#and i had a dr in that same area who shouted at a different friend of mine and physically hit an object close to her

[dfortrafalgar]

I'm Losing You

Having a family isn't always as easy as fairy tales make it seem.

Warnings: Read chapter 1 for warnings. posting two chapters today just because chapter 11 was so short in comparison! Beware... chapter 13 is when things start to get heavy again </3

Taglist: @phsycochan | @mirillua | @augustanna | @chaixsherlock

Chapter 12

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While Law was busy with work, Shachi and Penguin had become more akin to doting brothers than friends during your post-op care… but today your apartment was bustling.  Penguin had taken the liberty of using your phone to invite Ikkaku, who brought Nami and Usopp in tow.  As you laid in your bed fighting off a mild headache, the sounds of chattering and cleaning in your apartment filled your closed off bedroom.  At one point, something heavy had clattered against your kitchen floor, followed by harsh shushes warning the perpetrator of keeping silent so you could catch up on sleep.  Not like that made a difference.

You checked your phone that was set charging on your bedside table.  1:00PM.  You were thirsty.

Standing, you grabbed your empty glass and began to pace out of your room and toward the kitchen.  Your recovery had been incredibly swift, and you had achieved a total of five days off from work with the help of the weekend.  Your incision site healed quickly with a barely-visible scar, and while you still had a bit of recovery left, you had begun to feel much more like yourself.  Helped in part by your official diagnosis: endometriosis.  Not that you were surprised by that, but it definitely felt good to have an actual answer to your troubles.  The few cysts that were found on your ovary were also benign, and your call with Dr. Robin to discuss your results left you feeling surprisingly refreshed.  Things felt like they were finally starting to look up.

You rounded the corner of your apartment and entered your living area, the smell of pine and lemon-scented floor cleaner invading your nostrils and making you grimace.  Your gaggle of friends were seated around the kitchen table, digging into more left-over chocolate chip cookies that, at this point, had to be beyond stale.  

“Hey, there’s the woman of the hour!” called Usopp.  “Sorry if we woke you up.”  He flashed a toothy grin as he popped a cookie into his mouth.

You smiled, meandering to the sink to refill your glass with fresh water.  “Nah, it’s all good!  Thank you guys for cleaning up and spending time with Bepo, I really appreciate it, you know.”

Nami leaned back in her chair, tossing her arm over the back of it to twist her torso and gaze at you.  “It’s no problem at all, it’s the least we could do!  You deserve all the rest you can get after everything that’s happened.”  Her friendly grin quickly morphed into one of mischievous intent.  “Though, if you wanted to Venmo me, I wouldn’t say no.”

“Nami!  The poor woman is struggling!” Ikkaku placed a firm slap to Nami’s shoulder, making the red-head wince.

You were laughing as you approached the table to sit with your friends, politely denying the stale cookies that were offered to you.  “No no, she’s right.  I’ll think of something I can do to repay all of you for all the help you’ve been to Law and I.  I don’t feel right not treating you guys back in the same way.”

Shachi stretched his arms above his head and cracked his knuckles, uttering a deep groan at the feeling of his shoulders extending.  “Give your future kid my name, and we’ll call it even.”

“No fair, I wanted my name passed down!” shouted Penguin.

You sputtered a laugh against the lip of your glass.  It still filled you with a bit of discomfort to discuss the topic of pregnancy so soon, but your friends’ lighthearted attitudes made your feelings a bit easier to cope with.  “Not to disappoint, but Law and I already have names picked out.  None of you were on the list.”

Two disappointed sighs came from your husband’s best friends, but Ikkaku excitedly leaned forward against the table with her head in her hands.  “What are the options?”

You circled one of your fingers around the rim of your glass.  “Law really wanted his family to be honored in some way, so right now our favorite choices are Cora, Rose or Rosa, and Lami.  He said he felt a little strange having our kid’s first name be his sister’s, so if we have a daughter her middle name will probably be Lami.”

Usopp sighed dreamily.  “He’s so sentimental, isn’t he?”

Ikkaku giggled.  “Never say that to his face, though, or he’ll–”

The front door cracked open.  From the corner of the room, Bepo picked his head up.

“Say ‘what’ to my face?”  Law entered his apartment with a grouchy expression, closing and locking the door before shrugging off his light jacket and placing his hat on a hook behind the door.

“Hi, honey!” you called, your eyes immediately lighting up at the sight of your husband.  “You’re home early!”

Law stretched his back and wobbled toward the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing an energy drink from the door.  “Well, I had a surgery this evening, but the patient ended up coding.”

Nami cocked her head.  “What does that mean?”

“He croaked,” replied Law, taking a sip and assuming a protective stance behind your chair.  “Can’t perform surgery on a dead guy.”

“Aw, that’s too bad…” Ikkaku chimed in, her excited posture manifesting into a more forlorn slouch.  “You must see that a lot, huh?”

Law shrugged.  “Not really, most of the time it’s elderly people who die before they get treatment.  It’s hard when you’re old.”

You reached a hand up behind you, placing it on your husband’s shoulder.  He took his free hand and wrapped it around your own.  “Well, I’m glad you got to come home early.  Everyone spent the entire day cleaning the house while I was in bed.”

“Is that why it smells like pine cleaner in here?” he asked, somewhat confused.

“Usopp spilled the bottle on the floor,” Nami piped up.

“It was an accident,” the curly-haired man replied with a perturbed hiss.

—

The plate of cookies was discarded, the kitchen was finished being cleaned, and your friends had all departed for the night, leaving you and Law cuddling alone on your couch as a brain-dead comedy rerun played on the television.  Bepo remained on his plush bed in the corner, his entire body upside down and snoring away peacefully.  You laid against Law’s chest as his lean hands ran up and down your sides, ghosting the skin beneath your cotton shirt with pleasant electric tickles that made you stifle a giggle occasionally.

“Hey, can we talk?” Law asked, eyes still trained on the television, but clearly not absorbing any of the half-assed jokes and canned laugh track.

“Yeah, of course,” you replied, shifting a little against his body to face him.  You reached over his head for the remote that was sitting on the arm of your couch, pressing the power button to turn off the television and envelope you and your husband in a calm silence.

Law smiled weakly, his golden eyes now trained on your own.  “Did you get a call back from your doctor?”

You nodded.  “I do have endometriosis, and the cysts on my ovaries are benign.  She actually said they were quite small and said if they started causing me more trouble, then they could be dealt with.”

Your husband ran his hand over the back of your head.  “And how do you feel about that?”

You sighed, leaning your head against his chest, listening to the way his heart thrummed against his rib cage.  “I feel… strange.  It’s weird to know that this entire condition was under the radar for my entire life until we started wanting to have kids.  And everything’s been happening so quickly, sometimes I feel like the entire world is spinning around me.”

Law hummed.  “I bet… it’s been a hard few months.”

You closed your eyes, your own hand trailing fleeting touches up and down his shoulder.  “Thank you for sticking with me, Law.”

Your husband picked his head up to gaze down at the top of your head.  “Why would you have to thank me for that?”

“Well…” you began, struggling to form words.  You felt too ashamed to face him head-on, and chose instead to keep hiding your gaze in his chest.  “We’ve been married for over two years, and I still haven’t been able to give you a baby like we’ve wanted.  So the fact that you’ve stayed with me–”

“Let me interrupt you right there.”  Law’s tone was firm and authoritative as he interjected.  “Do you remember what I told you before I got my own test done?  That I’m your husband and that I refuse to leave you over an idle issue?”

You dug through your brain’s memory bank, finally settling on the vision of the two of you in much the same position as you were now.  You smiled faintly.  “Right, the issue that might be resolved.”

Law pinched your cheek in his fingers.  “Will be resolved.  And do you remember what we promised each other on our wedding day?”

“Law, why are you quizzing me?” you questioned, voice barely higher than a whisper, as you finally lifted your head and made eye contact with your husband.

He didn’t answer you, instead continuing his own train of thought.  “On our wedding day, one of the promises we made to each other was ‘in sickness and in health.’  I feel sick to my stomach when I imagine a world where I leave you over this.”  His hands continued rubbing your back as he spoke.  “No one could have predicted this outcome.  No one could have ever expected a reality like this, but it’s a reality that we’re sharing.  I’m happy without children just as I’d be happy with children.  What matters the most to me right now, at this moment, is that you’re still here with me.  Right now, your health and wellbeing is more important than any hypothetical child.”

Law’s words were rapidly provoking heavy, salty tears to well in your eyes, which quickly overflowed down your cheeks and into the fabric of his shirt.  One of his hands caressed your cheek, feeling as your jaw shifted and you sniffled away the snot that was also forming in your sinuses at his words.  You blubbered, a weak smile crawling onto your weary lips.  “How do you always know how to make me cry?”

Your husband’s chest bounced slightly with his own chuckle.  “You bring the sap out of me.”

You laughed into his neck.  “For someone who claims to be shit with emotions, you’re surprisingly eloquent.”

He responded to your words by placing a tender kiss on the crown of your head.  “Well of course.  I need to make sure I keep my wife smiling, after all.”

After a few brief moments of gentle caresses, your tears subsided enough for you to ask, “When we get the okay from my doctor… Do you still want to try again for another baby?”

Law smiled.  “For as long as you want to keep trying, so do I.”

[thatdiabolicalfeminist]

What state doesn't allow you to get Medicaid even if your income is zero? It should be based on her health. Did she apply? Get a disability attorney? It's not uncommon to get denied the first couple times.

I'm aware of this. She's aware of this. Are you aware of how long the appeals process is? She's still in appeals. As she has mentioned several times in her gfm, and as I have mentioned several times on this blog.

She has contacted every pro bono attorney that does this kind of work in her area. None of them will take her case. As I think she's also mentioned. Did you know that very few lawyers even do that kind of work, and that those that do often get asked to do more cases than they actually have time for?

There are 12 states that don't allow you to get Medicaid based solely on income. That's easy to google. "States without expanded Medicaid" should get you both proof that they exist, and an explanation of what that means.

If you know most people get denied the first couple times I'm perplexed about why you seem to think it's simple to get on disability, and why you seem to think there's some obvious easy option she's missing?

People often scold poor people for not accessing resources that either don't exist or are almost impossible to get. I understand that you mean well, but this ask really rubs me the wrong way. I'm worried about someone important to me dying for lack of medical care, and you're assuming without actually even reading her most recent gfm post that she's not doing everything she can.

[chazukekani]

SPOILER ALERT 

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today. 

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

-

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

-

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

-

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers 

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

-

The story continues on 27th Feb

[gooobert]

A Slight Detour

Alright SO I'm coming at you all with a Harringsmith fic. It was inspired by a conversation I had with @trevsawriter, and I know I'm a total novice when it comes to fics but I thought I'd at least share it :) gimme some consctructive feedback!

Word Count: 1.5k Reading Time: ~5 Min

If there was anything Quentin hated more than hot, muggy weather, it was running. But when they're all put together? It made him agitated and on the verge of hyperbolic violence.

Sure, he's good at swimming, but on land? No better than a fish out of water.

Their graduating class is back from summer vacation; it's around the second or third week. Quentin couldn't remember, every day was a blur - same shit, different curriculum. He'd have to admit, he isn't used to this heat. Especially when he had been in his air-conditioned room, spending his free time trying to catch every Pokémon on his Switch.

Or, as Steve liked to call them, "little Pokeymen."

No matter how many times Quentin corrected him, Steve wasn't changing. He could handle the retro classics like Metroid or Dr. Mario, which Quen loved - Steve knew a fair amount of cheats that aren't readily available on the web.

And so what if they spent the summer playing games all day? They didn't have to be harassed by their parents, and as long as Steve got to drag his boyfriend to the beach every couple weeks, he couldn't complain.

Speaking of which, it was Steve that threw his hand on Quentin's shoulder, snapping him out of his thoughts.

"Didja hear me? We're starting soon."

Quentin couldn't help but expel a groan. Since they were starting a new school year, the gym teachers were performing routine fitness assessments. He couldn't care any less, but he knew his dad would chew him out for not at least getting a baseline grade.

That, and Steve had been talking about a detour they could take to avoid both the coach and sweating. As much as Steve wouldn't turn down a time to show off his athletics, he was not going to let the muggy weather and his sweat ruin his absolutely perfect hair.

"I want you to just follow my lead, 'kay? Try to keep up."

"And what if I don't?"

Steve stopped stretching his shoulder to snap his head in Quentin's direction, eyebrows furrowed as he made an artificially-dramatic glare. "Hey. Do you want my help or-"

Their banter was cut off by the shouting of their teacher, who immediately blew the whistle; their run only beginning. The mass of students moved like a large blob, sneakers reverberating off each other's steps on the asphalt.

The high school didn't have the money for an actual track; all of the funding essentially went to their competitive swim team, leaving the cross country students to have to make their own warmup track with what they had. One part of Quen would normally felt pity, but he would have rather given them his middle finger.

Quentin liked to eat anywhere but the cafeteria, the dining hall was too loud, the food was some type of Lovecraftian horror, and it wasn't like he had a large group of friends to chat with. One time, he tried to eat his lunch in the backwoods of the school, preferring a quiet area to cram before his exam the next period. The track team boys, practicing for their upcoming meet, didn't seem to like a swim team member on their "turf" - kicking up some dust into Quentin's lunch. He honestly couldn't give less of a shit, but hey - that's karma.

And he couldn't complain, now both he and Steve have a ritual of eating together on the hood of Steve's car. Harrington was a sucker for older cars, caring for his BMW like it was his own damn baby. Quentin liked to tease him over who Steve was really in love with.

And God forbid Quen ever gets behind the wheel or else Steve acts like a helicopter parent; scolding him for driving too fast, or not easing into the breaks as gradually as Steve thinks he should, grabbing hold of the car frame as he braces for his boyfriend to crash. Quentin would be offended by it, but who else would be there to intentionally swerve the car and scare the shit out of Steve?

The sound of feet hitting asphalt - now turning into tightly packed soil - brought Quentin back to the present, where the group of students began to disperse, their varying speeds creating distance. He was more towards the back of the group, disinterested with the athletic kids in front - as if they had a point to prove. Like some Olympic recruiter had nothing better to do; deciding to go to bumfuck Ohio to scout for prospective talent.

Steve was the only one Quen could focus on - now near the front - the faster group beginning to rush into the woods.

He wasn't sure how, but it only took a few, mere seconds to lose track of Steve. There were too many paths to discern where he went, the only obvious one being the path the teachers chose, which had painted arrows on the cedar trees. Once out of the teacher's eyesight, Quentin went from his jog to a walk, running a hand through his curls as he caught a breath. The final stragglers went past him, leaving Smith all by himself.

Or rather, he thought he was by himself until a hand placed a firm grip on his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks-

"Woah, easy, it's just me," Steve cooed, trading his firm grip on Quen's shoulder for a few reassuring pats.

His body relaxed at the sight of Harrington. You could still see his reddish-pink splotches of skin; sunburnt from when they went to the beach the other day. Most of it was encased around Steve's neck, which was covered by the lower tips of his mullet. He circled around to face his body towards Quentin's, leaning his back on the bark of a tree.

"You have no idea how much I've missed you," he fondly stated, looking up and down at his boyfriend.

"It's only third period."

"Only," he mimicked in a retort, Steve's back now leaving the tree to get closer to Quentin. Their faces were now less than a foot apart; the smell of Steve's cologne and musk overwhelming the former scent of the outdoors.

"Then let's make up for some lost time, mm?"

That's all Steve needed to hear, the only thing holding him back from throwing himself at Quen. Steve wrapped one arm around Smith's back, nestled under the shoulderblades. The other hand was busy leaning on another tree, coincidentally behind Quentin's back.

It's not insurmountable that the former king of Hawkins High is a great kisser. Steve's cheek grazed Quentin's nose as the former tilted his head.

It tasted sweet, and was faintly reminiscent of their breakfast from that morning; something of a routine between the two. Steve would pick Quentin up before school, and Quen would buy them both a pair of coffees or even a muffin or two depending on how hungry they felt. It made Quentin want more, leaning into Steve and allowing his eyes to remain firmly shut.

Once they broke apart for some air, he opened his eyes to see how burnt his boyfriend really looked in the sun. The skin on the bridge of Steve's nose was slightly peeling, despite how much his mom nagged him to apply sunscreen from their beach day, and even lotion, now.

They went back in for kissing - to the point where Quentin was too busy picking at Steve's sunburns to the jock's dismay - for a little while. It was only a matter of time before the echoes of a whistle were heard, signifying their time was being cut short. Steve made some whines of annoyance before turning Quen to face alongside him.

"I'm going to run through those two trees there and take a right, then a left at the large rock, y'can't miss it. Just go, like, 20 seconds after me, 'kay?"

"What, don't want the kid who doesn't try at gym to finish with the all-star athlete?"

That made Steve click his tongue, his eye roll not matching the growing smirk on his face. He began to turn away before his head snapped around to face Quentin for a final time. "Oh, and one more thing - what're we doing after school today?"

Quentin crossed his arms and gave Steve a puzzled look. "I thought we'd go to practice, unless you have a better-"

"Nonononono, I was just curious…" he paused, pursing his lips. "I'll see you after last period."

And off he went, running a hand through his hair and returning to a jog.

"I'll see you!" Quentin shouted, waving Harrington goodbye. Man, he could kill to have practice begin early. This weather will be the death of him someday, he's sure, but then how else could Steve heroically save him from heatstroke? He thought about that scenario as he began to resume his run, their gym teacher being none the wiser as the two boys joined the rest of the class.

[apexland]

Spared

Bloodhound x Reader 

Warnings! Swearing, Violence

Might be a few errors here and there, still need to go through it properly!

Preparing for the drop every legend had a different pre-game ritual that helped get them in the zone before the beginning of every match, some more questionable than others such as Octane who uses the time for gaming, completely strange but I think it would be more concerning to see him sitting still or the likes of Revenant who always disappears before the drop, Mirage always says he’s away skinning something or doing something murderous. Bloodhound though they have always been a scary legend to come face to face with in battles, before every match they sit sharpening the edge of axe that they always carried along with them. Bloodhound always kept their cards close, never giving much away and I think that was the scariest part, being unpredictable. At least with Dr. Caustic you knew he wanted to watch you die a slow and painful death within his toxic gas. 

My ritual before the drop was listening to music, eyes closed, I found it easier than talking to the people I was about to face off with in the arena - it made it easier to pull the trigger without hesitation. 

As I let out sigh I took out my ear buds, knowing from experience the exact time of the drop, opening my eyes I was met with the blank stare of Bloodhounds mask from across the room the slight red glare that stained the glass looking right back at me. 

I peeled my eyes away once the squads flashed up on the screen. “Race you to the LZ” Octane’s rang out from beside me as we stepped on the platform. I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know we don’t have to race if we are on the same team Silva” He was still jumping on the spot the sound of his legs clanking against the ground. 

“Where’s the fun in that amigo?” 

“Let’s break some circuits” Wattson giggled from the other side of me. “Man, I really need to get a phrase” I said, fixing the strap of my boot, before the floor began to open and we were lowered above the destroyed land of World’s Edge, a chaotic mix of the epicentre that lay thick with snow, the dome that was surrounded by deadly lava - making it all the more scarier to fight near it, one wrong move and you would be cooked.

Octane - the adrenaline junkie that he is decided that fragment west would be the best option. The most popular landing spots amongst old and new legends and the spectators favourite spot to see a quick bloodbath. But, luck was most defiantly not on my side today scouting two floors and still having no weapon was not ideal. 

“I need a weapon” I said over the comms, sighing at all of the ammo that was one the floor but no gun.

“There’s a Mozambique here” Wattson’s voice came back over the comms.

“Hey! Isn’t that Chey’s line” Octane laughed. I picked up a few more syringes and cells before letting out a sigh followed by a quiet ‘dibs’. It was a good gun but nothing compared the dominant R-99 or the Volt, which judging by my luck the enemies would already be kitted with.

We moved to another building but it was long before the sound of footsteps sounded around us. “We’ve got friends here” I said quietly, a glimmer of luck started to appear when I found a hemlock of the lack of heavy ammo was disappointing. 

Wattson had put up her fences, the loud sound of the burning electricity warned the enemies off slightly. I peaked through one of the barred windows, spotting wraith who was focused on another door of our building I took the shot but she was quick to phase away. 

“Careful Horizon’s probably going to throw her ultimate over here” I warned my squad mates but Wattson quickly replied “I’ll take care of that”

“Wattson now!” I shouted as I seen newt being thrown towards us along with the deadly gas of caustic but luckily the pylon zapped them both down.

“Let’s go!” Octane yelled as he jammed the syringe into his leg before speeding off and we quickly followed, “Watch for traps Silva” I said, trying to catch up with him. I spotted Wraith trying to portal them out of the building, taking it back as she got the warning in her head. I quickly placed down on of my spike traps, pressure sensitive that once stepped on will send a deadly spike usually through the leg disabling the legend, which is exactly what it had down to Caustic as he was the next one to appear through the rift. 

Quickly taking him out, not giving him a chance to put down one of his traps as he muttered a ‘damn you’. Focusing back on the other two, Octane was already pushing to the building along with Wattson and taking care of the rest of the squad.

Finally getting better loot, I started feeling more positive about the match until the sound of Bloodhounds scan and us being in range. “Shit” I whispered. “We need to move now!” 

We scrambled back into the building, but Wattson had been took down by a triple take, I looked behind be to see the same stained red glass looking back at me as Bloodhound lifted their head from the scope of the sniper.

Quickly getting to work by putting down traps at the doors, taking a peak out of the barred window I quickly ducked back down as a bullet skimmed past my ear from the same gun that took Wattson out. I felt the blood from where the bullet grazed but my attention was diverted by the door across from me opening and then scream from Loba as the spike was deep in her leg, taking my chance I used the mastiff that I picked up from the other team to quickly end things. 

One down, two to go. 

“Careful Silva, Bloodhound has a triple take” 

Rampart was the next of their squad to reveal herself as I heard the distant sound of a barrier being placed up along with Sheila’s red laser scanning the walls ready to shred someone apart. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I groaned, just as another one of Bloodhound’s scan revealed us yet again. 

“Can you distract them Silva?” Pulling out one of my most deadly traps, once it hit the ground it sends out a wave of spikes that usually without fail impales the enemy long enough for them to need to heal and just the perfect amount of time for me to take them amount.

There was silence from Silva before I seen the green flash of him flying across the other building from his jump pad, that must be the distraction. I quickly snuck out of the building as I heard them both firing at the adrenaline junkie, quickly pulling the pin of the trap with my teeth, I tossed it in the middle of the pair. Octane had went down because of being lasered with Sheila. Getting closer I finished off Rampart, but as I was about to search for Bloodhound, they found me. 

The scary roar of his beast of the hunt sounded out.

Shit

Making a run for it, I didn’t get very far before a bullet got me right in the stomach, wheezing out for air at the sudden impact. Pulling myself up, my back leaning against the wall, the hunter came closer just like a predator stalking their prey. 

They bend down in front of me but as I waited for them to put me out of my misery I felt a hand caress my cheek, confusion washed over me. The hand moved to ghost over the tried blood that had trailed down the side of area and followed the trail on to my neck, goose bumps appearing after every touch. “You fought well, felagi fighter” My heart was thumping, they were so close it was almost making me forget that I was basically bleeding out, which I eventually did but the comfort from the hound made it less painful. 

_____________________________

Waking up in the respawn chambers up, I sat up with haste but immediately feeling the pain in my abdomen which made all of the events from the match flood back to me. Did I imagine it? Did it really happen?”

Then it came to me.

Making my way to the control room, where the cameras got all the footage the process of editing and making sure it’s ready to be aired to the spectators. I knocked on the door waiting for a response before the door flew open. 

“Hey Ezekiel, can you get me my body camera footage from the last match” He looked at me with a tilt of his head”

“Sur- is everything ok?” He asked, looking at me with concern. 

“Yeah, I just missed a few shots and want to review the footage in training” He nodded before turning around and handing me a USB.

“Thank you, appreciate it”

Taking the drive and heading to my room before plugging it in and clicking on the file with my name labelled on it. Skipping all of the footage until I got to the last fight. It did happen and I didn’t imagine it, I closed the screen of the laptop before biting my nail trying to think of what I should do.

Was I overthinking everything? But they didn’t kill me. They should have, like they had done to both of squad mates.

“Hey Anita, have you seen Bloodhound?” The solider was sat down with one of the weapon manuals that was lying around the communal area, building on her already extensive knowledge of every weapon to ever be created.

“Last time I seen them was in the training yard” I gave a quick nod. “Thanks, Anita”

“You’re welcome FNG” Pausing as I looked at her. “I’m not the new one anymore, you said you’d stop calling me that” 

She shrugged at me “It took you long enough to figure out what it meant, you think I am just going to let that go”

 I rolled my eyes at her mumbling ‘funny’, followed by a laugh from Anita “You’re right it is” She always loved when people didn’t follow her military talk, it meant she could basically speak in her own language without anyone knowing it was meant to make fun of them. 

Making my way to the training yard I pushed the door open, there was few other legends training but everyone usually kept well spaced apart because nobody wanted to get dropped in the training yard, that would be embarrassing. 

I spotted the tall frame of the hound, they were on one the last rows.  

Stopping behind them as the Raven’s bite axe flew to the target landing right on the dummy’s heart, I swallowed. Quickly putting my fear aside before I looked like an idiot just standing ther-

“How can I assist you?” Their voice rang out. Of course Bloodhound already new I was here, walking to the target they collected their axe finally looking at me as they walked back to their original standing position. 

“Ah- I just wanted to ask you something” I said, trying to look anywhere but at the intense gaze that was starting back at me. They nodded, giving me the go ahead to continue.

“Why didn’t you kill me” I asked 

“Did you want me to kill you?” They asked, sounding almost puzzled. I let out a sigh “No- I don’t mean it like tha-” I stopped myself, feeling like an idiot I should have just left it alone. 

Bloodhound tilted their head “You know, never mind- it doesn’t matter” but as I was about to walk off i felt a hand on my wrist, stopping me suddenly. “If it is bothering you, tell me” Bloodhound came closer, the close proximity throwing me off once again.

“Like you did with Wattson and Octane” I paused for a second trying to ignore how close they were to me and gather my thoughts “You took them right out, with no mercy- but you waited with me”

“I didn’t want you to suffer” They spoke, the hand came up to push my hair behind my ear, revealing the small stitches on the top of my ear caused from the triple take bullet. The same movement had that they had done in the match brought back the same feelings, causing me to hold my breathe trying to keep my composure. 

Their hand moved to my stomach grazing over the same area of where they had shot me. “The same reason I shot you here, because it would only wind you and the pain would be minimal” 

The touch sent Goosebumps all over my body, my heart hammering in my ears as I looked up at Bloodhound. “Why” I whispered, both of us lost in the moment because we had managed to get even closer barely any space between our bodies.

“You are special, the Allfather has blessed me with you” Their thumb tracing over my bottom lip then falling to my jaw tracing the few dotted cuts on it slowly, “that is why I could not kill you”

[headoverhiddles]

The Romance Of A Yellow Rose - Dr. King Schultz x Reader [Smut]

Words: 5.6k

Synopsis: You and King get married, and celebrate your first night together by consummating the marriage. 

Commissioned by a friend! Enjoy.

Your eyes open on the rugged planes of the Southern state the three of you had found yourselves in. As you roll over to stretch the sleep out of your body, you find a single yellow rose, native to this area. A smile grows on your face. It’s King’s way of saying good morning to you, as it had been for many months.

For years now, you had been tagging along with Schultz and Django. Having attached yourself to their travels three hot summers ago, the two men had become quite fond of your travelling company; King in particular. Over time, your relationship had evolved from a companionship, through friendship, to having romantic feelings for one another. You were the first to admit to them; King hadn’t wanted to say anything, as he still held a fruitless hope that one day he could return you to the pleasantries of the normal life you once knew, before it had been uprooted. But as the months passed, you getting more and more comfortable and (dare he say) suited to the lifestyle of a bounty hunter, it was becoming apparent that you were going nowhere. Not without him, anyway.

Hildy had decided to stay with some friends in the North while the three of you travelled the country on business. Texas Jack, Turkey Creek and Jack’s wife Camarilla were more than happy to keep her with them. It had put Django at ease at least, knowing they had one less person they had to worry about with them catching a bullet. Hildy was even teaching Camarilla different things she had learned over the years at their home, and the four were getting on fine from what Django took from her letters to him. King wished you had enough sense to stay with them, but where the older bounty hunter went, you went. You had made that quite clear.

Today, a warm day in mid October, you, King and Django were headed to visit a plantation in Conroe, Texas. There an outlaw by the name of Amos “Sly Eye” Little had been posing as an overseer for 3 months, flying under the radar on the small eastern Texan plantation. He wasn’t a particularly dangerous outlaw, only wanted for his habit of skipping out on poker games before paying up. Three months ago, he ended up double crossing the wrong man which led to legal involvement, and now to deter trouble in peaceful towns he was wanted dead or alive by the state. King and Django had discovered upon visiting this plantation that the family who owned it had been dodging the law for a while as well.

After the slaves had been freed by King and Django, this outlaw family just so happened to get in the way of a few bullets. The last man left alive on the property is now Amos.

“Back here!” you call. King dashes toward you, swiping you out of the way as a bullet whizzes by your ear. You sit in shock for a moment, King’s arm still around you. For a man who isn’t very dangerous, this Amos sure is trigger happy.

“Django!” King shouts, but his partner is already far ahead in pursuit. “Never listens,” the doctor mutters, loading his shotgun and aiming. You watch as Django dodges a couple more of the outlaw’s bullets before grabbing Amos by his collar, lifting him up a few feet. The man tries to scramble for his gun, but Django of course is faster. Just as he’s about to fire at close range, King clucks his tongue, looking through his target. “Bullseye.” Your eyes shut briefly as the snap of the bullet leaving the gun jolts you closer to the older man. He pulls you out of sight once more as the bullet hits Amos through the side of his head, out the other side in a bloody deluge. Django jerks his head up your direction, dropping the corpse into the carnage at his feet.

“I was handling it!” he mutters.

King comes out from behind the tree, helping you up with one hand. You brush off your pants as you both approach the other man. “You were being hasty again,” King says.

“I was handling it,” Django insists with a look. You two nudge arms amiably, and King gives you a disapproving look.

“You are encouraging him.” He turns to Django. “And you’re encouraging her.”

“What’s wrong with a little congratulations?” you giggle. “You got your dead cowboy.”

“I would trade a thousand dead cowboys to keep both of you alive. You’re the best things that have ever happened to me, do you know that?” King gives you a meaningful look, before brushing off Django’s jacket and squeezing your hand. “Forget this place. We’d better get the horses and get out of here.”

Taking the initiative, you go off in search of Tony, Fritz and Ida, your mare. Django approaches King, taking off his bloodstained gloves. “You talked to her yet?”

“She doesn’t know, no.” King looks down, nervously stroking one side of his moustache. “I was waiting for the right time.”

“You wait any longer, she’s gonna be burying her husband to be.” King doesn’t bother taking offense—he knows Django is right. He’s much older than you—not one foot in the grave as Django likes to tease, but older. That had been another source of insecurity for him during the burgeoning relationship, but you had made it clear that you didn’t mind; in fact, you liked the difference in age. King’s fellow bounty hunter interrupts his thoughts. “Y’all should get married here. Nice place, no one left in it now.” Schultz looks around the grounds. It is pretty, and it would be nice to marry you in such agreeable weather... but King shakes his head.

“No Django. This place was built on treachery and suffering. It would be not only tasteless, but bad luck to get married here.”

When you three make it to the next town in the state over of Arkansas, something is waiting for King at the inn.

“You Doctor Schultz?” the innkeeper asks, spitting tobacco into a spittoon. King nods, taking out his billfold. The innkeeper sizes him up. “Yep, man who sent this said fella looking like you’d be coming through here. This’s for you.” He takes a letter out from behind the desk in one of the cubbies, and slides it across. King expects it would be from Texas Jack, but it instead it’s from a different friend in the North; a sheriff acquaintance he had written to before about his situation with you. Thanking the man, you all head upstairs, and when King gets to a desk, he slips on his reading glasses.  

 Thought you’d make your way through this here town, Schultz-

Sounds like a hell of a woman, the one you’ve told me about. You softie. Knew you wanted to settle down, and it’s about damn time, too. What the hell are you doing with her down in the South then? She oughtta be up here. Maybe I’m biased, but there’s a lot more law n order up here. Better people too. I am biased, spose.

You asked me what I thought about asking for her hand. Why wait to marry her? Hell, bring her up, we’ll have a ceremony here! I’m not only a sheriff, but an ordained minister too. Bet you didn’t know that. Wouldn’t kill you to ask. Anyway, no reason why I can’t make things look good, clean up the place nice and host your happy union. Got some more birthday cake here too, for someone to eat. Pretty good.

Come on up when you finally convince yourself she won’t say no.

- G. A.

“You got a letter back from Sheriff Snowy Snow?” Django smirks. King stares at the letter in his hands for a long while, before looking up at him with a smile.

He could do it. He could finally ask for your hand.

“Django, my boy. We’re going to Nebraska.” You overhear, and turn back with the bags.

“Up North? What for?”

“To see an old friend of mine, fraulein,” King says, taking the bags from you to carry inside. “Sheriff Gus Arnett.” You smile. It’ll be nice to get out of all this heat and around some likeminded people—people who King can relax and be himself around.

You had all stopped off to pick up Hildy in Boston after travelling by train through the Southern states and switching back to horsepower as you made your way up through the wintery landscape of barren northern land. It was worth it, of course; King and Django had insisted Hildy come too, and you had been happy for female company.

“Has my troublemaker been behaving himself?” is the first thing Hildy asks you, kissing your cheek in greeting.

“About as much as mine has,” you laugh.

“Coming from the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met. It is you who has been the naughty one,” King chastises you right back.

“Maybe one day, you can teach me a lesson for it.” King blushes as Hildy lets out a loud laugh at the connotations of such a taunt. He knows you’re still virginal, waiting for marriage as you’ve told him before. Once united by matrimony, that’s another wall that could be knocked down between you, if you decided you still wished to give yourself to him.

It was no secret you wanted King, and he had made it plain he would wait for you—he’s a gentleman in every sense of the word. Still, men have needs, and some late nights it had been hard. Many evenings by the fire had ended with you in his lap, grinding down as you kissed him with feverish intensity. It had always ended the same way however, with you heading off to sleep alone and leaving him with nothing but his mind to picture what the next hour may have felt like. This time, King feared he wouldn’t last once he finally got to feel you as he’d wanted to for so long. Either way, he had a silver tongue, and experience in the art of pleasuring a woman. He wouldn’t leave you wanting; whatever you needed he would give you.

 Arriving at the snowy lodge some days later, Sheriff Gus Arnett comes out the front door. A couple of minks and rabbits are hanging from the roof over the porch, and two pairs of boots caked with snow are drying outside by a wooden rocking chair that had been collecting frost no doubt since September.  

“King Schultz and Django Freeman, in the flesh! Come on in with your little ladies!” he says, opening his arms. You approach first, and he shakes your hand with the assurance of a man who’s not used to gentle handshakes. “I don’t believe we’ve met, ma’am,” he says softly, “But any friend of King’s is a friend of mine. Especially a friend like you.” He winks at you and smirks over at King, who ushers you in out of the cold quickly. Gus tips his hat at Django and Hildy, closing the door after they come in.

“Like I said,” he sighs, “We got some cake. Y’all want some?”

“Perhaps we wait until after dinner?” Schultz proposes.

“I wouldn’t mind some,” Django speaks up, giving King a look. King just chuckles.

“Go ahead, my boy. I was a dentist, remember. Old habits remain, I suppose. Would you like some, (y/n)?”

“I’ll have the piece you didn’t want,” you tease. You lean closer to him to brush your lips against his ear. “When it comes to you, I want everything.” The former dentist swallows. This proposal couldn’t come at a better time, as things between you two are heating up.

That night after dinner of rabbit stew and some leftover cake for dessert for everyone but your beloved, everyone had retired to bed a few hours after the sun had gone down. In your own room, you set your satchel on the bed of clothing you had been travelling with in the South, and just as you’re about to unpack, a knock at the door distracts you from your task. King slowly pushes the door open—he’s dressed in his white shirt and grey vest, his hair freshly combed back. It seems counterproductive to groom that well before bed, but to be fair, you had never personally witnessed King’s nocturnal habits in a place that allows such a luxury. He offers his arm, and when you take it in curiosity, he leads you out the back porch of the lodge home. The wind isn’t too cold tonight, but he still wraps his arm around you. The mountains are beautiful out here, and the snow has stopped for the night to allow for a crystal clear view of the surrounding landscape, snow white on the bottom and starry black on top.  

“It’s been a while since we’ve been able to sit together like this,” King says. “Just sit and enjoy one another’s company alone. It’s very rare we get time just the two of us without our faithful hero.” You lean into him, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Mm. We’re usually around a campfire, with Django snoring behind us.”

“At least we don’t have any of that to score our evening. I think Django’s gone to bed with Hildy in there.”

“You should be in bed too,” you fret. “I’ve noticed you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I never have been very good at that. I’m a light sleeper, fraulein. Especially when I have lots on the mind.”

“You know what helps me when I can’t sleep?” You smile. “Something I learned from you.” King turns to look at you, a soft chilly breeze blowing the silver blonde hair from his eyes.

“What’s that?”

“A story.”

King ducks his head, and pulls you closer to him. “I think that would do the trick. Go on then, my love. Will you regale me?”

“I know a story of a deep running love, where a woman slowly developed feelings for one who she learned to depend on.”

“A common story, no?” King teases.

“Shhh. She loved very freely, but this was different. She not only loved this man, but worried about him when he wasn’t around, yearned for him, desired him in ways that drove her crazy sometimes.” King’s breath audibly quickens.

“And what did our heroine do about this tumultuous situation?”

“Oh, she took care of things. But not like she knew he could.” His breath hitches. You bite your lip as you go on. “The two had been together so long... learning one another’s quirks, laughing at little things and sharing moments others wouldn’t understand. They knew what scared them, what made them smile. At the end of the day, she told the man a million times how she adored him. But she was afraid he still didn’t know how much.”

King rubs down your finger, eyes trained on it before looking up at you. “I think I do.” You forget whatever you were going to say next as King rubs his rough fingers over your knuckles, bringing them up to his lips to kiss them. His beard grazes your skin pleasantly as he opens his mouth. “Will you be my wife?” Your heart skips a beat.

“Truly?”

“True as my love for you.”  

“Tomorrow?”

“If you wish.” You lean in to kiss him.

The door bangs open, Gus tosses a pail of water out all over you two. He realizes where you two were sitting, and his eyes widen.

"Gott verdammt."

“Oh, hell. I’m— what are the two of you doing out—?” He can’t even finish his sentence—you’re laughing too hard. King tries to keep up a grumpy facade at the fact that you had both just been drenched in ice water in this weather, but he can’t help it. Your laughter is infectious.

“Please tell me there is enough boiled water for a bath,” he sighs, and you shiver. “For the fraulein, at least.”

Django and Hildy had been up to witness the commotion from the noise of it all, no doubt committing the sight to memory for future teasing. They returned comfortably to bed with one another, which was a comfort you and King couldn’t currently afford in your state.  

You get to work drawing the bath as Gus passes you each pails of hot water. King comes in, shedding his dripping fur coat and tugging at his tie. Your eyes drift down to his chest, then back up to his face. King subsequently tries to distract himself so as not to focus too hard on you. You had stripped down to your slip, which was stuck to every curve of your body from the water. The temperature hadn’t done much to help any other evidence of the cold, around your breasts. He tries not to look too long.

“Would you take me out of this?” you ask. It’s a harmless question, but King’s thoughts run wild. He could simply refuse you, but what reason would he give then? That he couldn’t control himself around you, so close to your wedding night?

“Of course,” he sighs softly, and approaches. He takes the back of the slip and undoes the buttons, helping you pull it over your head. He inches it up, the wet material dragging along your skin. He turns to go as you’re revealed, and to his dismay, you don’t stop him. Only one more night, and he could have all of you.

As you step out of the lodge, it’s as if you’ve stepped out into a painting. A light dusting of snow is falling over you, snowflakes catching in your eyelashes and melting tracks down your cheeks like tears of happiness. King is standing there at the end of the pathway shovelled out, just by the small lake. It’s frozen over, reflecting the light of the moon through every little icicle hanging from the branches of trees hanging over top of it. Mountains soar around the group of you, boasting the most beautiful landscape you’d ever seen.

King takes your hand as you approach. Beside him, you see Django dressed in a handsome green winter’s jacket, black leather gloves pristine. On your side, Broomhilda is wearing a beautiful green dress under layers of a form fitting brown jacket. You’re in a beautiful snow white dress with furs covering your shoulders and a fur hat. King is also wearing his grey fur coat. The two of you join hands, and recite vows.

“I know I’m a considerable number of years older than you,” King tells you softly, “But I promise to make up for this. I promise to protect you with my life, cherish you, and support you in every endeavor you wish to pursue.”

“I will stay by your side no matter what,” you tell him, “I’ll be brave when you can’t be. I’ll be strong when you need me to be. I’ll love you as long as my heart beats, and oppose anyone who tries to take you away.” Kindness in his eyes, King smiles down at you, crow’s feet crinkling. He lifts your hand up to kiss.

“Do you take this man?” the sheriff asks.

“I do.”

“Do you take this little lady?” King sighs out through his nose, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

“I certainly do,” he breathes.

“Well hell, you may kiss the bride then!”

When King leans forward, you surprise him by taking a step forward and wrapping your arms around him, deepening the kiss. It lasts for an eternity between you, and when you part, King brushes the snow off your rosy cheeks and presses his lips to your forehead.  

“Ich liebe dich,” he whispers into your hair, and you slide your arms around his middle in embrace.

Inside the bedroom upstairs, a fire crackles in the hearth. The curtains are open to the snowy view outside, and the frost on the glass only makes you savour the warmth inside. King pours you some bourbon, and comes to sit down beside you in front of the fire. As you cuddle into him, he puts a hand on your back and draws you in for a kiss, his beard pleasantly tickling your face. Bourbon forgotten, the kiss deepens, and you feel his tongue slip into your mouth as you part your lips for more. You pull away, smiling.

“Can I ask you something?”

He looks at you. “Of course. What are you thinking about?”

“How does it feel?”

King looks at you. “You will have to be a little more specific.”

“How does it feel to finally consummate a marriage?”

 He stares into the flickering fire. “We don’t have to do it if you’re nervous.”

“I didn’t say that,” you say, crawling over to straddle him. King welcomes you into his lap. “I just wanted to know. You’ll show me?”

“I would love to.”

“You know I’m inexperienced.”

“I do,” King nods.

“Isn’t that undesirable?” King seems offended that you would even suggest such a thing, at the very least ruffled by the idea of it.

“My dear, of course not. Being inexperienced merely means I can show you how to do things.” He hums against your neck, grazing his lips down.

“I’m not completely clueless,” you breathe as you tilt your head back to give him better access. You stand in one smooth movement in front of the fire, leaving King sitting and gazing up at you. “I know what fucking is.” You hear his exhaled breath.

“Yes. I would assume you wouldn’t be entirely in the dark about that.”

“But I’ve never felt it,” you whisper. “I wanna feel it, King.” He doesn’t get a chance to respond. You undo your dress, lace by lace, letting your fingers twine slowly between the hooks. You sigh his name as the corset comes free, recalling how you’d longed for him to do this last night, and you hook the straps of your dress under your thumbs, sliding it down to reveal the slip beneath. You hear his breath hitch, but he doesn’t make a move.

You run your hands down over your ass, letting out a soft noise. You hear him readjust where he’s sitting, and you work now on the cream coloured pants beneath the white gown, sliding them down ever so carefully.

“(y/n),” King whispers.

You let out a moan. “I’ve been wanting to get out of this the entire ceremony just to see how you would look at me, seeing me like this for the first time.” You swing your hips a little, arching your back, and finally wiggle some more as you drop your pants to the floor. King’s breathing is heavier now, and you stretch your arms above your head, sighing again as you let your hair free. “Like I said. I may not have done this before, but I know a lot more than you think I do.”

“I’m not certain I believe that, my feisty little one,” King huffs, averting eye contact. Oh, no. Not tonight he doesn’t. You’re only in your chemise now, and you turn to reveal smooth skin he’s never seen before, bunching the fabric up just enough to give him a peek of the v of your hips.

You can see the visible outline of his hardened cock in his pants, straining against the tight confines and desperate for some kind of relief. You put one leg over his lap to straddle him.

“Touch me?” you whisper, and reach down. He doesn’t stop you, just watches closely as you bring your hands to his pants, untie them, and reach in to take his cock in your hand. He does as you say, returning the touch with his hands up your back, taking the straps of your chemise down. He takes a shallow breath as your fingers come in contact with his warm cock. You grin wickedly, swiping your thumb up to spread his precum around a little. He meets your eyes as you pull him fully out of his pants.

“Oh,” he huffs gently, head falling back a little as you stroke him once.

“Is that good?” you ask softly, pressing a kiss to his ear. “Am I doing it right?” King stutters a little, gasping for air when you swipe over his swollen cockhead again.

“You are doing just fine,” King whispers, lips parting.

“Mmm,” you mumble, pressing a trail of wet kisses down his face and lazily taking his lips between your teeth, leading into a dizzying kiss full of tongue and one another’s slow breath.

“Stop. Wait my love,” King mumbles, stalling your wrist with his hand. You pout.

“What’s wrong?”

He opens his eyes to look at you, pupils blown with lust.  “After a show like that, I am at your complete and ready service, not the other way around. Tell me exactly what you want me to do,” he whispers gently, and you get off of him, lying back on the floor like a princess awaiting a treat.

“Could you pleasure me with your mouth?”

Your cheeks heat, but King nods with a smile, dispelling any nerves you might have for such an intimate display of sensuality. He lays you on the floor, pressing kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and across the top of the soft skin of your breasts. His hands come up to gently hold your hips down as they circle upward—he moves your legs so he can brace himself between them, pressing more kisses down over your stomach to the impressions on your hips he’s left with his fingers.

“I want you to have me,” you whisper. King strokes one hand along your thigh.

“It takes time to discover each and every spot that will make you weak for me, lieb,” he mumbles, mouthing at your panties with a practiced finesse. “Be a good girl now for me. Be patient. There is more to come.” The bounty hunter takes the panties down with deft fingers, sliding the fabric down your legs until you’re bare to him. Your cheeks heat, but he reassures you with a starstruck gaze, looking over your body like a lovesick man. He dips his head back down with a soft kiss to your thigh, reaching up to hold your hips as if he’s predicted your body’s reaction already. He presses a reverent kiss to your clit, and his tongue takes a sweep of your folds, making you quiver as his beard scratches the soft skin of your thighs. His prediction proves correct when your hips jerk up as he gives his first lick between your lips. You reach back to grab the carpet, before deciding instead to grip onto his blonde and silver locks where his mouth works between your legs. It’s a surreal pleasure—unlike anything you’ve felt before, and you want more.

 “Does that feel good?” King asks. All you can do is nod, but he encourages you to tell him exactly how you feel. “Use your words, fraulein.”

“Yes. Don’t stop,” you sigh.

“My good girl.” King dips back down, swirling his tongue around your bud until you’re shaking. Taking care to hold you close to him, he moves himself up until he’s grinding himself against you. “I want nothing more than to be inside of you,” he whispers.

“Take me as you wish then,” you groan.

“Tonight is about you,” he murmurs against your skin.

“I want it.”

Unbuckling himself, he takes his time slowly working a finger inside of you. He adds another and gently curves them up, before gauging your reaction. Going by the desperation in your face, he slowly replaces his fingers with his cock, pausing every inch to check and see if you’re still alright. You can tell how he’s exercising his restraint—you’re so tight, and all he wants to do is take you until both of you are sweaty and screaming, but he must make this last. You can feel him sliding into you, and his hand comes up to hold yours. Your eyes screw shut as he finally bottoms out, and he presses a kiss to your chest. “Tell me when it is okay to move.” You nod.

“Please.” He starts up a slow pace, covering your body with his as he takes his time with you. Too desperate to take the time King might have in mind to teach you patience, you push your lips harder against him, and roll over on top of him. You kiss the bounty hunter, again and again until your lips are swollen and King is painfully hard inside of you.

“Lift up your shirt for me,” he whispers, his voice gentle. “That’s it.”

“Have me,” you mumble.

“What was that?” King asks, “You must use your words if you would like something, hm?”

You blink up at your older lover. “Please take me King,” you raise your voice, and he smiles.

“Hm.” He gives you an affectionate smile. “I have no choice but to oblige my lady love when she asks as nicely as that. Very well. As you wish.”

He pumps in harder, ripping a groan from you. You’d dreamed of what this would feel like, and it turned out better than you had imagined, King’s soft sighs and the rocking of his body against yours heightening every touch he grazes your sensitive skin with.

A moment later, he pulls out and flips you over gently. He then positions himself between your legs and brings his mouth back down between your legs, suckling around your clit again. “King,” you whisper, breath hitching.

“Louder,” he encourages, and goes back to masterfully taking you apart with his tongue. He soon encourages you to sit on his face, and you do, feeling him lick you perfectly as the pleasant feeling of his beard returns to tantalize your skin. He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue as you reach down to touch his cock. It’s a foreign feeling in your hand, but you soon get the hang of the motions, twisting your fist and using his precum to slick your strokes.

“King... don’t stop,” you groan, his tongue delving just barely inside of you. He moves off of your pussy as you moan, and licks his lips.

 “I must admit, I wanted nothing more than to do this all day,” he groans as he moves back up your body, “But I am a gentleman.”

“Too much of one sometimes.”

As if in challenge, he picks up his pace and starts to grunt your name, leaning down every now and then between thrusts to press a kiss to your breastbone as his face scrunches up. You love how uncharacteristically possessive King is getting– it turns you on beyond belief. Your moans grow loud as the bounty hunter’s cock fills you over and over again, satisfying your need for him as your noises blend together into the creak, groan, gasp of making love for the first time.

“K… King…” you groan, breasts bouncing with every thrust. His breath is hot on your neck, and he presses an open mouthed kiss there.

“You are astonishing,” he whispers, “You’re perfect… oh, bitte, bitte Fraulein, you feel so nice… you are my everything.”

“King, just like that, oh god–” you groan, and he makes a noise at your slutty display, reaching up to massage your breasts. You feel your orgasm approach as he continues to touch you, and his hand quickly comes down to rub your clit.

“Ah,” you moan, and clutch his shoulders. King sighs, feeling your pussy squeeze him, and with a stuttered thrust he cums as well, spilling inside you. Soon, you’re crying out his name, and he squeezes your hand tighter as you both finish at the same time, the love you share burning at the height of its passion as your bodies become one. You both rock together to ride out your orgasms until you’re satisfied. Panting breaths mingle as you snuggle close to him.

 “Is that what all the fuss was about?” you tease. King frowns at you, and you laugh into his chest.

“Into bed before I take full offense to your jokes, beloved,” he murmurs. You nod, smiling as he helps you up with one hand and carries you bridal style over to the bed covered in furs for a warm night’s sleep together—finally together. 

"I am lucky I have such a pretty creature warming my bed tonight," he jokes, "A plucked chicken like me should be very grateful." You huff another laugh, rolling over beside him to finally tuck in with your love. 

"I've only ever wanted you. That'll never change, no matter what." You grin. "Tonight only helped solidify that fact." 

"So you are with me for my talents in the bedroom, ah!"

"NO--"

"I understand it now." 

"King!" 

"Shh. Let's sleep now. We will argue like an old married couple in the morning." 

The next day, Hildy and Django are already in the living room of the lodge. Gus is in the kitchen making up some breakfast.

“You look radiant this morning,” Broomhilda says, smile wide.

“Yeah. You do look pretty good. Different,” Django nods, narrowing his eyes as if to try and decipher what could have changed about you. Hildy just rolls her eyes, turning back to you from her own husband.

“So. Where’s your significant other?” You grab yourself a cup for the coffee that’s brewing, settling in across from them at the table.   

“He’s still sleeping. He worked hard last night.” Tucked in the pocket of your nightgown is a single perfect, yellow rose he had saved you from the South, one King had left his new wife to find upon waking.

[liloelsagranger]

Night shift - finally a new Rocketshipping-fanfiction

My dear friends,

it’s been a while since I last posted an entry. Let me tell you why and what, besides Covid-19, made me pause from publishing fanfictions over the last couple of months. Of course, Switzerland was very affected by the pandemic and still is today. We had numerous lock-downs or as Swiss people call it “slow downs”. My mother got very sick last year, I almost lost her. The doctors said she would only live two or three more days, but my mom is a fighter. She had to stay at the hospital for months, she endured countless medical examinations, had to take meds and slowly learned to live again. I’m so proud of my mother that she was strong and determined to get better. When she turned back home, I started to take care of her and I hate to leave her on her own, even if we’re talking about half an hour or less. Right now, she’s doing quite good, actually, we’re on vacation and she makes a great effort to participate in life in Italy. She’s my role-model! She will never be the same as before, but she won’t give up, she wakes up every morning to make progress. I prayed for her and her well-being, I prayed every single night she might get another chance and now we’re here at the beach and dining in fancy restaurants. It’s been a horrible year for everyone, a year full of sorrow, tears and desperation, a year where I was constantly afraid, the hospital would call me with some bad news, but she did it! She survived and she fights for her life! So proud! Good news is: I passed my doctoral exams and I’m officially allowed to call myself Dr. phil. des. Melanie C. but that won’t ever stop me from loving Team Rocket so here it is - a brand new Rocketshipping-fanfiction for you guys. LOVE YOU! Night shift

Chapter 1:

It was past ten o’clock when that miserable looking guy entered the diner. He inconspicuously sat down in the farthest corner of the café and immediately hid his face behind the menu card. Nevertheless, Jessie the waitress could make out the pathetic expression on his face, how he was cowering like a whipped dog. She had seen quite a bit in this diner. Drunks, thugs, addicts and other needy people who asked for a sympathetic ear, compassion and understanding, but that guy was different. He suffered terribly, but did not dare to communicate, instead he hid from the world so as not to attract attention and quietly endure his fate. Jessie had to do something about it. Of course, she didn’t want to play the Good Samaritan. She knew the tricks of the men who entered this diner. Most of the time, they told the waitress tall tales, hoping to be comforted, whatever they meant by that. But this young man did not make a shady impressionHe was well dressed, looked well-groomed, and Jessie was especially struck by his bright emerald green eyes, the only thing in his face that had not yet been veiled by grief and sorrow. She decided to do something about his displeasure.

“Did you have a rough day?” she asked while disinfecting the table.

He looked briefly into her eyes and nodded. “That’s one way to put it,” he answered, the gaze immediately lowered again.

This would be a taciturn conversation, but Jessie didn’t give up easily, she was a natural at making even rocks talk.

“Listen! No matter what happened, I’ve seen or heard some things. If I can help you in any way, my name is Jessie and I’m in charge of this table today. Let me just get the gum out from under your seat and get you a cold drink. What would you like?” She pulled a spatula from her apron and rubbed away the remains of the spoiled brats that marred her diner.

‘Wow,’ the young man thought to himself. ‘A strong, self-confident woman who lends a hand herself and who’s not above cleaning up dirt.’ Their eyes met briefly, and he forced a wry smile.

“You know, kid. You can’t rely on anyone. If you want to get everything done, do it yourself and don’t trust anyone. This world doesn’t give you anything for granted!” She briefly wiped the back of his chair before disappearing behind the counter and pouring the young man an ice-cold Coke.

“I have rarely seen you so concerned about a customer. Normally you show yourself aloof and only take the order, so as not to get involved in embarrassing conversations. Must be a really great pike, this pathetic creature in the far corner. Could it be that you’ve got a tiny crush on this guy?” For Eddy, teasing his best friend was the greatest pleasure. He didn’t know her like that. Jessie usually resisted any kind of small talk. This was due to her dark past, when she had repeatedly fallen for advances from men who were never looking for a steady relationship, but for a quick fix. Eddy had witnessed this bad time of his friend, how her heart was broken, how she was badly played with, and how she was simply dropped like a hot potato. Jack was the worst example of them all. While Jessie was already hearing the wedding bells ringing, he was making love to the women of the Strip and deceiving Jessie night after night with other broads. Jessie was devastated when she found out Jack was cheating on her. She was furious, not even at her lying boyfriend, but at herself for having been so stupid as to trust a man.

Jessie gave Eddy a light pat on the head. “Don’t be silly! That time is over. I can take care of myself, I don’t need male support for that. I’m a big girl, I make my own dough, and I keep my head above water pretty well. No, not a chance, I’ve sworn off flirting.” Nevertheless, she caught herself as her gaze wandered to the young man in the corner. “Oh yes, this time is definitely over,” Eddy smirked.

“Jessie, could you bring us a side of fries, please?” Misty’s order echoed throughout the hall. The twenty-year old waved her hands. She was used to speaking loudly, almost shouting, to attract guests to her daily water Pokémon show. Sometimes she walked up and down the streets of the Strip all day in the blazing hot sun, trying to win people for her underwater attraction. As an excellent student, she could have taught at any college, but she had decided early on to get into show business and make her living doing what she really loved, joined by Dewgong and Starmie. Her parents had not agreed with this decision at all, it was wasted talent, they had claimed, and had summarily turned Misty out the door. Since then, she had been struggling through life on her own, but could always count on Jess, the diner and her two best friends, Ash and Brock, young people who were also not favoured by fate.

“Temper your voice, twerp!” Jessie couldn’t help but grin. She spread the ketchup bottles around the table, hoping Ash wouldn’t spill on himself and the diner again. His constant companion Pikachu immediately hopped on his shoulder, grabbed a fry and popped it in his mouth. Ash and his Pokémon were carnies. He had trained his friend well and attracted many spectators with his performance. Most of them felt sorry for the guy and tipped generously. That’s why Ash was able to invite his friends to the diner every night, a place that gave them hope where they could experience security. They were convinced that nothing would ever disturb this idyll and that fate, for better or worse, had taken its course.

“Who’s that guy over there?” Brock wanted to know. He had barely sold chocolate and roses tonight. The others held back, but they were certain that their friend was just too pushy with women and that’s why he only collected rejections instead of green bills.

“I’ve never seen him here before. Must be from another area. I can’t tell you for the life of me why he’s wearing a suit at theses temperatures, he looks pretty pathetic to me anyways,” Jessie replied.

“Maybe his car has stalled,” Ash suggested, “and now he was forced to wander through the desert until the tasty aromas from your diner brought him back from his delirium.”

“Or,” Brock interfered, “he had to flee his own wedding because his wife is a real pain in the ass, unlike our sweet Misty,” Brock oohed at his friend. “Forget it, Brock! You and me, this will never happen!” She gave him a gentle poke.

“Enough now with your naïve speculations! Just let him enjoy his drink. We’re closing soon, so get going,” Jessie dismissed their absurd ideas with a wave of her hand, but at this point no one knew how right Brock was.

Dark thoughts hunted the young man. He knew what he would face at home if he was late. Beatings, torture, rebuke, harassment, were just a few words to describe his failed relationship. Unconsciously, he stroked his scarred arms.

“Can I get you something to eat?” Jessie pulled him out of the maelstrom of bad thoughts, of course she had noticed the wounds, but maybe he had gotten those injuries at work. The young man rummaged some coins out of his pants and let them jingle on the table. “Is that enough for a cheese sandwich?” Jessie hated small change, but she would make an exception for him. A friendly smile, a quick nod, and she passed on the order.

“Something’s wrong with this guy,” she whispered to Eddy. “He’s scarred, bruised and pays with penny coins. Possibly a vagrant.” Eddy couldn’t help but grin. “That guy’s been keeping you busy all night, Jess. What’s the matter with you? Are you getting weak?”

The young man could not overhear the conversation between the waiters, but he was sure they were talking about him. He sure made a rather frightening impression, but that was a private matter and not something you shared with a waitress in a diner.

His gaze drifted to the daily paper, which had two faces emblazoned on it: Butch and Cassidy. He had never heard of this odd couple, but according to the news, theses two were causing quite a stir and were terrifying the Strip.

“Oh, so you’ve already spotted them, those two knuckleheads! They keep the Strip in suspense, and heads roll when the taxes don’t add up,” Jessie served him the cheese sandwich and gave him a slight smile.

“Can I get you anything else?” He thanked her and took a hearty bite of his dinner.

The last half hour flew by and the remaining guests left the diner to spend the night on the Strip, as very few had a roof over their heads. Jessie set about cleaning up and Eddy checked the register.

The young man stood up and made his way towards the door. But before he left the diner, he glanced back at Jessie for a moment. A sigh escaped him. What if…?

Jessie returned his gaze and watched him go until the young man disappeared. She walked right up to his table and found a little note on the receipt.

“Thanks for treating me like a human being, James.” 

[sttngfashion]

5.26 and 6.1 - Time’s Arrow

Oh my god. Y’all. It’s a new Fashion It So post. In the year of our Picard 2020. Yes.

For literal years, Charlie and I have been like UGH WE NEED TO DO TIME’S ARROW PARTS 1 AND 2 BUT IT’S JUST SUCH A MONSTER.

Well, I’m doing a complete rewatch of the series with my partner and we just got to these two, so IT IS TIME. 

We open in a cave in San Francisco, where Data and Picard are checking something out:

Rent for the cave is $6,000 per month

Showing them around is this guy in a Science Outfit:

He’s ready to go night biking

We’ve seen this look before in both Silicon Avatar and Devil’s Due, and it’s functional, yet cute. Basically a windbreaker in jumpsuit form. 

They find a couple of items in the cave, including a pocket watch from 1889 and also:

I left my head in San Francisco

IT’S DATA’S HEAD!!! And it’s been there for FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. What could have caused this? And why is Data’s head so absolutely terrifying?

Is that fondant

This head is, in a word, haunting. The 2020 of heads. 

Data and Geordi chat in Ten-Forward about what the presence of Data’s head in the cave means. Data says it means he’s mortal; that someday he will die, and that’s comforting. Spoiler alert: that’s not what it means. But it’s a nice conversation.

Also, Guinan is here!!!

Merlot My God!! 

Or maybe: Burgundy-lightful!! Or perhaps: De-Crimson-alize Sex Work!! Okay that last one was a stretch but I really think I missed my calling as a nail polish shade namer. 

Anyway, she’s here in her classic look of a pizza-sized hat and a flowing gown/coat/top/robe. The collar here is a little too close to a mock turtleneck for my liking and honestly - this is a little staid for our friend Guinan. I want a TEXTURE or a SWEEP or some WIDE RIBBING or some PLEATS. Don’t worry, though...she will get plenty more later.

Then there’s some plot which frankly we DO NOT HAVE TIME to get into but let’s just say: the away team goes to a planet, there’s a temporal disturbance, and Data ends up here:

Huge mood

Where are we? Or should I say WHEN are we??

Well that old-timey font is a good clue...also the horse

Are we in the Old West land of an off-brand Disneyworld? Are we going to ride something called Large Lightning Mesa Train Tracks? What colorful characters will we meet here?

Winner of 1893’s Mustache Medal

This type of ‘stache is called a Fu Manchu, after the character Dr. Fu Manchu. It’s not...a great look? But it is memorable, which is sometimes enough. He’s also wearing a simple black cap, probably made of silk. He’s keeping it cazh.

So where are we?

SAN FRANCISCO, OPEN YOUR GOLDEN GATE / YOU’LL LET NOBODY WAIT / OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR

Yes, it’s San Francisco. And it’s *eyes popping out of head like a cartoon wolf seeing a busty babe* 1893!!!! That temporal disturbance was...disturbing.

So who else do we have hanging out?

Please check out our Vaudeville act, Knit Cap ‘n’ Bowly

These dudes understand those famous Bay Area MICROCLIMATES, amirite? We’ve got a Henley. We’ve got a buttondown. We’ve got a vest. We’ve got a coat. No matter which way the thermometer decides to go, THEY ARE READY. Also loving the pop of forest green on Knit Cap’s knit cap. 

We also have a 49er:

No, it’s not Steve Young. I googled “famous 49ers” to complete this joke so if there is a more famous 49er please let me know

It’s a literal 49er. Since it’s 1893, this guy’s been hanging around in town for a while, and he’s also familiar with the layering techniques one must master if one is to conquer the Bay Area’s climate. He also has a kicky Colonel Sanders-type tie. He asks Data for money and gives him a few panhandling tips. He’s chill. We like him. But don’t get too attached if you know what I mean!!!!

Data decides he needs somewhere to stay, so he finds a hotel:

Brian.

Why is this so funny to me. Brian. Why would you name your hotel Brian. Brian!!!! I know it’s a last name but like...Brian. HOTEL BRIAN. 

This bellhop’s name is not Brian:

Where’s your hat, bro

He’s giving us a classic bellhop look, complete with too many buttons. He gives Data the very important information that there’s a poker game happening in the back of the hotel, which means: Data is about to be RICH rich. 

The poker game includes a few good looks:

Louie Anderson IS Wolverine IN a Lands’ End barn coat

Two plaids? Sir...I salute you

Colonel Sanders Goes to Carnaval

Data, of course, wipes the floor with them so hard that he wins their clothes:

Didn’t get that barn coat tho

Yes, that’s the actual vest and the actual hat of those guys from the previous scene. Oh, I love it. I love Data in a vest over his uniform and I love Data with a feather in his cap. Let’s call it macaroni.

Meanwhile, out on the street, the plot is happening:

Beige: inescapable

This is our first taste of the decadent 1890’s sleeves that appear in this episode, and these aren’t even the best sleeves!! These are an amuse-bouche of sleeves. An armuse-bouche, if you will. 

Anyway, these two are aliens disguised as humans who are here to steal the 49er’s life energy. 

Pew pew pew

I told you not to get attached!!!

Back on the Enterprise, Guinan is doing mixology:

She would never call it something as stupid as mixology though

She tells Picard that he needs to go check out the temporal disturbance, too, even though captains don’t normally go on away missions, and then she gives him this look:

It’s that serious

When Guinan looks at you like this, you do what she says. 

Now this outfit is much better than the earlier one. We have some pleated sleeves, which I didn’t even think was a thing you could DO. We have some sort of functional(?) strap(??) across the front. We even have matching fingerless gloves which always make a look A LOOK. And if Picard wasn’t sure whether he needed to go on this away mission, she then gives him THIS look:

Okay now it’s REALLY serious

Back in 1893, Data is making something:

It’s actually just a really complicated and large music box that plays “I Left My Head in San Francisco”

He’s gotten his hands on some more period-appropriate clothing, including a bow tie and a vest. Since he’s not wearing arm garters and his sleeves appear to be the correct length for his arms, we can conclude that the shirt was custom-made, not ready-made, because Data is now a baller due to his poker earnings. 

Then, Data sees this in the paper:

I know her!! From work!!!!

Yes, it’s Guinan. In 1893. In a hat!!!!

We cut to the literary reception, which is honestly not as well-attended as I thought it would be, considering it got a GIANT photo of Guinan on page THREE of the paper, but okay. And who should we spy there but:

You’ll love my secret blend of 11 herbs and spices

No, it’s not Colonel Sanders. (Sorry, I really have Colonel Sanders on the brain because of that Lifetime movie.) It’s Samuel Clements, AKA Mark Twain. I had an English teacher in high school who explained the origin of his pseudonym (it indicates a mark of two fathoms, aka twelve feet, on a steamboat) and for some reason she shouted MAAAARK TWAAAAAIN when she told us that story so now her delivery of that line is in my head until I die I guess.

Anyway, it’s Mark Twain.

He’s wearing his iconic white linen suit with a black bow tie, and he’s also wearing a lot of prosthetics, because the actor playing him (Jerry Hardin, AKA Deep Throat from The X-Files AKA Melora Hardin AKA Jan Levinson-Gould’s dad) (was that too many AKAs) (you get it, right?) didn’t look enough like Mark Twain, I guess? In conclusion: what if eyebrow wigs were a thing?

Twain is having a chit chat with “Madame Guinan,” who is wearing what can only be called a sumptuous gown:

It’s 11:30 and the gown is sumptin’ sumptin’

There are so many ELEMENTS to this look! First of all: the color. Royal purple. Fit for a queen. Appropriate. 

Then: those sleeves! These sleeves are known as “leg of mutton sleeves” because they KIND OF look like a leg of mutton. Have you ever seen a leg of mutton? I haven’t. I’ve only seen these sleeves. Plus they have a stripe?? No, I don’t know why, but I LOVE IT.

The cuffs and the cravat bring this from “dress” to “lewk.” Top it all off with this hat and you have a true 1893 mood.

What bird is that feather even from

We get a few good extra looks in this scene as well:

Pink Lady is NOT wearing a corset

Look, sometimes you don’t have enough period-appropriate undergarments for all the background people and that’s fine. But I WILL notice.

Is that Loretta Lynn

I am loving all of this! That purple dress is fantastic, those stripes? I die. Military man has some fun flair on his shoulder, and there is a dude in a beautiful turban back there. Plus, another Black lady in addition to Guinan and That One Ensign Who Is On The Bridge Sometimes.

Data rolls in to the literary event in a different suit with a CRAVAT:

Craving a cravat

Data is like “we serve together on the same starship in the 24th century” and Guinan is like “huh” but then she’s like “okay” which...I’m not sure if I would believe that? But let’s just say it’s fine. 

Over in the 24th century, the literal entire bridge crew is checking out the temporal disturbance and I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL:

Blue Man Group...on ACID

These beings are like ghosts but also like Dr. Manhattan but also like pure energy. 

Then everyone goes through the temporal disturbance AND THE SEASON ENDS. 

Fortunately for you, this post will continue...right now.

Okay, so we’re back in San Francisco in 1893. You can tell by the horses:

Also the fruit carts

Samuel Clemens is strolling around with a reporter, telling him that he has a great story for him that involves time travelers and, like, protecting the nation.

Here’s the thing about this episode’s version of Mark Twain: he’s kind of a dick. Was the real Mark Twain kind of a dick? I just feel like Mark Twain should be JAZZED about meeting time travelers and not acting like a fuckin’ time cop* and trying to put the Enterprise crew on blast. 

Anyway I love his double-breasted vest.

See my vest

The reporter’s hat is technically period-accurate, but that style is SO associated with the 1930s-1950s that I would have gone with something else. He looks cute though.

Meanwhile, Data is wearing a three-piece suit:

My positronic olfactory synapses are interpreting something as...a fart

I hate brown, but this is fine.

Additionally, the beige baddies from before are back and this time, they’ve got a SNAKE CANE:

Love the snake cane, hate how they suck the life out of people

But we are not here for them, we are here to see our faves in period clothing. Our first look is at Riker, who is dressed as an actual cop, not a time cop like Mark Twain:

The past just had...so many buttons

I guess if you’re a time-traveling white man there are worse disguises than a cop. But WHERE DID HE GET THIS UNIFORM? I choose to believe that he found a cop with a similar large handsome body to his own and beat the shit out of him and stole his clothes. Now we can all enjoy imagining a cop being beat up.

The badge that Riker is wearing is a great historical detail; the SFPD started wearing them in 1886 and are reportedly the first law enforcement agency to have worn the seven-pointed star, which is now a common shape among sheriff’s departments across the United States.

But let’s move on to a better look: Dr. Beverly Crusher:

Curlz MT

Okay, now I have more questions. Beverly obviously wouldn’t beat someone up for their clothes, so where did SHE get HER outfit? And who did her hair? Did she do her OWN hair? Where did she get a curling iron? Does she know how to use a curling iron? Was it one of those ones that’s actually made of iron that you have to heat up in a fireplace? 

We will get answers to zero (0) of these questions.

We actually get a much better look at her dress later, so let’s focus on that cloak!!! I love it and I also love her hat. Okay, I guess I had less to say about those than I thought.

Bev and Will, along with the rest of the officers, have somehow procured a room/apartment in some lady’s lodging house. It’s cute!

They gave it 5 stars on AirBnB

This also raises questions. How did they get this room? How many bedrooms does it have? Are they sharing one large bed? If so, who has to sleep crossways at the foot of the bed and why is it Geordi? We will get zero answers to these questions as well, so let’s move on to arguably the hottest costume in this two-parter:

I’ll be in Holodeck 4

Whewwwwwww. He’s giving us a rolled sleeve. He’s giving us a casual tweed vest. The pants? They’re perfect. And he KNOWS how that slouch is working. It’s working VERY well. But the Irish landlady? She’s having NONE OF IT.

Absolutely NO nonsense

She needs the rent, but Picard charms her and she leaves. So I guess that’s how they got the room. Her look is knitwear-forward:

Eileen Fisher does sound like an Irish name

She’s got a shawl AND a cardigan! The cozy factor is OFF THE CHARTS. She also has a brooch, because a touch of fancy is always welcome. I will say that her hair is a little more fashion-forward than I’d expect for a woman of her age and station. This is straight up 1890s hair, and she would probably still be rocking an 1860s look, which isn’t as sweepy and would likely involve more braids. Still, she looks lovely. 

Geordi is also here looking dapper:

Make the collar as high as you can. I want to be sliced open by my own collar

You CAN go wrong with a three-piece suit, but it’s difficult to. He can’t wear his visor, so he has some kicky shades which we’ll get a better look at in a sec.

Back at the Hotel Brian (lol), the bellboy (who we learn in this scene is Jack London, inspired to be a writer by Mark Twain [citation needed]) lets Mark Twain into Data’s room and allows him to look around unsupervised. This is very bad hotel management. 

Great Scott

Then Data and Guinan show back up, and Mark Twain hides in an armoire.

One short day in the emerald brocade

I think one reason I love Guinan’s looks so much, both in the 24th and the 19th century, is that our color palette is very similar. We’re both winters. Bold jewel tones are the vibe. This one is in a beautiful deep green fabric with what looks like a velvet flocking pattern on it. The collar is also velvet, and I love that sleeve with a flounce on top like there wasn’t already enough fucking fabric on the sleeve so they just added a random piece to be like “yes, bitch. I’m a sleeve.”

Naturally, the hat is also jaunty af:

San Francisco’s hottest milliner is: Madame Guinan

This hat has everything: feathers, netting, a brim, an angle that makes you think it’s going to fall off but it doesn’t. We stan.

Meanwhile, Picard is setting up a sensor in a hospital while wearing a hat:

I’m bowled over

We haven’t even asked where Picard got these clothes, but I would like to point out that he’s dressed as a lower-class guy, while Riker is a cop, and Geordi looks like a gentleman. Was there even a discussion they all had about how they would disguise themselves? Was Picard like “I just really want to wear a beat-up bowler hat” and since he’s the captain, they extrapolated from there? This episode is NOT CONCERNED about any of this. They all have clothes, end of story. 

Bev even has TWO outfits!!

Hello nurse!!!!

I love this look. She still has her unlikely hairstyle happening, which means her nurse’s cap is sitting atop her voluminous hairstyle. (Not very practical, but realistic!) She’s sporting a simple striped dress and a button-on apron. (Look closely and you can see the two buttons holding the apron to the dress.) The fabric underneath might be cotton seersucker, but it’s likely a lightweight cotton or linen twill. You can see how closely her look matches these nurses from a similar time period:

Hello nurses!!!!

Deanna is also in this scene and this episode, but you wouldn’t know it from what she’s given to do. HUGE SHOCKER: TROI NOT GIVEN ENOUGH TO DO IN AN EPISODE. 🙃

She still looks beautiful:

Why aren’t capelets more popular

We never get a really GREAT look at her whole outfit, but I can tell you that it has a capelet, it’s in the red family, and the hat has a lot of business going on. For those reasons: approved. It has a flounce in the back too:

More fabric = more wealth

Sometimes I think about just how much fabric it took to make these old-timey dresses and I’m like...how did anyone get anything done?? It takes me like 4 weeks to finish a pair of leggings and those have like 5 seams and I own a serger. These historical bitches were sewing whole ass dresses in no time at all. 

Okay, so Bev is in this hospital and here come some more energy-stealing aliens, disguised as healthcare professionals this time:

I cannot take a medical professional wearing a LIGHT BROWN TOP HAT seriously, sorry

Bev AND this energy-stealing alien have BOTH managed to get their hands on the SAME nurse’s uniform?? I guess in the case of the alien, she is a shape-shifter, so she got her clothes from...that. And her hair. 

I hate this light brown top hat. If you’re going to wear a top hat, don’t DISRESPECT IT by making it BROWN, but if you’re going to make it brown, make it a good brown, like chocolate. Stupid energy-stealing aliens.

There’s a skirmish, the energy-stealing aliens disappear, and the real cops show up:

MOUSTACHE

Of course, the cops showing up is bad, because when has a cop showing up ever made a bad situation better? Never. Defund the police, but don’t defund handlebar mustaches. Those can stay.

Fortunately, Data has gotten a ping on that machine he was building before and shows up on a motherfucking HORSE:

Brent just wanted to show off

He’s back in his brown striped suit and red tie. Okay.

Everyone returns to the boarding house to suss out the situation, and we get a look at what Riker is rocking underneath his cop jacket:

Suspend me daddy

You can see very clearly here how the collar is not actually attached to the shirt. This was a thing people in the olden days did so they could wear their shirt for multiple days in a row and just switch out the collar and cuffs so they looked clean. As someone who is wearing the same sweatshirt for the third day in a row, I support this method. (If you’re interested on more info about collars, here is a very enjoyable article about them.)

We are also blessed with a better look at Deanna’s sleeves and bodice:

Black lace cuffs? Decadent!!!

You can also see Geordi’s shades, which suit him really nicely. One thing I’ve been enjoying on this rewatch is just how well LeVar Burton can act without having his eyes visible. He’s great. Let’s just all think about how great LeVar Burton is for a second

And also Bev’s dress:

I legitimately want this dress

I don’t think those buttons are functional. Can you imagine how annoying THAT would be? But I am absolutely in love with this dress. Two paisleys, Beverly???? A goddess. I’m also dying for that brooch with the chain. A+ look all around, great work.

Finally, FINALLY, Guinan meets the rest of the crew:

When you meet someone you won’t actually know for 500 years

She is wearing a hat that looks like a toilet paper cozy. Did your grandma have one of these? They’re so stupid and I love them so much. 

Picard and Guinan meet for what is the first time for her, but not the first time for him, and honestly it is...sensual?????

If I got a m’lady from P. Stew I wouldn’t even mind

Patrick and Whoopi truly do some nice work in this ep. But we are here to yell about clothes, so: LOOK AT THIS DRESS ON AN EXTRA:

Gimme dat dress

I just want that dress to wear around my house. I legitimately bought an 18th century costume dress to do just that, so don’t think I won’t literally do this.

OKAY, WE ARE ALMOST TO THE END. 

The crew, plus Guinan, go back to the cave where this all started:

Cave Club, the only club that meets in a cave

We get a nice look at the bodice of Guinan’s dress here and guess what: MORE BUTTONS. Buttons on the lapels, and also buttons on the front panel with the pointy top. I wonder if she has multiple front panels for that dress in different colors, like a Swatch watch. 

Unbeknownst to them, Mark Twain followed them!! Then there’s a scuffle with the energy-stealing aliens during which a few things happen:

Data’s head flies off

Mark Twain gets sucked into the temporal disturbance

Guinan gets hurt

Picard stays behind to make sure Guinan is okay

So we end up with Mark Twain on the Enterprise, where he sees Worf, and he’s like:

Buh-WHAT

Worf is also confused:

This is...extremely perplexing

We have a few more looks back on the Enterprise, including Regular Guinan:

ShoulderSpreads™: The Bed Spread for Your Shoulders

I love love LOVE this outfit. The color is perfect, the shoulderspreads are perfect, the front draping is perfect. It looks like a velvet housedress from the 1960s except FANCY which is kind of my ideal aesthetic. And it’s red (my fave). 

We get a quick glimpse at the barber uniform:

Bitch let me pass, idc if you wrote Huck Finn

This barber does. not. give. a. fuck!!!! 

Geordi reattaches Data’s head, the one they already had, which means this whole thing was a ding dang closed loop. The reattachment also kind of diminishes the whole conversation they had earlier about how Data’s head in the cave meant that Data could die someday, because...he didn’t. He still might, but his head is back and he’s fine now.

Meanwhile, Picard is still back in 1893 and they have to go get him, but only one person can come back through the temporal disturbance, so Mark Twain is like “duh I’ll go get him.” 

And finally Guinan and Picard can talk about how their friendship spans 500 years!!!!

Hey girl

Hey

YOU’RE WELCOME

*abolish the police

[playboysaleen]

Love Malady.

Part 2.

Part 1.

Summary: Daughter of the notorious gang of thieves. One day your brothers group kidnap a nobel woman. Feeling guilt you gave her warm clothes, tended to her injuries, and helped her escape. instantly the world falls under a deadly pandemic and is killing/infecting people left to right and you are the only one who is immune. All because you saved a girl years ago coming to find out... it was the goddess of death(Famine).

Warnings- cursing i think, violence.

___________

Present.

February 12th, 2021.

The night Buck got sick changed everyone's life. I waited hours for my phone to ring giving me the ‘okay homeboys fine.’ but Jaime walked into my room with tear-stained cheeks telling me Buck didn't make it.

Then a couple days later after Bucks death one of the guys found Adam dead with the same symptoms. Then Pedro, then Jackson, then Shelli, and it killed off almost all of my fathers gang. The disease spread like a wildfire. From our home town to the city, the state then just did this hopscotch move and expanded around the whole world.

The first year the doctors tried to keep it a secret but it flared so fast that society called it the ‘Sinister Ash’. There was no cure when the officials realized it was airborne, literally nothing could cure anyone. Some were lucky with similarities of a stomach virus and a mild headache, and there were the less fortunate. Headaches, stomach bugs, fever and cancer like symptoms. The strong can work through it but it was permanent. The rest who had it worst? Died off just like Buck and Adam.

“Why are you not eating?” My fathers voice rang me out of my thoughts with his thick Venezuela accent, I peeked at my father shrugging my shoulders. Grumbling, he focused his attention to Jaime as they went over the next move for their ‘purloins’. I grabbed my plate walking towards the kitchen running the hot water over the greatest plate, a thud sounded in the dining room which caused my brother's name to boom out my fathers mouth. I ran towards the other side of the table to grasp my brother's shaking body, cursing under my breath. I dialed 911.

“The ambulance is on the way, go Pa.” I instructed my father watching his face fall, he sighed placing his hand on my shoulder.

“Our time has come, I love you, my child.” he whispered, placing a soft kiss on my forehead making his way out the back. I cooed into Jaime’s hair as I held him in my arms praying to the man above if he could not let this disease invade my brother's body. ________________________________________ “Did you at least get the girls number?” Jaime stated in disbelief when he woke up and saw the EMT worker reeling him into the ER. I chuckled, shaking my head playfully, pushing his shoulder.

“She was pretty..” I mumbled causing Jaime to widen his eyes pushing me back-

“I TOLD YOU!” he laughed out loud when the doctor walked in with a clipboard. A man around his 50’s with a look that masked his face of light, but we all knew he was trying to survive like the rest of us.

“Good afternoon, I am Doctor Nives.” The man spoke ever so gently but his beard gave me Cap vibes. I nodded my head looking at Jaime slipping my hand into his.

“So there’s news, I do not know how you both will take it but-“ he grabs the x rays placing them onto the screen that took up half of the wall next to Jaime. I watched as the deeper detailed body of my brother's chest caged clouds of red, black, and green.

“As you can see you have stage 2 of the Ashen, the red that covers this area here-” Dr. Nives circled the red that surrounded the upper left of my brother's chest.

 “Covers your heart, but after running the test I see your red cells are fighting the virus and it knocks more time for you.” A lump formed in my throat as the last 4 words flew out his mouth.

“Wait, what do you mean more time?” His eyes soften sending me a sympathetic look, Jaime gasped softly looking down at his hands.

“Well from the lab work it shows that you had 3 months, but at how good your cells are handling the virus you have 6 months to a year.” He finished taking his gloves off and applying hand sanitizer,

“Since you ma’am we’re around him can we run some lab work for your safety?” He asked looking between Jaime and I. I looked at my brother to see him nodding my way, turning to the man I nodded as he clasp his hands together. 

“Great. We can move you right next door so you can stay close to your brother.” Reassuring the both of us, I placed a kiss against his forehead following the doctor out. I took a seat onto the bed leaning against the back of the wall holding out my arm. 

For the last 4 years I’ve noticed a big change in my appearance that it actually scares me on the inside. First year, I lost a tremendous amount of weight, the extra weight turned into bulk in the places I always wished for.. huh..

 During the first year, the acne on my face disappeared in thin air. One minute I’m trying to clean the pores with three different facial cleansers, I go to bed, then the next I wake up and my face is so clear. I was changing for the better, yet the world was changing for the worst. That first year we lost almost 2 million lives, including a lot of the people around me. 

The second year is what sparked my curiosity of my body. One night, I was cooking dinner for Jaime and I, having a heavy debate with who is better at shooting the knife slid through my palm causing Jaime to spring off the island placing his hand against the deep gash trying his best to stop the bleeding. We knew we couldn’t head to the hospital for the sake of our fathers identity and the groups, so Jaime wrapped my hand the best he could and called it a night. I didn’t like his Tostadas anyways. Next day, I woke up to change my bandage. I opened the wrap to see no gash from the night before. Eyebrows furrowing together I question my own body for the first time in my life.. I can’t be immortal, that’s only in books. Then I noticed it. From small paper cuts to bruises- my wounds healed faster than any other person. From taking days for a wound to close, a couple minutes and it’s gone. Clean. Like it was never there to begin with. 

Last year, an incident had happened; Traumatizing to say. Snuck out with an old friend of mine, talking around the den says she’s been trying to make a move on me but me being me I waved them off knowing she’s not the type. Met up with her, got a couple drinks in headed back to her place, got a couple kisses in. The kissing escalated until this small beautiful voice that I heard years back echoed in my ears, jumping back, I stopped what we had and went home. Next day I received the news that she passed away AND GET THIS- JUST like Buck. Since then, her voice echoes in my ear. It’s been quiet the last month, I miss it though. 

A pinch brought me out of my thoughts when the nurse smiled my way explaining what the blood was for and Dr.Nives will be in shortly to give me the news. I snooped around heading to my brothers room when my name was said from the doctors a couple rooms down from me. 

“That can’t be possible, it’s only been 5 minutes and she’s literally clean from head to toe.” A nurse quarreled, a couple more murmurs were heard but Dr.Nives voice caught my attention-

“Let’s do Code A.” A gasp was heard from within their circle with multiple disagreements, confusion flashed my face until a ‘yes sir’ and footsteps were heard coming my way. I sprinted towards my room taking a seat sending Jaime a small text message. 

“Heya Y/n, do you mind if I give you some antibiotics just in case you are diagnosed with the Ashen?” The nurse requested which I nodded extending my arm watching her place the small plate next to me. I squinted my eyes examining the shot that contained a weird dark substance. 

“Why is the stuff black? Isn’t medicine a clear color for safety purposes?” I blurted out, watching the nurse grab the shot striking the needle into my vein. I grunted feeling the warm liquid enter my body, I huffed lightly leaning my head against the wall. Then, it hit me. 

“Wait, what if my test comes back negative? Why do I need antibiotics?” I glanced at the nurse feeling my heartbeat raise as the room began to shrink.

“What’s… what’s happening to me?.” I whispered watching the nurse draw more blood from the previous spot. I felt like I needed to throw up, once the nurse left I wobbled towards my brothers room next door, 

“Man bro we need to get some take out when we leave this place- Y/n? Are you okay?” Jaime rambled out then his face washed with concern as I stumbled onto his bed. 

“I don’t feel so good Brother..” I breathed out looking up to lock eyes with his own. He gasped, wrapping his arms around me, rocking me back and forth. 

“Y/n…” he whispered, watching my contacts with my brown eyes slowly drain into this grey/golden color. 

“What the hell happened?” He asked turning towards the door making sure no one came in.

“They gave me the Sinister Ash.. I can feel it in my chest. We have to go.” I grunted using all my strength to push myself off my brother's bed wobbling towards the door. A cough formed in my throat falling out my mouth, my hand flew to my mouth watching the black and red substance pool into my hands. 

“Y/N?” Jaime shouted running to my side, I grabbed him for support walking out the room. I felt the fire in my chest pass when a small burp lashed out my lips. Sighing deeply I stood up straight facing Jaime. 

“I… I feel better.” I mumbled opening the doors to the emergency waiting room. My body collided with another grabbing them instantly- I gasped at how quick my reflexes were, even Jaime’s eyes widened. 

“Why thank you, I’m so sorry I- Y/m? Why are you not in your room?” Doctor Nives questioned looking between the both of us, I felt warm liquid on the side of my mouth. Quickly wiping it, a fake smile formed on my face slowly stepping back towards the exit just a couple feet from us. 

“Sorry Doctor, but I think it’s time my brother and I head home- our father must be worried sick.” I bluffed, gripping my brother's wrist, giving him the signal.

 “Y/n. We know who you both are.”

_______________

Thank you for the wait<3

taglist- @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​

[stxrrywildflower]

home for the holidays {g.w.}

pairing - george weasley x reader

summary - you surprise george for christmas

warnings - none

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

the one thing george always looked forward to every year was christmas.

for one, there was no school and no homework to worry about. but his true love for the holiday came from the family aspect of it. it was a time where everyone could be together with no worries.

over the years some people dropped, such as bill and charlie who had work commitments (though they still managed to come home every once and a while) but more additions more added.

you were the first outsider to be brought into the weasley’s for christmas.

fred and george became instant friends with you during first year, your multitude of classes together and love of mutual topics playing a key role in it. when christmas came around and you didn’t have a place to go, the twins waisted no time inviting you home with them.

you fit right in with the weasley’s. molly adored you, claiming you were one of the few good influences on fred and george. you found yourself spending more and more time at the burrow because of it.

but slowly your feelings towards george changed.

you began to realize that you liked him more than a friend. the once platonic flirting and gentle touches made your heart flutter and a blush form on your cheeks.

at first you were sure your feelings were one-sided. there was no way george would see you as more than a friend, right?

eventually your fear of him not feeling the same way slowly diminished. george became more touchy, flirty even. it was clear your relationship with him, versus yours with fred’s, was incredibly different.

george had finally admitted how he felt one snowy evening.

it was close to two weeks after christmas. you had another few days or so left until you were due back at hogwarts.

you couldn’t sleep one night. instead of lying in bed and waiting until you could finally rest, you tiptoed out of your room and headed down to the kitchen with the intent of making something to drink.

you placed a kettle full of water on the stove. just as you were grabbing a mug out of the cabinet, you heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

“can’t sleep?”

you hummed. “yeah, just wanted to come down here and make some tea. sorry if i woke you up.”

just as you finished your sentence, you turned to actually take a look at your guest. george was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen dressed in flannel pants and a loose white shirt. his hair stuck up in several directions, clearly disheavled from having just woken up.

“nice hair,” you commented next. but to be honest, you would be lying if you said he didn’t look good.

george chuckled to himself, moving up to run his hands through his hair. “mind if i join you?”

“of course,” you answered. “do you want a cup?”

“that would be nice, thanks love.”

once the kettle had let out its shrill whistle signaling to you the water was ready, you turned off the stove to pour the water in the two mugs. by now george had made his way further into the kitchen, jumping up to sit on the table.

you prepared the drinks in silence, adding in both of your desired amounts of cream and sugar.

“can i tell you something?” george questioned as you handed him his mug.

“of course.”

“well i’m kinda high on adrenaline right now and probably won’t remember this in the morning so i guess it’s now or never,” george laughed nervously.

you quirked an eyebrow at his words.

“look y/n, i’m not great at really expressing my feelings but uh, i really like you. uh not in a friend way i mean. i know it’s probably super weird since your my best friend but uh,” he paused for a moment, not exactly clear on where to go from there.

“you fancy me, georgie?”

he hid his face, clearly flustered at his confession. “yeah i do. it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, i just needed to get it off my just. i’m really sorry if this changes how we are and-”

you cut george off by pressing your lips softly against his.

the kiss was messy at first, neither of you having any experience in the slightest. george was clearly taken back at your initiative, though his confusion quickly went away as he melted into the kiss, hands moving to cup your cheek gently.

once you pulled back, george had wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him as he rested his head on yours. a gentle kiss to your temple followed that.

“thank you,” george whispered.

you looked up towards him, a slight gaze of confusion in your eyes. “for what?”

“for being mine.”

↓

the one thing george looked forward to was being able to spend your first christmas as a couple together.

he was visibly crushed when you had to sit him down and tell him your parents needed you home this year for the holidays.

nonetheless, your boyfriend had hugged you tightly. “it’s okay y/n, i promise. maybe you can come for a few days before school starts. i know mum would love to have you.”

“i’ll talk to my parents and send a letter,” you agreed.

george went on for the rest of the days leading up to break assuming you wouldn’t be together for christmas. but unknown to him, you already had a plan forming with a surprise.

the two of you had said your goodbyes on the train platform.

both of your parents were standing by each other, mingling with each other and waiting for you to arrive.

the second you stepped off the train, you greeted your parents with hugs. george did the same, clearly happy to see his mum and dad after months at school.

as the rest of the weasley family had finally made their way off of the train and towards the group, george pulled you aside to a less crowded area of the platform.

“i’m going to miss you,” he mumbled.

you surged forward to hug him. “it’s just a few weeks, we’ll be back together soon. besides, i’ll make sure to write plenty.”

you reached up to place your hand in his cheek. the gesture clearly brought george some comfort as he leaned into your touch. “please do.”

the two of you heard what sounded like goodbyes from both of your families, no doubt signanling you would be heading home soon.

george ducked down to press his lips to yours in a short kiss.

“i’ll see you soon, love.”

you kissed the corner of his mouth once more. “i’ll see you soon,” you confirmed.

——

just four days later you were packing up again. 

you spent as much time as you could with your parents before you were set to leave. you bid them a quick goodbye and less than an hour later, you were arriving at the burrow.

the whole thing was a total surprise, having been carefully planned out over the past few days.

christmas eve had finally rolled around and thus all the traditions that came with it for the weasley family. it was snowing outside, the ground already covered in many inches of the soft white powder with only more to come.

george stood stationed at the window, hands in his pockets as he looked out at the vast winter wonderland.

“george!” fred shouted from the living room. “should we deal you in?”

there was still a few hours to go before dinner. normally the weasley family would be outside playing quidditch or some other yard game but due to the weather confusions that clearly wasn’t possible. they instead opted for cards, something simple that everyone could play together.

“yeah, why not.”

george had only been sitting with his entire family for a few minutes before there was a knock at the door.

“oh george, could you possibly get that?”

“of course, mum,” he agreed.

after placing his cards down on the table, george jumped up to maneuver his way back towards the front door.

george opened the door slowly, eyes widening when he realized who was on the other side.

“room for one more?” you asked.

george’s face instantly lit up. “no way,” he breathed out.

you bit your lip to hide your grin. “hey georgie. i don’t mean to intrude but it’s freezing out here,” you spoke. 

he all but swung open the door to usher you inside. in an instant he was directing you on where to drop your stuff.

you had barely put your final bag on the ground before george was pulling you into a tight hug, clearly overjoyed to be seeing you.

“how are you here?” george immediately asked once you pulled away. “i thought you were supposed to be home for the holidays?”

“well,” you started as you made your way a bit further into the house. “your mum and fred helped set it up.”

george turned to the others in the room, molly and fred shooting him a warm smile. oh he so owed fred for this. “and your parents? what did they say?”

“they agreed to let me spend christmas here as long as i spend a little bit of time home during summer. just two weeks or so and if i’m still invited, i’ll be back here,” you spoke. george’s eyes symphasized at your statement. “but they did say they would love to have you visit during that time.”

his expression shifted once more. “i’m so glad you’re here,” he smiled.

you leaned up to rest your hand on his cheek. “me too.” with that, george ducked down to press his lips against yours.

“oi lovebirds!” fred shouted. “we’re starting the next round.

a blush was clearly evident on both of your faces as you pulled away. “shall we?” george offered you his hand. you interlocked your hand with his as he pulled you into the living room.

you took a seat on the couch, squished in between fred and george as the cards were shuffled and dealt out.

george leaned to wrap an arm around you, greatly aiding to his ability to kiss the side of your head. “you know that’s going to hurt your playing composure,” you commented. george just shrugged at that.

“frankly love, it’s worth it.”

a giggle escaped your lips as you nestled further into his chest.

it truly was the best christmas.

⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢⌢

tagging - @goldenxreid @wilburxpancakes @sunlightgalaxy @criminaly-supernatural @blakes-dictionxry @mrs-dr-reid @weasleytwinsfav

[dreamypeaches]

don’t wake up pt. 4 | rafe cameron x reader

summary: you and rafe discuss the future of your relationship

warnings: SMUT, cursing, drug mention, alcohol mention, death mention

word count: 4.6k (these just keep getting longer)

a/n: some parts of this i love, some parts i hate. this is a very fluffy, emotional chapter with a healthy dose of smut ;). there will be two more parts to this and i hope to finish the whole thing by this weekend! enjoy, lovelies!

series masterlist

You had been alive for many years now, but you couldn’t remember a single moment where you were as happy and at peace as you were now with Rafe. You had spent the rest of the day cuddling on your tiny bed, binging The X-Files. You took breaks every once and a while to eat, have sex, or just talk.

You’d never spent this much time with Rafe before. You made nice small talk when he would give you rides and sometimes you would engage in some pillow talk after he had railed you. The most you’d really talked had been that night on the beach. But now, he was baring his soul to you. He told you all about his family problems, how he could never please his father, never be as good as Sarah. He even told you, vaguely, about his problems with drugs. He mentioned Barry and all the shit he had done for him, but didn’t go into details and you didn’t press him for them. You listened intently, absorbing all the information. On the outside, you played it cool, giving him comforting words and touches, trying not to reveal how overwhelming all this was to you. But you continued to listen anyway, realizing quickly that this was the first time Rafe had really spoke to anyone about the problems swirling around inside his head.

In turn, he listened to you. You talked about your parents. Your dad had left when your mom was pregnant with your youngest sister. Your mom came in and out of your life, finally completely disappearing when your older sister turned 18. Your older sister had gotten married young to the love of her life, only for him to die tragically not long after the birth of their third child. Now it was just you three sisters and the kids, trying your best to stay alive.

Rafe didn’t pretend to understand what you went through. Being a Kook, he was so far removed from any of your daily worries that couldn’t even comprehend what it was like. But he still listened and provided comfort and sympathy.

Even though you both were talking about the problems that plagued your lives, it was easy to forget about them while you were laying in his arms. Rafe had been a figure in your life long before your relationship had started. He was the man who talked shit about your way of life. He beat up your friends, leading to you spend nights cleaning JJ or Pope or John B’s (mostly JJ’s) wounds. The Rafe holding you in his arms was a completely different person to the one you had known in passing, to the one your friends told you nothing but bad things about.

When you woke up the next morning, untangling yourself from arms of Rafe to get ready for work, you could feel the bubble that had surrounded you since last month getting ready to burst. Everything had changed yesterday. You knew you couldn’t go on the same way you had before, fucking each other’s brains out then disappearing the next morning, and you didn’t want that anymore. You wanted Rafe, all of him. You wanted to hold him and kiss him and tell him everything would be alright. You wanted to hold his hand and go on stupidly adorable dates. And, yeah, you also wanted to continue fucking his brains out. But then you thought of the Pogues and Sarah. You couldn’t lose them, they were your family. You tried to think of their reactions if you told them about you and Rafe, and all you could picture was JJ annihilating Rafe’s face with his fists, Kie, Pope, and John B’s betrayed looks, and Sarah’s disgust at you sleeping with her brother.

The anxiety was vibrating through your veins when Rafe found you. You stood at the stove making breakfast, already dressed for work. He came up behind you, shirtless, wrapping his arms around your waist and placing sweet kisses on your neck and shoulder. You easily relaxed against him, trying calm the voice in your head.

“Good morning,” Rafe said. Sleep had made his voice low and raspy, but you could hear the smile in his words.

“How’d you sleep?” You asked, turning the stove off. You tried to move to grab a couple plates, but Rafe refused to let you go, his grip on your waist tightening. You shuddered as his lips assaulted your neck, sucking and nipping at the sensitive skin. Your moans were quick to turn into giggles as Rafe’s fingers moved up to your sides under your shirt, tickling the sensitive area of your stomach. You shouted his name, wiggling in his arms. His laugh was addictive, loud and joyful.

“Rafe! If you don’t stop I will-” You started to speak between laughs, but Rafe interrupted you. He spun you to face him pulling you in for passionate kiss. Butterflies flooded your stomach, worries of the morning flying away as you fell into Rafe. The look in his eyes when he pulled away made your knees weak. It was a look of pure adoration that terrified and excited you at the same time.

“I’ve never slept better,” He said, answering your earlier question. He let you go, helping you cut some strawberries for the breakfast. You two sat at the kitchen table, Rafe’s hand refusing to let go of yours as you ate.

“I have work until 6, but my family won’t be back till tomorrow morning, so you’re welcome to just hang out here,” You said. Rafe nodded, chewing his eggs thoughtfully.

“Topper and Kelce wanted to go golfing today, but I’ll be back before you get home,” he replied, shooting you a smile. You smiled back before returning to your breakfast. You reveled in the domesticity of this: eating breakfast, holding hands, planning out your day. But the mention of his friends shoved your previous worries back to the forefront of your mind. You finished up the rest of your food, moving to clean your plate as you spoke. “We should talk.”

The easygoing demeanor had disappeared from Rafe’s face, replaced by a worried brow and fidgeting hands.

“About us,” you continued, “about what we are and what we’re doing, because, to be perfectly honest, I can’t go back to how it was. Not after yesterday, I can’t go back to just being your fuck buddy or whatever. I like you, Rafe. But I’m also terrified that any possible relationship will completely fall apart.”

Rafe had made his way over to you as you spoke. Taking your hand in his, he brought it to his lips to leave comforting kisses on your knuckles.

“I like you too, Y/N. I want to be with you. You make me happier than I have ever been. But, you’re right, we need to discuss it.”

You smile up at him and peck his lips, stroking his jaw softly.

“We’ll take the day to think about it, okay. I have to go to work.”

You start to move away, only for Rafe to pull you against him for a slow and passionate kiss. Reluctantly, you both pulled away to rest your foreheads against each other.

“I’ll see you later,” He whispered.

He walked you to the door, giving you several more kisses before you finally made it out. You couldn’t hold back your smile as you made your way down the street.

You set the glass of lemonade down in front of Pope while Kie gave JJ his Dr. Pepper. You enjoyed your job at The Wreck. Kiara worked her magic on her dad to get all the same shifts as you, making it a million times better than any other job you had worked. Plus, the tips were as incredible as the food, and you got a free meal every shift. The rest of the Pogues typically dropped in when you and Kie were working. John B and Sarah were off doing who knows what (probably macking on each other), leaving JJ and Pope to keep you and your best friend company on the slow shift.

JJ nodded towards you, pointing at your neck. “Hell yeah, Y/N, nice to see you’re getting some.”

Your eyes widened, free hand slamming down on your neck where your collar had slipped down some. Kie and Pope joined in on the fun, poking at the hickey on your neck and asking if you had a fun night. You just shook your head, ignoring the burning in your cheeks.

“Y/N, you’ve had hickies all over you for the past month. You keep skipping out on hanging out with us, and when you do, you’re always sneaking off in the middle of the night You’re either getting incredibly lucky, or your seeing someone and not telling us,” Kie said, giving you a pointed look.

You sighed. You were in no way ready for this conversation, but your heart hurt having to lie to your best friends. Their advice was important to you, and you needed it now more than ever. As you observed their questioning faces, you realized there was no easy way out of this.

“Yes, there is someone,” You started. You’re friends all started to speak at once, but you were quick to interrupt them. “No, I’m not going to tell you who it is. Not yet anyway, not until I figure shit out. I’m not even sure what we are, because at first it was just a mostly physical thing, but yesterday he came to my house and it honestly might have been the best day of my life. It was amazing! But, if we do start dating or whatever, it has the potential to end badly, like really badly between us and between…other people that we know and I don’t know if I want to risk it.”

The quiet chatter of the Wreck grew ten times louder over the silence of your friends. They took a moment to absorb your speech, each Pogue trying to find a way to soothe their friends mind. Kie was the first to move, taking your hand in hers.

“If you really like him, Y/N, then you need to go for it. You never know what might happen.”

JJ and Pope nodded in agreement. Smiling, you nodded along.

“You’re right, I should just go for it.”

“Fuck yeah! You get that dick, girl!” JJ exclaimed, earning a slap on the arm and a look from Pope. Grinning, you shook your head at your friends as you moved to bring an order to one of your tables.

“Would you ever date a Pogue?” Rafe asked, leaning against the golf cart as Kelce took his turn at the tee.

“Depends, how hot is she?” Topper replied.

“I’m not talking about a hook up. Would you full-on date a Pogue, like take her on dates and shit, It doesn’t matter how hot she is.” Though she is very hot, Rafe thought to himself. Kelce joined the boys, motioning for Topper to take his turn.

“Is that who you ditched us for yesterday, a Pogue?” Kelce questioned.

The three boys were supposed to go golfing yesterday. Rafe had been to overwhelmed and enraptured by you that he hadn’t texted telling them he couldn’t make it. Kelce and Topper had been salty about it since he had met up with them that morning.

“You’re still not answering my question. Would you or would you not date a Pogue?”

Topper returned and Rafe moved to place his ball on the tee.

“Fuck no,” Topper said, “I don’t need to deal with that baggage.”

Thwack. Rafe watched his ball fly across the green, only half caring about where it handed. He leaned on his club, turning to face his friends.

“What baggage?”

“You know, the Pogue baggage. All the looks and the questions. Plus, you’d have to spend time on the Cut and probably with her Pogue friends, who wants to do that?”

It wasn’t what Rafe wanted to hear, but he new there was some merit behind the words. If he dated you, there would be looks. People would look at you the same way he looked at most Pogues. He knew from experience that those looks were never good. The thought of you having to deal with all the pretentious, Pogue hating Kooks he surrounded himself with was nauseating. He wouldn’t be able to control his tongue or fists for very long, and that would end up putting him in deep shit.

The thought of spending time on the Cut wasn’t as bad. He’d spent a whole day there yesterday, though that was mostly at your house. The only Pogue he really knew, other than you, was Barry, and he was far from friends with him. He tried to imagine himself sitting with you, holding you in his arms while you laughed at something one of your friends said. Your friends, the Pogues who probably hated him more than anyone else, plus his sister. Picturing himself actually having a pleasant time with any of them almost made him laugh out loud. He pictured him and JJ having a conversation that didn’t involve insults and flying hands and his mind went blank.

All his doubts and fears about a future with you piling up quickly, almost drowning him, until pulled him out with a few simple words.

“I would date a Pogue.” Rafe and Topper looked at their friend in shock. “I mean, if you like them and they like you and you’re happy, who cares what everyone else thinks. Fuck ‘em.”

Rafe wanted to hug him. It was like the clouds had parted and Kelce was the sun shining down on him. Rafe walked up to him, a wild grin on his face, and clapped Kelce on the shoulder.

“You’re right! Fuck ‘em!” Rafe threw his club on the cart and started jogging in the direction of the club.

“Where are you going? We have a game to finish!” Topper yelled

“I have some business to take care of!” Rafe shouted back.

He jogged the rest of the way to his bike, a plan formulating in his mind.

Your walk back home seemed faster than ever. The giddiness and nerves pounding through you clouded your mind, making you zone out for most of the walk. Nothing would be the same when you got home. Rafe’s bike was parked on the side of your house, heart beginning to pound at just the sight of it. Taking your time searching for your house key in your purse, you tried to calm your breath. Whatever happened behind this door, you needed to stay calm. You wouldn’t let your heart be broken by Rafe Cameron, and your refused to break his. With a deep breath, you turned the key and pushed open the door to your future.

The twinkling lights were a wondrous sight. They laid on the floor in front of entrance, creating a short path to the kitchen. Rafe stood by the table, dressed in an outfit of this that looked familiar and comforting, but your couldn’t put your finger on why. His normally slick hair fell softly into his face, a style you preferred much more than his usual look. On the table stood a lit candle and a small bouquet of flowers. Two empty plates sat across from each other, so sparkling clean that you were positive they had not been in this home this morning.

Your once pounding heart had quite nearly stopped at the sight before you. Rafe met you half way, hands instantly falling on your hips to pull you closer. Despite his closeness, you were too distracted by everything to look at him. The once cluttered living room, which seemed more like a used toy store than a room, had been completely cleaned. The dishes in the sink were gone, and you could see the clean light blinking on the side.

“What is all this?” You wondered, finally meeting his eyes. His gaze nearly melted you with it’s warmth.

“It’s for you. I’ve never really had a first date before, wanted it to be special,” He answered. The word date made your heart skip. No words fell from your mouth as it dropped opened, lost in the shock of it all.

“Is it too much?” Rafe asked, suddenly nervous. You shook your head.

“I mean, it’s a lot, but it’s…it’s…incredible. I think this is the most beautiful thing anyone has done for me.”

The confidence flooded back into Rafe, who leaned down give you a quick, passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. The feeling of his soft hair between your fingers drove you wild.

Rafe broke the kiss quickly, giving you one last peck before pulling away.

“I left something for you on your bed. Go get changed, take a shower if you want. The food will be here soon.”

“Are you telling me I smell?” You joked with a smirk.

He simply shook his head, turning you and pushing you in the direction of your bedroom.

Moving toward the door, you sneaked a look back at Rafe, who winked at you. Entering the room, you notice your own clothes laid out on the bed. A pair of shorts, a flannel, and a crop top you hadn’t worn since…

Your mind flashes back to Rafe’s outfit and your suddenly transported to a moment on the beach over a month ago. The breeze in his hair, the light of the moon reflecting off the ocean and casting a dim glow across the pair of you. You feel close to crying as you realize what he did.

You grab the clothes and hurry across to the bathroom. After brushing your teeth, you strip and hop into the shower. In record time, your hair is washed, body scrubbed, and legs shaved.You dry your hair quickly, trying you remember how you styled it that night. Completely dressed with light make up, you stare at yourself in the mirror. Taking  deep breath, you step out of the bedroom and are greeted by a delicious aroma wafting through the house. You catch Rafe making some finishing touches at the table. You lean against the counter, watching him fret over the arrangement of the flowers.

“I think I fell into the water that night, because this is some alternate universe where Rafe Cameron is in my kitchen, messing with flowers.”

Rafe turns, surprise fading into a light blush at your comment. He reaches his hand towards you and you take it, allowing him to lead you to your seat. The plates were now filled with food, and you quickly noticed that it was your favorite meal from your favorite restaurant.

“How’d you know this was my favorite?” You asked as you took your seat. Rafe sat across from your and smiled.

“You threatened me with castration one night if I didn’t take you to pick it up.”

You giggled at the memory.

Digging in to your food, silence fell over the table. Both of you knew what needed to happen now, but neither of you wanted to be the first to speak. He instead asked you about your day, and you his. Sweet small talk filled the air as you finished up. When Rafe moved to take both your plates to the sink, you spoke.

“Rafe, this is really wonderful. The clothes and the food and the lights and the flowers, it’s all so sweet. But..”

“I want to be with you,” Rafe interrupted, causing your jaw to snap closed. “I know it’ll be hard and people will talk, but fuck ‘em! It’s all worth it if I get to call you my girlfriend. Even if it ends horribly, I want to try.”

You smiled softly, standing and moving to be in front of him. Taking his hand in yours, you placed a sweet kiss on the back of his hand.

“I want to be with you too. But I have some conditions.”

Rafe nodded, encouraging you to continue.

“First, we don’t tell anyone, for now. I think we should give it a couple weeks at least to make sure that this is good and real. Second, you need to be nice to my friends. No more fights with JJ or shit talking the Pogues. If you can’t be nice, at least be civil, because they are my family. I will also do the same with Topper and Kelce. And that’s it. Those are my conditions.”

“Well,” Rafe chuckled, “I agree to your conditions. I’ll be nice to the Pogues, but I’m not gonna force you to be nice to Topper, he’s an asshole. I do have my own conditions.”

“Shoot.”

“Come to Midsummers with me.”

You froze, hand releasing his and falling limply at your side. You couldn’t help but exclaim, “Midsummers!?”

“It’s still a month away, so that gives up plenty of time to figure this out. Not that we have anything to worry about, we’re fucking perfect for each other. I want you to be my date to Midsummers. I want to spend an unbelievable amount of money buying you the perfect dress. I want to get drunk on champagne and dance with you and make sure everyone knows that Rafe Cameron is dating the sexiest, most beautiful woman in the world. Then we sneak off early, get a little high, and I fuck you until the sun comes up.”

You feel your cheeks heat up at the thought.

“How could I say no to that?”

“So?”

“So…we’re doing this.”

Rafe’s grin grew so wide his cheeks felt like they were on fire. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed his girlfriend with a fire that burned brighter than the sun. You returned with equal energy, feeling his smile against your lips. His hand wandered your body, soft touches transitioning to hard grips and back again. Making his way to your ass, he pulled away to smirk down at you.

“Ready for dessert?”

“Shut up and take your clothes off.”

A trail of clothes followed you to the bedroom as you ran. After each piece of clothing fell to the floor, Rafe would grab you again, pushing you against the wall for a rough kiss before moving away to remove another item of clothing.

The smiles never fell from your faces as Rafe pulled you into your bedroom, making you giggle as he spun you in his arms to hold you against his chest, back facing him. You were both completely naked at this point and your mind was focused on every place where Rafe’s skin met yours. As Rafe’s fingers dance up your sides and stomach before roughly gripping a breast in each hand, future possibilities were left where they belong, in the future. Here and now with Rafe pressed against your back, nipping at sucking at your neck and massaging your breast, this is where you wanted to be.

One of his hands moved up to grip your hair, forcing you to give him better access to your neck. You moaned as he lightly bit at your sensitive spot, soothing it with his tongue. His other hand slid down to ghost across your already dripping cunt. Feeling his fingers begin to rub slowly at your clit, you let out a low moan.

“So fucking beautiful,” Rafe growled in your ear, “and you’re all mine.”

His fingers moved down farther, playing with your entrance.

“Fuck, Rafe, please, make me yours. Fill me up and make me scream your name.” Rafe groaned, turning you around and backing you up until you fell onto the bed. Hovering over you, his fingers tapped on your bottom lip.

“Suck.” He demanded. You took his fingers in your mouth and did as you were told, wrapping your tongue around them and sucking hard. They came out of you with a pop and Rafe didn’t waste anytime plunging them into you. You yelled out at being filled so suddenly, the pleasure flooding you all at once. He set a rough pace, the sound of your wet pussy and your lewd moans filling the room.

You quickly grew impatient, wanting to feel all of Rafe. You pulled his hand away, returning his fingers to your mouth and licking them clean.

“Just fuck me already, Rafe.”

He moaned pulling you in for a kiss that was all teeth and tongue.

“Whatever you say, angel.”

He plunged into you, filling you up completely and leaving you no time to adjust as he pulled out completely and thrusted into you again. Over and over he pounded into you, fucking you into the mattress. His hand wrapped around your throat, only slightly surprising the sinful noises leaving your lips.

“So fucking wet, angel. Is this all for me?”

You barely nodded, overwhelmed by the pleasure coursing through you. His grip tightened for a moment.

“Words, angel.”

“Yes, Rafe, just for you. This pussy is all yours. All yours, Rafe.”

“Yeah it fucking is.”

The speed of his thrusts increased, helping him plunge deeper into you. You were a moaning mess beneath him, yelling out every time his tip hit your g-spot. Your name fell from his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he mercilessly pounded into you. One hand moved down to your clit, pressing hard against it before rubbing figure eights into the sensitive bundle. You screamed out, gripping onto Rafe’s forearm to anchor yourself in reality.

“Scream my name when you cum one my cock, angel. Tell me who makes you feel this good.”

“Rafe…” You moaned. His fingers increased their pressure on your clit.

“Rafe!” You mewled as he took one nipples in his mouth, tugging on it with his teeth.

“Rafe!” You yelled as he made you see stars, your juices covering his cock as you found your release. He pulled out of you and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness. It didn’t last long, though, as he flipped you on to your stomach and started pounding into you again. A scream released from your throat as he slapped your ass, once, twice, three times.

“Please, Rafe! Cum in me! I’m all yours Rafe, make me yours!”

He leaned over you, pressing his chest against your back as he fucked you. The new angle, accompanied by the bites and kisses he placed across your shoulders, made your eyes roll back in your head. His hand moved under you to work your clit again.

“I want you to cum with me, angel. Cum with me.”

As his thrusts became sloppier, the movements against your clit grew more rapid. It didn’t take long for you to reach the edge again. Feeling Rafe twitch inside of you, you knew he was close too. Rafe let out an animalistic groan as he released into you, your pussy clenching around him, milking him as your orgasm overtook you. He rode out your orgasms, giving you a few more lazy thrusts before stilling inside you. His arm wrapped around your waist, holding you against him as he collapsed on his side onto the bed.

Rafe held his girlfriend close, savoring the warmth of her pussy around his dick, while she sighed at the feeling of his dick inside her, filling her up. The only sound in the room now was your heavy breathing. Neither of you could speak, but both your minds were running a mile a minute. Rafe pulled you, the woman he now got to call his, flush against him, peppering kisses across your cheek, neck, and shoulder.

A few minutes passed before either of you spoke. It was Rafe who broke the silence.

“Is this a dream?” He whispered to the air.

“No, baby,” You replied, “this is very real.”

He pressed a kiss to the place between your shoulder blades before resting his forehead against the back of your head.

“Then I hope I never fall asleep.”

taglist: @teenwaywardasgardian @kindahavefeelingskindaheartless @obxmxybxnk @butgilinsky @juliarose21 @bluesiderudy @ilovejjmaybank @diverrdown @diverdcwn @drewsephsmiles @https-luna @broken-jj

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[ajwrites52]

Batober Day 4-FEAR

(Set on a different Earth, please head to Ao3 to read the origin and background of this Batman. If interest is large enough, I might post some chapters over here on Tumblr.)

The chill October air sends shivers down the boy's spine. Most children the age of ten would be in bed, being tucked in by their parents. But not Jimmy Prescott, an absent father and a mother who worked nights, and the ten-year-old had nothing at home but an empty fridge. Like many boys in Gotham, he and the others found entertainment; this was probably the worst one ever devised. With only a flashlight in hand and the clothes on his back, Jimmy wandered into the cold and empty cemetery. He looks back at the gates, his seniors sitting on their bikes waving to him and pushing him to keep going. Biting his lip, he pressed on before stopping at the rusted fence and overgrown weeds that protected a closed-off part of the cemetery. 

"H-He's not real. He's just a story, that's it."

His trembling hand pried the gate open, the loud creaking of the hinges scaring a murder of crows to fly away, startling the young lad. He could hear his classmates laughing at him from a distance. He clenched his fist and shined his flashlight forward before entering the dark walkway towards the dilapidated and crumbling tombstone surrounded by rotten weeds. Jimmy shines the flashlight on the fallen golden plaque and reads it beneath his breath.

"Here lies Dr. Jonathan W. Cane. March 1635-1692. May his spirit forever lie in rest and never return."

He rummaged in his coat pocket and took a deep breath, his body quaking as he unfolded the slip of paper and set his phone to record. He stared at the broken grave and swallowed his fears before beginning to speak.

"Oh, dear Doctor Crane. Long may he reign. When the red roses bloom and the moon hangs in the air, shall your eyes open? When the crows cry out, and the land turns cold, shall you speak your first words?"

BRAKAKOOM!

He shakes as he stares up at the sudden arrival of storm clouds above him. He gulps before continuing with a shaky breath.

"When Gotham cries, and her children grow old and die. S-Shall your fingers grasp your scythe."

The second crash of thunder erupts in the sky, causing Jimmy to jump as cold raindrops begin to hit his head. He would turn back, but if he didn't bring back proof, he would be the victim of endless teasing and bullying by his compatriots. So, he continued.

"Will you stand up when the streets flood with lights and people? Will you take your first steps when your demonic servant takes flight in the night sky?"

The wind begins to whip around him, causing the drops of rain to feel like razor blades against the child's skin. He's now utterly terrified and wants to leave as soon as possible. 

'Screw this!' he thought. He grabbed his phone and crumbled up the paper before running for the exit. But the wind got stronger the farther he got from Crane's grave. He felt as if he was fighting nature itself as he got closer to the fence; the thunder roared and screamed in his ears while the lightning blinded him temporarily. Jimmy didn't know why, but every part of his body shouted to him three simple words.

"Don't. Turn. Around."

The hairs on his neck stood up as he ran faster than ever before. He felt something, some dark and horrifying thing behind him. He could hear it too; it had a voice like a cold blade scraping against his eardrums. He was almost there. But he then felt the wind whisper in his ears; it was that voice once again carried by the wind. He feels long, and skinny fingers wrap themselves around his neck while another grabs his left arm. A cold and boney presence places itself on his shoulder as he hears it whispers in his ear. 

"Don't turn around. Finish it."

Jimmy's eyes welled up with tears, his short life flashes before his eyes as he can feel his pants warming up upon him, soiling himself in fear. He wants to scream, to scream for help from his mother, who he wants to arrive and save him from this THING! 

"Finish it."

"I-"

"Finish it."

"Help."

"Finish it!"

"HELP! ANYONE!!"

"FINISH IT!!!"

He sobs and cries out, hoping that he'd be close enough for at least his friends to hear his pleas for help. But it was to no avail. No one was coming for him. Not his so-called friends. Not even his mother, who had no idea where he even was. He then felt himself being slowly dragged back towards the grave. The boy's body turns ice-cold as he nears the tombstone once again. He feels the claws of this creature pierce his neck and slither themselves into his esophagus. As he returns to the grave, he once again hears that same spine-tingling voice in his ear once more commanding him.

"Finish it."

So he did.

"M-Mr. Crane. Mr. Crane. When you stand and talk again, who will be your Scarecrow of fear before you disappear?"

Jimmy felt his vocal cords severed; he slowly held his throat. His hands feel something warm and wet. His torso follows the same sensation before his eyes look forward, only to find the graveyard gone and replaced by a dense, thick fog. Jimmy's tears hit the ground as something begins to form in the distance. A silhouette starts to form of a tall male figure walking towards him. His eyes widen as he recognizes the man. A feeling of elation and joy overwhelms him at the appearance of the tall, dark-haired gentleman dressed in a black cloak with a strange cowl with white eyes. The man removes the cowl and smiles, revealing a handsome gentleman's face with a kind smile.

"Hey, kiddo."

"D-daddy?"

Tears of joy now fall from Jimmy's cheeks as he holds out his arms for his father. The man smiles and embraces his son before whispering into the child's ear. 

"Why you, of course. You shall become my silent and strong Scarecrow while I walk the earth. For you shall show them all their true fears."

Jimmy freezes up, his father pulling away from the hug and looking at him with angry and hateful eyes. His father screams and shakes the young man, blood dripping from every orifice as he berates the young boy.

"I hate you! I HATE YOU! YOU USELESS BRAT! I LOST EVERYTHING BECAUSE OF YOU!!!"

Jimmy tries to defend himself, to understand as he feels himself sinking. He cries out to no avail. His father continues to bleed out before falling to his knees and screaming as Jimmy can do nothing but watch before falling into the grave of Dr. Crane. 

"Thank you, Scarecrow."

 His screams bounce against the seemingly bottomless pit before he can hit the metaphorical bottom. A large hand grasps onto Jimmy's wrists, holding him in mid-air, "Don't struggle." 

Jimmy could barely piece together descriptions of his savior, he couldn't tell where the shadows began, and the figure ended. All he could note was his piercing white eyes and the yellow light ruminating from his chest. His voice was gruff, almost like he was a monster, and his palm covered his whole wrist. 

"NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!" 

The tunnel trembled and began to fall apart; Jimmy looked down at his feet and screamed at the horrors he saw below. The shadows of the abyss below glowed bright orange; from shadows emerged a colossal skull consumed in flames. Its fanged maw opened up, unleashing a giant tower of fire upwards. The apparition roared with an abhorrent and ear-shattering scream. 

"HE IS MINE!!!!"

"Hang on!" The dark figure unlatched itself from the walls, its wings unfurling as they took off upwards towards the closing gap. The heat hits their backs; they escape by a hair's breadth, crashing onto the muddy ground. "Ow." 

Jimmy's eyes open slowly as the rain hits his face; now looming over him was the exact dark figure that saved him earlier. Now freed from the abyssal darkness, Jimmy could sparse more precise details of his hero. The glowing circle on his chest held an Emblem in the shape of a bat; he discarded the burning black cloak that once decorated his back. A metal cross with a gold center and silver tip; his body was covered in grey armor. His waist and face were covered by a black cowl sporting elongated ears. His white eyes didn't seem human; they were cold and detached. 

"Get out of here. This place isn't safe." His voice was just as cold and harsh as in the tunnel. He glares at the pit, walking towards the place they just escaped from; he pulls the cross from his back and stiffens. That's when the ground beneath them shook with deadly fury, the earth cracked, steam and hellfire burst forth from the ground sending both flying away as he emerged from the grave. 

"THAT BOY IS MINEEEE!!!!!"

His roar ruptured the sky and summoned a ferocious storm. The sickening orange glow illuminated the area as Batman glared at the light. 

"HE SPOKE THE ENCHANTMENT! HE BROUGHT FORTH MY POWER! HIS FEARS FEED ME!!!" 

Jimmy could no longer scream, the sensation of his lunch evacuating his body prevented as he looked upon Crane's indescribable horrific visage. His fingers, long like needles jutting out his bony wrists, his torso was nothing more than a ribcage with little to no skin attached to it and shackles attached to his arms and neck. But what would never leave the child's mind were his eyes. 

A skull covered by a burlap sack, sharp fangs in place of normal human incisors, and black voids with burning crimson embers in the area of eyes. Crane emerged from the grave, towering over them both like a giant while screaming in anguish and rage. His wide mouth tearing parts of the bag, revealing rotten skin underneath and long grey hairs. 

"YOU CANNOT TAKE HIM FROM ME!!! THE CONTRACT IS SEALED, AND HIS FEARS SHALL BE MINE!!" 

Batman spat on the ground and clenched the cross in his gloved right hand; in his other, he pulled out four Bat-Shaped daggers to hold in between his fingers.

"Bold of you to think that I actually care. You're not taking that child or anyone, Crane." 

His screams were unholy. He slammed his bony palm into the ground sending shockwaves towards man and child. With a click, the silver tip of his cross fired outwards like a bullet, a chain acting as a cable. It wrapped around the boy's leg and pulled him towards the cowled man as they crashed onto a nearby clearing. Jimmy's breath became erratic, and his tears ran down his already wet cheeks. His eyes glazed over as he could only mutter words in a language lost to modern ears. Batman groaned in pain as he carried Jimmy behind a nearby gravestone, hiding them from Crane's wrath.

"Damn it. C'mon kid. Wake up and snap out of it!" He shook the boy by the shoulders, quickly rummaging through one of the pouches on his belt for aid. He placed a paper talisman against the boy's forehead and pressed his thumb, causing the slip to glow and burn with a bright yellow light. Instantly, color returns to Jimmy's skin as he quickly exhales another round of bile. "Good. You're out of the trance. Jimmy, right?"

"W-What's going on?" asked Jimmy, fighting the words out in between sobs. The boy is hoisted up onto his feet, with Batman placing a charm in the boy's hands. 

"No time for questions. Listen to me, run to the gate and place the charm on the outside. Then say these in this order, never break it or stop. And whatever you do, don't look back!"

"B-But," Batman pulled him close, whispering the chant into his young ears before pushing away. With little to no hesitation, he leaped over the grave, chain whip in hand. 

"No buts. NOW GO!" Jimmy trembled as he cowered behind the headstone. The sounds of battle raging on behind him, Crane's screaming and roaring burrowing into his eardrums. Clutching the charm to his chest, he bolted forward, screaming with his full breath. 

"JIMMY! JIMMMMMYYYYYYY!!!!!! Don't YOU RUN FROM ME!!!"

Jimmy screamed louder to ignore the ghouls' cries. He felt the ground distort and change around him; each drop of rain felt like another weight being added onto him. His legs wobbled, and his breathing became raggedy.

"KEEP GOING!" Screamed Batman from the battlefield. Jimmy pushed forward, ignoring the pain in his body as he neared the gate. 

"Jimmy?" 

His body froze; still, his blood went cold as he trembled in place. A feminine voice wormed its way into his ears. It was kind, concerned, and all-around comforting. "Jimmy? What are you doing here? You're supposed to be home!"

"M-Mom. I-" his words clung to his throat; every synapse in his brain screamed at him to keep running, but his legs refused to move. 

"I work day and night! Slave over a hot stove to feed you! And here you are, doing god knows what! HERE! WHAT ABOUT YOUR BROTHER! GOD! WHY MUST YOU CONSTANTLY DISAPPOINT ME!!!" 

Her once kind voice fell apart at the arrival of a sinister and distorted cracked tone. Like nails on a chalkboard, she continued her ravings, getting ever closer to the boy. "I SHOULD'VE LEFT YOU ON THE STREET WHEN I HAD THE CHANCE! YOU' IRRITATING CANCER ON MY LIFE!!!"

Her rants continued, even more, causing Jimmy to fall to his knees in terror. He was done. This was all too much for one boy to go through. He-he should've just surrendered himself to Crane and saved himself and others the pain, but before he could turn around to accept his fate. One of Batman's daggers flew past him, nipping his cheek and snapping him out of the trance. In the reflection of the blade, he saw Batman lunging at the giant Scarecrow avoiding every attack. 

"KEEP GOING!" he yelled from the battlefield. Jimmy clenched his teeth, and despite every molecule in his body yelling at him. He ran forward, ignoring Crane's grip on his soul as he grabbed hold of the rusty gate and slammed the paper charm against it. With a deep breath, he screamed out the command given to him by Batman. 

"Through the murky waters and misty woods, I cast this spirit out of this infernal boon. I renounce your evil power and hold. I remove your binding from my soul! Jonathan Crane, I demand your soul leaves this place! I remove your brand and fear you NO MORE!!!!"

BRAKAKAKOOOM!!!!!!

A bright white light blinded Jimmy, its light burned his shirt, and he felt what felt like lightning strike every cell in his body. As he flew back from the explosion, the world fell apart around him into a bright orange void. He turned around, and all he saw was the burlap sack containing Crane's face burned away, and his natural face was revealed to his former victim. 

His hollow eyes released a waterfall of blood and tar, and his mouth released curses in a language, not even he could parse. The demon's face opened its maw and flew towards Jimmy, cackling as it attempted one last time to claim the boy's soul. 

"NOT TODAY!!" 

Before he could swallow the boy whole, Batman descended with his cross in hand, unleashing the bladed tip with the chain. He slammed his weapon in between Crane's eyes, cracking the skull apart and unleashing a bright and unholy white light. Jimmy screamed, only to be scooped up in Batman's arms as the two were engulfed in the explosion.

"Yo, Jimmy. You okay?"

Jimmy opened his eyes and screamed as he fell to the dirty floor. He scanned the area, finding himself surrounded by his former friend as they stood before the gate. The Batman was nowhere in sight and not a sign of Crane. The scratch on his cheek was no longer there nor the charm he'd used to defeat the demon. 

"I-I gotta go home." With little hesitation, Jimmy rode off home. A new sense of vigor in his veins as he left the cemetery. The remaining boy's began to ponder and eventually mock Jimmy's quickness. Still, they too fled in droves as they finally took notice of the large black and grey figure that loomed over them draped in a long black cape. His white eyes sent fear deep into their souls as they evacuated the area in haste. 

"Good. And stay out." He said. Batman Batman turned to the site of the paranormal he stood in moments earlier. He placed a small blue gem within the lock of the gate; within seconds, the gate crackled and resonated with an electric blue aura. It hummed before going silent, forever. Batman smirked and turned away, vanishing into the night to his next battle against the monsters in the night. 

-THE END-

[hello-im-not-a-possum]

" Leave! Me! Alone! " (for the prompt thing :3)

*Fully dusts off BATIM Monster AU due to it being the spooky month* You know, I don't think I've pinned down what type of monster Thomas was when I started this...

And I recently realized that I have a strong lack of vampires in this AU.

The GENT Mechanic wasn't a full-on monster hater. He had no interest in joining any monster-hunting group that sniffed him out, he often rolled his eyes at small-town preachers who looked down at them, and he mostly minded his own business when it came to the tricky relationship between humans and monsters.

But he also wasn't anywhere as enthusiastic about the studio as Joey and Allison were. He was a sensible man, he knew that monsters were dangerous and that it was stupid not to only trust them at an arm's length.

He could admit that he admired that his client could go as far as to start an entire animation empire just to ensure that his friend (and many others he had met along the way) would be in a place where they weren't seen as outcasts and wouldn't stop doing what they loved because of their circumstances, but he couldn't help but feel... wary of the majority of the studio's strange inhabitants.

Nobody would blame the human mechanic for avoiding the music department as often as he could, knowing the Music Director and how he viewed humans, it would be like blaming a mouse for avoiding a lion's den.

At the same time, he would get funny looks from others as he never went near the studio without a silver cross, an iron ring, a small bag of mixed herbs that was dubbed 'monster bane' due to it being a mix of various monster-repelling plants, and a bag of salt. Because of this, Thomas was not a popular person in the mostly-monster populated studio, but that didn't matter to him.

This wasn't his circus, it wasn't his monkeys, and once his contract ended, he'd probably never go there again. At least, that's what he would tell himself until the day wearing his cross started to burn himself.

--------

"It's a good thing that Allison found you in this state and threw your... wards away imminently." Dr. Hackenbush sighed as he continued to apply the numbing paste to his still twitching patient's neck. "Due to the secrecy surrounding vampire covens, their reluctance to talk about their various races' weaknesses as they're a monster hunter's favorite prey, and the many different types of vampires in the world, it's actually hard to determine what can and can't kill a recently turned vamp. Especially when one can't remember the circumstances of their change."

Tom was partly focusing on what the doctor was telling him, partly freaking himself out by trying and failing to remember how and why he had turned, and mostly keeping an eye out on the entrance to the infirmary as if he expected something to fly in and finish him off.

"Vampires in general might be notoriously hard to keep down for the count, but the process of the metamorphosis from human to vampire is extremely exhausting on the newly made fledgling." The doctor stated as he moved on to put more of the paste on Tom's other injured areas. "While this wouldn't be lethal to an older vamp, it's still extremely painful to them and considered to be torture among many of their races. In your current state and judging based off of the traits I've seen so far... ...I strongly suspect that the cross would've eventually burnt your head clean off your neck if you had not been found in time."

Thomas absentmindedly put his hand where his cross would normally be and gritted his teeth.

Nobody visited him yet, nobody aside from Allison even approached the door before the doctor shooed her out. He wasn't in the state to receive visitors yet, but he could already feel the parade of smug monsters gawking at him. He could already hear them laughing at the loss of his humanity, he could already picture several of them sticking their noses up at his misery declaring 'serves you right!' at him.

"...Could you open your mouth for me Mr. Conner?"

"Huh?" The mechanic snapped out of his day-nightmare and acknowledged the doctor's request. "Oh yeah, sure."

"Thank goodness, it seems that you've been brought in just at the cusp of changing..." While Tom didn't close his mouth on the doctor, he did look at him funny when he began to paint a different paste in his mouth, specifically, on his gums and teeth. The stuff made his mouth feel strongly like static in a matter of seconds. "Comment all you want, but you'd be thanking me if you knew exactly how much of a bitch it would hurt if you had to go through this without the strongest painkillers mankind could make."

"Well I ned mure af ha stuff if I turn inta a baht manstah?"

The mechanic half sarcastically asked through an extremely numb mouth as soon as the doctor was done putting the paste in there.

"No, unlike a werewolf who will transform based on the position of the moon, a vampire's ability to turn into a bat is normally rooted in the said vampire's willpower and or their mental and emotional state. It will not hurt unless you will it to. But turning into a bat and back again will use up a lot of energy and burn a ton of calories, so I don't recommend it as of right now. For similar reasons, I also wouldn't recommend swimming twenty miles and running a marathon back to back either."

The doctor did a once-over on his patient's treated injuries and checked his vitals before giving him his normal clothes back.

"Alright, it seems that everything's up to order..." The doctor proceeded to write down a list that he handed to Thomas. "Don't eat anything until after you can fully feel your mouth again, otherwise you might accidentally cut out your own tongue. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to either come to me about it or ask around the studio for either werewolf packs or vampire covens. The latter's rarer than the former but werewolves and vampires have been known to get along well due to the pair often engaging in a symbiotic relationship."

"I thawt tat Wahwoles an vamhires hated each other..?"

He was internally grateful that the staticky feeling of his mouth was subsiding just enough for him to be able to talk normally again.

"That's a common misconception that came from World War II I'm afraid; American soldiers who happen to be vampires hate Nazis who happen to be werewolves and vice versa."

Thomas frowned as he stopped to read the list, it was basically a bunch of common vampire dos and don'ts, mostly don'ts; avoid sunlight, religious symbols and texts, mirrors in public areas, etc. He ran his tongue against his top and bottom canine teeth and while his tongue still felt off from the medicine, he could tell that those teeth were longer and sharper.

He knew that with each passing second, he was becoming more and more like one of the studio's many monsters that he was wary of, and he felt gutted because of it.

"...Thanks for everything, doc. I... I'll go ask Joey for some time off to adjust to all of... this."

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

Instead of going to Joey, Tom had spent the rest of the day trying to carry on with his daily tasks and work as usual, fixing up the pipes, checking on the Ink machine, mostly just trying to bury the knowledge of his vampirism in work.

Thankfully he was unbothered by the studio's workers, so it mostly worked out fine for him. Until he got to his least favorite part of the studio to work in: The music department.

Part of him was tempted to just make Wally do this, but as a werewolf, Wally would sense that he wasn't wearing silver or wolf's bane anymore and would be curious as to why he wasn't wearing any. He didn't want to lie to him but he also didn't want the Janitor to find out about his ...condition, he wasn't ready for that yet. In fact, he didn't want anyone in the studio's wolf pack to find out about this. He had goosebumps on the outside and inside just thinking about how they'd react.

He knew that they wouldn't be smug about it like how he assumed other monsters would, even worse than that. They'd know that he didn't have a coven as he was only recently turned, so they'd probably welcome him into the pack with open arms, especially if he was one of those vampires that was able to turn into a wolf too. They'd freely and willingly accept them as one of their own, a monster.

He tried to shake those thoughts away and continue to work on pipes that had been bitten into by the godforsaken raven monster. He cursed about Sammy under his breath as he fixed them as usual. He could feel the music director's presence as he did so, but unlike how this normally went, he didn't sense any hostility or hunger coming from the looming shadow of the beast in human's clothing.

Thomas had his back turned away from the normally wrathful monster, he wasn't seeing what the man's expression was. He didn't know if the damned bird was proud of his lost humanity, looking at him like he was now worthy of being an underling of his, or if the musician simply pitied him for god knows why.

But the mere presence of the beast alone was driving him crazy.

"Leave! Me! ALONE!" The vampire mechanic spun around and half-shouted half-hissed at the confused looking music director. "I DON'T CARE WHAT YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT ME, BUT I DON'T NEED YOU TO LOOM OVER MY WORK AND RUB IN WITH YOUR PRESENCE THAT I'M A FUCKING UNDEAD, BLOOD-SUCKING, FANGED FREAK!"

Thomas wasn't sure which reaction he was excepting from the beast, but he felt a mixture of goosebumps and anger as the director stepped forward and looked at him with intrigue.

"...Do you mean a vampire?"

"Yes, of course I do." The mechanic rolled his eyes as he fought back the urge to fight the raven. "What gave it away?"

Sammy smiled at him, not in that hungry 'I want to eat you but know that I can't' kind of smile, but also not a smug 'haha! you're a monster too now!' way. Before today, Thomas wasn't sure that Sammy was physically capable of smiling like that and it both creeped him out and made him angrier about this situation.

"Nothing, you simply told me that yourself."

"...Then why were you starring at me like that?"

The Bird monster shrugged.

"I was just wondering why your presence didn't seem to harm anyone anymore." He stated as he turned to leave Tom to do his work. "I guess I know why now."

[elsanna-shenanigans]

August Contest Submission #11: Fleurs Anciennes

Words: ca. 5,000 Setting: Canon Lemon: lime CW: None

The sudden jolt from the train woke Elsa from her light doze. It no longer surprised her to suddenly wake from an unexpected nap, they happened often enough nowadays. Warm breath puffed against her neck. She looked down at Anna sleeping peacefully on her shoulder. Hair, having lost its bright red color to a snowy white years ago, tickled her nose and Elsa lifted a hand to caress her sister’s wrinkled cheek.

Tomorrow would be forty-five years together.

There were many things Elsa forgot over the years, the first time she used her powers, the sound of their parent’s voices, the names of the various princes who tried to court her. But she’d never forget Anna’s tearful confession that night in the library.

“I can’t do this anymore! I can’t keep pretending I only love you like a sister. I want to hold you, and kiss you, and take you to bed. If we could, I’d ask you to marry me and be by your side forever. I- I’m in love with you.”

Neither would she ever forget that first desperate, clumsy kiss, her response to Anna’s confession when words failed to move past her own lips. Now they were set to celebrate their anniversary at the Paris World’s Fair tomorrow. Yes, they would have to attend the opening celebration as Arendelle’s ceremonial ambassadors and stop by their country’s display but then the rest of the day, and the entire week afterwards, would belong to them.

Knock. Knock.

“Your Majesties, the train will be arriving in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Tabatha.” Despite them both abdicating the throne fifteen years ago after Arendelle officially became a democracy, most citizens of Arendelle persisted in addressing them by their former royal title. 

“Annaaaa…” Gentle shaking of her sister’s knee. “It’s time to get up.”

“Five more minutes…” faint snores

It didn’t matter if Anna was five or sixty-five, waking her up tended to be a long, slow process. 

“Anna, we’re almost there.” Shake shake. “Time to wake up.” Shake.

“Ugh. Do I have to?” Anna sat up and tiredly rubbed her eyes.

“Yes, my love.” Years ago Elsa stopped trying to figure out how her sister’s hair could stand up on its own. “Turn your back towards me and I’ll fix your hair.”

“Hmmm, thank you.” 

Soft lips brushed against hers in a sleepy kiss. Before Anna could pull back, Elsa stopped her with a tender touch to her cheek and deepened the kiss.

“Oh,” wide, no longer sleepy, smile, “I’m awake now.”

“Good. Now turn around.”

“Right.” Anna stole one more quick kiss then she turned to face the window. 

Nimble fingers picked apart the untidy bun and smoothed down the wild locks.  Elsa fastened the last pin in Anna’s hair when the train began to slow its speed.

Paris. 

Though not their first time in the famous French city, they still eagerly watched people and carriages drift by on crowded streets. 

Elsa’s gaze moved from the window to watch the love of her life instead.

Teal eyes moved from the window and met hers. 

“What?”

“Oh, nothing,” Elsa shrugged casually, “just enjoying the view.”

Eyes rolled but she didn’t miss the light dusting of pink on wrinkled cheeks.

Squealing brakes grew louder, signaling their final approach into the station. Shouts in French announcing, Elsa assumed since she didn’t speak the language, for all passengers to disembark for Paris could barely be heard over the hissing release of steam.

Knock. Knock.

“Come in.” 

Tabatha opened the compartment’s door, curtsied respectfully, then efficiently began gathering their personal belongings.

“Kaarina and Polk are going to the luggage car.”

“I can help with the bags, Tabatha.” 

“Please take your time; I will wait for you on the platform.” Another curtsy, and Tabatha, easily carrying three bags including her own, exited into the corridor. 

“Or not,” Anna grumbled.

Chuckling, Elsa rubbed her sister’s back comfortingly. Not once since Tabatha took over after Gerda’s retirement did she let either of them help with even the simple tasks. Absolute horror would be the only way she could describe the look on her face the first time they offered to help. She looked about ready to burst into tears when Gerda picked up their breakfast plates and declared Tabatha should ignore them. She followed that advice ever since.

They helped each other don their respective shawls; dark blue with Arendelle’s coat of arms stitched in silver thread for Elsa and the same for Anna but in dark green. 

Elsa’s eyes flicked to the compartment’s window and sighed unhappily.

This is why she preferred not to travel outside of Arendelle. Back home she could openly show affection for her sister and no one batted an eye at quick little pecks on the lips. Their relationship was an unacknowledged open secret. 

Anna passed over Elsa’s ice cane and they carefully made their way off the train. On the bustling platform they were greeted by a tall man in a perfectly tailored gray suit.

“His name is Radford, he welcomes us to Paris, and will escort us to the hotel,” Anna whispered in her ear.

The only foreign language Elsa could manage with ease was English while Anna had an ear for them and could freely converse in six different languages. An immensely helpful skill over the years when they traveled outside of Arendelle.

Once Kaarina and Polk arrived, both carrying a trunk, the small party followed Radford out of the station, over the wooden footbridge leading directly to the front steps of the Grand Hotel Terminus, and to the door of their suite on the top floor.

Anna smiled as she spoke with Radford.

Still unable to understand a word being said, Elsa’s gaze wandered to the lavishly decorated hallway lit by the new electric lights. She sighed enviously. Equipping the castle with these amazing electric lights would have to be a task for the next generation in charge of the castle. She’d looked into it already; cost and logistics made it impossible at this time. 

“Oui, Madam.” Radford handed Tabatha their room key.

Elsa’s attention returned to the tall man talking with her sister.

“Passe un bon séjour s'il te plaît.” He bowed deeply then walked briskly back to the elevator.

“He said for us to enjoy our stay.” 

Tabatha unlocked the door and held it open for them to enter.

There were advantages to being known as the old, eccentric, spinster sisters. No one questioned them insisting on only having their own servants take care of things. Pretending to sleep in different beds, keeping a respectful distance, curbing the affectionate little touches, anything that an unknown, foreign servant might find odd didn’t matter. 

Kaarina, Polk, and Tabatha walked right into the larger bedroom to deposit the luggage.

“I asked for dinner to be brought up to our room in thirty minutes. Unless you wanted to go out?” 

“No.” Now in the privacy of their room, Elsa leaned her cane against a nearby wingback chair and wrapped her arms around Anna’s neck. Three weeks of foreign guests and preparations for this trip had left them with horribly little alone time together. She had no intention of squandering this time with eating out.

“Good.” Anna’s arms wrapped around Elsa’s waist and pulled her close. “An evening alone with you sounds wonderful.”

Lips brushed against hers.

“Absolutely wonderful.” The whispered words were barely audible.

“Ahem.”

Elsa turned her head to smile at Kaarina and Polk. Years of having servants walk in on them kissing ceased to cause embarrassment anymore.

“Tabatha is unpacking your trunks, Your Majesties.”

“Thank you. Enjoy your stay with your cousin…” Elsa searched her memory, “Marie, was it?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Kaarina grinned widely. “It’s been five years since we’ve seen her and the kids.”

“Have a pleasant visit. We will see you on the fourteenth.” 

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” Both bowed then hastily exited from the room.

“I guess they were eager to start their holiday,” Elsa chuckled. 

“Mmmm…” Anna placed a lingering kiss on Elsa’s neck. “They aren’t the only ones.”

“Tabatha is still here.” Her cheeks warmed. Quick, little licks were added to the kisses landing on her neck. Elsa’s knees wobbled.

“There’s a spare bedroom.”

Forty-five years together and Anna was still temptation on two legs.

“N-no.” Elsa stepped back out of her sister’s arms. They were dirty from traveling all day, they didn’t have dinner yet, they were not alone… and there was an unoccupied spare bedroom.

Distraction.

They both needed a distraction.

Eyes flicked around the room. The balcony was out, the evening was still fairly chilly and she did not want to chance Anna getting ill. The dining area was also out, while beautiful with its intricately carved table and chairs, no distractions could be seen. The spare bedroom was absolutely off limits. The seating area… 

She had never been so grateful to see a tiny stack of letters before.

“We have correspondence to answer.”

“Of course we do.” Anna handed Elsa her cane and they walked over to the ornate desk. “Do we need to accept any of these?”

“No.” She quickly looked through them before handing them over. Luckily, there were only four letters. Unluckily, they were certainly all in a different language, meaning Anna would have to answer them herself. 

“Do I need to add anything special?” In the drawer Anna found a letter opener and began breaking the seals.

“No, just the standard declining of the invitation.” 

With nothing to do while Anna wrote, Elsa wondered about the room. Electric lights glowed bright as the sun began to set. Again, she wished it were possible to equip Arendelle Castle with such technology. There was even a telephone to communicate directly with the service staff. A truly marvelous new hotel.

On the dining room table she spotted her book. Tabatha must have set it there earlier.

Elsa retrieved it and settled onto the comfortable Chesterfield, eager to read more of the new character detective Sherlock Holmes and his friend Dr. Watson.

Fully immersed in the story, the knock on the door with their dinner nearly caused Elsa to drop her book.

“Careful there, don’t want to lose your place.”

“Anna!” This time she did drop her book. Elsa turned to see her sister sitting beside her. “How long have you been there?”

“About ten minutes, I guess,” she chuckled and picked up Elsa’s book. “This must be good. I’ll have to read this after you.”

“Your Majesties, dinner is served.”

“Thank you, Tabatha.” Anna handed over the ice cane and escorted Elsa, still a bit dazed from being startled from her book so suddenly, to the table.

They sat down to two plates of steamed salmon, rice, and mushrooms. Conversation flowed easily from one topic to another; the opening ceremony for the World’s Fair tomorrow (“Ugh. I don’t want to get up that early. Can we skip it?”), things they were missing in Arendelle (“Kristoff was so excited. He and Bonnie get the grandkids for two weeks!”), books they had read (“That Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde book was creepy.”), what they would like to do during their week in Paris (“Could we go to the Louvre? We missed it last time.”), and even who to extend invitations to Arendelle next (“Ariel and Eric or Belle and Adam?”).

“I have drawn your bath. Is there anything you require of me before I bid you goodnight?” Tabatha folded her hands primly in front of her, ready to fulfill any request they might have.

“No, that will be all for the night.” Elsa smiled, eager to soak in the hot water. 

“Very well. Pleasant dreams, Your Majesties.” She gathered the empty plates to drop off on the way to her own room.

“Sweet dreams! Feel free to sleep in tomorrow.” Anna grinned hopefully.

Elsa rolled her eyes.

“Goodnight, Tabatha. We’ll see you early tomorrow morning.”

“What do you two have against sleep?” They both ignored Anna’s muttering though Elsa caught a slight quirk of the servant’s lips.

Tabatha bobbed a curtsy and silently left the room.

“Now,” Elsa grabbed her cane and began walking to the bathroom, “you can continue grumbling or you can join me for a bath.”

“Bath.” Footsteps hurried after her. “Definitely the bath.”

* * * * * 

Elsa concentrated on keeping her balance without the aid of a cane while she dried her hair. She hummed contentedly at finally feeling clean for the first time since they left Arendelle. Getting to lay in Anna’s arms for the last fifteen minutes while the water cooled had been exactly what she needed. Travel never allowed them much privacy and they’d been traveling for four days. 

Carefully, she stepped over to the counter with her cane. Elsa stopped halfway there. A full length mirror, fogged only along its edges with condensation, reflected her image back at her. Back in Arendelle, the candlelight did not shine nearly as brightly as these electric lights and every aging imperfection was perfectly illuminated in this light. Her once slim, hourglass figure now carried a bit more weight about her stomach and thighs, her breasts sagged and she now required undergarments for her clothes to fit correctly, and wrinkles were no longer confined to her face, they now covered her whole body.

She frowned.

Arms wrapped around Elsa from behind.

“Hey there, beautiful.”

“I don’t know about-“

“Ah ah ah.” Anna’s hand covered Elsa’s mouth, stopping her words. “What have I said? I will not tolerate anyone speaking badly about the woman I love even…” she removed her hand.

Elsa sighed.

“Ahem,” Anna raised an eyebrow.

“…even if that’s me.” Warmth spread at the sincerity of Anna’s smile.

“That’s right.” She placed a kiss on Elsa’s bare shoulder.

Turning around in Anna’s arms, Elsa leaned in and kissed her, taking time to slowly deepen it. Every single day this wonderful woman showed her how incredibly loved she was. 

“You know…” Elsa brushed her lips along a very familiar jaw. “We’re finally alone. No foreign visitors, no servants, no responsibilities until tomorrow…”

“Hmmm…” Eyes closed.

“The bed looked quite comfortable.”

“It is time for bed.” Anna’s hands rested decidedly lower than Elsa’s waist.

Arms resting on Anna’s shoulders, Elsa pressed her firmly backwards out of the bathroom. They could get her cane later.

Much later.

* * * * *

Elsa concentrated on Anna’s whispered translation of the opening ceremony of the World’s Fair and not the engineering marvel of the Eiffel Tower towering over them. These speeches all followed the same script welcoming the politicians who supported the event, thanking the major donors by name, claiming this to be the event of the century, and all punctuated with long pauses for expected clapping. They both sat through too many of these sorts of ceremonies in their life.

Finally the last speaker invited the crowd to enjoy the World’s Fair and bowed to thunderous applause.

People around them wasted no time in standing to find their friends and not going through the entrance, this crowd didn’t seem particularly eager to join the masses of regular citizens streaming into the event.

Once the initial rush died down, they wove their way around chairs and groups of boisterous people.

“Queen Elsa! Queen Anna!” called a deep voice in English.

Two heads turned as one to see a clean shaven, silver-haired gentleman with golden spectacles hurry their way.

“Richard!” Anna hugged the man the instant he reached them.

“It is wonderful to see you ladies here.” Richard hugged Elsa next, his laughter carrying over the din of conversation.

“I didn’t expect to see you.” Why had England’s longtime Ambassador to Arendelle shown up here? Elsa knew nearly all of Europe’s monarchies refused to participate in this World’s Fair celebration of the French Revolution.

“Don’t tell Queen Victoria,” he whispered mischievously. “Mildred wanted to hear Thomas Edison’s new phonograph.”

“Where is that lovely wife of yours?” Anna looked quite serious, “someone has to keep an eye on you.”

“Oh, I completely agree, Your Majesty.” 

“Mildred!” Anna turned to face her best friend.

“Hello, Anna.” They hugged tightly, delighted smiles on both their faces. “How was your trip over?”

“Not too bad!” With that the two excitedly began chatting about their trips.

“You would think our wives hadn’t seen each other in months and not two weeks,” Richard whispered in Elsa’s ear.

Both shared an amused look.

Elsa watched the two best friends quickly catch up, old memories surfacing. Decades ago, Richard introduced the younger woman from town he had begun courting and the two women connected immediately. After that, Elsa no longer felt guilty the few times she and Richard needed to discuss matters of state over dinner. Anna and Mildred could, and still did, enjoy each other’s company for hours.

“Do you think they remember we’re here?” Elsa whispered back.

“Absolutely not.”

They laughed at the old shared joke.

“I think they’re laughing at us, Anna.”

“Yup. They certainly are.” 

“We would never laugh at you.” Elsa tried her best to keep the smile off her face. 

“Uh huh.” Anna rolled her eyes and turned her focus to Richard. “How long will you be in France?”

“Two weeks, then we return to Arendelle.”

“We’re here for a week. Maybe we can meet up for dinner one night?” Anna asked hopefully.

“I don’t think we have anything planned for Thursday, if you’re free.” Mildred stood at her husband’s side and slipped an arm through his.

“We are free.” Dinners with their closest friends were always a pleasure. “We can meet- OH!”

Something hit her side hard causing Elsa to drop her cane as she fell sideways.  She closed her eyes preparing for the painful impact of hard ground.

It never came.

Relief flooded Elsa when two familiar arms caught her.

“Are you alright?” 

Elsa could only nod, her heart racing from the scare.

“Good. Good.” The shaky sigh of relief told Elsa that the near-fall scared her sister, too.

Once upright, Elsa turned to see what knocked into her. On the ground lay a laughing young man reeking of wine.

“Pardon, pardon!” More laughter.

Barely nine in the morning and this stranger was already falling down drunk. Elsa held onto Anna’s arm tightly, her sister looking ready to kick the drunk man while he was still on the ground.

“Pardon!” He still giggled as he reached for the dropped cane.

“It’s okay, I can-”

“Don’t touch-“

“I wouldn’t do-“

Three voices tried to stop the man before he touched it, though Anna remained silent, her glare intense.

“Glacé!” He dropped it immediately and shook his hand. “Glacé!”

“No, no.” Richard helped the drunk man up. “Amis?”

“Quel?”

“Amis.”

“Oh.” The young man gestured vaguely behind him.

“We will take him back to his friends. Which hotel are you staying at?” Mildred asked after positioning herself at the man’s other side. It obviously would take both of them to get him anywhere.

“The Grand Hotel Terminus.” Elsa spoke up as Anna remained silent and glaring.

“We’ll meet you there before going to dinner. Does five o’clock sound fine?”

“Perfect. We will see you at five. Enjoy the World’s Fair.”

Once the three started walking over to a group of laughing and pointing people, Anna leaned down to pick up the ice cane muttering something that suspiciously sounded like ‘I should have accidentally stepped on him,’ which Elsa chose to ignore. Anna’s protectiveness, which started prior to their relationship, had not waned over the years and, honestly, neither had her own. She probably would have discreetly frozen his feet to the ground and iced his undergarments had it been Anna he knocked down.

“Here.” Anna handed her the cane.

“Thank you, my love.”

Anna smiled at the term of endearment. 

Now that her sister no longer looked ready to find that young man and punch him, Elsa hooked their arms together and directed their steps to where Arendelle’s pavilion lay. She would have loved to stay and take in the Eiffel Tower but there were other days for that, distracting Anna was more important and they would have to walk right through the, reportedly, stunning garden exhibits. The gardens back home were Anna’s favorite place to be, to the point where, decades ago, the gardeners cleared an area just for her use. 

“Don’t you want to-“

“Tomorrow.” She kept moving them forward. “We should start making our way over.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Mmhmm.”

They were only six meters into the garden area when Anna’s eyes widened and her head started swiveling back and forth trying to take everything in. 

Even Elsa, with only a casual enjoyment of gardens, could see how breathtaking these displays were. Flowers exploded with color everywhere, tall green bushes hid the rest of the World’s Fair from view, beautifully carved fountains bubbled noisily, and butterflies could be seen fluttering from plant to plant. They strolled slowly through this second Garden of Eden without saying a word.

About halfway through the exhibit, she saw a stall down a side path and immediately decided that she needed to distract Anna so she could sneak back.

It seemed luck was on her side today. 

One of the many roaming gardeners paused to prune a yellow rose bush. 

“Anna, do you mind if we stop for a few minutes? There’s an empty bench here and I’m a little tired.”

“Of course,” her sister frowned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes,” she couldn’t help chuckling before continuing, “someone kept me up late last night.”

“That was your own fault,” Anna purred in her ear and placed a soft kiss on her cheek.

Elsa could feel her face warm up in a blush and she swallowed thickly.

“Y-y-yes. R-right.” All those years together and Anna could still fluster her with just a few words.

“Let’s get to that bench before anyone else, you seducer of younger women.” 

Completely speechless and face burning with heat, Elsa silently walked with Anna to the bench.

“Wait. I’m the only one who needs to rest,” the croaky sound of her voice betrayed her continued flustered state. “Why don’t you go look at the displays?”

“Are you sure?” Anna looked torn between staying with her and examining the garden displays.

“I’ll be fine. I just need a little rest.” She sat down and patted Anna’s side. “Go. Have fun.”

“Okay.” 

Elsa watched and waited.

Once her sister found herself no longer confined to the castle, her cheerful personality and eagerness to try new things helped her quickly learn the social skills they lacked after thirteen years of isolation. People naturally felt at ease around her and Anna enjoyed getting to know new people. There had been many times while Queen that Elsa used this to ease prickly meetings. They would both enter a room and before a word could be said, Kai would interrupt with a made up emergency that required Elsa’s urgent attention. By the time she returned ten minutes later, without fail, there would be smiles all around the room and the meeting would actually be productive.

It would only take Anna a few minutes to work her magic on the gardener then she’d be free to sneak away unnoticed.

Once the gardener nodded rapidly and started pointing at plants, Elsa stood and walked the two dozen steps to the side pathway spotted earlier. Another few dozen steps and Elsa reached the large wooden stall. The rich scent of chocolate filled the air and she pored over each of the five different assortment of chocolate boxes displayed. One glance at the chocolates in the purple box was all she needed. 

Box purchased and tucked in the small cloth bag at her wrist, which now held a discrete enchantment to keep it cool, Elsa hurried back to the bench. She needn’t have rushed. Anna and the gardener were still deep in conversation, oblivious to their surroundings. After five more minutes, and hating to break them up, she stood and called her sister over.

“Yes, Elsa?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt, however, we should be going.”

“That’s alright.” Anna linked their arms together and they resumed their walk.

“It looked like a good conversation?” If the last five minutes she saw were any indication it was.

“Yup! Gustav is a third generation gardener and came all the way from Bourges to be part of this. He was telling me…” Anna began excitedly sharing her conversation with Gustav.

Anna talked about all she learned and how that might work in her own garden while they walked. Even though she probably only understood about fifty percent of the information, Elsa still contentedly listened and asked questions.

After twenty minutes their destination came into view.

“Oh, wow.”

Elsa could only nod in agreement.

Being a small, relatively unknown nation, Arendelle had been placed behind the other well known countries. The wooden structure before them was larger than most of the buildings back home. Expertly made carvings of the native animals decorated the four doorways, the traditional design found on most buildings of crocuses, straight lines, and chevrons painted in blues and purples decorated the whitewashed walls, and teal tiles sat on the roof instead of the more common brown. Multiple tiered sections of roof with pointed spires and the small balcony over the door on which a banner of Arendelle’s time-honored crest hung, gave Elsa the impression of her Ice Palace meshed with traditional Arendelle buildings. 

What took their breath away were the hundreds, if not thousands, of crocuses surrounding the building on all sides. They weren’t the common royal purple found everywhere, but the color of snow. They were so rare in Arendelle that local legend said they only grew outside of town, atop a specific hill, under an ancient tree because that was where two sisters promised each other a lifetime’s fidelity. The area could now be found on local maps as ‘The Queen’s Joy.’ Little did the town’s people know that every year Elsa and Anna would go to that hill and plant seeds harvested from those same flowers.

Tears pricked Elsa’s eyes.

“Queen Elsa! Queen Anna! You made it!” An older woman with gray hair hustled down the steps over to them.

“This is beautiful, Helga.” Elsa’s voice softened. “Thank you.”

“You both are so much a part of Arendelle and we wanted to show that.” Helga grinned, obviously happy at their awed reactions. 

“I knew the committee chose the right person!” Hugs all around as they praised the Master Carpenter even more, causing her to blush.

“Thank you both for recommending me. But I do have one favor to ask of you, Queen Elsa.” Helga looked hopefully over.

“If I can grant it, I will.” She wondered what it could be.

“In the initial plans, we included elements that were to mimic your ice designs. None of the prototypes worked so we scrapped it. Do you think… maybe…” 

Back when Elsa realized more and more people not from Arendelle believed the stories of her powers were just myths, she stopped using them outside of Arendelle lest they put a target on her, and thus her home, by some power-hungry nation.

Elsa looked around. 

There were no visitors this far back yet. Most of the crowd had headed to The Gallery of Machines and the few walking to the pavilions certainly were visiting the massive, beautiful building Argentina built. 

“Did you have something in mind?” Ideas sprung up immediately and she tried to ignore them.

“I’ll leave that to you, Your Majesty. I do have one small request though.” Helga nervously shifted from foot to foot.

“Yes?”

“Could you put your snowflake on the middle spire in front?”

“I can do that.”

“Wonderful!” Wide waving of Helga’s right arm caught her eye.

People streamed past until all thirty or so workers stood behind them.

“I suppose everyone is here now?” Apparently the movements Elsa had assumed to be work being done was actually them waiting for Helga’s signal. She heard Anna snicker beside her.

“Ahem, yes.” 

“Is the area still clear?” Elsa asked loudly. Too many people surrounded her to see for herself.

Once the hum of multiple ‘yes’ responses died down, Elsa handed Anna her bag and cane.

Hands moved in a tight circle and her magic, as strong as ever, danced around her fingertips. The image of what Elsa wished for the magic to do set, she pushed her hands out sending it barreling to the building’s middle spire, she floated one hand down and the other up, coaxing the ice into shape.

Ice swirled up each of the fifteen spires, the tallest one proudly displaying Elsa’s snowflake, teal roof tiles sparkled with flecks of ice, enough to glitter in the sunlight though not enough to be dangerous should any repairs be needed. From the top of the walls down until around ten feet above the ground, flat clear ice shaped as snowflakes glinted in the sun.  Now the white crocuses thickly covering the ground looked more like snow than living plants. 

Satisfied with how her added decorations looked, Elsa twirled her hands once more.

“The ice should only melt when you begin taking down the pavilion.”

Silence. 

More silence.

Too much silence.

Elsa began to worry.

Cheers suddenly shattered the silence.

Helga waited a full minute before shouting over the noise.

“Okay everyone, back to work!”

“Oh wow, that was amazing!”

“It’s been years since I’ve seen Queen Elsa use her powers.”

“I can’t wait to write to my husband back home about this.”

“Have you ever seen anything so beautiful?”

“That made this whole job worth it.”

“Thank you so much, Queen Elsa. This is perfect. Though I’m sorry, I have to get back. A display board fell just before you arrived.”

“Forgive us for interrupting your work.” Anna apologized and handed Elsa back her cane and her bag.

“No need to, Your Majesties. It is always a pleasure. Besides,” she glanced back to the building, “they’re smiling now instead of looking nervous. Thank you.” Helga bobbed a curtsy and hurried back.

“I see a bench. Would you like to sit down? It was kind of a long walk.”

“Yes, I’d like that.” Despite their leisurely pace over, it had been a long walk and their commitments as Arendelle’s ceremonial ambassadors were now complete; they had nowhere else to be and a real rest sounded sublime.

“Your bag felt heavier than from this morning.” Anna commented once they sat on the bench nearby. “Please tell me you snuck in your book. I can’t wait for my turn.”

Elsa had planned to give her sister the box back in their room but here would be nice too. She pulled the cool box out of her bag and turned to face Anna.

“Are those for me?” She looked hopeful, no doubt catching a whiff of chocolate.

“Of course.” Handing the box over, Elsa could not help smiling at Anna’s excitement when opening it. Some things never changed.

“Flowers.”

Indeed they were. Twelve rose shaped, red tinted, chocolates lay on a bed of shredded paper.

Taking a quick look around and still only seeing people from Arendelle, Elsa leaned in and kissed Anna’s soft lips. Fingers tenderly caressed the back of her neck.

Every year Elsa would, without fail, give Anna flowers on their anniversary. One year an orchid lovingly cared for in a greenhouse, another year jewelry straight away deemed too special to be worn everyday, even a book of collected poetry which lived on her bedside table for the past twenty-three years… each flower-themed gift cherished beyond measure.

They reluctantly pulled apart, remembering they were outside, and snuggled comfortably together. 

There would be time for more later.

[pankows-girl]

What Happens When Pogues Mack Ch.2

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Pregnant!Reader

Word Count: 1.2K

Warnings: mentions of abuse, cursing i think??

A/N: i did some research while writing this chapter but i don’t know how accurate what i wrote is. theres probably some types but im too lazy to correct them. also quick shout out to my lovely friends for their support of this series @outabanks @spilledtee @redridinnghood​

[Ch.1] [Ch.2] [Ch.3]

The following weeks of your pregnancy announcement were kind of tough on you and JJ. Word had got out that you were seen at the shop buying a pregnancy test and soon what seemed like the whole island knew you were pregnant. Everywhere you went, people gave you judgemental looks, especially the kooks. You tried your best to ignore their lingering stares but it was starting to bug you and even though you tried not to let JJ see it, he realized and it made him feel terrible.

He had done his best to make you feel better but he was struggling himself. His dad found out what happened, forcing JJ to come clean to him and then beating him senseless for his stupidity, calling him useless and a waste of space. He tried to fight back but he never even stood a chance. JJ was left bruised and limping for a week as you nursed him back to health in the safety of your home. 

 As far as you were concerned JJ should just move in with you so he can be close by when the baby comes. You even brought the idea up with your mother and she actually agreed, knowing how bad JJ’s home life was like. You were honestly surprised but didn’t want to question her in case she changed her mind. You gave her a big hug and she smiled at you. She just wanted the best for the two of you.

You planned to talk to JJ about it later on in the day when he came over. Your mother helped you schedule an appointment with an obstetrician and she was going to take you and JJ to it. You were going to take a nap until JJ arrived but a knock on your door distracted you.

“It’s open!” You called from your bed.

The pogues burst into your room a second later, scaring the shit out of you. 

“What the fuck?” You yelled, laughing a little with your hand over your heart. You were expecting your mom or your little sister but the sight of your friends made you smile. “What are you guys doing here?”

The four of them came to sit next to you, John B and Kie opting to sit on one of your bean bag chairs as your bed was too small to support the lot of you and lacked space. JJ took a seat next to you, pulling you into his lap and holding you close to his chest as Pope stole the spot you were sitting in before.

“We just wanted to see how you were doing,” John B said. “You haven't been around much and we miss you. JJ has been hogging you for far too long.” Kie nodded in agreement.

“I miss you guys, too,” You smiled, face contorting as JJ began to leave small kisses down your neck.

“Oh no, you don’t,” Pope laughed, shoving JJ back. “You guys are already having a baby, you don’t need to make another one in front of us.”

You all laughed and JJ flipped Pope off, a shit eating grin on his face. “You’re just jealous I’m actually getting some,” He told the Pope who rolled his eyes in response and your face grew hot at his words.

—-

“Are you nervous?” Your mom asked as you, JJ, and her followed the nurse down the hall. It was long and narrow, multiple rooms on each side and the linoleum floor squeaked as your feet shuffled along.

“I’m more excited than nervous, honestly,” You answered. JJ smiled at you, taking your hand. He was excited too. He still couldn’t believe that in just a few short months you and him would be parents.

“In here,” The nurse said, leading you into one of the many rooms. “The OB/GYN will be here in just a moment. Why don’t you get comfortable.” The nurse helped you settle into the recliner chair. The paper cover wrinkled as you climbed on, laying back. JJ and your mother occupied the chairs next to the bed as you all waited patiently.

A moment later there was a knock on the door and you all sat up straight as the doctor entered the room with a kind smile on her face.

“You must be Y/N,” She said reaching her hand out to yours and shaking it. “Nice to meet you. I’m Dr. Willson.” 

After introducing herself to your mother and JJ, Dr. Willson got to work preparing you for the ultrasound. She rubbed some sort of sterilizers on your stomach to clean it and grabbed some gel.

“This might be a little cold,” She warned before squeezing the tube of gel onto your stomach. You shuddered at the feeling, reaching out for JJ’s hand and grasping it tightly.

Dr. Willson began moving the sonographer over your belly, spreading the gel out evenly. She pointed at the monitor, “This area right here is your baby. Right now it’s about the same as a raspberry.”

Your mouth gaped open in astonishment, unable to believe that your baby was so small and that you actually had a child growing inside of you. JJ’s reaction was the same as yours. He looked shocked but so proud at the same time and it made your heart swell with love for the blond boy. You heard your mother sniffle and looked over at her in surprise.

“What’s wrong?” You said as you saw her start to cry.

She waved you off, “Nothing, nothing. I just can’t believe my little girl is going to be a mother. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, mom.” 

----

It had been a little over a month since your first appointment with Dr. Willson and your baby bump was starting to show. JJ was obsessed with it, always touching it every chance he got and giving it little kisses. You would stroke his hair as he did so and more often than not your mom would find the two of you asleep in that position.

You also finally asked JJ to move in with you and he said yes. You sort of expected him to fight you on it but you also knew that things were getting worse with his dad back at home so moving in with you was just the escape he needed. He didn’t even bother telling his dad because it's not like he would notice considering all he seemed to care about was his alcohol. JJ vowed to never let your baby grow up like he did and would make sure to always protect your guy’s child.

Today was no different than any other day. You and JJ were cuddling in your bed after a long day, your eyes closed in content as he gently rubbed your belly. Neither of you could wait until you were far along enough to feel the baby kick.

“How’s my little plum?” JJ whispers against your stomach.

“Your what?” You said, peaking your eyes open with a giggle. JJ flashed you a toothy grin, his eyes shining brightly.

“I looked up what size the baby is at 12 weeks. Right now she is the size of a plum.”

“She?” You questioned raising a brow. “What if it's a boy?.”

“It’s definitely a girl,” JJ said smugly. “I have a feeling. Call it a sixth sense or whatever but I’m certain. I bet my whole share of the gold on it.”

“My money is on a boy.”

“We’ll see, pretty girl,” JJ said, leaning up and pecking your lips. “Now let's get some sleep.”

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[re-diesirae]

PART II PROLOGUE

"As wave is driven by wave

And each, pursued, pursues the wave ahead,

So time flies on and follows, flies, and follows,

Always, for ever and new. What was before

Is left behind; what never was is now;

And every passing moment is renewed."

― Ovid, Metamorphoses

A voice echoed through the white painted corridors soothed by the soft sound of a music box.

A place filled by solitude; the cries of desperation, fear, and the agony of loss.

Her hand caressed the cold surface of the music box, the small ballerina in it spinning at the melody, she once knew, until it came to a stop.

She heard the keys; she heard the whispers; she heard the mutters...

When the door opened ...

Her pain began.

1. Jill

November 5th, 2016. 8: 00 A.M.

The blond woman passed the security stand, smiling at the friendly guard who had received her. After the kidnapping incident, TerraSave had become warier about their security. Entering the building became a tedious procedure, but she was a regular visitor, and her BSAA badge helped a lot.

It had been eight months since the incident in Germany and Claire's death. Her loss had been a big hit, not only TerraSave but to BSAA, too. That without counting the emotional turmoil that the news had caused. She knew, from Chris, that his sister was always good at leaving marks on people. She hadn't had the chance to get to know the girl well since their schedules were busy all the time, but the people who did know her seemed deeply affected. Chris entered a state of depression that was even worse than the episode he'd suffered in Edonia, but in this case, he had not drowned himself in alcohol. She guessed that he did it in his sister's memory. The girl had hated his drinking habits, after all. The Burton family had seemed affected, as well. Barry had made silent mourning, but his daughter had cried a lot, and even half a year after, some things could still trigger her tears. Then there was Leon, he too, was a silent mourner, but Jill was good at reading people, and she could tell that, after Chris, he was the most affected one. Even the workers in TerraSave are still mourning. They had not chosen a new head to replace Claire, and so BSAA had been handling things until they decided for someone to take over.

Jill pressed the button in the elevator and waited. Her frequent visits were usually to check on things in the place, but today it was different. She had received an urgent call from their chief, summoning an emergency meeting. He gave her no details, but the message said that she had to report to TerraSave HQ immediately. When the door of the elevator opened, she found the familiar figure of Chris standing in front of a wall. He was watching it with a pained expression, and Jill felt her heart shrink.

It was the memorial wall. At least that was how everyone in TerraSave called it. The wall had been Claire's idea, from what she'd heard. She recalled the voice of Dr. Hiwamura as she had explained to her some months ago, on her first check visit.

"Claire thought it was just a good way to honor the fallen. Most of these people died without leaving a body behind, and most have no graveyards or family to mourn them properly. She said real heroes are not always remembered, and that at least we should give them the honor they deserved as a big family. "

The Memorial Wall was something simple. It was a wall filled with pictures of TerraSave agents who had died in action, and there was a table where people could leave flowers or other gifts. The most recent photo, of course, was Claire's. She saw the pretty portrait set on the table, and she noticed that, unlike the rest, her picture was not placed on the wall.

"Claire was always good at fooling us with her deaths. Some of us still find it hard to accept it was real this time, so no one has had the heart to hang it. Hanging it would somehow mean she is gone while having it there is like she'd come to the office one morning and shout at us for slacking off. You may think it's stupid, but people should reach acceptance, slowly."

Jill could understand, though; she put her hand on Chris's shoulder and looked at the pretty picture on the table. Someone had placed a small bouquet of orchids next to the photo.

"You got her flowers today?" she asked, surprised.

Chris shook his head.

"No, it wasn't me. I guess one of her subordinates left it here this morning. A close friend, probably. Orchids were her favorite, but not many knew that." Chris replied softly.

Jill squeezed the man's shoulder comfortingly.

"What are you doing here? Came to see her?" she asked.

"No, not today," Chris said, putting his hands in his pockets, "I got a call from Adams, something about an urgent meeting. I just thought of passing since I was here."

"You, too, huh? I wonder what this is about…"

The pair walked to the meeting room and knocked. A voice, that they recognized as their chief's, told them to come in, and they pushed the door open. Jill was surprised to see that not only they had not been the only ones called to the meeting. Beside their Chief, Edward Adams, there was TerraSave CEO, Ian Wentworth; the new Security secretary of the U.S, Renard Hopkins; Dr. Hiwamura, Barry, and Leon, too.

"Ah good, Valentine and Redfield. We were expecting you. Please take a seat, would you?" Adams said, signaling the two empty seats at his left.

Jill and Chris sat down, exchanging quizzical looks with the rest of the present. None of them seemed to have any idea about the reasons for the meeting.

"I believe most of you are thrilled to know the reason we have summoned you here." Adams said, reading their thoughts, " I am sorry that this meeting came up unexpectedly, and I apologize if it interrupted any important task."

She saw the man look apologetically at Leon. The man nodded in reply, and she guessed that he was probably in some important assignment when he'd gotten called out.

"However, we considered that you need the first to be notified due to the circumstances…" the man continued.

"What circumstances are you talking about? I am not very patient, and you should know that already, Ed," Barry groaned.

"Yes, of course, I do, Barry. Let me fill you in about this. Yesterday we received an urgent report from a TerraSave/ BSAA team stationed in Cardigan Bay, Wales.

Adam pushed a set of folders at them. Jill flipped some of its pages, reading some random lines. It was a regular report of a sea patrol, but the words "Sea Wreck" and "Survivor" caught her attention.

"Four days ago, the sea-patrolling team found a body floating at the coast: a female in her 30's, barely alive, severely wounded, and highly dehydrated. She was taken to a TerraSave Health Center in the area immediately. She had no identification on herself, but a rescuer from the station seemed to know her."

"Oh…?" Barry frowned.

"There is a picture of her at the end of the file," Adams clarified.

Jill flipped to the end of the folder, and her eyes went wide in shock. The woman in the picture had her face covered in bruises and cuts that made her features barely recognizable, her hair was shorter, but it was still the same burgundy color she remembered.

"She said her name was Claire Redfield."

A heavy silence filled the room, and Jill could believe what she'd just heard. Claire Redfield? Was that even possible? When the Manor exploded. There's no way that someone survived that explosion, especially with the wound she had sustained and the cleanup team hadn't found any corpse, but still, even if she had managed to escape from that place alive, how had she ended up in Wales?

"Sir…?" Chris mumbled.

"I know, Chris. We have already arranged for a DNA test to confirm it."

"What if she is a clone...made up by Neo-umbrella?" Leon's voice muttered, "They have done it, and DNA would match."

Jill's heart broke. Among all the present, Chris and Leon were probably the ones who would be the happiest with the news, but their past experiences made them untrustful. It was painful to see that among them, both seemed to be the most skeptical.

"There's a way to...corroborate if it isn't a clone." Dr. Hiwamura said, and everyone in the room turned to her.

"Please, elaborate," Hopkins said with interest.

"Cloning searches to reproduce healthy cells, so naturally, pathologies wouldn't be copied unless it was genetic. If the pathology originated from external factors, it can't be copied."

"My sister was healthy...what are you trying to say?" Chris said with a frown.

"She was a carrier of remnants of the T-Phobos," Hiwamura said, crossing her arms, "She was infected with an inactive strain of the virus."

"Wait, what?" Barry snapped, "she got the antiviral, just like Moira and Natalia. Does that mean…?"

"Moira and Natalia are clean. The vaccine was developed based on the virus we found in Claire's body. She volunteered to be the test subject at the time, so the final version of the drugs did not affect her infection. We have to keep track of it. That was one of the main reasons why I got transferred here. The virus exists in Claire's body. However, it's lost its infectious capacity. It keeps invading cells and replicating, but her immunological system neutralizes the excess of sick cells. That prevents it from growing into infective doses..."

"What are you suggesting, Dr. Hiwamura?"

"If she got cloned, her immunological system would have been reset, and even if they had infected the "new" version with a sample of T-Phobos, the virus would be active, unlike the one infecting Claire. What happened to Claire was an ecological adaptation. To put it simply, unless they had a clone go through a physiological restrain that she went through and under a replica of conditions, the probability of them generating the same reaction is impossible."

"Wait, are you telling me that she was infected by a variation of the t-virus all this time? Damn, that's probably the reason she got targeted eight months ago. How can you tell us this now?" Chris snapped, hitting the table.

"We kept it secret for the same reason." Wentworth said, shaking his head, " When I talked to Claire two years ago, she told me she wanted it that way. Besides Dr. Hiwamura, the men sitting here, and Claire herself. No one knew of this fact. The information was classified, even to her friends to prevent something like that from happening."

"If she knew...then why didn't she get someone to protect her? Fuck! This could have been prevented…" Chris cursed.

"Chris, calm down…" Jill said, pulling his arm and trying to convince him to sit down again.

"She rejected the idea. Bodyguards would have attracted unnecessary attention. I don't think that Claire suspected this to be the reason behind her abduction either."

Chris did not reply. He clenched his fist in anger.

"Dr. Hiwamura, is it a trustworthy way to confirm Ms. Redfield's identity?" Hopkins asked.

"I am 99% sure, sir. I'd need to do the test."

"And...could you do that if we send you there?"

"Well, if you can drag the whole lab there, yes."

"Guess that's a no. We need to bring the woman here." Adams muttered.

"I am sure I can contact the local consulate for help." Hopkins said, "However, will she be in condition for the trip?"

"Was….she injured badly?"Jill asked.

"Yes, according to the medical report attached. It's a miracle that she is still alive." Wentworth sighed, " Multiple lacerations in her body, including organ damage. She lost a lot of blood, and some of her injuries got infected due to seawater. There are more details inside those files."

"There was evidence of a struggle. It's a fair guess that she escaped from someone or from somewhere."

Jill was starting to see what all this conversation was going to be.

"Sir, you don't think..." Jill began.

"Claire is a tough cookie…" Barry commented, "always was, always will be. Wherever she was, you can bet that she did not sit down like a docile pup."

Jill knew that Barry was probably right. If Claire had been in a difficult spot, the woman would definitely fight her way out.

"Sir, any idea of where she came from?" Jill asked.

"Unfortunately no, the first assumption was that she'd come from a wrecked ship, but the theory was later refuted when the rescuer recognized her. Listen, I understand this news must be shocking, but if this woman is indeed Claire Redfield. There's no doubt that there is some sort of bioterrorist hazard associated. I want you to go there and investigate the area. See if you find any clues."

Adams looked at the three BSAA agents, and they nodded.

"Agent Kennedy." Hopkins spoke to the blond, who had stayed quiet until then, "Your orders have changed. This woman has been labeled as an especial witness. You will go as a representation of both the DSO and USA, and we don't know what sort of things she might have gone through. We all agreed that it'd be better if the escort was to be someone she knew."

"I understand." the blond nodded.

"As for Dr. Hiwamura…"

"I'll check her state, yes."

"Very well, you leave today at noon. Please make the proper preparations.

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