicebox, and hesitation before he straightened his legs, lifting you up in the process. When you put your weight on your sprained ankle and hissed from the stab of pain that followed, he immediately set both his hands under your shoulders to take some of your weight. “I knew it! I knew you were injured in some way, this simply won’t do. I’ll need to fill out an accident report, and you need to sit down. Where’s the injury?”

“Ankle,” you mumbled back. Your brain was spinning around the fact you’d disappointed Sun and the fact his hands were large enough that his fingertips were practically touching at your back. A small sigh echoed out from Sun, his head rotating almost all the way around before returning to centre. He shifted you around in his arms, easily as a small child, with one arm still holding your shoulders and the other scooped under your legs.

“Really starlight, you shouldn’t hold onto these sorts of things. Rules are important, and so are you,” he commented, carrying you in long loping strides to the security desk.

“I know, paperwork to fill out and-” Wait. You needed an extra minute to process that last part of his sentence. A small nervous laugh bubbled up from you. “That’s sweet, Sun. Is that something you tell the kids often?”

Sun paused before setting you down on the desk. 

“What thing?”

“The ‘you are important’ schtick.”

“Yes I do. But you are too.”

“I’m not a child, Sunny.”

“I’m aware of that. My statement still stands.” Leaning in, he prodded you gently in the sternum. “You are important, and if you’re in pain, you’re allowed to get help for it. No walking it off….literally.” Your gaze slipped away, unable to hold it against Sun’s unblinking eyes. Instead you stared at your ankle, and Sun followed you, crouching down to rest a hand on your ankle and prompting another hiss from you. Once the pain of pressure faded, the cool metal and silicon was practically a balm, as he slid your shoe and sock off to check the joint more properly. 

“What’s the verdict, doctor? Am I gonna live?” you couldn’t help another small joke, anything to break the quiet you were in right now.

“So long as you keep your weight off your foot for a day or so, you should be fine.” Sun ignored your groaning to continue on: “If we apply an ice-pack and keep it on for fifteen minutes, doing the same for about two hours, then the swelling should reduce quicker.” Leaving you to mourn your security patrol, Sun poked his head outside the Daycare and motioned at a nearby Staff bot. You couldn’t overhear his words exactly, but you guessed he was asking for an ice pack of some kind, as the Staff bot quickly spun around and wheeled away elsewhere into the Pizzaplex. 

“Am I going to be able to do my shift today?” you asked. “I’m gonna get hell for calling in sick…an hour and a bit before I should start working. My actual job, that is.”

“Not to worry. I’ve left Moon a message so he’ll know you’re out of commission for the night, and he’ll be able to continue assisting with taking care of your ankle.” Sun’s hand settled over your shoulder as he stood next to you, still managing to loom over you (but not in a bad way). “You won’t need to call off sick, if that’s your main concern.”

“No, well, I-” You needed to breathe in slowly, trying not to turn your tongue into a knot with how badly you were fumbling everything. “I’m not very used to this kind of situation, is all.”

Sun made a soft note, of agreement, of understanding, maybe both. His hand squeezed your shoulder, before descending down to hover near your side.

“No-one’s ever really prepared for emergencies like this, starlight. Not when it happens to them, at least. It’s why it’s important to have friends around,” he said, voice all warm and sweet and making pancakes in your stomach.

“That’s kind of the deal though. No one’s ever cared about me like you do.”

This time when the silence fell in, you couldn’t break it. Words froze up in your throat, choking on something weighty you’d dislodged in your attempt at humour. Sun stood next to you, looking down at you, sun rays still as he just…looked. You wanted him to say something in return, to make you think you hadn’t just completely fucked the conversation sideways, something to distract you from the new thoughts that you’d uncovered. Hot tears welled up in the corners of your eyes, beginning to roll down your cheeks no matter how much you tried to hold them back. You had to look like such a mess right now - wasting Sun’s time, crying over your own loneliness.

Slowly, Sun’s fingers wound between your own, lifting your hand up to rest in his palm. His other hand trailed against your cheek, capturing tears against his thumb.

“You know, I’ve been feeling much the same way, starlight,” he said softly. That shocked you quickly out of your tears. “It’s true. You come here nearly every day, helping me clean up and put things away, or even staying late when you and I know you should be going to sleep. You’ve been looking out for me, caring about me. For such a long time it’s just been me and Moony, and now…it’s you too.”

A low jingle came from the Daycare entrance. Sun stepped away from you, your fingers slipping away and you couldn’t help but lean after him to try and let the touch linger. Not to worry though, he returned shortly after with a small industrial bag of ice in one hand and a soda cup in the other hand.

“It’s always the wrong flavour that people ask for. I hope it’s not too bad though,” he said as he pressed the cup into your still outstretched hand, before kneeling down to hold the ice bag on your ankle and lift your foot up to a more appropriate resting level. Wiping away your tears, which were starting to come back with a vengeance, you sipping on the drink inside. Ah, cherry cola.

“Thank you,” you mumbled through a thick throat. Sun peered back up at you, that smile more radiant now.

“Of course, star. Anything for our dear friend.”

[butterflyintochains]

Best With Three: Part 1

Gabriella ''Ella'' Lemieux is a 23 year old tennis star from Montreal. A devoted cat mom, lover of the hard courts, and tennis history nerd to her atoms. Best friends with just about everyone, she courts no controversy. Beloved and admired for her elegance on court, as well as her charity work off court. One of the icons of the young Canadian King Cup Team. With her besties, Leylah and Bianca, at her side, she's unstoppable.

That is, however, until a wild Christmas in Vancouver while visiting family out west before going to Australia. When she meets two local hockey stars.

TW: some sexism, social media au, language,

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Deux Moi - 1/1/2024

Looks as if we have quite the juicy story for you this new year's day, friends! The United Cup in Australia might be very spicy to watch, one of the ladies on the Canadian team was spotted in Whistler with two members of a BC based hockey team over christmas break, skiing and ice skating. Local sources say they rented a lodge to themselves, and were inseparable for their whole stay. They were seen leaving in the same car. Wonder what this is all about

Anon23479

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Gabriella.Lemieux:

Liked by: leylahannietennis, felixaliassime, and 35k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Salut, Sydney!! So happy to be here for the 2024 United Cup with my beloved brothers and sister on Team Canada! Had a bit of a weird christmas break, Whistler is always amazing. Happy to be back in the saddle, and excited to finally get going again!

replies:

leylahanietennis: Can't wait to win this with you, sis!!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Let's get this, sunny!!

felixaliassime: You n me for doubs team?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Post me up the front, and Chile and Greece won't stand a chance, Feli!

denis.shapovalov: Hate that I'm not there 😢 please win this, guys!! I'll be with you from my couch!

leylahannietennis: Love you, Shapo! felixaliassime: Come back to us stronger, mon chum! 💕 Gabriella.Lemieux: Sending my love to you and Miri, MC!

MapleFam: Wait, wait, did you say you were in Whistler over christmas, Ella?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Yeah, I was, visiting some family out west. Why? What's happened?

taylor_fritz: That was you, Ella?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Taylor, honey, I love you dearly. But, what are you talking about? MapleFam: Looks like someone girlbossed a bit too close to the sun this winter! 😁 taylor_fritz: Check the gc, Ella, now.

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New World Kids Chat 🍁🦅

Sunshine: Okay, Ella, have you seen the pictures yet or no? EllaAngel: No? Leylah, I haven't? ChampionCoco: Someone managed to get pics of you at Whistler Blackcomb with two hockey players, babes. DadFriendFritz: Apparently you three shared a lodge or something? And, went skiing together? FDoubleA: Tay, we don't know everything, maybe Ella just made some friends? DJShapo: Yeah! Maybe she just made friends out west? Who doesn't become fast friends with Ella? EllaAngel: Oh... no... oh, tabernak. MamaBianca: Ella, sweetie? EllaAngel: Oh... I am so fucking stupid. Sunshine: No, no you're not, angel, what's going on? EllaAngel: I've done something very stupid... we did something very stupid. BigFoe: What'd you do, Ella? EllaAngel: Fran, if I actually type it out, I might just keel over. Please, don't tempt fate so close to us getting back to work. Sunshine: Do you need some love, angel? EllaAngel: Yeah, sunny, I think I do. Sunshine: On my way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: leylahannietennis, denis.shapovalov, and 250 others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Had a rough night, but my bestie leylahannietennis is always with me to help me back up. Don't know where I'd be without you, sunny. Thank you for being you, sunny! Je t'adore, mon soleil!

replies:

leylahannietennis: Happy to help, angel! You'll never be alone as long as I'm here, promise!! 😘😘

denis.shapovalov: Did you investigate the thing further?

leylahannietennis: We did, Ella has another post coming before our tie against Chile! Gabriella.Lemieux: Should be done soon, DJ!

taylor_fritz: Good to see you're taking all this in stride, Ella!

felixaliassime: I convinced Adil to let us do doubs, Ella!!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Merci beaucoup, mon chum!

biancaandreescu: Miss you both soo much, Wherever you got those hoodies, link them to me, plz.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Miss you too, BiBi. 💖💖 leylahannietennis: Can't wait for Melbourne and our breakfasts already, BiBi.💕

MapleFam: Love seeing the New World kids come out to support Ella through this rumour storm.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux:

liked by: leylahannietennis, felixaliassime, and 4k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Okay, long post, buckle up. So, your girl definitely girlbossed too close to the sun this winter! I went to Vancouver to see some family out west, and met these two hockey players at Whistler Blackcomb. I remember things about them, but that's it. So, I need some help.

The first guy was tall, just over six feet, had this blondish buzz cut. Swedish, named Elias. Spoke with a very heavy northern Swedish accent, said he was a forward.

The second was a bit shorter, just shy of six feet, had darker swoopy hair. American, called Quinn. Sort of sounded midwestern if I had to place his accent? Said he was a defenceman.

So, my knowledge kinda ends here. They said they were on the same team, and were best friends too! Anyway, if anyone can help me, or put me in contact with them again, that'd be awesome.

Thanks for helping me last night, Leylah!!

replies:

MapleFam: Oh, oh my God, it's true? That gossip site actually got something right? Colour me shocked!

BelieveInBlue: Crossover of the century perhaps?

bboeser: Well... this is a plot twist and a half.

leylahannietennis: Who are you, and why are you in my bestie's comments? felixaliassime: Uhh, sunny, I think he might know these two players... Go easy on my Habs, please. bboeser: Yeah, not likely.

tdemko30: Oh, my God. _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes: check your damn messages for once, please!

taylor_fritz: Ella, are you still playing now?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Of course I am, Tay.

denis.shapovalov: Oh, to be a fly on the wall in Sydney this week!

leylahannietennis: DJ, don't make this worse, please...

cocogauff: So brave of you to come out with this, Ella! But, holy hell this is weird!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, cookie! Yeah, this is weird, and I messed up, and it's my dumb fault. katiecboulter: You've not messed up, Ella, you're 23, stop being so hard on yourself. Hope you find these two guys, tho, so does Alex. GabriellaLemieux: Me too! And, thanks, Katie!

conor.garland8: _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes. For the love of God, check both your messages and the gc, this is beyond urgent! Also, big fan, Ella!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thank you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

All Together, All In 🏒🐬

DadMillsy: Well, Petey, Huggy... care to explain yourselves? Captain Bear: Last I looked, I'm the captain, Millsy. Snatcher: Doesn't matter, what have you two done? Caldersson: Well... we met this girl at Whistler, and... stuff happened. Caldersson: Now, here we are. TheFlow: Yeah, 'this girl' is the current Canadian number two tennis player! She's in Sydney for a tournament! Captain Bear: Australia? Why is she there? Garly: Because, dummy, that's where the tennis season begins! JoDak: This shit is hilarious! DadMillsy: No, Dak, it's not. Caldersson: Wait... are we talking about Gabriella? I just looked her up, Gabriella Lemieux. Captain Bear: Ella? Oh, she was so cool! Better skier than us too. Chaos Giraffe: That's the least of your worries, boys. The optics of this aren't great. Your roster spots and letters are a concern too. DadMillsy: And, y'know? Gabriella's career? Which could be over before it begins because of this? Caldersson: What do we do, then? Snatcher: Reach out to her? She deserves that at least, right? Captain Bear: Yeah, she does. Caldersson: Good idea. TheFlow: And, for the love of God, no one tell Tocchet about this whole thing. He'll pitch one. BigHog: Good idea, Brock.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Chile fall to an onslaught from Team Canada at the 2024 United Cup. The all-in Canadians 2-1, taking both singles ties, but losing the doubles with some excellent tennis from Auger-Aliassime and Lemieux. 1/3

@/WTA_updates:

When asked about the recent rumours of a hookup in Whistler during her post match presser with Felix, Gabriella had this to say: ''Yeah, it's not been great, training with this cloud over me. But, I've got my friends, and hopefully this will sort itself out in time. First scandal of my career, good to get it over with early.'' This got some laughs. 2/3

@/WTA_updates:

When asked about if she's heard from her mystery beaus, Gabriella said: ''Not yet, I had some hockey players in my comments of the post I made. But, nothing from Elias and Quinn, no. Hope they reach out soon, I'm getting worried.'' Felix, ever the gentleman, gave her an assuring pat on the back. 3/3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: leylahannietennis, bboeser, felixaliassime, and 50k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Some sneak peeks of my kit for the 2024 United Cup, which will also be my kit for Roland Garros, and (if I'm there) the Olympics. Red and white for my home country! Had to use last year's RG kit for the Spain tie, now my actual kit has arrived from France! Still nothing from my mystery men, btw. 🙁😕

replies:

leylahannietennis: Love it on you, angel!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, sunny!

cocogauff: Love it! Red's your colour, and the collar is to die for. Might ask New Balance for a polo dress too.

bboeser: They're working on it, Gabriella.

MapleFam: Ella really used a fit check post to ask her boys to get off their asses! Go off queen!

liked by Gabriella.Lemieux.

_eliaspettersson followed Gabriella.Lemieux.

_quinnhughes followed Gabriella.Lemieux.

felixaliassime: Finally!!

denis.shapovalov: About damn time!

taylor_fritz: progress!!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Okay, boys, stand down 😅

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux DMs

_eliaspettersson: Hi, Gabriella. _quinnhughes: Sorry we took so long, we were so shocked ourselves. Gabriella.Lemieux: Hi, guys, I'm in Sydney right now. _eliaspettersson: So, we won't be able to meet up until february, then? Gabriella.Lemieux: Yeah, I'll be flying to Melbourne for the Australian Open soon. _quinnhughes: So, who are the people in your comments, then? Gabriella.Lemieux: Leylah, Felix, Bianca, and Denis are my fellow Canadians, we're basically family. Taylor and Coco are our American friends. Gabriella.Lemieux: Who are the other people in my comments? _eliaspettersson: Thatcher, Brock, and Conor are our teammates. _quinnhughes: Sorry if they freaked you out. Gabriella.Lemieux: That's fine, this whole situation has been weird, so... _eliaspettersson: Yeah, it has been.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/WTA_updates:

Tstitsipas beats Auger-Aliassime to take the first rubber for Team Greece! Gabriella and Leylah are on the bench sitting all close together as always. Fernandez is up next against Sakkari for the women's singles tie! 1/4

@/WTA_updates:

And, Leylah gets it done in style! 7-6, 6-3. When asked about how the team have been supporting each other, Fernandez said: ''We're family, brothers and sisters, we've all known each other for so long. Steven's been team dad, and the three kids have each other's backs.'' Could not agree more, this team is giving family vibes. 2/4

@/WTA_updates:

The crowd are all cheers as Diez and Lemieux take to the court for the deciding doubles tie. Normally, Diez acts as an advisor to his partner, but today, they're playing together. Let's see how it goes! 3/4

@/WTA_updates:

Team Canada take down Greece 2-1. With an emphatic doubles win led from the front by the nation's number two women's player. When asked about her situation, she said: ''We're in contact now, and I'm pleased to be kinda out of the woods of the big rumour mill. Happy to get this win today, can't wait for the quarters!'' Phew! Situation kind of resolved! 4/4

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, leylahannietennis, and 30k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: All for one, one for all! Can't wait for the quarters against Germany! So happy to be up and running this season, and doing this with my beloved brother and sister. I think this big breakfast spread in our team room was well earned! 🍁😍

replies:

felixaliassime: You were insane in the doubles last night, Ella!

danielnestor1: That's my girl!! So proud to be your coach!

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, Danny 💕

leylahannietennis: Germany, here we come!

_eliaspettersson: Don't tell Tocchet, but I woke up to watch your doubles match, Ella. 😘

Gabriella.Lemieux: Secret's safe with me, sweetheart 😉 Did Quinn wake up for me too, or... _quinnhughes: I did, happy you won. Gabriella.Lemieux: Thank you, honey!

MapleFam: So, are they dating now, or...

denis.shapovalov: let's not speculate about my sister's private life, please.

mirjambjorklund: Can't wait for doubs in Indian Wells with you, Ella.

Gabriella.Lemieux: So excited already, Miri!

BelieveInBlue: Happy to see this all working itself out.

tdemko30: Can't believe I'm saying this, but I'm rooting for Team Canada to win.

bboeser: Same.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: leylahannietennis, felixaliassime, and 2k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Not the result we wanted, but Germany came out swinging. Happy to have had this experience, though. Oh well, onto Melbourne for the Australian Open!!

replies:

felixaliassime: We'll get them next year, Ella.

leylahannietennis: We did so well, though, no one expected us to make it this far, and we did!

danielnestor1: I've booked John Cain for our first session with Leylah, Ella.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, coach!

_eliaspettersson: You did so well, Ella! Don't be so hard on yourself.

_quinnhughes: ^ Gabriella.Lemieux: Thanks, guys 💖💖💖

denis.shapovalov: Can't wait to get back together in Melbourne already.

biancaandreescu: We'll hopefully have a full team next year. Onwards and upwards.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@/MapleFam:

Can I just say how proud I am of Gabriella for how she's handled the last few days? We've watched this girl grow up, and now she's navigating her first career scandal. Anyone else would've flown back to Canada, but she's come through this so well? And, like, she, Elias, and Quinn seem to genuinely like each other too?

@/EllaLemieux: Thank you so much for the support! Means more than you know. It's not been easy, but I think we've handled things as well as we can all things considered. Hopefully, I can meet up with them soon enough.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gabriella.Lemieux

liked by: _eliaspettersson, _quinnhughes, leylahannietennis, and 40k others.

Gabriella.Lemieux: Salut, Melbourne! Training with leylahannietennis was awesome as always, and my hotel room is so cute too! Thank you for the lilies, Mr Tiley! Excited for my first round match against Daria Saville too!

replies:

_eliaspettersson: Is it weird that I wanna go to Melbourne now?

_quinnhughes: ikr? It's so beautiful there, still winter here. And, Ella's there! Gabriella.Lemieux: How about Wimbledon? _eliaspettersson: We'll be there.

MapleFam: Not Elias and Quinn wanting to be with Ella again already! 🥺

danielnestor1: Let's get you this title, Ella 💪🙏

Gabriella.Lemieux: Let's get us this title, Danny.

leylahannietennis: Same section, hate this draw so much.😭

cocogauff: All three of us? wtf? 🙄 Gabriella.Lemieux: We'll be okay, trust me. 🥰

BelieveInBlue: Can't wait for this tournament! But, putting the besties in the same section is just straight up cruel.

Gabriella.Lemieux: You have no idea! Leylah and I have been friends since we were kids, this is just unfair.

NucksForEver: How long has Daniel been your coach, Ella?

Gabriella.Lemieux: Since mid 2021, he's been a miracle worker. My serve and net game have never been better. He's like a second dad to me. I loved watching him and Nenad growing up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Whistler to Melbourne, an interview with Gabriella Lemieux by Barbara Schett.

There's three days to go until the 2024 Australian Open, and one of the young Canadians has had an interesting start to her season. Following a fling with two hockey players while visiting family in Vancouver. Montreal native, Gabriella Lemieux, arrived in Sydney to a cloud of speculation over her head. However, she has navigated it as though it's a casual hold of serve. ''Ella, first, how have you been?'' I asked her as we sat down in hospitality at Rod Laver Arena yesterday.

''Good, actually, I'm doing okay. Y'know, it's been a bit rough, all the rumours and gossip, but overall, I'm okay.'' She said, nursing a smoothie in her hands.

I asked her. ''Your two mystery men, I understand they play for the Vancouver Canucks, yes?''

She answered, with a laugh. ''Yeah, I've been a lifelong Montreal supporter, so, that's gonna be weird to tell my dad.'' Indeed, Lemieux's father, Francois, is a season ticket holder for the local Montreal Canadiens. ''Have yourself and the men came to any agreements yet?''

Gabriella said, fiddling with the ring she wears on her right index finger. ''No, we've been chatting via my dms, but we want to have that discussion in person.''

I asked her about how she may be looked at for having two boyfriends in another sport, she said. ''I'm not interested in that, never have been, how I'm perceived. I know myself, my loved ones know me, that's all I need.''

When I asked her about the support from her fellow Canadians, Gabriella got very emotional. ''I would not be where I am without them. Felix and Denis are my brothers in all but blood. Leylah has been my rock, Bianca is a text away, Daniel has held me when I needed a hug.'' Drying her eyes, she said. ''I just hope they know how much I love them all.'' Love was the thing the team credited with their Cinderella run to the quarter finals of the 2024 United Cup, and it has served them well. ''I'm sure they do, and, if you do go ahead with the relationship with those boys, they're very lucky to have you.'' I assured her.

Gabriella smiled, that glowing smile we've become so used to seeing on court. ''Thank you, Babsy.''

I can only wish Gabriella all the support this coming tournament, and for people to remember that no one knows everything that a person is experiencing in life. We all are owed a little bit of grace.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Just something a bit experimental, have no idea if this post will go anywhere. But, this was fun to work on over the last day and a bit. Had this idea randomly one night. This will be hopefully part one of a series. I love Gabriella already!

Enjoy!

[carry-on-my-wayward-hobbit]

~ People I wanna know better Tag Game ~

Thank you @deadhoneybee !! 💕

Last Song: Genesis, Grimes. Not the usual stuff I listen but it’s such a vibe

Favourite colour: Like earthy or pastel blues and greens

Last show/film: last show was always sunny which I’ve rewatched so many times it’s basically white noise to me now lol. And I dont think I’ve seen a movie this year so it would probably would have been Knight Before Christmas or the Reputation stadium tour (rip 😔)

Sweet/savoury/spicy: savoury! All I want to eat rn is tacos or bao buns 😩

Relationship Status: single

Last Google search: autopsy vs coroner report (writing research lmao, for the below fic)

Current obsession: supernatural aus - specifically hunter x supernatural creature ship dynamic.

And more specifically a wolfstar au I started as a joke based off of a spn werewolf episode but have suddenly turned very serious and I can’t stop writing it.

And also a Les amis fic I read years back but can’t stop thinking about. I can’t remember what it was called and it was incomplete but all the Les amis were hunters except for grantaire (vampire) jehan (fae) and eponine (ghost) and those three were flatmates and unknowingly flirting with the guys trying to wipe them out.

Last book: I finished Mort, Terry Pratchett last week and I’m currently reading Life Class, Pat Barker and Why I’m No Longer Talking To WhitePeople About Race, Renni Eddo-Lodge

Looking forward to: I’m going to back Cardiff on Thursday to see friends and then London on Saturday to see my sister/have a LOTR marathon

I tag any of my mutuals who see this (yes even you 👁️ 👁️)

[inspiring-vacations1]

Choosing The Right Guided Tour For Your Kakadu Adventure

Choosing the right guided tours of Kakadu can be a big decision. The right one will help you make the most of your time in Kakadu National Park and get you closest to nature without having to deal with all the hassle of planning a trip yourself.

What are the most popular Kakadu tours?

The most popular tours are the 4WD and boat tours. The destinations are Nitmiluk National Park and Nourlangie Rock, which offer swimming, hiking, and fishing opportunities.

Of course there are many other options for you to choose from in Kakadu National Park!

For more information our Visit Website: https://www.inspiringvacations.com/au/kakadu-tours/

Kakadu National Park is located in the Northern Territory of Australia, north of Alice Springs and east of Darwin. The park covers an area of approximately 20,000 square kilometres (7,704 sq mi), making it one of the largest national parks in the world.

The park is well known for its exceptional wildlife and vegetation, as well as for its ancient Aboriginal rock art. Kakadu contains a wide variety of habitats including wetlands, riparian forests, open savannah woodland and grasslands. 

Where can I go on my Kakadu tour?

There are many tour options to choose from. You can go on a Kakadu National Park tour or a Nitmiluk National Park tour, which is also called Katherine Gorge. You can also visit Litchfield National Park and Prince Regent National Park.

The best way to decide what type of tour you want is by considering what kind of experience you're looking for and how long you'll be staying in Australia. If this is your first time traveling abroad, then we recommend starting with one of our short trips that only last 3 days or so; these tours will give you an introduction into what it's like to travel internationally while giving your body time adjust before venturing out further into the country (or even continent). 

Our most popular option for first-time visitors is our 4-day Kakadu Adventure package--this includes all transportation between destinations as well as lodging at either Kings Canyon Lodge & Resort or Jabiru Gardens Hotel & Spa within Kakadu National Park itself!

What should I expect from a Kakadu tour?

Kakadu is a land of incredible beauty and diversity, with a wealth of wildlife, landscapes and history to explore.

If you're planning on taking a guided tour around Kakadu National Park, here's what to expect:

Weather - The weather in Kakadu can be unpredictable at times; it can change from hot and sunny one minute to rainy and cool the next! Make sure your tour includes rain gear so that you're prepared for any eventuality. It's also important that your tour includes air-conditioned vehicles so that when things get too hot or cold inside them (or both), they have somewhere cool to go where they can rest while waiting out their bad luck streak.

Wildlife - There are many species of animals living within Kakadu National Park including crocodiles, kangaroos and dingoes but also some less common creatures such as snakes or lizards which may not always be visible depending on whether they've been disturbed recently by humans entering their habitat area too closely without being aware what might happen after doing so.

Conclusion

Kakadu is one of the most spectacular places on earth and offers a range of activities for everyone. Whether you're looking for something adventurous or relaxing, we can help you find the right guided tours of Kakadu to suit your needs.

Source Url: https://guidedtourpackages.blogspot.com/2023/05/choosing-right-guided-tour-for-your.html

[whatdoesshedotothem]

Sat[urday] 8 October 1836

7 1/4

11 40/..

V

V

+

No kiss ready in an h[ou]r ver[y] fine sunny morn[in]g F[ahrenheit] 56° and out at 8 3/4 – H[a]d Mr. Husb[an]d – w[i]th Booth and 1 or oth[e]r –

Cookson and Sarah the kitchen m[ai]d poorly – w[e]nt to ask Matty Pollard to co[me] – b[a]ck and br[eak]f[a]st at 9 50/.. - Mr. Horner

ca[me] to A- [Ann] soon aft[e]r 10 - Mr. Jubb ca[me] bet[ween] 11 and 12 - my a[u]nt weak[e]r - A- [Ann] bet[ter]   Cookson m[u]st ha[ve]

leeches appl[ie]d to her side for fear of pleurisy b[u]t w[i]th care will soon be bet[ter] - Sarah

m[u]st ha[ve] a strong emet[i]c and medic[i]ne – threat[ene]d w[i]th fever - told Mr. Jubb I th[ou]ght she

h[a]d best go ho[me] this aft[ernoo]n - he agreed – w[oul]d s[e]nd the leech wom[a]n to Cookson (8 leeches

put on bet[ween] 3 and 4 p.m. – d[i]d gr[ea]t serv[i]ce) and tell Sarah’s moth[e]r of her d[au]ght[e]r’s being to

go ho[me] – S[e]nt John Booth aft[e]r his din[ner] for a fly and the mother ca[me] and she and Sarah

(and the leech wom[a]n w[e]nt b[a]ck w[i]th them) off bet[ween] 4 and 5 p.m. - Longish talk out of

doors w[i]th the 2 Manns - I agr[ee]d that I h[a]d bet[ter] n[o]t sp[en]d m[u]ch mo[re] mon[e]y in phey[in]g at Walker pit

to find out Mr. Rawson’s trespass - to ascert[ai]n Hinscliffe’s, and then get the lit[tle] bit of coal I can

safe[l]y - serve mys[elf] and sell the rest, and ha[ve] the gin etc ready for Listerwick – ask[e]d the Manns to

gi[ve] me their val[uatio]n of the coal to let - and als[o] wh[a]t they th[ou]ght it w[oul]d ma[ke] if I kept it in my own

h[a]nds and ga[ve] an agent a cert[ai]n percentage on the clear profits p[e]r ac[re] - they m[i]ght natur[all]y

infer that I th[ou]ght of thems[elves] as agents – ask[e]d them to recomm[en]d so[me]one as an overlook[e]r of my st[one] quarr[ie]s –

Jos[e]ph Mann h[a]d co[me] to shew me a piece of the top bed stone found at 8ft. 4in. deep fr[om] the surf[a]ce of the gr[ou]nd (capit[a]l riv[in]g st[one]) tak[e]n fr[om] out of the

lit[tle] sq[uar]e hole sunk by Jos[e]ph Mann at the bot[tom] of the oat stubble at the bot[tom] of the gard[e]n - at Lit[tle] Marsh

then h[a]d Dav[i]d Booth - if the specim[en] of st[one] I shew[e]d h[i]m (fr[om] Lit[tle] marsh) w[a]s a 6ft. thick bed and had on[l]y 8ft.

4in. of baring, it w[oul]d be worth he agreed w[i]th me 9d p[e]r ft. cube of thick[ne]ss - a bed

6ft. thick worth 3 ti[me]s as m[u]ch as a bed on[l]y 3ft. thick - twice as m[u]ch for doub[le] thick[ne]ss

of st[one] and once as m[u]ch on acc[oun]t the sav[in]g the baring – saunt[ere]d out – ab[ou]t the h[ou]se and ca[me] in at

6 – dress[e]d – din[ner] at 6 3/4 - A- [Ann] sat w[i]th me a sh[or]t ti[me] and ate a ver[y] lit[tle] cold moorgame and then, as yest[erday], left me to finish my din[ner] by mys[elf]

coff[ee] upst[ai]rs - sat w[i]th A- [Ann] she r[ea]d 2 p[ages] of Fr[en]ch and I r[ea]d encyclop[aedia] of geog[raph]y artic[le] Germ[an]y till

9 10/.. then ca[me] to my a[un]t – h[a]d sat w[i]th my a[un]t 1/2 h[ou]r till 2 1/2 - she w[a]s sitt[in]g up in bed, and spo[ke]

a lit[tle], ver[y] lit[tle] - I told h[e]r Sarah w[a]s poor[l]y and go[in]g ho[me] - and she seem[e]d sor[ry] – b[u]t her th[ou]ghts are

now princip[all]y ab[ou]t hers[elf] tho’ she nev[e]r hints at n[o]t being like[l]y to contin[ue] long –

no ment[io]n of Mr. Musgrave, nor any on the subj[ec]t of relig[io]n - she is too ill to talk of these matters –

Th[oma]s the York joiner ask[e]d me this aft[ernoo]n if he might board and lodge at the Conery w[i]th the gard[ene]r - no! I want[e]d the

gard[ene]r to ha[ve] men of his own - for his own job - then ca[me] the explanat[io]n of poor Thomas’s griev[an]ces

Bligh and he dont go on comf[ortabl]y – Th[oma]s th[in]ks B- [Bligh] jealous of him w[a]s the subst[an]ce of his mean[in]g - I advis[e]d

 Sarah w[e]nt ho[me] ill   Cooks[o]n poor[l]y

 St[one] fr[om] Lit[tle] marsh

by Jos[e]ph Mann

 val[ue] of the st[one]

  239

1836

Oct[obe]r

car[in]g noth[in]g ab[ou]t it - if Mr. Husb[an]d th[ou]ght it right, he (Th[oma]s) might ha[ve] the cott[age] rent free at Mytholm Jack  

Green h[a]s just left and ha[ve] his wife and fam[i]ly (one lit[tle] girl) there dur[in]g the ti[me] of his work[in]g here for me –

workm[e]n Rob[er]t Mann + 3 Mark Hepw[or]th and one 1 h[or]se cart st[one] fr[om] Hipp[erholme] quarry and jobb[in]g and Frank d[itt]o and w[e]nt to H[alifa]x for the new grindst[one] – Rob[er]t Schof[iel]d break[in]g st[one] and mend[in]g the r[oa]d to the house Jos[e]ph (his man) n[o]t here –

ill – Ingh[a]m and man and boy topp[e]d up the dry arch wall[in]g ready for the centres and h[a]d Sam[uel] Booth help[in]g

to dig stuff out of the upp[e]r arch - the oth[e]rs of Rob[er]t’s men (Jack Green and Jos[e]ph Booth neph[ew] to John

B- [Booth]) mak[in]g excavat[io]n for out-door int[o] buttery cellar and jobb[in]g ab[ou]t - made inclin[e]d plane

for the carr[ia]ges to co[me] out on this side of the c[oa]ch h[ou]se – Rob[er]t jobb[in]g at all th[in]gs, and w[e]nt to H[alifa]x ab[ou]t the

grindst[one] – Ab[raha]m and J[ame]s put in the gr[ea]t st[one] lintel ov[e]r butt[er]y cellar wind[ow ]etc Jos[e]ph Sharpe and 2 or 3 lads (as yest[erday])

at the West tow[e]r steps – g[o]t the who[le] tan set up –wr[ote] all the ab[ove] the today (exc[ept] the 1st 9 lines)

whi[le] sitt[in]g w[i]th my a[un]t and h[a]d just done at 9 3/4 - then sat writ[in]g out mem[oran]da in my rough b[oo]k - and

just wish[e]d my a[un]t goodnight at 10 25/.. - on ask[in]g how she w[a]s she mere[l]y s[ai]d ‘ver[y] ill’ - fine day F[ahrenheit] 43 1/2°

now at 10 35/.. p.m.

[nikkzwrites]

1, 8, 18, and/or 27 for Sunny Lodge prompts?? (Sorry, I had a bit of a hard time choosing just one. 😅 Feel free to only do what you’re comfortable with.)

It’s no problem. You chose almost the perfect combination~! Some of those prompts were more like “imagine” type prompts while others are a quite a bit longer. So I can make all of it flow well. It will be #27: Scholar, #8 Books, #1: Fire, #18 Flowers all mixed in within that general order. I hope you like it~!

The small village of Alverton really didn’t have much in the form of entertainment. Eddie let his fingers skim the spines of the books within the local library. He counted himself lucky to even have this if he were to be honest with himself. He stood back for a second to look at the entire shelf at once. This was the problem with living in such a small village.  He had read most of the books here while he was still in New York. He sighed. Eddie felt a slight nudge in his back. He let out a pained breath. He turned to see a soft looking man in glasses. His dark hair was already graying. Eddie looked at him more carefully. Maybe it was all just dust. The wool suit the man was wearing looked caked in it. 

“I-I-I’m sorry,” The man stumbled. He knelt down to grab some of the books he dropped then looked up. He adjusted his glasses as he stood up. The man looked over Eddie and exclaimed, “Oh, excuse me sir. I don’t think we’ve met.” He placed his books on a table not too far away. He walked back with an extended hand in which Eddie took and shook. “My name is Bruce,” The man greeted him, “Bruce Banner.” He chuckled.

Eddie laughed and said, “The name is Edward Brock. Everyone calls me Eddie though.” He smiled and said, “It is very nice to meet you.”

Bruce’s eyes widened, “Oh, you are Eddie Brock.” He scrambled to his table and back with a letter in hand, “You are our lovely teacher’s Eddie Brock and the young Peter Parker’s Eddie Brock.” He looked up at him with a very wide smile.

Eddie blushed and opened his mouth to speak.

“Oh dear, did I overexcite and get ahead of myself,” Bruce asked becoming downtrodden.

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no,” Eddie snickered through his embarrassment, “I guess I just have never heard it put in that way.” He smiled to comfort his new companion, “It is an awfully delighting thing to hear. It makes this new place of residency feel a bit more like a home.”

Bruce’s eyes brightened once more, “Oh that is splendid to hear. I know my darling friend would enjoy hearing that being uttered from your lips. Her words simply drip with admiration for you.”

Eddie felt his heart on fire. He felt everything burning. As much as he loved to hear that his dearly beloved talked so well of him, he felt uneasy about this man. “Oh, and what is your relation-”

“Oh,” Bruce exclaimed again, “I am sorry. I must have troubled you. My friend could only have interested me if her name was Alvin instead.” He chuckled.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he nodded in understanding, “Oh.” He let the information process for a second before letting his body relax. He had not even released his tension before then. He ran his hand through his hair and smiled, “Well thank you for explaining to me.”

After a bit, Bruce and Eddie walked through the bookcases talking. They were laughing and smiling until Bruce put his arm out in front of his new friend and pulled the both of them a little bit back. Eddie blinked and tilted his head at his new confidant. Bruce held a finger to his lips and nodded around the corner. He motioned to the body sitting at the fire.

This weekend was quiet for you. Peter had decided to go visit the girl he loved instead of you today. Feeling lonely, you decided to get up and walk yourself to the library. When you got there though, you were surprised not to see your old friend there. You figured maybe Bruce had gone to the city to gather more books that may have been released since his last visit. You took this time to walk and study the books. You sat yourself down with a copy of Sense and Sensibility next to the fire.

Bruce smiled at Eddie and nudged him forward to motion to go talk to you. He winked and turned to pretend to get an inventory of what the library had so that he was out of the two lovebird’s way.

Eddie cleared his throat as he walked over to you. He smiled as you looked up at him. Your soft face made his world feel full. Your eyes entrapped his. Eddie laughed letting his eyes close. He shook his head and took this momentary chance of freedom to glance at what you were reading. He sat next to you and asked, “So what are you reading?”

You smiled up at the man, “Oh hello Eddie. I didn’t know you were here.” You placed a bookmark within the pages of the beloved novel to talk to the man who held your soul. You turned to face him better, “I am just reading the novel Sense and Sensibility.” You explained to him with a small smile.

Eddie smiled and asked, “Oh, you like romance novels?” He teased with a laugh.

“Well I am not having any for myself, so I must read and imagine it for myself,” you equally teased back.

Eddie fain hurt and held a hand to his heart. “Oh, you must be making jest,” Eddie laughed.

You laughed with him as the fire crackled in the background.

That night, a fire roared as it consumed a house not too far from where the Parker’s once lived. The entire community had gathered to help, but sadly it seemed in vain. When Eddie and Peter got there, they both tried to help with the fire line.

Peter turned to Eddie went a young girl came out. “I’m going-”

Eddie nodded knowing what Peter was talking about and said, “Please hurry back.”

You held your arms to the redheaded girl and encapsulated her into your arms. “Oh Jean, are you alright,” You asked as you rubbed her arms.

Jean pulled away with tears in her eyes, “No ma’am... My family is still in there. They haven’t come out yet.” Peter had heard this as he was walking up. He turned and ran inside the opened door in which Jean had came from. He closed the door behind him. You screamed as you watched Peter run inside. You felt yourself start to cry as you tried to fight some of the other women to run after him.

Eddie turned when he heard your cry of despair. He dropped everything and ran to your side. “What is it,” He asked you cradling you within his arms, “What’s wrong?”

“He-He..” You cried. You pointed inside where Eddie could see a shadow running amongst the flames, “Pe-Pe-Peter ran inside.” You clung to him and cried.

Eddie stiffened up. He turned watching the boy. He gently handed you off to Bruce who had also rushed to your side. He pat your head and whispered, “I’m going to get him.” He nodded a confirmation to Bruce and ran inside.

Black smoke surround Peter. There was so much of it. He coughed and sputtered as he tried to call for Jean’s parents. He eventually fell to the floor. As he looked up, he saw a large fully black creature lifting him and placing him on its back. Peter, then, lost consciousness again.

Eddie had ran around back of the house. He took in a deep breath and sighed. He called to the dark entity that also resides in his body. “Venom,” he whispered beneath his sigh.

Yes Edward, The voice dripped itself back into a more accessible part of the man’s mind.

“I need you,” Eddie answered.

Venom started his growth over the other man, I can see that. What will I get in return?

Eddie sighed and implored, “Please let’s talk about that later.”

The symbiote grew over his face. He chortled and ran into the fire to go and retrieve Eddie’s adopted son. When he grabbed hold of him, he placed the boy on his back and ran out. Eddie forced the dark passenger back off his body as he ran outside. He forced it off his front first letting it slither back into his back and into his spine.

You ran over to your two boys when they had emerged. You kissed their faces relieved that they had returned to you safely. Your tears cleaned the soot off the two’s faces.

It had been several months since that incident. You turned in your bed to see the lavender bundle next to your bed within a pitcher. You heard scurrying across the floor. You stretched and pulled yourself out of your bed. You walked out of your small bedroom. When you left it, you saw your new girl hurrying about. You laughed and asked, “Jean, what is going on?”

Jean froze and turned to look at her adopted mother. She flushed and stuttered, “Oh, well, I... I was just... I was just preparing...”

“Preparing for what,” You playfully inquired.

“Oh...Uh, Peter had invited the both of us out for a picnic,” She explained stuttering.

You smiled and asked, “Well why didn’t you wake me?” You walked back into your room and got ready to go to lunch. You listened to Jean hurrying to take some pastries out of the oven.

Peter and Jean walked together both holding a side of the wicker basket together. They chatted about school and gossiped about the other children around their age. You and Eddie followed together farther back. You both strolled past the Trilliums, Violets, Bellwort, Virginia Bluebells, and Spring Beauty. Everything was so beautiful. All the spring flowers warmed each of their spirits. The birds chirped a happy chorus as the small family walked together to find a spot among the field of flowers to eat their picnic in company with the hopping crickets and whatever other critters wished to join in. Eddie let the back his hand brush yours his index finger curled with yours for only a moment before going back to the “proper” type of public interaction.

[saintmurd0ck]

congrats rhi!!! well deserved 👏🏼💖

🗽 - matt and frank are on the brain. what if you tried going on a date with them?? and they're making each other jealous, which eventually leads to all three of you breaking the bed in matt's apartment 👀

nik baby, thank you so much for this ask. i am so sorry it took so long, BUT i needed it to be absolutely perfect, and i think ive done it. it was absolute perfection, a joy to work on, and clearly you know me so well because this is one of my favourite things to write EVER and i will die on this hill!!!! i love you and thank you for your incredible request <3

winner's streak | frank castle x f!reader x matt murdock

masterlist

summary: you've had a little thing for your neighbours for the longest time. what's the worst that can happen when you ask them both on a date and turn it into a little friendly competition?

warnings: matt & frank roommate au, voyeurism/public exhibition, couple blind jokes, fingering, oral m and f receiving, unprotected p in v, spanking, choking, etc bruh there's so many i cant

THIS IS A LONG ASS FIC (9K WORDS DONT KILL ME) BUT PLEASE ENJOY AND REBLOGS ARE MUCH APPRECIATED

Your groan reverberates against the iron door, echoing into the empty space of the stairwell.

ROOFTOP CLOSED, the paper sign reads, FOR SCHEDULED MAINTENANCE.

It’s impossible for your eyes to roll any further back. Of all days this rooftop is closed, why does it have to be today?

The notice scrunches in your hand as you pull it free from the door, shoving it down into your bag. You’re already annoyed about making the trek up to the rooftop, but thankfully it’s a quick trip back downstairs, and you’re outside on the fire escape in no time. The balmy afternoon wind flushes hot against your face, thin metal railing digging into your forearms as you lean forward, but your chest falls gracefully with the deep exhale that carries with it any negativity.

You’re grateful for the quiet. Besides the occasional siren, you’re high enough that you can barely hear the commotion of the streets – a rarity in this city – and apart from your noisy neighbours to the left, it’s pretty tranquil here.

Keeping an ear out for anyone disturbing your peace, you scout the apartments to either side of you, listening to the ambient sounds and whatever the street below has to offer. Nothing today; nothing except for the brush of wind rustling the trees and dislodging those clumsily pinned flyers you hate. Good.

With no one home around you, and weather almost too perfect for tanning, your hand snakes up your spine to where the strings of your bikini top lay, tied in a careless knot that comes undone in one tug. The summer heat hits your bare chest with a ferocity that surprises you, but you close your eyes and tip your head back, allowing the sun’s warmth to wash over your face and cascade down your body.

But then, it shoots straight at you; a whistling arrow that lodges itself into the centre of your chest. It’s the sound of a breath catching; an inhale so sharp you might mistake it for a hiss. Your head whips to the side.

“Frank,” you seethe, hands flying up to where you’re exposed.

He croaks out your name as your eyes level into his, bewildered stare parting his mouth in an ‘o’. He doesn’t know where to look as you muster a fake smile, tilting your head to the side so saccharinely you feel him cave inwards.

Frank’s body is still square to yours as he looks up to the sky. “Nice uh… sunny day, right?”

You scoff, arms tightening around your chest. “Cut the shit, Frank. Were you spying on me?”

His nostrils flare as he grips his coffee mug, knuckles turning white to the point where you think it’s going to break.

“Well?” you deadpan, a muscle twitching in your jaw.

He sputters at your question, and then it dawns on you.

He’s lost for words. 

Your lips curl into a smile. First of all, you’re not really mad per se, you just like seeing him squirm. Secondly, Frank fucking Castle, your utterly menacing, 6 foot, ‘women call me daddy and I benchpress 400 lbs’ neighbour is lost for words. He’s stumbling over every syllable, and it’s like you have him by the balls.

Then again, maybe you just did. 

You’ve seen the way he looks at you, not-so-slick with the little half-glances he shoots your way, or how his lips purse when he sees you in the hallway, the vein in his neck popping as an existing string of unholy thoughts undeniably course through his head. He’s always rushing to help you with something, whether it’s to carry your groceries, or to repair anything broken in your apartment.

You never complain, of course. With the way he treats you like a queen, and gets away looking like that? Yeah, you can’t fault his behaviour.

And that was just Frank’s side of things. His polar opposite, puppy-eyed roommate Matt has it just as bad for you, but Matt… oh, Matt… he makes you throb in ways you don’t understand. You’re the kind of girl who will never let a man tell you what to do, but Matt? He makes you want to get on your knees, submit yourself to him, devote yourself whole.

Matt’s not a grand gesture kind of guy as much as Frank is; he’s more of a smooth talker, knowing exactly when and how to lay on the charm. In fact, it’s not just that; he intrigues you. You’re observant – more than you give yourself credit for – and you notice the unexplainable, the somewhat impossible. It’s the bruised knuckles that so often leave his hands stained crimson, the cane that’s nowhere to be seen, the hushed phone calls and (to your displeasure), kiss-bitten lips. 

You know a body as cut as his doesn’t come from walking to the office every day.

If you go out on your fire escape at just the right time, and tip your head in just the right direction, you can hear them talking about you. You’ve never admitted it out loud, but your heart flutters with the way Frank describes you to Matt, in what you’re wearing that day, or when he says those mundane things like, ‘she bought the same toothpaste as us!’

Alright, fine. You’ll admit it.

You think about them. A lot.

And in more ways than one.

You’ve indulged in their words, in their actions, in the little things they do that makes your skin hot and your back arch. It’s always variations of the same forbidden fantasy that creep into your mind, images that become more visceral as your fingers slip beyond the thin material of your soaked panties. 

And in this fantasy, there's both of them, working you, stuffing you… until you can’t handle anymore, until you cry out both their names as you fall apart.

The worst bit? With time, your desire for them — or, whatever the hell you want to call it — has only grown stronger. It used to be that you’d run into them in the corridor, exchange a few ordinary greetings, maybe flash a pearly smile, and leave as they melt into man-sized puddles. Now if you run into each other, you all leave flustered, fumbling for the locks on your paint-chipped doors, desperately trying to conceal whatever indulgent thoughts you all harbour in your minds. 

“You okay?” Frank’s gruff voice snaps you back down to earth. 

You shake your head as you snap awake, your doe-eyes meeting his. “Hmm?”

He blushes, fingers straining against his coffee mug. “You just started starin’ off in the distance…”

You offer him a tight-lipped smile as your chest rises with a rapid breath, doing your best to ignore the second pulse that’s appeared in between your legs. 

You really had to daydream at the right time, huh?

“Look,” he coughs, diverting his gaze, again, “M’sorry for uh… interruptin’ your–”

The graphic image of his body in yours while Matt’s underneath clouds your vision, and it turns your knees to jelly. “I-it’s fine.”

You spin on your heels, intent on dropping one of your arms to reach for the side door, but you conceive an idea. 

“Hey Frank?”

“Yeah?”

You turn to face him. “Let’s go out tonight. You know that wine bar between 10th and 11th?”

He musses a hand through his hair, eyebrows raising as he nods. “Really?”

“What,” you pout, “you don’t wanna?”

A wry smile creeps across your face as he straightens his spine, the intensity of your stare a little too much for him as his eyes flick away, throat bobbing as he shifts in his stance, almost uncomfortably.

Oh.

You stifle a gasp, zoning in on the faint outline of him, straining against his jeans.

Pupils blown and lips pursed, he catches you staring, watching intently as your tongue snakes out to wet your lips. The vein in his neck is as prominent as ever as his eyes wander over your body, at your bikini bottoms that leave almost nothing to the imagination, at your half-naked self standing there in his presence.

An idea crosses your mind. An insanely, obscene, insane idea, but oh, you’re devious. Frank squeezes his coffee mug tighter, eyes pulsating as the corners of your mouth upturn into a cheeky grin… 

And your hands drop from your chest.

All you hear is the soft murmur of a holy shit, the ceramic mug shattering apart in his hands, and the sound of your laugh echoing in the wind, carrying itself across the rooftops.

“I’ll see you tonight at 7, Frank.”

.

Matt catches you in the hallway later that day as you’re running errands, heartbeat thundering in your ears as he walks himself into your shoulder. He murmurs a quick ‘sorry’, straightening his suit jacket, preparing to continue his walk ahead.

“It’s me, Matt!” you call out, biting your lips he turns, his composure cracking with an infectious chuckle and a smile that crinkles his eyes.

He motions to his cane, shrugging his shoulders. “Whoops.”

Rolling your eyes, you push off your heels, inching closer to him, his voice smooth in your ears. “How was your day?”

You focus on a small piece of white lint sitting awkwardly on Matt’s lapel as he shifts his weight onto one foot, running your tongue over your teeth as you contemplate whether or not to flick it off.

“Actually,” you start, heat singeing the back of your neck as Frank pops into your mind, “you know what? It wasn’t that bad. How was yours?”

Matt chuckles half-heartedly, nodding. “That’s uh, that’s great to hear. Mine was… well, we received a hundred rhubarb pies as payment today. S’for a client we helped a while back.”

He leans his head in towards your giggle, hand flying up to loosen his tie. “Alright, I’m exaggerating,” – he tips his head to the side – “I’m told there were… four, at best, but Foggy’s acting like we have that many.”

A moment of silence passes between you, nothing but a gust of warm wind filling the negative space. Your breath picks up as your mind races. Say something. Anything.

A look of uncertainty flashes across Matt’s face as he purses his lips, hand coming up to brush against his stubble. “Look, I’ve– I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while, but–”

“For a while?” you interject, raising your eyebrows.

“Yeah, a while,” – he rounds his shoulders, both hands gripping his cane – “d’ya wanna get a drink somewhere?”

“Are you asking me on a date, Matthew?”

He laughs, cheeks reddening at your question. “Only if that’s fine with you.”

“Hang on a second, how long exactly have you been thinking about this?”

Flustered, Matt pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, dimples showing as he tries to hide his sheepish smile. “A while.”

“Stop me when I get close.”

He grins from ear-to-ear. 

“One month?” you ask. 

“No.”

You feign surprise. “Three months?”

“Nope.”

Matt laughs as you gasp, loudly. Too loudly. “A year.”

“Longer than that, sweetheart.” 

Sweetheart.

The nickname pools in your thighs, heating the tips of your ears, forcing you to bite back a moan.

“Are you doing anything tonight?” Matt asks, nudging your foot with his cane. 

What about Frank?

What about Frank?

The memory of the obvious tent in Frank’s jeans tugs on the knot building behind your stomach.

“I– well, I have the apartment to myself tonight, so I could cook. For you,” Matt says, voice lined with anticipation.

“Huh,” you look up, swallowing a laugh. “Frank isn’t home tonight?”

Matt scrunches his face. “Uh… no. He said he had something on. I figured I might as well take advantage of the quiet.”

In an instant, a thought blossoms in your mind. It’s devious, it is so goddamn devious, but oh…

So are you.

You step forwards, breath coming out a little shaky as the heat from his body reflects onto yours. Reaching a hand up to his lapel, you brush off the lint you were eyeing earlier, indulging in the earnest grunt that falls from Matt’s lips. 

“7 PM,” you whisper in his ear. “Meet me at the wine bar between 10th and 11th.”

He presses your hand against his collarbone, holding it steady as he tilts his head downwards. You’re shuddering at his touch, at the warmth and tingles it shoots through your veins, at the unexpected coarseness of his hands. 

“It’s a date,” he confirms, letting go of your hand, the dimples in his grin remaining as he unlocks the door to his apartment.

.

The wine bar is intimate; only the sounds of hushed whispers and the clinking of glasses keeping you company. You tap your fingers against the lacquered wooden table, sucking in your cheeks as you look at the time. 7.15 PM. You’re a little annoyed, not just at the fact that they’re late, but at the straps of your sundress, thin and finicky things sliding off your shoulders with even the tiniest of movements. A sigh escapes your lips, condensation blooming across the wineglass in front of your face. Maybe they figured you’d double booked them, asked them to the same venue and on the same date without saying much more. So much for your devious little plan, huh?

You pick at your nails, wine crisp on your tastebuds, each subsequent sip making you dizzy, but slowly taking the edge off. Who cares if they don’t show up? You need a night out anyway. 

As if on cue, the door opens, catching on the little silver doorbell, and Frank steps inside, a bouquet of flowers in hand. Your breath hitches in your throat as you take him in. He’s somehow even more ruggedly handsome tonight, sharp jawline perfectly illuminated by the warm lighting. 

He apologises to you profusely, pulling you in for a tight hug, the contact from the muscles flexing under his thin shirt heating your skin. He motions to the bartender for a glass of whatever you’re having, setting the flowers down beside you.

He rests his forearms on the table, dark eyes peering into yours. “Will you excuse my tardiness, pretty girl?”

Oh, my fuck. What the hell is it with you and nicknames?

‘Pretty girl’ jolts you upright with a throb, and it takes every single ounce of strength you possess not to just uproot him by the collar and have him right then and there. Unfortunately, your reaction is poorly masked, and you’re forced to watch as Frank’s knowing smile grows, stretching larger as the bartender brings him his drink.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his glass to yours, tongue peeking out to wet his lips, eyes moving lazily up and down your torso.

Frank leans back in the booth as he takes a sip, his shirt riding up to expose the smallest sliver of skin. “So, uh, if you don’t mind me asking, what’s the reason for,” – he waves his hands around – “all this?”

You swallow what’s left of your wine, pressing your lips together. What were you supposed to say, that you were sick of the sexual tension and all you wanted was to have fun with Frank and his equally sexy roommate?

You say something else instead. “I like being spontaneous, Frank.”

He cocks his head to the side, raising his eyebrows. “S’that so?”

You let out a sharp laugh. “I’m sick of doing the same thing all the time, and I need a little change in scenery.”

Frank shuffles towards you, muscles rippling under his long-sleeved shirt. “And you think I can do that for ‘ya?”

A half-smirk tugs on the corners of your lips as your fingers start to dance to where his hands are resting on the table…

But you jerk your hand back, ears pricking up at the sound of the door swinging open and slamming against the wooden frame, followed by a loud ‘sorry’ offered to whoever’s tending the bar.

Your stomach turns as the bartender guides Matt to your table at your signal.

Fuck. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.

Still think this is a good idea?

You’re not sure where to look as Frank’s sour expression shoots daggers straight at you, moving over hesitantly to make room for Matt in the booth. 

Matt’s cold shoulder towards Frank is way too obvious as he sits down, setting his neatly folded cane on the table. 

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he swallows, “I had something I had to… take care of. But I came here as soon as I could.”

You glance down, flinching at the scabs across his knuckles, at the deep purple bruise on his cheek marring his features. There it is again, that thing about him you can’t quite figure out. 

“Yeah, okay, the fuck is this?” Frank turns to you, quizzical look bordering on anger. 

“I’m sorry, I thought this was a date,” – Matt chimes in, wagging his finger at you – “between the two of us”. 

“She asked me here, Red,” Frank whips his head around, shoulders tensing.

Matt scoffs, throwing his head back. “You? She asked you.”

Frank grits his teeth, fists clenching tightly together. “Shut the hell up. At least I had the decency to get the lady flowers.”

Matt laughs scornfully. “Oh yeah Castle, that’s so original of you.”

“We needa take this outside, Red?” 

The clink of three whiskey glasses being set down on your table is loud enough to collapse their argument. 

The server clears their throat. “Excuse me. Courtesy of that man over there,” — they pause, pointing — “if you keep it down.”

You thank the server, flashing an apologetic smile at the man in the corner, and pull a glass towards you, tipping it straight into your mouth. Frank does the same, waving at the bar for three more, while Matt sips his furtively, licking his lips before he swallows.

“I can explain,” you start, grateful for the warmth of the whiskey spreading through your veins.

Your face grows hot as Matt and Frank sit back in the booth, training their attention on you. With your heart thundering in your chest, the alcohol rushes to your head, hitting you with that little bit of confidence you need.

You lean forwards on the table, cocking your head to the side. “Let’s not sugarcoat this, alright?”

Frank shoots a sideways glance at Matt.

“You two think you’re so slick with your looks, and comments and… sink fixing,” you say, fingers curling into fists, “but the truth is, you don’t hide it well. At all.”

Matt presses his lips together as he slides his glasses up the bridge of his nose, while Frank takes a shallow breath.

Your forearms are now completely on the wood as you inch closer. “If you want me, you can just say so.”

The space between the three of you suddenly goes dead quiet; so quiet it’s as if time has fallen away, leaving you in your own little bubble.

“It’s lucky,” you pause, “that I have an affinity for you both. And I thought maybe… just maybe, we could have a little fun together.” You turn your head, making sure Frank catches the mischievous glint in your eyes.

You’re so far forwards now that your head is in between theirs, and you bring your hands up to their cheeks, pushing them closer to you. With their heads almost touching, and your lips one breath away from their ears, you feel the shudder running through their spines reverberate into your body. “Maybe we can make it a little interesting, hmm? Only if you’re up for it,” you wink.

Matt’s smirk peaks your nipples, spurring you to lower your voice, words dripping like honey. “Let’s just say the person who makes me cum the most tonight can take me on a real date.”

To his credit, Matt keeps his cool, merely interlacing his hands together on the table, sucking his cheeks in. Frank curses under his breath, gaze narrowing as he studies you, contemplating your proposition.

Matt is the first to speak, his voice dipping an octave. “Let’s go.”

Frank jerks his head in Matt’s direction, eyes wide. “Huh?”

Matt’s tone is insistent now. “Let’s get outta here.”

“Fuck, Red,” Frank whispers, hand coming up to stroke his chin, as the server sets three more whiskeys down on the table. 

You exchange a glance with Frank before you throw back the liquid, head shaking as it burns the back of your throat. They follow suit, wasting no time at all, and while Frank leaves a generous tip at the table, you make a beeline for the door.

.

The cab is way too small for the three of you, but you squeeze into the middle seat anyway, biting back a wicked grin as Matt leans forward to give the driver his address. 

There’s not a lot of space – well, not when you’re caught between two individuals with the muscle mass of an entire Planet Fitness combined – but you try to relax, heart racing as your body presses up against theirs. Something clenches in your jaw as you shuffle in the seat, the paper-wrapped bouquet of flowers crinkling by your feet. You’re not sure where to put your hands, but they come to settle at the edge of your sundress, where it’s ridden up almost beyond the point of modesty.

A thick finger sweeps against the back of your neck, catching you off-guard. The half-gasp half-cough you let out is louder than intended, and it draws the attention of the cab driver, who looks at you from his rearview mirror.

“Everything okay, miss?” he asks, concerned.

You will yourself to snap out of it, out of that lust-filled daze, squeezing your legs together as the throbbing in between your thighs intensifies. 

“Yes,” you gulp. “Everything’s fine, thank you.”

Frank waits until the driver flicks his gaze back to the road ahead. “Didn’t mean to scare ‘ya, sweetheart. You want me to stop?”

You purse your lips. “No.”

He takes his hand away from your neck and hovers over the patch of skin your sundress did cover. He drags the tips of his fingers up your thigh, stopping just high enough to hear the tremble in your breath, shooting you a half-smirk as you suck your cheeks in. 

“Frank.” Matt’s tone is stern as he tilts his chin upwards, nostrils flaring with his rising temper. “I thought we agreed to wait.”

Frank’s laugh is mirthlessly low. “Who said that, Red?”

You stare at your knee, at the big hand that’s found its mark. You’ve never noticed how gorgeous Frank’s hands are, the way he keeps his fingernails neatly trimmed, forked veins on the topside pulsating as he grips tighter, the light pink striations of healed scars running over his knuckles. And those fingers… God, if his fingers are that thick already, what would his–

You bite down on your lip, hard, as Frank pulls your knee towards him, spreading you apart in the seat. Fuck. Every nerve in your body is on fire as he lifts your hand up to his mouth, static electricity buzzing as his lips graze over your knuckles.

While Frank’s other hand slides under your dress, up to where the thin waistband of your panties sit, Matt leans over, as if to fix his seatbelt. Your eyes lull back in your head as he creeps forward instead, fingers skimming the inside of your thigh, their combined actions threatening to elicit a moan from your lips. 

You’re not in control anymore. 

Actually, you haven’t been in control for ages. It takes all of your willpower – well, what’s left of it – to not cry out, to not sit as far back as possible and let them…

“That’ll be $29.30,” the driver announces, brakes screeching as he pulls up outside your apartment building. 

“Fuck!” you curse under your breath, reaching for your purse as you pull down your dress.

Matt grabs your wrist, locking it in place as he takes out his wallet, gliding one finger along the top of the bills. 

“I think this is a 50… Frank, a little help please?” Frank grunts in agreement as Matt hands the bill to the driver. “Keep the change.” 

You don’t care that you flash Frank a little as he helps you out, smirking as you watch his chest tighten at the little scrap of fabric barely covering you, clenching the bouquet of flowers in his other hand. You yelp as he pulls you out towards him, flush against the hard muscle of his chest.

His gaze is piercing as he tips your chin upwards, irises paper thin around blown pupils. “You sure you know what you’re gettin’ into, pretty girl?” 

You swat his hand away. “Oh Frank, I’m not quite sure you’re ready for me.”

“What, you think I can’t handle you or somethin’?”

He trains his eyes on your mouth as it shifts into a wry smile, your tongue darting out to lick your lips in one smooth motion. Frank opens his mouth to retort, to say something with the intention of buckling your knees, but Matt walks up to you with perfect timing, offering you his arm.

“Walk with me?”

Frank groans, throwing his head back. “How many times do I have to tell ‘ya, Red? You can’t keep using that trick. What happens the day someone says no, huh? Can’t walk by yourself?”

A hearty laugh bubbles from Matt’s chest. “First of all, go to hell. Secondly,” – his voice drops to a whisper – “no one’s gonna say no to a blind man.” 

He turns to you, arm still on offer. “Right, sweetheart?”

You savour the priceless look on Frank’s face as you take Matt’s arm, linking it in yours. “Absolutely, Matthew.”

.

The walk upstairs to their apartment is excruciatingly slow; every step laced with the type of tension that sits thickly in the air. Arm still in tow with Matt’s, Frank trails behind the two of you, the thud of his boots against the wood echoing loudly in the stairway. You can feel him staring at you, at the way your dress flutters with each step upwards, the little glimpses of your ass making his mouth go dry.

Matt stops on the next landing, jerking your arm to do the same. Wordlessly, he drops his cane to the ground, unlinking his arm, tilting his chin upwards as if to settle his phantom gaze on you.

His lips are on yours before you can say anything, hands dropping to your waist, inching you towards the wall until he has you pinned. You mewl as he slips the straps of your dress off your shoulders, trailing his kisses down your neck, pressing himself into you.

“If there’s anything you’re uncomfortable with,” – he rasps, nipping a sensitive spot on your neck – “you tell us, okay?”

He smirks against your mouth as you tell him ‘yes’, dragging the tips of his fingers from your collarbone down your arm.

But the kiss is over as quickly as it started.

“Hey, hey, hey, what the fuck, Red?” Frank spits, yanking Matt back by the collar.

“Fuck you, Frank,” Matt retorts, stepping forward as his hands tighten into fists.

You stifle a giggle, trying your best not to show your amusement at the flowers that undercut Frank’s tone. 

Frank looks at you, nostrils flaring at the way Matt’s messed up your hair. “Darlin’, it’s a fair competition, yeah?”

Matt interjects as you start to agree. “Alright, Castle, then tell me how much fun you had before I got there. You had a head start.”

Frank throws his hands up in the air, shaking his head. “For God’s sake Red, I didn’t ask for you to be late–”

Matt presses his lips together, cupping his hands over his face, the exasperation in his voice imminent. “I had things to do, Frank, I–” 

You clear your throat. “Why don’t you two save this for when we’re upstairs, huh?”

They turn their heads in your direction, nodding.

The two remaining flights of stairs disappear under your feet in a matter of seconds.

.

You swear you hear a crack as Frank bursts into the apartment, ushering you in as he scrambles to kick the front door closed. Matt lets out a little laugh as you drag him inside, stomach twisting as he yanks your hand, spinning you towards him. His lips find yours in an instant as he shrugs his suit jacket off, hands coming up to cup your jaw. 

Bouquet of flowers still in hand, Frank rushes to find a vase, faucet creaking as he waits for it to fill up.

“Hey!” he yells out, “Better not start anything without me!”

Matt breaks away from your kiss to undo his tie, whipping his head towards Frank in the kitchen. “Like you waited in the cab?”

He groans into your mouth as your tongue swipes along his bottom lip, teeth gently clashing together as he steadies his hands on your face. 

“Frank?!” Matt calls, pulling off his glasses.

“Yeah?” 

“Here.” Matt throws his glasses at Frank, who catches them in one hand, setting them onto the counter with a soft click.

As his mouth meets yours again, Matt’s hands begin to wander. As his thumbs brush over your nipples, he dances his fingers upwards, lingering for a moment on the hollow of your throat, coaxing a soft gasp from you as he uses a knuckle to trace its outline. 

His lips skirt your collarbone as he lifts your dress up, grunting as he kneads your ass, grinding his hard cock into your leg. He continues moving his hands up to where your panties sit on your hips, picking at the waistband, listening intently for the snap of the elastic against your skin as he lets go.

There it is again, that fucking smirk. 

“Matt,” you exhale sharply, nipping at his earlobe as he snaps your waistband once again. “Matt…”

“God, I love it when you say my name like that,” he groans, tugging your panties down your thighs.

He presses closer to you, wedging his hand under your dress, tracing a finger up your slick folds. You’re squirming in place, chest heaving as he puts pressure on your clit, circling it in a way that pulls on the knot building behind your stomach. 

You make a sound you’ve never heard before as Frank comes up behind you, thick hands gripping your waist, holding you in place, steadying you for something you’ve only ever fantasised about.

Matt sinks his fingers into you, thumb still moving over your clit, brushing up against that spot that makes you see stars. 

“Attagirl,” Frank whispers, as you tip your head back into his shoulder, vision going blurry at the way Matt curls his fingers inside you. 

You’re a mess, dripping all over his hand, keening into his touch. 

Frank’s voice is husky in your ear. “Look up at – that’s right, baby, look up at me.”

You stare into Frank’s eyes, mouth parted in a perfect ‘o’ as Matt growls, thumb so slick with your arousal that he glides over your clit with ease. All you manage to get out is ‘mmhm’ before Frank brings his fingers to your lips, commanding you to ‘suck’. 

Frank purses his lips, throat bobbing as you seal your mouth around his fingers, bucking against Matt’s touch, eyes rolling back as he hits the back of your throat, tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“That’s right, darlin’,” Frank rasps, watching the uneven rise and fall of your chest, the telltale sign of your impending release.

Your cry is muffled as your orgasm rips through your body, flooding Matt’s hand, his own slacks staining with his leaking precum. There’s a string of spit clinging to Frank as he slides his fingers out from your mouth with a pop, but it doesn’t phase him; not one bit. In fact, he tips his head down to look at you like a trophy, something like a mix of awe and desire manifesting in his darkened gaze.

You wobble as Matt and Frank step away from you, slipping your dress off as you right your balance on the couch behind, bracing your wrists on the soft leather. 

But there’s no rest for the wicked, and Frank beckons you towards him as he pulls his shirt off, leaving it in a heap on the floor. He sweeps you in for a kiss, full lips insistent against yours. He’s a little rougher than Matt, but somehow, his mouth is more forgiving, warm and soft as it melds to yours. You break the kiss, stepping back for a second to look him up and down, taking in as much detail as possible.

“Holy hell,” you say, Frank’s responding expression evidence that you actually said that out loud, and not in your head.

He looks at the floor, shyly messing a hand through his hair. “S’there uh… something you like?” 

“Something I like?!” you exclaim, ogling him. 

“Shut up, Frank. How the– Oh my God, Matt, get over here,” you command, motioning Frank to come up behind you.

You waste no time in unbuttoning Matt’s shirt, working your way from top to bottom. Unlike Frank and his efforts to woo you by walking around shirtless, you’ve never seen Matt without clothes on. He’s always in something, to your disdain…

Until now.

A gasp escapes your lips – partly from the way Frank’s leaving marks all over your neck – at Matt’s tanned skin underneath, at what he’s been hiding this entire time. You run your hand over the vast expanse of him, jaw dropping as he flexes underneath your hand, rigid muscle sending heat to your core. Your heart stills at the scars flecking his torso, some well healed, some angry and red as if they’re new. 

Frank skirts his fingers over your nipples, pulling from you the tiniest whimper. 

“Uh…” Matt starts, vacant eyes flicking upwards. “I can explain–”

Your voice hushes to a whisper. “Don’t worry about it, Matty, j-just… just c’mere, okay?” 

The sound of Frank’s belt being unbuckled makes your breath catch in your throat, the clinking of metal ringing faintly in your ears as your fingers graze the deep vee lines on Matt’s hips. You watch as Matt sucks his cheeks in, cock twitching against the fabric of his slacks as you hook yourself into his waistband, pulling him closer to you by his belt.

Your mouth melts against his before you turn to Frank, who you know is desperate for attention from the way his arousal presses hard into your back. His tongue slips against yours, hand curving your jaw, tracing the contours of your face before it settles on your breast, drawing out a stifled moan as he rolls your nipple with his thumb and forefinger.

“Alright Red,” Frank pants into your mouth, “I’m done being nice.”

Matt laughs scornfully as he kisses your neck hungrily, reaching around to your aching cunt once more. 

Frank grunts as you palm him over his underwear, throwing his head back at the sensitivity of your touch. “Baby, did he make you cum good?”

You gulp, nodding as Frank smacks Matt’s hand away, rough fingers taking residence on your clit. “Yeah, Frank.”

He flashes you a cheeky grin. “Really? ‘Cause that was altar boy’s first time touchin’ a pussy.”

Matt puffs his chest out, striding forward. “Oh, you–”

Frank offers Matt nothing but a smug laugh as he picks you up over his shoulder, fingers digging into your waist as he carries you to the couch like you weigh nothing. Goosebumps erupt all over you as the cool leather makes contact with your skin, then as Frank knocks your knees apart with the push of a hand. A chill runs down your spine as you bare yourself to them, and although you know Matt can’t see you spread out like you want him to, you get the idea he knows exactly what’s going on; maybe the scent of your heightened arousal is easier for him to pick up.

“I haven’t let you off the hook, Castle,” Matt snarls. “You and me? After this we’re gonna settle it our way, yeah?”

“If it makes you sleep better at night, then yeah,” Frank retorts, head settling in between your legs.

Matt curses under his breath, fists coming up to press against his forehead. “Okay– just, fine. Just describe her to me Frank? Can you do that, then we’re even?”

“For now.”

“Fine, for now.”

You wiggle up on the couch, propping yourself up by your elbows as Frank flares his nostrils, inhaling you before him. “Fuck Red… the way she’s lyin’ on her back, spread out like this…”

Matt shudders as he palms himself, nodding. 

You feel yourself heating up as you continue listening. “And she’s– she’s fucking drippin’, God, fuck.”

“Yeah?” Matt pants, shrugging off his slacks, hand closing around his cock as it springs free, tip leaking with precum. “Keep going.”

“And now, I’m gonna lick her pretty little clit.” Frank looks into your eyes, lips pressed together in a hard line. “You want me to do that for you, baby?”

The way your breath shakes as you say ‘yes’ makes the both of them smirk.

Then, Frank’s tongue flattens against your clit, drawing from you a sound you’ve only ever made while fantasising about them, only in the privacy of your bedroom, of your shower, and wherever else you’ve thought about them. Your back arches as he licks wet circles into you, pressure feeling like velvet on the most sensitive part of your body.

Matt finds a spot next to you as he strokes himself, eyes squeezed shut as the sounds you make travel through his body. You reach out, wrapping your hand around his cock as he leans over to play with your tits, marvelling at the thick length before you, at the way it looks like it was made for your pleasure.

‘Come here, Matt. You’re begging to be sucked’ are all the words you can manage in between moans, but he comes up right next to you, slapping his tip on your tongue. He groans as you lick along the underside of him, along the prominent vein that pulsates with every touch. He lets out a half-cry as you seal your mouth over him, taking him in so deep that he hits the back of your throat. 

You start to bob your head, hand coming up to work his shaft in tandem, but Frank’s tongue slipping itself into the warmest, wettest part of you breaks you wholly, head tipping back as your peak sails through you.

Mouth and chin glistening with your cum, Frank looks up at you smugly, watching your erratic breathing as you come down from your high. He wipes his mouth before pushing off the couch to take his underwear off, cock so hard it slaps against his stomach. Your mouth goes dry at the girth, legs crossing over from the thought of him stretching you out; the pain that’ll give way to pleasure. 

You get off the couch to kneel between them both, rug under your knees semi-cushioning you from the hardwood floor. A shudder runs through your body as you look up at them, standing tall over you, every hard contour of muscle illuminated in the dim light of the apartment. Pupils dilated and mind buzzing with the thought of every single thing you’d like to do to their bodies, you reach upwards, hands closing around their cocks, throbbing and warm under your touch. Your strokes are languid as you relish in the sounds that tumble from their mouths, string of curses music to your ears. 

As your pace quickens, Matt tangles a hand in your hair. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this for,” he says, jerking your head back ever-so-slightly at the jolt of pleasure that runs through his body.

“Hmm,” you chuckle, flattening your tongue on his head, the half-howl half-cry he gives you making your legs shake. “And what about you, Frank?” You look up at him with innocent eyes as you shift to his cock, coating him in your saliva as he fucks the back of your throat.

He ruts into your mouth, grunting the words out. “Ever since I first laid eyes on you, darlin’.”

You move back to Matt, hand gliding easier along Frank’s length with the help of your spit, licking the underside of him before you take him all into your mouth. “Did you ever think this was gonna happen?”

Frank laughs as you push them together closer to you, taking turns to blow them. “You should see Red, jerkin’ himself to the thought of you.” 

Frank jabs Matt in the chest lightly. “He’s not quiet about it.” 

Matt turns red in the darkness, pursing his lips as his cock hits a spot at the back of your throat, making you gag. “Oh and what about you, Castle?”

Frank’s voice is gruff as he reaches down to play with your nipples. “Oh shut it, Red.”

You render them speechless for a second as you stuff them both into your mouth, stretching your lips to fit them in as much as possible. They’re big, bigger than you’ve ever had, so they barely fit, but God, you’re so good, trying to please them both at the same time.

“Fuck,” they curse, voices dropping an octave, Matt’s hand coiling tighter in your hair. Tears spill down your cheeks as you get sloppier, strings of saliva following you from one cock to the other. 

“I can hear you,” – Matt pants – “saying her name in the shower.”

“Yeah, so? Maybe I did, once or twice.”

“No, no, no,” Matt laughs, “Not once or twice. All the damn time.”

Frank growls as Matt opens his mouth, fake moaning your name brazenly. “Cum for me darlin’, cum for m–”

A well placed kick to Matt’s ankle shuts him up, making him stumble backwards. “Yeah, okay, now I’m gonna say that to her for real.”

Frank shuffles behind you, bending you over the coffee table, pinning your outstretched arms at the wrists. The rug burn on your knees makes you hiss, but the resounding smack on your ass distracts you from the pain. It’s soothed by Frank’s wet cock slapping gently against his handprint, and then the trail of kisses he leaves from the welt to your pussy. He licks a broad stripe up your folds before plunging his fingers inside you, tongue exploring every part of you to see what sounds you make, what you like… what’s gonna get you to your next orgasm.

You let out a sharp exhale as you feel Frank being shoved away, the night air cold on your bare pussy, but you’re sent straight back to heaven as Matt’s mouth meets your core, tongue slipping inside your entrance as he spreads you apart with his hands. You recognise him by the way he eats you; he’s so much more gentler than Frank, taking his time with you as he worships your body.

But you’re not ready for the sensation of Frank lapping at your clit while Matt tongue-fucks your hole, the mewls and whimpers falling from your lips spurring them on to lick faster, prod deeper. You feel the pressure behind your stomach building to a crescendo, one that’s broken apart as you hear the sound of scuffling behind you, turning to see that Frank’s put Matt in a headlock. 

Your eyes roll backwards in annoyance, frustrated at the way they’ve left you high and dry, a mix of your cum and their saliva dripping down your thighs and no orgasm to match. 

“Darlin’?” Frank calls, slamming his hands on Matt’s chest.

“Yes, Frank?” you mumble, stretching your back over the coffee table.

“You want my cock?” 

“Yes.” 

In a flurry, Frank gets Matt flat on the ground enough that he can’t rise up to retaliate, not quickly at least, before pushing himself right into you. The combination of his thick girth and length makes you sweat, makes your eyes lull back in your head; the burn of the stretch slowly giving way to pleasure as he grinds into you.

He pulls back, far enough that you feel only the tip of him remaining inside, before slamming his hips into yours. You fall apart instantly as he drives his cock into that spot inside you, walls clenching and back arching as you pulsate around him.

Matt gets up, feet poised into a stance that screams ‘I’m gonna fucking kill you, Frank.’ 

“Did you? Did you just make her –”

“You’re goddamn right I did.”

Matt lets out an angry sigh before he helps you up, leading you to the dining table. He hoists you up on the table, brushing your hair to the side before grinning in your ear, every word dripping with want. “Alright sweetheart, here’s what’s gonna happen okay? I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve. None of that bullshit Castle’s been giving to you this whole time.” 

The quiver in your breath makes him chuckle. “Ready for me to fuck that pretty pussy of yours?” 

He drags his teeth along your pulse as you murmur ‘yes’ in his ear, nipping at the bruises Frank’s already left on your neck. You dig your nails into his shoulder as he traces himself on your folds, teasing you until you squeeze him, desperate for the gratification you know his cock will provide. 

Frank comes up beside you, bending down to swirl his tongue over your nipple, fingers featherlight on your clit as he rubs it in small circles. You bite down on your bottom lip as Matt guides himself inside you, pushing until he can’t go any deeper, Frank’s fingers still wedged in between you. 

He grits his teeth as he fucks you, one hand on your waist and the other wrapped around your thigh, the wet squelches of his thrusts almost too much for him to bear. Matt isn’t as girthy as Frank, but he reaches the deepest parts of you effortlessly, pistoning himself at an angle that makes you cry out his name. The way he drills himself into you echoes throughout the room, the sound of his hips snapping against yours the only thing you can focus on before you throw your head back, exploding on him.

Matt’s cocky grin makes you weak as he pulls out, chin levelling into Frank’s glowering stare. He brandishes his hands in front of him, palms pointed to you as if to say, ‘your turn now’. 

Frank huffs at Matt as he scoops his hands under your ass, pulling you closer to the edge of the table. He wastes no time in filling your body with his, bending his knees as he drives himself upwards. You’re cockdumb at this point, eyes half-lidded and utterly glazed over, dopey smile the only thing you can muster as Matt tilts your chin up to his, kissing you hungrily as you moan into his mouth. Every thrust pulls from you a little mumble of unintelligible words, every nerve of yours firing at rates you didn’t think possible.

“Who’s winning, baby? Me or Frank?” Matt purrs, tongue scraping along your bottom lip.

“You’re b– fuck! Fuck, Frank!” – you say, in between his ruthless thrusts and the wicked gleam from his smile – “You’re both so good.”

You clench so tightly that Frank pops out of you for a second, but he doesn’t wait a beat to stuff himself back into you, continuing the relentless pace you know will have you ripped apart within minutes.

“That’s not good enough for us, darlin’,” Frank grits his teeth, hands digging into your ass.

“Sweetheart, I can’t even see and I know he’s not fucking you right.”

Frank snarls at Matt, swatting him out of the way as he lifts you onto his cock, off the table. Gripping your lower back, he pumps into you harder, the new angle making you want to tip your head back and howl. Ecstasy shoots through your veins as he carries you to the bedroom, cock still buried deep inside you.

He rakes his nails up your back as he uses your waist as leverage, moving you up and down on his cock with almost no effort at all. 

“Yeah darlin’,” he groans, “You feel so fuckin’ good for me, you know that?”

You whimper in response, kissing him to muffle the cry that builds up from within… and your peak sails through your body, every muscle going taut, toes curling, fingernails leaving marks on his shoulders as your overstimulated body responds to his pleasure.

He lowers you on the bed, bracketing your head with his forearms, languid kisses matching the pace of his hips. You can feel every inch of him as he thrusts into you, body expanding to accommodate him as he stills inside.

“You’re fucking infuriating, Castle,” Matt barks, standing over the two of you as he strokes himself.

“Yeah, well, if you ain’t strong enough to fuck her standing, just say so,” Frank chuckles mirthlessly, coaxing you over the edge once more.

“You didn’t give me the goddamn chance!”

“Chance?” Frank spits, squeezing one of your tits, mattress dipping as he gets off the bed. “Oh by all means Red, be my guest.”

You’re caught between a gasp and a sharp exhale as fury embeds itself in Matt’s face, lips contorting into a snarl. You’ve never seen this side of him before; this dark edge simultaneously scaring you and turning you on more than you already are. 

Something snaps in Matt.

He moves so quickly you almost miss it, akin to lightning flashing in a thunderstorm, pile-driving Frank into the bed so hard it’s a tangle of limbs and testosterone. Frank hits the bed, hard, hissing as Matt’s fist makes contact with his jaw, and then…

The soft splintering of wood, pricking Matt’s ears, sending him on high alert.

And the bed breaks. Two out of four legs collapsing in on themselves, the entire bed sinking on one side, catching all three of you off guard. 

“Oops,” Matt grimaces, sheepish smile adorning his face.

Frank clicks his tongue, shaking his head at the broken bed as he gets up to his feet. “Goddamn it, Red. Really had to let your anger get the better of ‘ya, huh?”

You don’t care that your words are slurring a little. You’re cockdazed, and they better learn how to deal with it real fast. “Oh my God. You know what? I’m so sick of– I should’ve never made this bet if it was gonna get you two riled up like this–”

You wobble as you stand up, scowl scrunching your nose as you bare your teeth. “I’m so–”

Matt shuts you up with a kiss, not caring that your teeth clash a little, pulling you close to him by the ass. The feeling of his hard cock pressed up against your stomach melts you from within, drawing out a moan you can’t bite back.

“You’re right, sweetheart. We’re sorry,” Matt murmurs, tangling his fingers in the back of your head.

“Yeah darlin’, he’s right. We can get uh… a little competitive,” Frank lowers his voice, coming up behind you to press his kisses into your neck.

You scoff, but it’s quickly replaced by a soft sound, one that indicates you’re far from being done. 

“I dunno, Red, you think she still wants us?” Frank grits, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Oh yeah,” Matt smirks, rubbing his cock on your clit, “I think she does.”

“I promise we’re gonna make it up to you, alright?” Frank teases, running his finger over the curve of your jaw. “Whatcha say, Red, wanna stuff her and make her scream for us?”

Matt’s devious smirk grows larger. “Only if she’s fine with it.” 

He tips your chin upwards, the action exposing your neck enough so Frank can close his hand around it. “Are you fine with that?”

“You got some making up to do, gentlemen.”

“S’that a yes?” they say together.

“Yes.”

“Well, the bed is broken,” Matt sniffs the air, “but, we have all night and the entire apartment to explore, right?”

Matt’s grin is different now. Devilish.

And more so when Frank reciprocates it, eyes glinting with a feral hunger. “You’re damn right.”

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

Can we see spies who are soulmates and a drunk confession at a library?? Your choice of ship (I love your writing)

Here's a Yennskier soulmate AU where your soulmark appears on your wrist the first time you touch your soulmate skin-to-skin. Approximately 2K, rated M, no warnings.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Yennefer growls as she yanks Jaskier into the Duke’s library, slamming the door behind them. With a flick of her finger and a muttered spell, she locks and seals the door so no one else will be able to get in.

Jaskier giggles and leans against her, eyes bright and glassy with drink. “Darling Yennefer, how can I think of anything in the face of your beauty?”

Yennefer growls at him. Had she known, when Phillipa Eilhart offered her a position with the Redanian Secret Service after the debacle with the Lyrian queen, how often she would end up babysitting this blithering idiot, she would have told Phillipa to fuck off. She still might. She told Phillipa that she didn’t want to work with the bard anymore, and all Phillipa said was that they balanced each other out nicely and both their skill sets were needed if they were going to infiltrate Duke Alistair’s home and find evidence that he’s spying for Nilfgaard. 

“Anyway, you’re soulmates,” Phillipa said when Yennefer protested further. “Shouldn’t you work well together?”

“A dandelion on my wrist means nothing,” Yennefer snapped back. “All the soul marks in the world can’t make up for the fact that he’s a buffoon.”

Phillipa shrugged. “Well, you and the buffoon should be on the road for the Duke’s holdings by nightfall.”

One of these days, Yennefer is going to quit and retire somewhere sunny, like Toussaint.

“I got the papers.” Jaskier waves them in Yennefer’s face. “Look at all these letters!”

“Let me see.” Yennefer snatches them from him and scans them over quickly. They’re in a rudimentary code, one that she imagines she could break easily enough in a day or two, but they don’t have time to spend a day or two codebreaking right now. They’ll have to hope that these are the papers they came here for.

“See?” Jaskier crows. “While you were canoodling with the Duchess, I was being useful!”

“I wasn’t canoodling with the Duchess. I was listening to her complain about all the time her husband spends at the hunting lodge. She was sure he had a mistress he was keeping there, so she sent one of her maids to follow him and the girl came back with the report that he wasn’t meeting a mistress, but a mysterious man with a Nilfgaardian accent.”

“The mysterious man with a Nilfgaardian accent could be a mistress.” Jaskier hiccups. "Though given the Duke's tastes, I do doubt it. It seems more likely that he's the Duke's handler."

"Really?" Sarcasm drips from Yennefer's words. "Thank you, Jaskier. I hadn't thought of that."

"Always happy to help a colleague." He tries to salute her and nearly pokes himself in the eye. "Especially a beautiful one."

Before she can think of a properly scathing reply, Yennefer is distracted by people shouting outside. She crosses to the window to see guards mounting horses in the courtyard below while the Duke shouts orders. Stepping back, she says, “They’ve noticed we’re gone, but it looks like they assume we’ve run off. Hopefully, that means they won’t think to search the castle for us.”

“Then I suppose we should hole up here for a bit.” Jaskier attempts to waggle his eyebrows, but he’s so drunk he seems to have lost control of his facial muscles, so it loses some of its effectiveness.

“How much did you have to drink?” Yennefer demands.

Jaskier waves a dismissive hand. “Two or three glasses of wine.”

“Along with half a bottle of vodka?” Because Yennefer has seen Jaskier put away half a bottle of wine without getting more than a little flushed and giggly many times. He shouldn’t be falling down drunk right now.

“Gods, no. Have you tasted the vodka the Duke serves? I’ve tasted better stuff in the dingiest backwoods tavern.”

Yennefer closes the space between them, taking Jaskier’s face in her hands. She ignores another attempt at eyebrow waggling as she looks into his eyes. His pupils are enormous. “Bardling, this is important. Did you have anything to drink except for the wine?”

“Nope.” Jaskier looks offended. “I would never get drunk while on assignment, Yennefer. What kind of amateur do you take me for?”

“Fuck.” Yennefer lets go of his face, reaching up her sleeve.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“You’ve either been drugged or poisoned. Either way, you need an antidote.”

“But why would they drug or poison me?” His mouth drops open in outrage. “I’m much more pleasant to be around than you.”

Yennefer doesn’t dignify that with an answer as she fumbles for the little leather pouch she keeps holstered to her forearm. The only good thing about these obnoxiously voluminous sleeves that have become fashionable in the past few years is that they make excellent hiding spots. She slips a small glass vial out, sniffs it to make sure it’s the right one, and holds it out to Jaskier.

“Drink,” she says. “It’s a purifying potion. Whatever toxin is running through you right now, this will neutralize it.”

But Jaskier doesn’t respond. He’s looking at her with a misty expression.

“What?” Yennefer demands before glancing down. When she pushed aside her sleeve, she exposed the dandelion on her wrist, with its bright yellow petals and curling green leaves. It’s a shock of color next to her black velvet dress.

“I forget sometimes.” Jaskier touches his own wrist, where she knows there’s a violet flame soulmark hidden under his doublet.

“Lucky you.” Yennefer twitches her sleeve back into place, covering the soulmark, but Jaskier pulls it back again.

“I know we agreed not to talk about it,” he says. “Or rather, you said you’d turn me into an eel if I tried to talk about it.”

“A threat that still stands.”

“But don’t you ever wonder?” Jaskier looks up at her with big, sad eyes. “Don’t you ever wonder what would happen if we just… let ourselves be together?”

“No,” Yennefer says flatly. “Now take the fucking potion. You’re under the influence of something, which is why you’re not already an eel wriggling on the ground.”

“Don’t you feel it too? The pull?”

She breathes out hard through her nose. “It’s not real, bardling. It’s just soulmate magic.”

“But what if it’s not? What if we’re meant to be together and we’re just consigning ourselves to lives of misery by denying it?”

“I’m already consigned to a life of misery by having to deal with you constantly.” It’s far from Yennefer’s best snipe and she knows it, which just annoys her. She’s usually more quick on her feet with her comebacks. “Just take the damn potion. We can talk about this later.”

“But we won’t talk about this later.” Jaskier sighs gustily. “We’ll go back to Tretogor, you’ll hand Dijkstra the papers and portal away, and I won’t see you again until the next time I bribe Phillipa into sending us on assignment together.”

“You bribed Phillipa?” It’s not that Yennefer expects honesty from spies, but she thought that Phillipa would at least be above Jaskier’s bullshit.

Jaskier looks even smugger than usual. “Phillipa is very fond of a particular vintage of Est Est that’s nearly impossible to find these days. I procured her one of the last bottles in existence.”

“Why?” Yennefer demands.

“Because you’re my soulmate and I love you! And I think you might learn to love me too, if you would just give us a chance.”

“You don’t love me.” She’s not sure why she’s still standing here. She has the papers; she could portal away and leave Jaskier to his own devices. “It’s just the soulmate magic ruining the little bit of good sense you have.”

“I’ve loved you since before the soulmarks activated.” Jaskier’s eyes are wide, wet, and far too earnest.

That renders Yennefer speechless for a moment. When she finally manages to speak, all she can say is, “What the fuck are you talking about, bardling?”

“I’ve loved you since Rinde.”

“Rinde was a clusterfuck.” Rinde had been one of the first missions Yennefer and Jaskier had gone on together, a wild goose chase after a rumored djinn that Prince Radovid wanted for its wishes. It was only weeks later, safely back in Tretogor, that they touched skin to skin for the first time, Jaskier casually brushing his fingers against the back of Yennefer’s hand, activating their soulmarks.

“It was.” He gazes off into the distance, looking a little dreamy. “But you were magnificent. You saved both our lives ten times over. You’re the only reason we didn’t get our heads chopped off when we returned to Tretogor empty-handed.”

“I’m the reason we returned to Tretogor empty-handed.” Yennefer was the one who got it in her head to use the djinn for her own devices.

“You were right in that Radovid couldn’t be trusted with that kind of power.” Jaskier shrugs. “I’d known you were beautiful and terrifying since the first time I met you, but I didn’t realize just how magnificent you were until after Rinde. It has nothing to do with the soulmark, Yenn. I just love you and can’t imagine my life without you.”

“Jaskier,” she says a little desperately.

“And it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way.” He smiles shakily. “I just want to be with you, however you’ll let me.”

Yennefer stares at him, torn between the urges to portal away and never look back and grab the idiot’s face and kiss him even more senseless. Jaskier is ridiculous, vain, and self-centered. He causes more trouble for the Redanian government than he fixes. He has angry lovers scattered across the Continent and probably at least one love child. She’s never met a more exasperating person.

And yet, she’s saved his life and he’s saved hers. They’ve dragged each other out of more scrapes than she can count. There have been a half a dozen times where Yennefer’s job would have been so much easier if she had turned away and left the bard to his fate, but she never did.  He’s an objectively beautiful man, so she’s blamed that and the soulmate magic for all the times she’s caught her gaze lingering on his fingers while he plucked at his lute strings or found her own lips curling in an answering smile when he laughs.

If she’s honest with herself, she can admit that there were several times she caught herself staring before the soulmarks manifested.

Yennefer doesn’t have time to be honest with herself, not with a poisoned soulmate, a handful of letters that could be the key to rousting out the network of Nilfgaardian spies they’ve been hunting for years, and a castle full of guards with swords.

“Jaskier,” she whispers, letting her hand settle on the front of his doublet. The fabric is silky beneath her hand.

His throat bobs as he swallows thickly. “Yennefer?”

“You could have just told me how you felt.”

“We’ve known each other for over a decade, Yenn, and I know I wasn’t subtle.”

She leans in close, feeling Jaskier’s breath ghost over her lips. His eyes go wide in surprise before they flutter shut. He leans towards her, lips parting…

And Yennefer pops the cork off the bottle of potion with her thumb before shoving it in his mouth. Jaskier makes a strangled noise of protest, his eyes flying open.

“Don’t spit it out,” she warns. “That’s the only dose I have.”

For once in his miserable life, Jaskier obeys, swallowing the purifying potion. Once it’s gone, Yennefer withdraws the bottle from his lips.

“You… absolute…” Jaskier doubles over with a groan, bracing his elbows on his thighs. “Fuck.”

“It would have been more pleasant if you had just taken it when I told you to,” Yennefer lies. She’s had to take a purifying potion several times, and it’s always like living a daylong hangover in a matter of minutes. It’s never anything approaching pleasant.

“Go fuck yourself.”

“I would, but I’m a little busy carrying this mission on my back and keeping the both of us alive.”

Jaskier’s only answer is a loud, long groan. Taking pity on him, Yennefer summons a chair from the other side of the library for him to sink into, rocking back and forth miserably. After several long minutes, Jaskier sits up, looking slightly green. His eyes are bloodshot.

“Fuck,” he says. “Next time someone poisons me, just let me die.”

“That was already the plan,” Yennefer deadpans.

He glares at her. “That was a dirty trick.”

“Had you just acted like a fucking adult and taken the potion, it wouldn’t have been necessary.”

“I was poisoned.”

“And whose fault is that?”

He huffs. “My memory is perfectly fine. Never fear, you and I will be talking about this after we get back to Tretogor alive and I’ve drunk my weight’s worth of water and maybe slept for a day or—”

His words are cut off in a shriek as Yennefer grabs him by the front of the doublet and yanks him through the portal.

They are never talking about this, she decides.

***

“I knew you liked me,” Jaskier says smugly a month later. They’re crammed together in a lice-infested bed in a lice-infested inn, on the hunt for another one of the Nilfgaardian spies exposed in the papers they liberated from the Duke’s estate. “Deep, deep down.”

Yennefer watches the way the violet flame on his wrist seems to flicker in the candlelight. “You knew shit all, bardling.”

“Nope, I remember clapping eyes on you for the first time and thinking to myself, ‘that woman is going to be madly, passionately in love with me within a decade, just wait and see.’”

“Funny, I remember seeing you for the first time and thinking, ‘I wonder when Phillipa started turning peacocks into men and letting them loose on the citizens of Redania.’”

“She did turn me into a peacock once. It was only for a few minutes, but it was fucking traumatizing.”

Yennefer snorts. “What kind of Est Est can she be bribed with? I’ll get her a thousand bottles if she does that again.”

“There aren’t a thousand bottles left, you witch.” Jaskier presses a kiss to her shoulder, then lifts her wrist to his mouth to kiss her dandelion soulmark. “Anyway, you seem to like me just fine as a man.”

“You have your uses.”

He huffs a laugh against her soulmark. “You can’t pretend you don’t adore me.”

She rolls her eyes at the ceiling. “Well, you did just go nearly twenty minutes without speaking, so I like you far more than I usually do.”

“I suppose that’s the key then.” Jaskier waggles his eyebrows. “You keep my mouth occupied.”

“No, the key is you shutting the fuck up once in a while.”

He frowns, considering. “Nah, I’ve tried that. Not for me.”

Yennefer sighs. “Bardling, you’re incorrigible.”

“You like it,” Jaskier says with entirely unearned confidence, pressing another kiss against her soulmark. If the sensation of his lips against her soulmark does something funny to her insides, that’s no one’s business but her own. Maybe this is just soulmate magic or destiny meddling where it has no business doing so, but it’s hard to care about that wrapped up in her soulmate’s arms, his lips against her pulse point and his heart beating against hers. She can’t think of anywhere else she’d rather be.

At least, until he falls on top of her and starts to snore.

***

Tag list:  @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @mosaicscale @tsukiwolf42 @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard

[happybird16]

Escape VIII

The Storm

Levi Ackerman / Fem Reader

Mermaid AU

Escape Masterlist Link

Chapter Warnings: Angst followed by fluff, sex mention

Word Count: 6k

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39039084/chapters/97920930#workskin

Last Chapter | Next Chapter

Hopping over the rough barricade and turning the corner, you hear him chirp in greeting before you even catch sight of him. The weather is cooler, the breeze already chilly with a hint of the end of summer. An end of the warm sunny days that seem both too long and not long enough. The thought only makes you feel worse. 

 “You're late,” he calls, ears flapping curiously as he turns to watch you almost sprint across the small bend. You kick up sand in your wake, no doubt spreading to close the back of your legs, but that doesn’t matter. 

 “Levi!” Your backpack is all but tossed to the side, landing rough and noisily in the sand, before you throw yourself into his arms.

 Pressing a watery kiss to kiss shoulder, you swallow a sob building in your throat. It’s almost difficult, like gulping around a hard ball lodged in your throat. “I missed you.” 

Nose pressed into his collarbone, you sniffle a bit as you nuzzle into his skin. It’s not the first time you’ve cried in his presence, but there’s an urgent worry that it might be the last. 

A soft, purring rumble builds in his chest, vibrating against your face. It’s soothing, a purposeful gesture to bring you some ease in your upset. 

A hand quickly rises to smooth along your back, long soothing strokes from your shoulder blades and along your spine. 

 “What’s wrong? Were customer’s assholes to you again today?” Voice tinged with worry, his other arm rises from the sand to hug around your waist and pull you into his lap. 

 “Yeah, but also it’s sort of everything all at once.” Despite your best efforts, your voice ends up cracking a bit, struggling around a wet bubble lodged deep in your throat. 

 Working a shitty retail job for unforgiving; he’s heard you complain about it often enough. Though, Levi finds some of your stories entertaining, particularly the ones where the customers ended up embarrassing themselves. Karen stories in particular are his favorites, you often spend your lunch breaks looking up more for him. 

 You already feel a bit calmer, bolstered a bit just from his presence. Sliding your head to rest against his shoulder, you swirl your pointer finger in meaningless patterns along the skin right in front of your eyes. Looping scrawled swirls, awkward imperfect circles, your name in messy cursive; you watch your finger drag along the pale skin. 

 “Sometimes I wish I could live peacefully in the sea, like you do. No retail work or shitty customers.” Your gaze strays from his pale skin out towards the already darkening horizon. 

 He was right, you were a bit later than usual. The sun is already beginning its nightly downward journey across the sky; tingeing a rich orange as it makes its voyage into the sea. The puffy clouds surrounding it are a soft pastel orange, darkening to a soothing grey as they spread away from the setting star. 

 The line separating the sea from the sky is a dark, furious red. Almost the color of the glass at your throat. The waves are already nearly black, unusually choppy, with high white-tipped waves splashing along the coast. 

 There must be a storm coming. It almost makes you feel relieved. Your storms already arrived, dark and ominous like you had predicted. At least the universe seems to feel the same. 

 Your spiraling thoughts are interrupted by the calm vibration of his deep tenors. “Life hasn’t always been peaceful for me. I didn’t always live in the shallow waters along the coast, spending my days lazily basking in the warmth of the sun.”

 Levi seems to struggle a bit, you can’t see his face in this position, but you feel him take a long shaky breath before continuing the thought. ”I grew up in the Depths. The deeper and darker waters were frigid and unforgiving. Food was hard to get without a fight. It was quite common for Mers to fight, hard and bloody, over prey; or even an odd warm spot in the freezing water. Some would die in pursuit of a nice cave to lay their nest in. Mers there would do anything, trade anything, in order to survive. It was rough. Not exactly like your human life, but similar enough.”

 “Is that how you got your scars?” You smooth a hand over some of the shiny marks decorating his shoulder blades. Sometimes, you almost forget that they’re there. 

 “Most of them. I got pretty good at fighting, gained a sort of a reputation. After my mother… I had some help when I was younger, someone willing to teach me how to survive.” He’d told you about his mother before, briefly. That she’d passed when he’d been very young. He’d seemed sort of tense, so you hadn’t wanted to press for too many details. 

 “There weren’t really pods down there, everyone kind of just survived on their own or in tight family units. I did what I had to. I made some friends though, and if I wanted something most of the time I could find something to trade.” 

 “Trade? Mers have some sort of a barter system?” 

 The fingers at your back briefly raise to drum against your skin, a soft, thoughtful movement. 

“It’s more common down in the Depths. Mers like to collect shiny, pretty things.” 

 Pretty thing, just like he calls you. 

 “They’re usually gems, or some fancy metal human objects. Sometimes you can trade them for something else shiny that you want. Or food if you're desperate and can’t catch it yourself.”

 “Seems so much simpler than capitalism.”

 He hums in response, trilling lightly deep in his throat. “It’s not really necessary up in the shallows. Most of the Mers are kinder, more willing to stick together and help out for nothing.”

 “I’m glad that you got out of there.”

 “You’ll have to thank Erwin for that. To this day I still don’t know why he was wandering down there, but he’s so big that nearly everyone was scared of him. He’s the one who brought me up here to the shallows.”

 You wonder, briefly, how hard that must have been for him. To adjust to a whole new, more friendly society. No longer living somewhere where every second is a struggle; a potential fight right around the corner. To shift from living in heavy, pitch black waters to bright, shining shores. 

 “Erwin? He’s the one with the map collection, right?”

 After burning their names into your memory, you’d actually remembered to ask more about them. Erwin has a collection of water logged maps, apparently, and is obsessed with the history of the world. 

 Hange, on the other hand, apparently collects human tech, broken and waterlogged by the waves. His emphasis on their collections makes a bit more sense now. 

 He bobs his head in response to your question, chin shifting from where it rests on your shoulder blade. An ear flicks to bat at the side of your head, making a happy giggle almost break through your lingering sadness. 

 “I’ll be sure to thank him when I meet him,”  you pat Levi’s back a few times, jokingly mimicking the term he’d used when you’d asked before to meet his friends: “Eventually.”

 Levi’s hands slide along your waist, pulling you forward so he can look you in the eye. “You said it was more than that though, that upset you?”

 You hadn’t really wanted to bring it up. The real reason that you’d been so upset. But his story bolstered you. Plus, your raging storm has already come, its destructive path might as well continue onwards. 

 “I don’t want to go college.” Tears build back in the corners of your eyes, you can already feel yourself choking over a new round of sobs building deep in your throat. 

 “College is more school, right?” Gaze worried, his fingers come up to soothe along your teary cheeks, thumbs worrying at the salty lines. 

 It always boggles you what human concepts he knows and doesn’t. He’d known what a cow was, but the concept of school had been completely foreign to him when you’d first mentioned it.

 “Yeah, it’s like -bigger, more important school.” An oversimplification, but it works, more or less. 

 “And this upsets you?” Levi’s voice is still slow, tinged with confusion. Dark brows drawn tight, his steely eyes seem to almost be searching your own for answers. 

 “I’m too old. And I don’t want to leave.” Your voice cracks helplessly at the admission. 

 “Leave? You never said anything about leaving?” Now he’s worried too, ears tilting back almost frantically as his silver gaze bores into your own. His grip along your waist tightens, as if he could somehow hold you in place. Keep you right there, locked tight against his scales. 

 “There are no colleges in this tiny little town. I’d have to live in a dorm.” It feels like your small coastal hometown is dying, full of nothing but empty storefronts and old people. The roadsides filled with nothing but big chain stores and old boarded up brick buildings. There’s no point in even a tiny community college, almost everyone leaves as soon as they graduate high school. But not you. 

 “My mom is demanding that I go, she’s been pretty urgent about it for a while. Says that I’ve spent too much time toiling around and doing nothing after high school. That I have to do something with my life.” Tears building back up along the corners of your eyes, they almost sting along your cheeks. Choking back a sob, you nuzzle your forehead back into his shoulder blade. 

 “Why’s this the first time I’m hearing about this?” His hand rises once again, fingers winding swirling loops along your shoulder blades. 

 “I didn’t want to mention it. Didn’t want to put a time limit on our time together. Plus, I thought she’d eventually give up if I ignored her long enough,” you almost spit the words out, lips brushing his skin. 

 “And she confronted you about it again today?”

 A sob builds large in your throat and you swallow hard, helplessly attempting to stop it. “She threw a fit. Started throwing all of the stuff in my room.” You’d just stopped home for a minute after work, the split second decision sending your life into a sudden inevitable downward spiral. 

 “That doesn’t sound okay. Are you sure you're safe?” Levi tugs at your shoulders once again, pulling you to meet his worried gaze. Eyes desperately searching your face to find any sign of injury; of genuine fear lingering in your features. 

 You shrug a bit in response, wet tears beading along your chin and down your neck. “She broke a bunch of the shells you gave me.” Shoulders shaking, the dam you’ve desperately been holding back finally breaks. The high cement wall you’d desperately cobbled together finally giving way beneath the weight of your despair. The giant sob strangling and bubbling up in your throat finally fills the air, beginning and endless looping cycle. 

 He pulls back further against his chest. You break, sobbing helplessly against his collarbone, no doubt leaving a smear of wetness on his skin. Clawing desperately into his skin, fingers digging in along the curve of his waist and in the fine shaven hairs along the back of his head. You pull him desperately against you, just as he does the same. 

 “Levi… I…she…” You‘re congested, nose clogged up with mucus. It makes it sort of hard to speak, like you're around swallowing something thick and slimy in your throat. 

 “…said she’s going to sell all of the glass…” The words are barely a mumble, your lips brushing against his skin. They’re a bit high and slurred; congestion and shaky swollen lips combining efforts to thwart you. You can’t help the crack in your voice, a loud whiny noise filling the air. 

 Levi kisses your shoulder softly, shushing you as you sob a bit. One hand soothing along the back of your hair, while the other winds a mindless rhythm along your back. 

 “Deep breaths. Deep breaths.” His hand trails long winding paths down you back, the scaly pads of his fingers dragging against the fabric of your shirt. The gesture soothes you, giving you strength to gulp down the rest of your tears. 

 “She’s threatening to kick me out if I don’t apply. It’s the whole reason I started coming here in the first place, to avoid her.”

 Your hands lift tangle frantically into your hair, almost pulling at the roots. “I work a shitty retail job. I can’t afford any places in this area! It’s either leave for college or become homeless.” 

 “There aren’t any other options?” He seems confused, trying to understand the complicated system humans have created. 

 “I could get a couple roommates, share a tiny apartment, but I don’t really deal well with other people. Especially in close quarters.”

 “I can understand that.” You get the impression that he’s sort of the same way. There’s a reason he’d picked his cave far away from the rest of his pod. 

 “There's nothing that I really want to study anyways. I don’t want to rack up debt and end up in a dead end job with no way to pay it off. Sometimes it fills me with so much panic that I just want to run away from it all. Escape from everything.”

 He bobs his head again in understanding. The concept of debt must be familiar to him, a result of growing up in the Depths. 

 “Maybe I could just live here on the beach with you. I could figure out something to do for food. Maybe learn to fish. It doesn’t get too cold around here in the winter…” You feel like you're grasping desperately at straws, desperate for any sense of freedom. Like you’re drowning: waters dark and waves high from your storm, desperate to grab any floating object. 

 “I don’t want to go! I don’t want to leave you. Levi…I…” The weight of your storm, your destructive hurricane, finally topples you; robbing you of all your energy and leaving you limp against his shoulder. This is it. This is it. This is it. The words throb endlessly in your head, burning across your brain in a nonstop loop. 

 You feel another panic attack beginning in your lungs, like hands tightening around them and leaving you unable to choke in any air. It’s useless. Everything’s useless. Your mythical, magical world has finally come to an end. 

 “Shh shh. It’ll be alright,” Levi tries to sooth your panic, chest rumbling a soft calming rhythm once again. “Everything will be fine. Breathe.”

 “How! Erg… I’m trapped.” This is the end. This is it. This’ll be the last time you see him. Levi, the love of your life. “There’s nothing that I can do but go…I…”

 Blinking hard against the last of your tears, you choke long desperate breaths against his neck. Focusing on the feel of his warm skin, soft beneath your fingertips. The calming, inhuman rhythm rumbling deep from his chest. The soft, albeit scaly fingers winding circles along your spine. 

 This might be the last time you see him. You suddenly, desperately want to tell him how you feel. As if that will change anything. The hopeless thought makes you sniffle against his neck once again. 

 There’s an award beat where Levi struggles with himself before speaking. You can feel the words begin to vibrate in his chest, his shoulders rising with the start, before he pauses and tries again. 

 “Or… you could join me in the water. Become a Mer.” He sounds shy, this is the most hesitant you’ve heard his voice since the first time he spoke to you in full sentences. 

 His words take a moment for you to process. Like a puzzle piece that refuses to fit right in the grooves of your mind. 

 This time you lean back on your own, pushing away from his chest in order to lock his gaze with yours. Levi seems to struggle a bit with the eye contact, an unusual, nervous gesture. 

 ”That’s possible? I thought that sort of thing was all wives tales.” Your brain feels sort of like it’s broken into shards yet again, like the very first time you’d met the Mer, but in a happy way. 

 ”It is. There was a point where males were rare, pups even more so. Some sort of plague only affecting the males. The Mers at the time figured out some sort of magic, a way for them to lure in unsuspecting sailors and turn them into Mers.” 

 The image fills you with a vague sense of dread. Remembering the old tales of sailors being enchanted by sirens, pulled overboard never to be seen again. They suddenly make so much more sense. You couldn’t imagine being drowned; frantically and violently ripped from one reality and into another. 

 ”You asked me once how I know English? That’s how.” It suddenly makes sense why he seems to know so much about humanity and yet so little at the same time; why his people speak a mix of both Mer and English. They were taught by their once-human ancestors, by pirates and sailors turned Mer. 

 ”So I’ll be like you? With the beautiful ruffles?” You slide your hands along his back with the words, careful with the sensitive layers of pleated cartilage. 

 ”Maybe? There’s a bunch of different variants of Mer. Species?” He pauses a moment at the word, unsure which term to use. ”If you choose to do it, there’s no way of knowing which one you’d favor.”

 He’d given you a rough description of his friends before. Erwin, a Shark-Mer, Levi had said. A huge bulky Great White from his description. You can’t help but wonder if he has rows and rows of sharp teeth, instead of the single line of fine points that Levi has. 

 Or the Octopus-Mer Hange. He’d complained about them several times, always clinging to him with their grubby suction cupped limbs. When you’d asked him to describe them further, he’d only remarked that they’re very purple. That they wear an odd human set of human goggles, one lens cracked long before they’d even found it. 

 Maybe you’ll actually get to meet them now. 

 ”I hope I end up like you. All beautiful.” At the very least you hope you won’t be an octopus. No offense to Hange, but operating that many limbs seems like too much for your brain to handle. 

 He’s always so embarrassed when you comment on his appearance, though to be fair the same rings true for yourself. His ears tinge a bit at your words, flicking back as he pauses to wet his lips. 

 “The transformation was rarely ever perfect, there were always some left overs from human life. The sailors usually missed something small, some inconsequential feature. Their ears weren’t tipped with fins, or their skin wasn’t quite as tough as it should've been.”

 “That doesn’t seem like a big deal.”

 “It’d be obvious that you were human once. Other Mers would know immediately. It’s not really done anymore. They might treat you differently.”

 “Like Mikasa?” You remember her hissing at you, you can still hear it ringing in your ears. 

 “Sort of. Most of my pod knows about you, but others might be a little cruel.” It warms you to know that he’s talked about you to his pod. His family. 

 “Are you trying to scare me off, now? I’m sure you’ll be around to defend me.”

 He hums in lieu of a response, suddenly oddly silent as he trails his hand along the skin of your back. 

 “How does it work, though?” The stories that you remembered always had it as the result of true love's kiss, or something along those lines. That must not be the case, though, as you're already more than familiar with Levi’s lips. 

 His shoulders tense at your question. The words made him almost wince, his brows pinching together. He purses his mouth, lips opening and closes a few times before pressing together in a thin line. Adam's apple bobbing along the jut of his throat with a deep swallow. You’ve never seen him hesitate so much to speak, not even on that very first day. 

 “Wait, why are you only telling me this now? There’s something you're not telling me.” There’s something in his face, an extra nervous tilt to his brows, and a tightness to his jaw that leaves you feeling equally anxious. The exhilaration building along the back of your head suddenly shifts to worry. 

 He takes a deep breath before answering, shoulders rising with the strength of the intake. ”I’ve been meaning to broach the subject for a while…” Levi lifts a hand to tug nervously at the loop hanging from his ear, making the hook-loop jingle a high metal noise. 

 “It… I’d have to claim you as my mate,” the words come out in a breathy rush. It’s the fastest you’ve ever heard him speak, he’s usually so careful and thoughtful about his words. Meticulously choosing his sentences before they fill the air. 

 Levi’s blushing even harder now, his gaze straying from yours. He shifts the hand to scratch nervously at his ear, the fin flopping a bit at the attention. It almost springs back up, sort of like a dog's ear that's been flipped inside out. 

 Your heartbeat thrums loudly in your ears, mind buzzing loudly at his words. Mate. 

 “Mate? Is that even possible? Are we… compatible?” It feels sort of like you're drowning, but in a happy way. Like the butterflies in your stomach have decided to flood into your lungs. 

 You hadn’t even thought sex would be possible with him. You’ve dreamt of it, sure. Thought of it every time you touched yourself, desperate for release. But he wasn’t human. His people came from eggs. You know some fish don’t even have sex, just fertilizing random eggs left along the ocean floor. 

 You weren't sure how Mers procreated, but they were sort of like mammals. They clearly breast feed their young, as evident by the human-like nipples adorning their chests. You’d been too afraid to really broach the subject, sort of dreading the answer. 

 It all just sort of made sense to you that you wouldn’t be able to fit together like that. You were more than happy with just kissing. The frantic way he grips at your hip and groans when you slide your tongue against his was more than enough. The possibility though, fills you with excitement. 

 You eye along where his crotch would be, the soft baby-scales below the deep v of his hips. The area seems smooth. Absent of any sort of telling bulge, sort of like a Ken doll. 

 “Yes. W…we are.”  Levi shifts a hand to grip your own, pulling it into his lap in order to distract himself. Or perhaps to cover the area from your straying gaze. 

 He takes another deep breath, the skin of his belly bulging with it to brush against the back of your hand. He hesitates again before finally clicking his teeth, frustrated by his own nerves. 

 “But… my kind…my species mates for life. Not all Mers do. Most don’t in fact.” He still sounds so shaky. He hadn’t even paused this much when speaking during your first conversation.

 The words make your breath catch high in your throat, but you let him speak. It feels like if you interrupt him he might lose whatever strength he found in order to get the words out. 

 “The ones in your story books, those Mers who used to enchant sailors, they’re much more casual.” Levi’s still playing with your hand, his larger digits pitching one of your fingers between the pads of his own. He smooths a scaly finger along the curve of your nail, rubbing it against the blunt tip. The gesture seems to sooth him, giving him strength. His next words sound firmer, less hesitant. 

 “My family is a bit different, though. Special. We form some sort of magic bond with our partner, from what I’ve heard. I’ve never actually seen it.” 

 You curl your fingers against his, pulling him into a rough hand-hold. It’s a first, you’ve never thought to try it before, and it only sort of works. Your knuckles are way too high, limited by the stretch of membrane between his digits. The pads can barely touch his knuckles, though you try to brush them along the ridges. To soothe him the way he’s so recently soothed you. 

 He seems to appreciate the gesture, his shoulders losing some of their stiffness. They’d been almost up to his ears, tense with worry. He looks a bit stronger now though, a bit less hesitant. 

 You feel comfortable finally chiming in, questions burning on the tip of your tongue. “Bond?”

 “It supposedly lets us know when our mate is in danger. Lends us strength in order to defend them. Our one and only.” 

 His grip tightens on your hand, thumb sliding along your pointer finger from knuckle to knuckle. Eyes still not meeting yours, locked on the twining grasp in his lap. 

 ”Some can overcome the urge, if they’re desperate enough. If it’s a matter of survival.” There’s a far off, sort of haunted look in his eyes, something dark dwelling in their depths. ”It comes at a cost, though.”

 “A cost? Someone in your family did it?”

 ”My mother. She had to in order to survive in the Depths, she had nothing else to trade but herself. And she was all alone. Then I came along, making things even harder. The stress and sickness from it ended up killing her.” Levi’s dark gaze hardens, sharp eyes glaring down at your clasped hands. 

 “I’m sorry…that must have been so painful for her. And for you to watch…” You can’t even imagine the pain she must have gone through. “You’ve mentioned her before, right? That she looked sort of like you?”

 “Yes, we share the same coloring. And the ruffles- as you call them,” Levi shrugs, jostling the arm you have winded around his shoulders. You can feel the muscles of his tail shift beneath you, as he delivers a sharp slap into the unusually loud surf. He huffs, loud and airy, eyes still distant in thought. 

 “She must have been beautiful.” You can picture her easily, just like the man by your side, but with more feminine features. Longer hair, dark blue scales dusting along the curve of her chest. Beautiful. Someone like that deserves to live up in the sun, soaking in the warm rays in her leisure. Not down in the dark depths, wallowing in constant pain. “She didn’t deserve that.”

 “It’s what she had to do. She did her best to hide it all from me, but I could tell whenever she was struggling.” He takes a deep, shuddering, breath, before lifting his eyes to meet your own. 

 “But I’m not interested in doing anything of that sort. There would be no after. This would be it for me.” He gestures between the two of you with a flick of his darkened fingers. “You’d be it for me.”

 He pauses again, pink tongue peeking out to yet his lips. “Is…that something you’d be interested in? I’m not sure how serious… this is to you… “The words sound so shy. He’s normally so assertive, the effect is almost startling. 

 Taking a shaky breath of your own; shoulders shaking, both in relief and building disbelief. Brushing your thumb against his, you tighten the misaligned grip resting in his lap. Sliding your other hand along his cheek, thumb kissing the smattering of soft baby scales along his cheekbone. ”Levi, I’d love to be your mate.”

 “Are you sure? I…”

 “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.” It suddenly feels like everything is right in the world. Like your storm has passed, leaving everything shiny and new. This is everything you could have ever wanted. It feels fake, like another reality that could break into shards at one wrong turn. 

 He flicks his tail happily along the rough waves, ears fluttering with joy. A happy trill vibrates deep in his throat. 

 “It doesn’t have to be immediately. I’m more than willing to wait if you need time to settle your human life. Or if you want to bring anything along.” The words come out fast, excited despite the attempt to give you some assurance. 

 You think of your room, once full of nothing but trinkets he’d gifted to you. Your car, the cell phone in your glove box no doubt buzzing with angry texts. The only thing you’d have liked to keep was that first pink shell he’d given you, but your mother had smashed it in her tantrum. Nothing but small shards of the waxy bone remaining. There’s really nothing worth staying for. All you need is him and the necklace hanging around your throat. 

 “Now is fine. I have everything I need right here.” You raise a hand to touch the red glass between your collarbones. He seems more than happy with the gesture, tail flipping happily once again. 

 Still there’s so much you don’t know. So much about the world you're about to delve into that remains foreign, a looming mystery. Their culture, their society. You still don’t even know how Mers breed, not really. 

 You decide to voice your lingering fear, gaze locked onto the tight grip laying against his scales. “Would…would I be able to get pregnant from this?” 

 “It wouldn’t be possible until… after.” There’s some lingering shyness in his eyes, though he seems strengthened. Emboldened by your reciprocation; by the joyful smile stretching across your cheeks. 

 You still feel a bit watery, a bit gross and unsettled from all the snot and tears. You take a quick moment to wipe your face into your sleeve, trying to remove some of the lingering gritty-stickiness from your cheeks. This day has been nothing but an emotional upheaval, but now you're smiling wide and open. Eager to learn more about this new, exciting future by his side. 

 “How does that work exactly? I’ve been sort of meaning to ask…but I was too afraid of the answer to really broach the topic.” It’s all you can do to calm your smile, your cheeks feeling tight and hot. His silvery gaze is warm, shining with almost a smile as they meet your own. 

 “From what I’ve been told, you’ll be able to feel an egg forming, somewhere low in your belly.” With the words, Levi smooths his hand along the aforementioned skin, dragging his fingers lazily along your abdomen. 

 “It's usually about once a year or so, growing to be ready for me to fertilize. We’d just avoid that time until we’re ready for pups. If that’s even something you’re interested in…” It’s not really a question, but you can hear the curious lilt in his tone. 

 Even that sounded a lot easier than human life. Visions of little Mers swim along your mind's eye, dark haired, backs trailing with beautiful colored ruffles - a bit of him and you mixed together. 

 “Maybe eventually. There’s going to be so much for me to learn. I’m a bit more concerned with learning to swim at the moment, to be honest.”

 He nods his head in agreement, thumb curving along the bone of your hip.  “You’ll pick up on a lot of it almost immediately, I’m sure. Most hatchlings can swim instinctively right out of the shell.”

 The hand rises to tilt your chin between his finger and thumb, pulling you forward into a deep kiss. His jaw works beneath your fingers as his lips pull on your own.

 “I can’t wait to make you mine.” The words are airy, breathed hot right against your lips. His tone is still full of disbelief, a feeling that you echo. 

 Fingers still tight in his lap, his thumb trails lazily along your knuckle. You can feel him smile, lips upturned against your own. His tail slaps happily along the surf, almost like a dog wagging its tail. 

 The kiss deepens, his jaw shifting beneath the hand you’ve placed on his cheek. He groans, breathing a hot puff of air against your cheek, sliding his hot tongue into your mouth. Lifting a hand to the back of your head, he tilts you to get even deeper. His slick appendage winding impossibly with your own. 

 It makes you dizzy, arousal already buzzing high along the back of your head. Your thighs are already tense, warm with lust. The little noises he makes, soft hums and grunts, as he drinks you in almost make your clit burn. 

 “Do you…here?” The words are mumbled right against his lips. You're not exactly opposed, but…the sand might be a bit uncomfortable. 

 Pulling away from the lip lock, Levi’s eyes are startlingly bright in the low light. A warm silvery-blue that locks steadily with your own. “While there would be some poetic irony in us mating where we first met, I’d like to take you to my cave.”

 His cave? Levi had promised to bring you there sometime, those scant few weeks ago when you’d laid curled up on a hot stone island together. The thought of finally seeing his home, of him taking you; changing you; in the safety of his cave, fills you with even more excitement. 

 “Let’s go.” You don’t say it, but there’s almost a desperate plea to your voice. 

 Scooping you closer to him, Levi pulls you tight to his chest, hands curling along your hip and across your back. ”Do you want to take your bag?” He gestures towards it with a flick of his scaly fingers. 

 “I don’t think I’ll need my shoes.” Or your socks, for that matter. 

 He laughs, leaning forward to give you a firm peck on the lips. “You're right.”

 “Hold on tight and take a deep breath, okay. You might want to close your eyes, I’m going to swim faster than before.” The water does look rough, dark and white-tipped with an oncoming storm. It’s probably for the best that this journey be quick. 

 He tucks your right up against him, shoulder digging into his chest, both of your legs thrown over his other arm. Carrying you like a bride, you suddenly realize. Which you sort of are, more or less. You smile, happy with the thought. 

 You wonder how long it’ll be before you're declared missing, your beat up old Honda found in the overgrown parking lot. Your boss will no doubt gripe about you missing work, pushing your work onto others. You wonder if it’ll be declared a kidnapping or a runaway. Knowing your mother, you're leaning more towards the latter option. Maybe it’ll be declared a drowning once they discover your shoes along the shoreline. It doesn’t really matter in the end. 

 “Ready?” His deep tenor rumbles, vibrating through your chest. 

 Taking a deep breath, you fill your lungs as far as you can, stretching them to they’re limit. You nod your head, wrapping your arms around his neck and tucking your head into his shoulder. 

 “Pound on my back if you need more air.”

 You take one last look at the sunset. The glowing orb is now such a deep tone that it’s nearly red as it drifts below the horizon. The line between the orange sky and rough tide is now nearly black beneath its burning descent. The deep shade casts a rich shadow across the soft sand, darkening the shores you played along as a small child. Curling your toes into the soft sand one last time, you drink in the sight. It’s a beautiful sunset. Your last as a human. 

 The thought fills your chest with glee.

[pxgeturner]

Boo, Baby

Pairing: Ghost!Henry Creel x Brown!afab!reader (use of feminine words + prns (she/they) too!)

Themes: Ghost lover, pining, unrequited love, horror, fluff.

Warnings: Main character deaths (but that does stop henry? No ;P), gore (Detailed murder of the Creel family).

AU: Slasher in Hawkins , ages of the Creel siblings reversed, Modern ST (everything takes place roughly thirty years later than canon, so the story is set first in the eighties and later in present day.)

Summary: Henry, who was murdered with his family, remains a ghost. But after decades of nothing, finds something in a pretty little angel who’s moved into his home.

Word Count: 1.95k

Translations: Batta - duck, batteta - duckling, Dubba - bear cub/chubby, Muñequita - doll .

—————————————

The Summer before Henry goes college was shaping up to be the grandest yet. A road trip all the way down to sunny California. Truly, it was glorious. Even if Henry didn’t have any friends because he was… different and his classmates could tell. It was glorious because he was with his family, who understood, who supported him to continuously develop his abilities. Of course safety had to be of the highest priority, per the request of his worrying mother. He was always careful, mostly because he was always either practicing using his power or keeping his kid sister out of trouble.

It was glorious.

Until it wasn’t

It was hot summer night, just like every other. As Henry and Alice set the table for a delicious dinner of their mother’s extraordinary roast beef, the doorbell rang. Victor was the one to go answer as his lovely wife was busy finishing the roast. The father started to greet the guest and lets out a breathless yell in pain as the front of his body is torn apart in two diagonal cuts. At the cry of her husband, Virginia signals to the kids to stay in place through the doorway between the kitchen and dining room before she goes to investigate. Upon seeing the mangled body of her love she calls out for her kids to flee. She knows that she will not escape with a murderer right infront of her. Hopefully her beautiful babies, by the grace of God, will be safe.

The man steps on the corpse of Victor to get to her, the body squelchs with the pressure, his boots kicking the head as he moves forward. He pulls his right hand in, holding it against his left shoulder with his machete pointing towards the ceiling. The pathetic woman doesn’t even move an inch. He doesn’t bother to stop to kill this one, realeaseing his arm, roughly slicing into her neck. But the cut isn’t a mere slit, the bone has been cut through. The head is detached from her head, exception being a flab of skin that remained unsevered.

He moved on to the children, looking throughout the house, but they were nowhere inside. He peers through an upstair window out into the backyard to spot the two little blonds running into the woods. He opens the latch and steps onto the roof and jumps down to the next level, before rolling onto the grass. He recovers swift;y and bounds ahead, pursuing his targets. The girl is on the back of her brother, he’s lean— fast. Not exactly an easy mark right now, but he can probably get the girl, she’s vulnerabl, although small. Alice tentatively looks back, hoping to only see the house shrinking behind them. But the man is hot on their trail, and she screams, startling Henry and causing him to trip and for both of them to fall. The man stops a few feet ahead of the two of them. He crouched down and digs into his boot, and fishes out a hunting knife. He brings his hand beside his head preparing to throw and flicks his wrist. The blade lodges itself dead center of the teen girl’s forehead, instantly killing her. The Last Surviving Creel screams in mourning for his sister, crawling over to hold her limp body. The Killer trudges around to stand behind his final victim. He takes a knee to pull out an identical knife. He takes hold of Henry’s hair and slits the throat, relishing the warm feeling of blood flow onto his hand.

~~~

Thuck, thunk, thunk. There’s people upstairs! The last time people were here were… when they were renovating. Henry didn’t really like that, it felt like all the memories were being erased. But the cobwebs covereed them up long before that. The reno actually revived the house, they kept a surprising amount of the original structure. It was more like a glorified deep clean and the acquisition of new appliances. Henry pushs up and floats up to the main floor where burly men are placing down couches and bring in mattresses. He flies outside to see a moving van behind a real estate sign with ‘SOLD’ slapped over it. One of the men from inside comes out and yells for “Batta” then “Dubba”.

A short young woman with a luggage in tow steps onto the curb and into view, “You Duck-bear is right here, Baba.” she steps back, “Whoa,” and almost falls.

“Be careful, muñeca!” exclaims her mother, supporting her from behind.

They steady themself “I’m-I’m okay, Amá, I’m fine.” she walks up the path, stopping half way. “Now This, is a house! How did we afford this?” she looks at her father.

“They were eager to sell, Batteta.” they nod and hum in response.

As she approaches the porch and hands her Baba the handle to the suitcase. “Well, I love the upgrade.” as they pass the door they comment on their adoration of the stained glass. Henry sticks his head through the window to get a closer look at her face— one thing about being a ghost is that boundaries aren’t really an issue— she has a round nose and big brown eyes with bushy brown and long lashes framing them. She’s smiling so big, full lips pulling tight in joy. Their fingers graze the glass as she examines it, her fingers lingering on his cheek. He leans into the caress, despite knowing it’s not purposeful.

Having flesh-and-blood people in the house is harder than Henry expected. There was no more wandering around the house as he pleased, lest he accidentally intrude on someone’s privacy. There was no more peace and quiet; the mother ‘s always cleaning, the father is constantly building or something, both parents frequently call their relatives and speak loudly on the phone, the daughter, that angel of a girl blasts music at all hours of the day. They dance a lot too, it’s not very good, but she could definitely handle herself at a party. Even so, he loves it, they way she loses herself to the music, it’s total self expression.

Henry mainly passes time by hanging out with Teal, the bold jumping spider living in the house that he considers to be his pet. Teal follows him everywhere now. Since it’s the middle of summer, the parents are out all day while their child stay home. The first day Henry and them were left alone, he went upstairs to hang out with her. She waslounging on the bed in a pair of cute little shorts and a tank top, listening to music and wiggling along, a true vision in pink. Her playlist is an interesting mix, truly a bit of everything. She gets up and her swaying starts to evolve. After a long while of dancing, they slumped into the deskchair and gulped down water. She looked down at the desk and noticed a certain small black-and-white critter. Instantly she frozed, but slowly relaxed and extended her hand to the spider.

Henry starts to worry, having noticed their arachnophobia before. He curls around her, his side parallel to the floor. She pouts pensively at the bug “You’re a Bold Jumper,” Teal crawls into her hand and she picks up her phone. She selects a video call option and waits for it to go through. Henry waits, observing in case something goes wrong.

Soon, a kid their age pops up on the screen, “Hey Babe! How’s Indiana treating you?”

“It’s lonely. But look,” she hold teal up to the camera, “I think I made a new friend!”

“That’s a bold jumper! I thought you didn’t like spiders?”

She affirms, “I don’t! But this little guy seems special. Plus he’s so soft.” She pets his head

“Well if he’s gonna be your friend he need a name.” the friend suggests.

“Teal,” they say definitively. Henry’s eyes almost pop out of his ectoplasmic head.

“Hey, gorgeous?”

“Yeah?”

“I gotta go, I’ll call you tonight?” she agrees and turns her focus completely to the arachnid. She transfers him to other hand as Henry floats up. The crowns of their heads touch and his feet are planted to the ceiling. He reaches out to her free hand and brushes fingers against theirs. She shivers a bit at the skin-to-skin.

Henry could get used to this.

—————————————

I feel like this took forever, especially since I had the vampire Eddie idea last night n it got finished in like 30 minutes while i spent like a week or smth on this.

Lowkey inspired by this by @amourrs

[elsanna-shenanigans]

June Contest Submission #1: Landslide

Words:  ca. 6,000 Setting: modern AU Lemon: lime Content:  angst Image: Link Song: Landslide - Fleetwood Mac

~~~

“Up the mountain, up the mountain,” Anna grumbles to herself, rolling her eyes at the swirling overcast sky. This town is obsessed with the goddamn mountain. Every time it’s snowing, or sunny, or there’s simply nothing better to do, it’s always let’s go up the mountain! “It’s so magical,” She huffs. “It’s a spiritual place where you learn things about yourself,” she puffs. Yeah, right.

She stops for a moment to catch her breath, icy air stinging her lungs and the ache of lactic acid settling in her tired muscles. Leaning forward, resting her hands on her knees, she shakes her head. “Magical? My ass.”

A few snowflakes flutter gently down, impossibly white. So white that they shimmer iridescent. Tiny rainbows. Sparkling like glitter in the crisp, clean air. Odd. But not magical. Pfft, that’s ridiculous. It’s just light refracting into different wavelengths or something. Whatever. Anna never paid much attention in science class.

She shovels a handful of trail mix into her mouth and grimaces - it tastes like dirt.

She’d forgotten how breathtaking it is up here. How green, how wet, how staggeringly tall the centurion pines and mountain ashes are, caressing the sky. The lush symmetry of broad ferns glistening with beads of dew. The rich, dense texture of crumbling mossy logs. This town worships the landmark like it’s the artistry of the gods, but Anna has most often failed to see the wonder from down in the city. To her, it resembles a shadow. An ominous, dark lump of verdant green looming over the town like a bad omen. Blocking the light of the sun and casting its cold, lifeless gloom over them all.

It’s a little dramatic, sure, but how else is Anna supposed to feel about the damn thing? It stole Elsa away.

The mountain is surprisingly noisy. It vibrates with a constant hum and thrum of life. A buzzing and clicking cacophony of insects and birdsong, the trickle of a nearby stream and the distant roar of a far-away waterfall. It’s refreshing after the deafening silence Anna has grown accustomed to. One-sided conversations, messages sent but not seen. Birthdays and Christmases gone by without so much as a card. The Friday nights they once spent watching terrible eighties horror movies together, wearing swampy green face-masks and eating more candy than adults should - now spent alone, nursing her sorrow.

The memories hurt now, like thorns lodged in her heart. Like the suffocating silence of a winter night, frigid cold air coalescing into the shape of Elsa’s absence. The lump in her throat swallowed down, now an icy lump in her chest. Numbing her slowly, over time, but always there.

Sometimes Anna calls her, knowing it won’t ring, just to hear her voice on the message bank. Just to pretend for twenty seconds that things went differently. That they made different decisions. That one thing led to another and led to another and somehow they ended up in a different timeline where she could still feel those arms around her.

It became too painful to keep photos around. Not just for Anna, but for her parents, too, when they visited. She could see the grief in the muscles jumping over her father’s jaw. In the wet sheen of her mother’s eyes. Even small gifts from Elsa became too heavy for Anna’s heart to bear. The little snow globe. The hand-drawn sketches of the two of them. The goddamn ring.

They are all buried away now in a shoe box under her bed, the shattered pieces of her heart.

Anna cannot go on without her. Not for one more day. So she must keep going. One foot in front of the other. Wood groans under her feet. She probably should be wearing hiking boots, or any kind of boots, like those real mountain people do. Her toes are already frozen stiff inside her un-grippy sneakers, but a wire grating keeps her from slipping on the damp planks. Under the bridge, crystal clear water ripples over tiny pebbles in shades of blue, violet, orange, magenta, crimson, all shimmering beneath the glassy surface. A technicolor carpet of eyes, blinking, judging, staring into her soul.

Anna gobbles up another handful of trail mix and washes down the foul taste with a mouthful of Gatorade.

Then she leans over the railing and stares back, searching for her reflection, for any shred of recognisable identity in the busy stream. But she finds none. The water is ever-changing. It’s more colorful than she remembers from childhood field trips, where she was most often focused on chatting to her friends and wondering when they would get to eat lunch. The pebbles swell and contract, almost like they’re breathing, beneath specks of golden sunlight and snippets of green and brown - the forest’s reflection.

Bridges are funny things. Anna chuckles at the irony - she is burning so many of them by crossing this one. Once she reaches her destination, there is no going back. There will be no third chances.

Not that there’s much left to lose. Anna lost just about everything in the divorce proceedings, the pre-nup made sure of that. Having gone into the marriage without much to her name to begin with, she’s basically back at square one now. Spat out, unprepared, to pick up the pieces of a bleak, solitary life.

It was a brutal divorce. The kind that ended with a financial attorney combing through lines of numbers, divvying up accounts and assets, right down to petty little things like lawn ornaments and kitchen appliances and DVDs no one had watched in years. The bitterness came as a shock. After all, there had been no unfaithfulness. No violence or abuse. Just two tired, burnt out people whose emotional wells had run dry.

She feels like one of those pathetic divorced dads from TV, alone in her dank, claustrophobic apartment on the seedy side of town. The ceiling drips in seven places, and the internet cuts out constantly. Without even Netflix or a stream of banal Tik Tok videos, she spends most nights crying alone with only the scuttling cockroaches and shouting neighbors for company.

“You two were so happy together,” her mother said, dabbing at her tears with a handkerchief, like a war widow. Like she’d lost a child. In her mind, perhaps she had. “Are you sure you can’t work things out?”

Anna shook her head, defeated, but said nothing. She didn’t want to answer that question, nor deconstruct its answer. Surely her parents weren’t so naive, so blind to the impossibility of it.

“We spent so much money on that goddamn wedding,” her father reminded her. His words sat cold and slimy in her stomach, like dead eels. As though she wasn’t nauseous enough from guilt already.

“Have you even tried couples therapy?”

Anna couldn’t imagine anything more humiliating.

“Just take the time to think this through,” they told her. “There’s no need to make any rash decisions.”

But Anna’s never been one to think things through. Making rash decisions is kind of her signature move.

That’s probably why she’s trekking up a mountain right now, underdressed, no plan, no map. No phone reception up here, either. She isn’t one of those mountain people who knows the trails. All she can do is trust her gut, and hope this endless, winding dirt path takes her where she needs to go.

As it so happens, it leads her deeper and deeper into the thick of the dark, damp forest, where sunlight barely penetrates the canopy. Up crude, winding stairs cut like scar tissue into the earth. One foot after the other, until it’s trance-like. A sacred rhythm. A heart-beat. Past more glistening streams and ancient trees eating into the path with their gargantuan girth. Gnarled roots embrace and struggle over and under each other, writhing like worms, searching for their homes in deep, dark earth where all life comes from, and all life goes back to in the end.

The path twists and turns past whispering branches and patchy bark. Spots of fluro green moss peek through a mosaic of earthy browns and blacks. Logs, rocks, sticks, the permeating sensation of damp. Life. The aroma of rotting leaves. Death. Ever-changing. Ever-consistent. Nature’s perfect algorithm repeating into infinity.

Nothing else has ever existed, or ever will exist; everything outside of this forest path is an illusion. The path is the beginning and the end and everything between.

Until it ends. It opens out into a clearing, and it takes Anna a hot second to make sense of what she sees. They look, at first, like peaceful animals grazing under the white-pink sky. Spaced evenly in a grid formation, as though in the middle of some kind of ritual. Stock still and humming with the current of the mountain’s soul.

They are picnic benches.

Anna swallows another mouthful of trail mix, barely chewing to avoid the taste.

She has been to this clearing before, once upon a distant childhood memory. She remembers the crude log structures housing toilets and sinks. The sheltered area. The circle of white-yellow sky above, enclosed by swaying trees. And the black bitumen of the tiny parking lot, freckled with specks of glistening snow. There’s something here she doesn’t remember, though. A new structure. A large box, made of wood and corrugated iron. It looks deliberately rustic, like it was built by hipsters. Approaching, it begins to make sense. She’s heard, at some point, that they’ve built a café up here, now.

The times are a-changing.

Peeking inside, Anna finds a gleaming metal espresso machine, vintage tins full of coffee beans, and a selection of fancy milks lined up into a rainbow. Almond. Oat. Lactose Free. Soy. Even macadamia - what a time to be alive! Behind a glass cabinet, small brownies and lumpy cookies lie on display. They look lonely and forlorn, all spaced apart, so tiny in their sterile home with tags exposing their ingredients. What would it feel like, Anna wonders, to be on the other side of that glass? Without secrets or shame?

“Yoo-hoo!”

Anna jumps back. Did- did the cookies just speak?

“Hello?” She peers into the cabinet, suspicious. “Who are you?”

“I am Oaken,” A man’s head appears from below, rosy and plump with a beanie pulled down snug over curly blond hair. His burly body follows behind, patterns dancing on his colorful wooly jumper. Little embroidered reindeer leap across his midline. He points up to the top of the stall, “from the sign. Oaken’s coffee and cakes.”

“Oh.” Anna appreciates having it spelled out, because the letters are arranged into words, but the words have no meaning. Like flebin. Or groonid. Or pallewallo. “Hi, Oaken. I’m Anna.”

“Are you lost, Anna?”

“I…” Anna assesses her surroundings once again. It’s all taken on a flat unearthly sheen, but she knows where she is. She has been here before. “No.”

“Zen what are you still doing here?” He has a strange, bouncing accent that she can’t place - maybe European. Despite the jovial tone, the question cuts to her core. What is she still doing here? Thirty years old, shitty little apartment, minimum wage job. Alone.

“What do you mean?”

“Ze roads are closing because of ze snow. Heavy forecast. Where is your car? I open ze gate for you, but you drive back down very slowly, and very carefully, ja?”

Oh. So he wasn’t asking about what she’s achieved in life. “I don’t have a car. Not anymore.”

Now that she’s stopped walking, the cold is beginning to lick at her cheeks and whittle its way under her skin and into her joints. She wishes she was wearing more than a hoodie and jeans.

“Zen how did you get up here?”

“I walked.”

“You walked?” His eyebrows jump in surprise, like two bushy caterpillars. “All ze way up here?”

“Ja.” Anna stupidly says. So much of her substance has withered away, and all she can do now is mirror those around her. “I mean, yes. Sorry, I’m a reflection.”

“Right…” he narrows his eyes, this strange coffee man, and looks right into her soul. Reading her ingredients, like a little vegan brownie, and judging her. “Zen I will drive you back to town.”

“No!” Anna jumps at the force of her word, “I mean, I’m not going back down. I’m going up.”

“Up?”

“Up.” Yes. Up, of course.

Seconds stretch into infinity. A flock of birds glide through the white-green sky in slow motion.

“No, no. You cannot go up,” Oaken leans on the counter with a knowing smile. “Only down.”

“What?” That’s back to front and upside down. Against all idioms and platitudes of common knowledge. In fact, for a moment, it feels sinister. Like the vaguely ominous prophecy of a shaman. Filled with double meanings. “What do you mean? Why?”

“Because, silly girl, once you go up, you cannot come back down.” He continues to speak about paths being blocked and snow banking up at certain points or whatever. Anna stopped listening. She gratefully takes the wooly jacket and hot chocolate, nodding along seriously, shoving the brownie into her pocket for later. But his words go in one ear and out the other. She’s heard all this before. All this cautionary advice about a point of no return.

Anna was led to believe that her wedding was an irreversible decision. A bed that, once made, she would be sentenced to lie in until her last days on this earth.

In the end, it wasn’t true at all.

“You don’t have to do this,” Elsa said back then with her eyes shining wet. Her hands clasped Anna’s own so tenderly. Trembling. The golden morning sun cast a halo around her platinum head. “It’s okay to change your mind. You can still back out now, if you’re not sure.”

“I can’t.” Anna felt like a devil in comparison, full of searing hot shame and carnal desire. She shook her head, not daring to look up into the heart she was breaking. “It’s too late.”

“It’s not too late,” Elsa said, “but once you do this, it’s a whole lot harder to undo.”

That was the entire point, though. To draw a line in the sand. Anna knew - or she thought she knew - that the marriage was the nail in the coffin. The burning of the evidence. It was the end.

When the big day arrived, Elsa was not there. Anna managed to keep her composure if only because she’d spent too much on the professional make-up job to ruin it with tears.

“It’s for the best,” her mother insisted. “It wouldn’t be appropriate, after everything… everything that’s happened.”

She apparently couldn’t bring herself to say, after everything you two did. Her parents treated the tryst like a random act of God. A natural disaster that had befallen their poor, unsuspecting daughters, like a forest fire or a tree falling through the roof of a family home. Their feeble attempt to make the situation somehow more palatable.

Every step down the aisle hurt, like treading on broken glass. Her face twisted into an obscene smile. The flowers reeked, pungent and overpowering in her shaking hands. Gaudy decorations hung like a mockery. Taunting her. All eyes locked onto her, hot as lasers. She felt exposed, dirty in her lacy white dress.

There was no comfort to be found in the sea of faces gathered together to watch the moment Anna would break her own heart. The earnest support. Aunt Delia dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. Grandma’s big smile and head cocked to the side. Her cheeky little cousin Ryder checking his phone. Honey smacking him upside the head.

The vows tasted rotten on her tongue. With each “I do,” Anna’s heart sank deeper, deeper, until it reached a cold, lifeless place where no light could survive. Down on the ocean floor inside herself, she began to suffocate when the double doors of the church burst open. Heavenly light spilled down the long, petal-clad carpet from behind the black silhouette.

Elsa. She came back! She came back to fight for them, for their love, just like Anna always knew she would! This was it. This was what true love looked like. Marching down the aisle at the very last minute with defiant steps, just like in the movies. The crowd gasped and murmured as she reached the altar and proclaimed with a voice like thunder, “I object!”

Only, when Anna opened her eyes, Elsa was gone. She was never there. No-one was coming to her rescue, to lift her from this grave she’d dug herself. There was only the sea of spectators in their Sunday best. Coiffed hair, silken shawls and stiff collars. The groomsmen with their rose boutonnieres and bridesmaids all in green. The minister cleared his throat as he pronounced them husband and wife. It took all she had not to vomit in Hans’ mouth when he swept her onto her back and pressed his hard lips to her own.

They put on a show alright. This bride, this person in the mirror, Mrs Westergaard, was a stranger. A foreign entity, unrecognizable, with her features warped by bronzer and hairspray and misery all contorted into a picture-perfect smile. She wondered if Hans felt the same, or if texting his boyfriend all day had eased the burden of all this pageantry.

Over the years, Anna has searched for a shred of herself in the replay of the wedding video. In the designer clothes and luxury cars. But with every modern chrome kitchen renovation, every cocktail at high end bars, every dinner hanging silently off his arm at networking events and socialite gatherings in dresses that cost more than her childhood home, another piece of her was painted over, remodeled, reshaped, upgraded, modernized. With every botox injection, her feelings stiffened just like her paralyzed facial muscles. The woman in the mirror grew ever-more unrecognizable. A stranger lost in a strange land.

That stranger smiles back at her now, fragmented by ripples on the milky-pale water. Anna cocks her head, and after a few seconds, so does the image. She finds herself rather mesmerized by the details. Freckles, blinking in the sun after years of hiding beneath heavy foundation. Elegant cheekbones swallowing naïve baby-fat. Eyebrows reclaiming their original territory, after waxing to perfection, like greenery growing through concrete.

She nibbles absentmindedly on the trail mix, adjusting to her likeness as she adjusts to the earthy taste.

Her eyes are darker than they were - or it may just be the murky depths of the unknown, beneath her image. The reflection winks at her, and Anna gasps, falling backwards in surprise.

She is caught and embraced by the springy branches of surrounding foliage, staring up into the white-violet sky, heart beating like a war-drum. That was… weird.

The sudden sense that she isn’t alone falls over Anna. Pulling herself up with shaky hands, she gazes out at the aqua pond, suddenly wondering what secrets lie beneath the surface, beyond her winking reflection. Snowflakes flutter down and dissolve on the water’s surface. Steam rises in response, curling into writhing figures. The darkness at the edge of the clearing, between the trees, stretches on infinitely, creating the sense of endless void. As though she has come to a single, lonely oasis in a desolate universe. She shivers at the thought, and also at the cold. It’s not so bad now that she’s in this thick jacket that Oaken gave her. The hot chocolate was good, too, though her fingers have already turned red from the cold since she finished it. Her stomach growls, unsatisfied. Perhaps it’s time to pull out the brownie as well. Oaken insisted it would be delicious despite being gluten-free, sugar-free, vegan and organic. And Anna was in no position to be picky, with nothing to sustain her but the trail mix.

The brownie explodes in her mouth, a symphony of chocolate as rich and dark and mysterious as the earth on which she sits. It’s been such a long time since she’s indulged in something so decadent, what with all the figure-watching and kale-juice-cleansing before the divorce, and the penny-pinching after. Cocoa goodness floods her synapses, creating a feeling adjacent to happiness. Close to love. A feeling of safety and acceptance that she remembers from once upon a childhood memory-

“Just like a warm hug!”

“Ahh!” Anna screams and squeezes her eyes shut. It’s one thing to have a vague, abstract sense of not being alone. Another thing entirely to hear an unfamiliar, disembodied voice like a wet tongue in her ear. Bracing herself, she turns her head toward the sound and opens one eye first, then the other.

It’s a goddamn snowman. White and still with dead stone-eyes. Some weirdo came along, built a creepy-ass snowman, whispered in her ear about warm hugs and is now hiding in the bushes? Oh, hell no! This is not okay. Anna’s chest rises and falls rapidly as she gets her wits about her. She’s a little scared, but mostly mad. Remembering a few moves from a self-defense class she took way back, she’s ready to give the pervert what for.

“Hi!” The man speaks again, but Anna can’t see any movement nor can she determine where the voice is coming from. “I’m Olaf.”

Okay. That last part was unmistakable. Impossible, absolutely ridiculous, but unmistakable. The goddamn snowman just moved his crunchy, icy mouth, and spoke.

“What- what- how are you-” As the horror wanes, curiosity takes its place, and she really begins to take in the sight in front of her. The big round belly. Big bouncy butt. A distant memory resounds, somewhere deep in the murky depths of her mind.

“I’m great! Thanks for asking,” he smiles with a mouth entirely too big and hollow for his head. “How are you?”

“I- I- good- I mean,” Anna’s words flip flop around in her throat like fish caught in a net, “I mean how are you alive?”

“You made me. You and Elsa. Remember?”

“Um, yeah…” Anna does remember. She remembers going up the mountain, distant days so idyllic they feel like they’re borne of one of her childhood story-books rather than of real life. She remembers the car moving so carefully around those zig-zag bends, singing songs in the backseat, parents laughing in the front, before the family was shattered into a thousand jagged pieces. Making snow angels, sledding, building snowmen - or, a snowman. “But, you’re real? How does that work?”

“The magic of the mountain?” He shrugs. “The power of love? Who knows! I’m just so happy to see you again!”

“I- um, yeah…” Flabbergasted, Anna isn’t quite sure she can truthfully return the sentiment. It’s just a little bit too weird. “It’s um… Nice to see you.”

“But where’s Elsa?” Olaf rubs his chin thoughtfully with his little stick arm.

Anna opens her mouth, despite having absolutely no idea how exactly to answer that question in a way that doesn’t make her sound like an idiot. Luckily, before she can speak, Olaf makes a suggestion.

“Oo! Maybe she’s at the waterfall! You guys used to love going there, didn’t you?”

“Uh…” Anna’s face burns despite the snow and icy breeze. How much has this snowman seen? And how old is he, anyway? He waddles on stumpy little legs into the darkness of the forest, beneath the dripping canopy.

Anna takes one last look at the milky turquoise pond, the chalky white snow and damp earth surrounding it, then follows Olaf into the dark foliage. This path, like all the others, is vaguely familiar. A dirt track with ferns and mushrooms and mossy logs. This track isn’t like all the others, though. It leads to a waterfall.

Their waterfall.

“Oooh!” Olaf swoons, “This is where you first kissed, remember-”

Anna just about chokes on the trail mix.

“-Yes! Olaf, I remember.” It comes out snappier than she intended. She’s just exasperated. Jarred by his jovial tone after years of holding this secret inside, like a pin poking into her that she must simply grin and bear. She wipes water from her cheeks, whether it’s tears, mist from the waterfall, or a mix of both is unclear. Everything is exactly the same as it was. These memories aren’t vague and buried in her childhood mind. They’re crisp as the frost on the ferns, bright as the light glistening on wet rocks. Sensual as the water, bursting like her heart back then, pouring, gushing from all levels. “I remember.”

She remembers the first time Elsa took her here and kissed her like the world was ending. Or laid her down on a picnic blanket, on a warm summer night, and made her feel like a woman as mother earth bloomed into life. She remembers talking all night under the stars, legs tangled together, heads pressed against each other. Fingers intertwined like the roots of the ancient trees, finding sustenance in the deep dark earth. In each other.

She remembers how time lost all meaning up here on the mountainside. How everything lost meaning, nothing mattered outside of her and Elsa and their bodies snug together inside a tent, like the moon and the sun, like two planets in orbit. “Hold me,” Elsa used to beg, “don’t let go. It feels like I might fall into the sky if you let go.”

She wasn’t too far off from the truth.

Anna remembers the silky alabaster of Elsa’s skin, the soft tickle of her hair in the morning. The hot, wet sweetness of Elsa’s tongue, and the building ecstasy of fingers inside her. Oh, Anna remembers it all. Sometimes she remembers it so deeply and so vividly that it threatens to suck the air from her lungs and she has to burrow deep inside herself to escape it. Resist it. Force it to disappear until everything is white.

Everything is white.

Cold and slippery and frozen white. Heaven is frozen. Hell is frozen. Everything in between that ever existed is cold, slippery, frozen. Even beneath her gloves, Anna’s fingers burn with frigid cold as they grip the railing, blood turning to ice, crackling, crystallizing inside her veins. Snow obscures her vision like static, howling wind whips her cheeks and rumbles in her ears. All she can do is reach one hand up, move one foot forward, find a foothold - difficult with her clumsy, numb toes - and pull. Push. Reach. Climb.

Anna tastes blood. Her lips are numb, but when she licks them, the taste of dirt reminds her she is battling, struggling against the earth. A tiny worm stuck in the cold hard ground, and she is losing.

Were these stairs always so steep? Almost vertical? Did they always make her feel so precariously high up, helpless and unsafe, like a kitten in a tree? Snow blusters faster now, fast and violent like a shaken snow globe, and she swears the world is actually shaking. Crumbling. Imploding. Her hands are slippery. Everything is slippery. Her body is so numb, so exhausted, so heavy and stiff like ancient stone. She stumbles. Her foot cannot find a hold, the fog is blindingly thick and her hands cannot grip. She falters. She falls.

Heaven. Where else could this be? Tranquil and pure, no land below, no sky above. Only brilliant white clouds billowing and twirling all around. Voices of angels ring like church bells in a thousand harmonies, a sublime beauty her little human mind cannot comprehend. They’re singing about peace, about forgiveness and light in the darkness. Let go of the past, they sing. Open your heart and surrender to perfect love!

A single, lonely tear rolls down Anna’s cheek as the words saturate her parched heart. Searching for some truth, for some meaning in all these miserable years and everything she’s lost, the person she used to be and all the decisions she can’t take back.

As the angels linger on a long oo sound, she emerges. Shining, resplendent, a goddess in the mist. Bright and eternal as the moon.

Elsa.

The air swells, thick with unshed tears. Anna struggles through it in slow motion, into Elsa’s open arms. The warmth of unconditional love floods her body, melting the ice in her veins and the lump in her chest.

And there’s no more heaven. No more hell. No more clouds above or below, no more frozen fingers and no more aching heart. Just Elsa. Her first friend, her oldest love, it all begins and ends with Elsa.

“Oh my god,” Elsa pulls away, holding Anna out by the shoulders, and lets her gaze wash over her with all the force of the thundering waterfall. Sky blue eyes, impossibly bright, impossibly soft, creased with worry and, up close, faint lines carved by years of grief. A reflection. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” Anna is stiff with cold, withering from hunger, and utterly disoriented. Battered like a leaf in the wind. But she is okay. If the world crumbled beneath her feet right now, she would be okay. “Of course I’m okay. I’m here. You’re here…”

Looking up and around again, Anna is pulled into a moment of clarity. It’s weird, this tiny patch of ground in the middle of an unending fog. “Where is here? Is this heaven?”

Perhaps this is what it took for them to be reunited. Death. Returning to the deep dark earth.

“What? No, this is the summit,” Elsa says slowly, eyes locked onto Anna’s own and hands still gripping her shoulders. She is all bulky and round in her warm, pale layers. Like a snowman. “Anna, what are you doing up here?”

No words could ever convey how suffocating the distance between them has become, the depths of her grief, of her need, how it drained her life-force like a dying star in a desolate universe at the end of time. So she simply says, “I missed you.”

“Yeah,” Elsa says softly, no longer meeting Anna’s eyes, “I missed you too.”

All the wind and snow has paused in reverence, hovering in mid-air to witness this moment. It ends with Elsa’s gloved hand grasping Anna’s own, and the words, “Come on. Let’s get out of the cold.”

They take slow steps. Gentle. Cautious. Qualities they have learnt through the harshest lessons. With the reckless abandon of youth so far behind them, they leave the small patch of rocky surface, and venture back into the thick of the fog. The sun is dying, and darkness bleeds into the sky. Against the blackness, geometric patterns litter the corners of her vision in neon colors. How Elsa can see through it all, Anna doesn’t know. Perhaps she is accustomed to the magic, transcended to godhood after so much lofty solitude.

Through the dark, fractalling fog, Elsa leads. The void roars, snarls and snaps on either side, unknown terrors and endless shadow. But Anna never fears. If she only knows one truth in this crazy life, it’s that wherever Elsa is, that’s where Anna is supposed to be.

A kiss tickles her freezing cheek as they approach a structure. Windows glow with golden light. The faint smell of wood-smoke teases her nose. “Here we are.”

The door groans on its hinges, welcoming them into a cozy cabin. Wooden walls. A crackling fire dances in the furnace. Everything is soft and safe inside this little sanctuary. Pastel curtains, a fluffy rug, worn old books and herbs drying on a rack. Photographs - or reflections, rather. Elsa guides her toward the bed and sits her down, peeling off her own outer layers and hanging them on a hook, then attending to Anna’s. Anna can’t seem to find her words as Elsa’s ginger fingers unzip her hoodie, unlace her sneakers, and push a strand of copper hair behind her ear. The touch sends tingles through her body. Her eyes fill with tears. Her throat fills with tears. The universe fills with tears.

“I’m sorry,” Anna chokes, “I’m so sorry. I made a terrible mistake-”

“Sh,” Elsa strokes her cheek. There’s not a shred of bitterness or wrath in her flushed pink face. Only perfect love. Light in the darkness. “You did what you thought was right.”

“I hurt you.”

“Well…” Elsa shrugs but doesn’t argue. She looks down at the space between them and rests her hand over Anna’s. The gesture speaks everything that words cannot. “A love like ours was never going to be pain-free. And I ran away and disappeared into the mountain for ten years.”

“You did what they told you to do. What they told you was right.”

“So did you.”

The mention of their parents dims the moment. They’d been trying to help, of course. To save their girls from each other. But at what cost?

“But you’re here now,” Elsa smiles weakly, “to… stay? I hope?”

Anna nods. She is here to stay. For as long as she is alive, she will stay with Elsa. Hot tears flow down her cheeks and drip onto the quilted bedding.

“I knew you would come back to me,” Elsa says, “eventually.”

Anna nods. Of course Elsa knew. Elsa accepted early on that her path would be the one less traveled. The one less approved of. Elsa pulled into herself, taking refuge in the quiet strength of their love, while Anna pulled herself in every direction trying to please everyone. They each had their lessons to learn, their paths to travel. As to what Elsa’s learnt in all these years of isolation, that will be another late night conversation under the stars. There are many to come.

“How did you know where to find me?” Anna asks, running her hand through Elsa’s hair. “Did Oaken tell you?”

Elsa nods, trailing fingers down Anna’s arms, gentle as a summer breeze.

“Did he use telepathy? There’s no reception…”

“No, he used the radio,” Elsa chuckles and motions to a bulky black device on a side table. “How many of those mushrooms did you eat?”

“I’m not sure…” Anna shuffles into the corner of the bed, consumed by its gentle give, evaporating into its textured quilt, overwhelmed by the scent of Elsa, and by the pull of exhaustion. She pulls the trail mix from her pocket and evaluates its remaining weight. “I chopped them up and mixed them in. They were super strong, though. I thought we were in heaven, back there. Heard a choir of angels and everything.”

“Oh no, that was real,” Elsa rolls her eyes. “It was the church group. They come up here, rain, hail or shine to do their worship. Crazy people.”

“Yeah, Crazy.” Anna closes her eyes and tries to recreate the ethereal sound in her mind, but she can’t. It doesn’t belong to her. “But I guess they’re just trying to learn whatever it is the mountain has to teach them.”

“I suppose they are,” the bed sags and Elsa is beside her, arm draped loosely over her waist. Lips moving against her forehead. “And what did the mountain teach you, my dear?”

“Nothing I didn’t already know.” Anna can feel them becoming one, unable to differentiate whose warm breath is tickling whose soft skin. Whose fingers are combing through whose hair. Limbs entangled like roots in the deep dark earth. Lips pressed together slowly, softly, desperately, eternally, with all the weight of a decade worth of words unspoken. “That we belong together.”