#and so oliver will follow the star and return after years of wandering

[metropoliswhite]

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

I looked back and you vanished down into hell.  I sank to my knees and wept on the threshold between dark and light.

Then I stood and walked over the line.

To walk into death and come back is rare for man, but to face death is common.  And so, although I wished never to wake up again after sleep-stumbling into a meadow, I did.  The heart does not stop beating when it breaks, the two halves keep moving as they knit themselves back together.  I dragged myself into the nearest town and lay in the square for three days, unable to move or speak.  I cursed the sun above me.

(Sometimes, I make my way to a lake or a river and nereids tear me to pieces.  This is not one of these times.)

A woman left bread on the bench beside me.  She did it without looking at me, dropping it softly by my head swift on her way.  The muscle in my chest echoed in my head, louder and insistent.  I reached up, the movement stiff, clogged by the dust seeping into my bones.  I tore off a piece and almost swallowed it whole, my body acting on instinct when my mind would not.  I finished the loaf and sat up.  The world looked different from upright.  A young man gave me a jar of olives and smiled at me with pity, for indeed I was pitiful.  My legs dragged me up, my arms supported me against a tree, and my heart beat within me.

I took the job of an goatherd.  I would not play (could not play, I had left my lyre somewhere between our world and the next).  I lost my music with my wife, I swore, so instead I wandered the hills and high crags, following my animals. Their soft bleats filled the mountainsides up and reminded me of the songs I used to sing with her, and I wept again, my tears swiped away from my face by the harsh wind.  Time moves quickly in the mountains, it’s too cold to do anything else, and lingering grief is not allowed.  Still, as I descended at night it all came back to me, her dancing, warm and bright in the light of the stars.  So alive as only those creatures that adore life can be.  

Autumn passed and so did Winter, freezing over, the worst it had been in years.  We huddled within our houses, an old couple had lent me a room until I could build my own so I sat beside them by the fire as they swapped their stories and their wine.

(Sometimes my body is left to float away from itself in the cold depths.  Here, I braved the frosts and gales to bring fuel for the fire, to keep others warm. Stories change.)  

Eventually they ran out of stories to tell.  After a week of silence, I wove one for them.  An old tale, of heroes and monsters, dragons slain and children freed from terror, and the gods, always the gods, giving hope, halting success.  My wife sat at the back of the room as I told it, and as I finished she dissolved again into my breath, leaving me mourning her anew.  But the couple was filled with joy, and as they took my hands I felt them warm my fingers.  

More stories followed, old and newer, ones made up out of my own head.  Neighbours scurried into our home to hear me, and stayed longer to talk to each other, gentle murmuring, in Winter all you can be is gentle.  They talked to me too, and I began to reply, to ask questions. Murmuring became words, became sentences, became lives, all tangled up together with joy and grief and loss. One evening I tried to tell a story of a woman who had died, and a man who had walked into the underworld for her. I was barely half-way through before I choked.  I could not finish, but the people came back night after night.  I told other stories, but as the weeks passed I tried this one, again and again.  Each time I failed to finish it.  Each time the people returned.  My heart beat, keeping out the cold.    

Winter faded into Spring, and that brought another round of tears.  Spring is the most melancholy of seasons, its joy filled with loss of things unknown, and as the goats gave birth and taught their kids to leap and climb my vision blurred.

(Sometimes my end is full of water.  This time, the only water fell onto my cloak and stained it with salt).  

One afternoon I heard a child trying out a lyre.  Her fingers were too fat, too weak for the strings, and her sound was tight and hard.  I followed the sound, and saw her throw the instrument down in disgust, plopping onto the ground beside it.  

I offered to teach her.  Instinct is not so easily broken, and music was an instinct.  It was a small and poorly-made instrument, but it sang like a human throat, and the next month I sang with it.  The girl improved and as I saw the joy it brought her I prayed to any god that could hear that she would not be stolen from her mother’s garden and taken to some place cold and dark and empty.  The people gathered now outside, heard me teach, heard her play.  One night I sat down with my couple and under the stars I told them the story of a woman who had died, and a man who had walked into the underworld for her.  I told it out, I told it to the end, and they wept as I did.  I told them the man had died.  I did not know yet if that was true, but I was beginning for the first time since I saw the grass again to believe that it might not be.  

My wife still echoed in my footsteps, and I still wept for her.  But August had come and olive harvest began.  I picked jars of them and gave them to young men.  I had no bread to offer, but I played and sang for the women. I taught the lyre.  I led my goats.  I told stories.  I had asked my heart before that it would stop, but it refused.  I grew again to love the sun.   

My wife and I, we are spun out by the turning of the world, again and again, as a tragedy.  Sometimes we are. 

But tragedy suggests an end, and this time, I do not die.      

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Day 4: Pining / Attention

“If you were to look my way, I think my heart would just about explode.”

Day 4 of JustJadelentines2021!

[Day 1] / [Day 2] / [Day 3] / [You’re at Day 4!] / [Day 5] / [Day 6] / [Day 7]

JadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatmeJadepleaselookatme--Ah-HEM! Um... I mean... Leech mob family is a fun theory~

***Warning: Wish Upon a Star (Floyd’s Wish) & Floyd and Jade Birthday Suit Up! personal story spoilers!***

Imagine this...

Several wheelbarrows’ full of packages addressed to the twins arrived at Octavinelle every holiday. At first, Octa A was startled by the strange influxes of mail--but his concerns were often dismissed by his upperclassmen. Most notably, Jade would reassure him that the packages thanks to the Leeches’ “extensive connections” and “family ties”, whatever that meant.

The mob student tried not to linger on the meaning of those words too often, for whenever he did, his mind would wander into dark theories. Whichever corner of the deep, murky sea the twins originated from, Octa A didn’t want to be dragged there for asking too many questions.

So he closed his eyes and went about his work like the diligent employee that he was. The school year passed, and in turn, so did the holidays--and, as expected, the packages arrived without fail on each special occasion.

Then came Valentine’s Day.

“Wh-Whoah...!!”

Octa A’s jaw dropped at the sheer amount of mail unceremoniously littered across the floor of the Mostro Lounge. Boxes large and small were stacked as tall as him, wrapping paper of various patterns, glittery bows, and packing peanuts were scattered everywhere. One big mess.

Floyd say amongst the packages, giddily ripping boxes open, while Jade stood at the edge of the sea of mail, carefully inspecting the various packages.

“G-Good morning,” Octa A called out as he slowly waded through the mail, cautious about not stepping on anything. “What’s... What’s all of this? Th-This is a lot of mail--even more than usual.”

“Oya. Good morning to you as well, Kon-san,” Jade replied with a polite wave. “Bright and early for your shift, I see.”

“Ahh? It’s Konbu-chan!” Floyd cried, wearing a toothy grin. The eel excitedly waved to him, hailing the mob student over. “C’mere!”

Oh, thank Neptune, Octa A thought. He had caught the brothers in good moods today. The last thing he needed was a grumpy Floyd or a passive aggressive Jade leering over his shoulder.

With a little less trepidation than usual, he tip-toed over. Octa A just narrowly missed dirtying a discarded bunch of blue tissue paper before he reached his upperclassman.

“Hold your hand out,” Floyd commanded, his smile stretching.

“O-Okay...?” Octa A obeyed, unsure of what to expect.

“Here you goooo!!”

Floyd dropped something brown, warm, and sticky into the mob student’s palms. Octa A jumped at the strange sensation, his thoughts racing to the conclusion that it was something unsanitary--but when a sweet smell hit his nose and Octa A immediately knew it was chocolate.

“I don’t want it, so you can have it!”

“E-Ehhh?! Y-You’re just going to hand me a bunch of melted chocolate?!”

“Yup! Oh--you can have those too,” Floyd added, jabbing a thumb at a box by Octa A’s feet. “And this, and that... pretty much all of it, ‘cept the one from mom.”

“W-Whaaat?! Th-There’s no way that I can eat all of that...!!”

Jade’s laughter cut in, interrupting the conversation. “My, my, Kon-san. There is no need to fret. You need not consume all these sweets. Feel free to dispose of them as you wish, if that is what you think is best.”

“Th-Throwing them out is just as bad as giving them away!!” Octa A cast a sympathetic look at all the packages. Some thrown open, their guts spilling out, and others left totally untouched by their intended recipients.

“Oh? Whatever do you mean. Please, do enlighten us.”

“Tch. You gonna lecture us, Konbu-chan? This oughta be good.”

“What about... What about the feelings of the people that sent them? If they’re all Valentine’s Day gifts... s-some of them must be confession or friendship chocolates, people pining for you. Y-You can’t just throw away their feelings like that...!!”

The twins exchanged glances with one another, then collectively stared at Octa A. Floyd started first, his slow and steady chortle becoming increasingly raspy and unhinged. Jade followed suit, his gentlemanly chuckle twisting into a composed, yet cruel laugh.

“Wh-What’s so funny?”

“I simply find your naivety fascinating, Kon-san,” Jade replied with a grin. It seemed grossly out of place, given how he had laughed mere moments ago at the notion of discarding emotions.

“We don’t need to accept everything that’s thrown our way, you know~” Floyd cackled, flicking a wrapped truffle across the room. It hit the wall and ricocheted under a table. “Especially when we know all this junk’s from kiss-ups that wanna make it big.”

“H-Huh?” Octa A’s eyebrows knitted together. “What do you mean...?”

“Floyd.” Jade’s voice took on a stricter tone than usual with his twin. “You’ve gone and said too much.”

“Ehhh? It’s fiiine,” Floyd insisted with a pout. “It’s not like any of ‘em will know! And they always do the same thing every year. It’s sooo boring!”

“I understand your sentiments--it does become rather troublesome for us to dispose of these chocolates every year. However, that is a time and place for everything, and this is not one of those times.” Jade’s eyes briefly cut to Octa A before returning to his brother.

Floyd rolled his eyes, shrugged, and returned to delving into boxes.

“Um... S-So what did Floyd-senpai mean by ‘kiss-ups’?” Octa A dared to ask--his curiosity getting the better of him.

Jade heaved a sigh. “... If you really must know, Floyd and I are quite ‘popular’ back home in the Coral Sea. This is due, in part, to our father’s rather successful business enterprise. There are a number of his partners and associates that wish for what the Leech family has.”

He gestured to Floyd, who was still wrestling around with the packages. “Thus, they often attempt to curry favor by sending gifts. The hope is to soften us up to them--but many of them, I suspect, are aiming for a far greater long term prize: our hands in marriage, and therefore near unlimited access to the resources and power that our father wields.”

Octa A paled. Already, he could feel his stomach sinking, and his body temperature turning chilly--as though he had just plunged into an icy sea. He was on the cusp of a dark secret--he felt it in his gut.

“O-Oh... I see... Ahahah... Y-Your family politics sound complicated, Jade-senpai, Floyd-senpai.”

“Indeed, they are.” Jade spoke quietly, his eyes digging into Octa A’s soul. Though the eel still sported a curve to his lips, his gaze lacked warmth. The light seemed to have drained from his irises, leaving them dull and frigid.

Sizing the mob student up--trying to ascertain whether or not Octa A needed to be blackmailed into submission--into silence.

“I trust that you would not dig deeper. It would be rather unfortunate if we lost one of our treasured employees.”

Octa A gulped, nodding vigorously to confirm an unspoken promise to Jade. Then the first year scrambled to make small talk, to change the topic, if only to avoid his vice-dorm leader’s dreadful stare.

“I-It does sound annoying to have people always trying to get your attention. I-I’d just want to live a quiet, peaceful life not getting noticed by too many folks... That way, I can just do what I want.”

“That sounds sooo nice!” Floyd chimed in from the floor. “It sucks when other people try to tell you what to do or how to be, or tryin’ to get you to act how they want! Like, if I’m gonna do something, I’m gonna do it cuz I wanna, not cuz someone else wanted me to.”

“I-I guess...?”

“Ehehe. Konbu-chan gets us! So you’ll take all the chocolate off our hands, right? Riiiight?”

“E-Eh?! I-I mean, I can if it really troubles you so much, senpai--”

“Great! I knew we could count on you~ Here, here, take it all!!” Floyd leapt to his feet and began piling box after box in Octa A’s arms, despite the melted chocolate pooling in the mob student’s palms. Chocolate smeared on the bottom-most box, and Octa A yelped.

“W-Wait...!! P-Please slow down...!!”

“Fufufu. Thank you for your assistance,” came Jade’s voice. Octa A couldn’t see him, since a bunch of boxes now obscured his line of sight, but he was sure that Jade was smirking.

He caught a flash of movement in his periphery. Jade emerged on his left, his olive and gold eyes narrowed--and his mouth, lined with sharp teeth, folded into a perfect smile.

“Did you know, Kon-san? Many people would kill to be in the position that you are in... being able to so casually engage with us on a daily basis,” Jade chuckled, granting the mob student a pat on the back. “Octavinelle is very fortunate to have our full attention, don’t you agree?”

“Y-Yessir...”

[aboveallarescuer]

Daenerys Targaryen's tropes - Upbringing Makes the Hero

"Heroes are made, not born" is a common and unstated theme in a lot of works. Though a good many heroic origins proudly trot out heroes who have been raised in The Spartan Way and can look Death in the eye-sockets without blinking before leaving their Tibetan monastery home, quite a few grew up Farm Boys who never picked up anything sharper than a hoe, though those can be quite a handful.

In fact, heroes with a down to earth upbringing tend to have a unique advantage over the more badass and epic ones: they're more centered. While they won't be saints, they'll have a strong enough moral compass to navigate most moral dilemmas, resist The Dark Side, and even refute Hannibal Lectures that more emotionally fragile heroes struggle with. If they gain super powers, they won't forget "the little people" and turn into a Smug Super with delusions of grandeur. Though they didn't gain the crime-fighting prowess of a lifetime of Charles Atlas training, or the street-savvy of an orphan with a Dark and Troubled Past, they also didn't sacrifice basic skills or their social life.

Daenerys's background

A princess, Dany thought. She had forgotten what that was like. Perhaps she had never really known. (AGOT Daenerys I)

~

After Ser Willem had died, the servants had stolen what little money they had left, and soon after they had been put out of the big house. Dany had cried when the red door closed behind them forever.

They had wandered since then, from Braavos to Myr, from Myr to Tyrosh, and on to Qohor and Volantis and Lys, never staying long in any one place. Her brother would not allow it. The Usurper’s hired knives were close behind them, he insisted, though Dany had never seen one.

At first the magisters and archons and merchant princes were pleased to welcome the last Targaryens to their homes and tables, but as the years passed and the Usurper continued to sit upon the Iron Throne, doors closed and their lives grew meaner. Years past they had been forced to sell their last few treasures, and now even the coin they had gotten from Mother’s crown had gone. In the alleys and wine sinks of Pentos, they called her brother “the beggar king.” Dany did not want to know what they called her. (AGOT Daenerys I)

~

“The Milk Men shun him. Khaleesi, do you see the girl in the felt hat? There, behind the fat priest. She is a—”

“—cutpurse,” finished Dany. She was no pampered lady, blind to such things. She had seen cutpurses aplenty in the streets of the Free Cities, during the years she’d spent with her brother, running from the Usurper’s hired knives. (ACOK Daenerys III)

~

“My brother visited Pentos, Myr, Braavos, near all the Free Cities. The magisters and archons fed him wine and promises, but his soul was starved to death. A man cannot sup from the beggar’s bowl all his life and stay a man. I had my taste in Qarth, that was enough. I will not come to Pentos bowl in hand.”

“Better to come a beggar than a slaver,” Arstan said.

“There speaks one who has been neither.” Dany’s nostrils flared. “Do you know what it is like to be sold, squire? I do. My brother sold me to Khal Drogo for the promise of a golden crown. Well, Drogo crowned him in gold, though not as he had wished, and
I ... my sun-and-stars made a queen of me, but if he had been a different man, it might have been much otherwise. Do you think I have forgotten how it felt to be afraid?” (ASOS Daenerys II)

Key examples of Daenerys's mindset and actions as queen that reflect her past experiences

Death followed death. Weak children, wrinkled old women, the sick and the stupid and the heedless, the cruel land claimed them all. Doreah grew gaunt and hollow-eyed, and her soft golden hair turned brittle as straw.

Dany hungered and thirsted with the rest of them. (ACOK Daenerys I)

~

“I was alone for a long time, Jorah. All alone but for my brother. I was such a small scared thing. Viserys should have protected me, but instead he hurt me and scared me worse. He shouldn’t have done that. He wasn’t just my brother, he was my king. Why do the gods make kings and queens, if not to protect the ones who can’t protect themselves?”

“Some kings make themselves. Robert did.”


“He was no true king,” Dany said scornfully. “He did no justice. Justice ... that’s what kings are for.” (ASOS Daenerys III)

~

Dany set great store by Ser Jorah’s counsel, but to leave Meereen untouched was more than she could stomach. She could not forget the children on their posts, the birds tearing at their entrails, their skinny arms pointing up the coast road. “Ser Jorah, you say we have no food left. If I march west, how can I feed my freedmen?”

“You can’t. I am sorry, Khaleesi. They must feed themselves or starve. Many and more will die along the march, yes. That will be hard, but there is no way to save them. We need to put this scorched earth well behind us.”

Dany had left a trail of corpses behind her when she crossed the red waste. It was a sight she never meant to see again. “No,” she said. “I will not march my people off to die.” My children. “There must be some way into this city.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

~

When she looked over one shoulder, there it stood, the afternoon sun blazing off the bronze harpy atop the Great Pyramid. Inside Meereen the slavers would soon be reclining in their fringed tokars to feast on lamb and olives, unborn puppies, honeyed dormice and other such delicacies, whilst outside her children went hungry. A sudden wild anger filled her. I will bring you down, she swore. (ASOS Daenerys V)

~

Her audience chamber was on the level below, an echoing high-ceilinged room with walls of purple marble. It was a chilly place for all its grandeur. There had been a throne there, a fantastic thing of carved and gilded wood in the shape of a savage harpy. She had taken one long look and commanded it be broken up for firewood. “I will not sit in the harpy’s lap,” she told them. Instead she sat upon a simple ebony bench. It served, though she had heard the Meereenese muttering that it did not befit a queen. (ASOS Daenerys VI)

~

Reznak would have summoned another tokar next, but Dany insisted that he call upon a freedman. Thereafter she alternated between the former masters and the former slaves. (ADWD Daenerys I)

~

He was too eloquent for her. Dany had no answer for him, only the raw feeling in her belly. “Slavery is not the same as rain,” she insisted. “I have been rained on and I have been sold. It is not the same. No man wants to be owned.” (ADWD Daenerys III)

~

Her freedmen were represented by the captains of the three companies she had formed—Mollono Yos Dob of the Stalwart Shields, Symon Stripeback of the Free Brothers, Marselen of the Mother’s Men. Reznak mo Reznak hovered at the queen’s elbow, and Strong Belwas stood behind her with his huge arms crossed. Dany would not lack for counsel. (ADWD Daenerys III)

~

When you smashed the slave trade, the blow was felt from Westeros to Asshai. Qarth depends upon its slaves. So too Tolos, New Ghis, Lys, Tyrosh, Volantis … the list is long, my queen.”

“Let them come. In me they shall find a sterner foe than Cleon. I would sooner perish fighting than return my children to bondage.” (ADWD Daenerys IV)

~

“Lingering here will never bring it any closer. The sooner we take our leave of this place—”

“I know. I do.” Dany did not know how to make him see. She wanted Westeros as much as he did, but first she must heal Meereen. (ADWD Daenerys IV)

~

Yesterday a wagon had been overturned and two of her soldiers killed, so today the queen had determined that she would bring the food herself. Every one of her advisors had argued fervently against it, from Reznak and the Shavepate to Ser Barristan, but Daenerys would not be moved. “I will not turn away from them,” she said stubbornly. “A queen must know the sufferings of her people.” (ADWD Daenerys VI)

[chaoswillfallrpg]

KEIRA GREY is TWENTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD and a JUNIOR FORENSIC PATHOLOGIST for THE MORTUARY at ST MUNGO'S HOSPITAL. She looks remarkably like ALICE ENGLERT and considers herself NEUTRAL. She is currently TAKEN.

→ OVERVIEW:

tw: death, bodily harm

A Bambi-eyed girl with a mischievous streak, Keira Grey is a lionhearted witch born in East London to parents ANDREW and GINA GREY, the family had a relatively calm and simple life. Gina was a nurse who worked long hours though Keira could never remember hearing her mother complain, whilst Andrew worked as a dentist and regularly partook in moaning enough for both her parents. Their life was pretty clockwork in the little street house they struggled to afford off Brick Lane. Tea was always ready and on the table for Andrew getting in at five made mostly by her grandma PEGGY who took care of Keira around school and lived in their third upstairs bedroom. The only thing to break this clockwork cycle was the birth of her sister, EMILIA when Keira was five. Having a baby in the house was incredibly exciting for Keira and instantly when she laid eyes on her she loved her with all her heart. Keira became something of a second mother to Emilia, picking her sister up like a doll and walking around the house with her on the side of her hip whilst her grandma cooked their evening meal. The birth of her little sister spurred her parents to begin looking outside of London to raise their children and the reason they left the house one day and never returned. 

It was just an ordinary weekend that her parents kissed them on the forehead and left Keira holding a little two-year-old Emilia on her side and drove out to Kent to go house hunting. It was such a normal moment that would stick in Keira’s mind for the rest of her life. Their happy faces, her mother’s laugh, her father trying to hurry her into the car. Keira couldn’t believe they had been taken from them. Her grandma breaking down in the kitchen or the image of the car which flashed up on the evening news announcing they were survived by two children of the same names didn’t allow the realisation to click for Keira. It was one day after the funeral when her little sister asked when their parents were coming home did Keira fully accept they never would be. All Emilia would ever have of them were photographs, newspaper clippings and the memories of Keira and their grandma which made Keira’s heart break all over again. Keira became much older after her parents died. She wore a sullen expression on her face and dressed and bathed her younger sister with the expertise and seriousness of someone twice her age. Their grandma was elderly and although she was a no nonsense woman Emilia was a handful that Keira did her best to try and control, especially when strange things began to occur. 

Around the time her parents died Keira found it hard to contain her emotions, which seemed to spread out from her body. When she sat alone in the garden at times and cried it would snow, if she sang to Emilia as she slept she saw tiny stars and beams of light fly over the ceiling. Her magic always presented itself in a beautiful and visual way that although she had no explanation for she accepted and appreciated. For a time Keira believed it was just her that possessed the same gifts, but when Emilia turned six and she found their cat Marmalade flying through the air as she giggled Keira realised it may have been something that ran through their family. Keira’s letter to Hogwarts differentiated from any other letters that had come to their house. An envelope made from old paper with loopy calligraphy, as she peeled it open a strange sense of excitement built up inside of her she hadn’t felt since her parents passed away. Emilia Gray was a witch and as she went to bed that night dressed in a witches Halloween costume and clutching a plastic wand she felt more alive than she had done in years, her inner child having finally woken up after a long hibernation. Emilia was in love with Hogwarts and although she had no idea what it meant to be in Gryffindor until ARTHUR WEASLEY and TRYSTAN WARRINGTON happily told her over full plates of pumpkin pie. 

A Muggle-Born student, Keira received her fair share of bullying whilst at school but was more than equipped to handle it. A spitfire of a girl, she became known for her kind heart and an East London attitude which meant giving anyone as good as you got, both in the corridor and out on the Quidditch pitch. Keira shined as a Chaser for the team, supported by a gaggle of friends who cheered her on at every game and were more than ready to jump at her side to defend those who dared to bully her. JENNIFER VANE was her best friend and greatest companion as they strolled the halls of Hogwarts, though unlike their friends CONSTANCE SONG and LAUREL LINWOOD they never went looking for trouble, though it still seemed to find them particularly in the form of LACHLAN MCTAVISH, a Ravenclaw student who thought very highly of himself and enjoyed putting Keira down at every chance he got. Bartimus was irritating to Keira, but he was tolerable compared to the Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain TOMAS WOOD. Tomas often enjoyed stepping in to defend Keira when she didn’t need his help whilst simultaneously lauding himself around the pitch as the self-proclaimed best player at Hogwarts. Everyone who attended school at the same time as Tomas was in love with him, though Keira had never quite understood the infatuation herself and found him to be quite an arrogant and unpleasant individual. 

Although she loved Quidditch, Keira had another career path in mind and longed to follow somewhat in the footsteps of her parents and enter the medical profession. Graduating from Hogwarts with pleasing grades she began working as a Healer for The Wigtown Wanderers. Keira loved working with the team, bandaging them up and sending them on their way. The injuries were interesting and some of the tasks challenging, but not enough to truly stimulate Keira. Her brain worked in a methodical way, having found she enjoyed figuring out what had caused the injuries rather than fixing them. When a job working in the morgue came up working under PROFESSOR HERBERT SPLEEN, Keira tentatively applied for it, unsure as to how she would feel being surrounded by so much death but after being accepted quickly found joy in what some might consider morbid. As Keira saw it, she used her medical expertise to help catch criminals and enjoyed working with the Auror’s Office to bring about justice.She lived a fairly happy life but it was no small secret that the Grey family had always had financial issues, with Keira working longer hours to support the family as the primary earner and it was that well known fact that someone began to take advantage of. 

The day BOOKER BAGNOLD arrived at St Mungos, Keira had been very sure what had killed him. It was an advanced spell, a one that cut the body like a sword or a set of claws but a spell nonetheless. Keira’s judgement would sadly never make it to the Auror’s Office. Shaking hands with CORBAN YAXLEY they made an unbreakable vow, promising to use his influence to get Emilia her dream job at The Daily Prophet and money in exchange for this change and her silence. A few days later Emilia began her job at the paper and Keira silently paid off the mortgage on their little house in Brick Lane as she watched the chaos she had caused play out in front of her. Since her parents died Keira has always tried to live her life according to what would make them proud, vowing to do her best by them and take care of Emilia the way she always had done. Keira finds it hard to look at herself in the mirror knowing the reason people are looking so closely at SILAS CRUMP is because of the deal she struck, but it has become even more difficult now FRANK LONGBOTTOM and REMUS LUPIN have come back round asking more questions. With her life on the line, Keira knows she has to continue to keep her secret but it’s only a matter of time before someone realises her mistake and her lie begins to unravel with potentially deadly consequences, prompting her to wonder how much it was all worth it. 

→ ADDITIONAL INFORMATION:

Blood Status → Muggle-Born

Identification → Cis Female

Sexuality  → Up to Roleplayer  

Relationship Status → Single

Previous Education → Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry (Gryffindor)

Societies → Sorcerers for Equality 

Family → Emilia Grey (sister)

Connections  → Jennifer Vane (best friend), Arthur Weasley (close friend), Trystan Warrington (close friend), Laurel Linwood (close friend), Glenda Chittock (close friend), Natan Diggory (friend), Daisy Hookum (friend), Constance Song (friend), Mafalda Hopkirk (friend), Tomas Wood (acquaintances/potential love interest), Professor Hebert Spleen (boss), Remus Lupin (friend/colleague), Frank Longbottom (colleague), Corban Yaxley (adversary), Lachlan McTavish (former adversary)

Future Information → Wife of Tomas Wood, Mother of Oliver Wood (subject to change)

KEIRA GREY IS A LEVEL 7 WITCH.

[ghostly-cabbage]

Frigid (Chapter 1)

Danny Phantom fanfic

Genre: Horror, Angst, Enemies to Friends

Fic Rating: M (Language, Underage Drug Use, Violence and Gore)

Summary: Wes and his brother Kyle have just moved to Amity Park. Wes is only worried about fitting in, but all the ghost nonsense is making that harder and harder. Something weird is going on in this place, and his chemistry lab partner is no different. Seriously, what the hell was up with the Fenton kid and why did everyone ignore it?

Danny is a junior in high school, and pressure is squeezing in on all sides. Keeping good enough grades to graduate, and dealing with the snoopy new kid wasn't bad enough, but he's starting to feel like his parents are getting closer to figuring out his secret. Jazz is off at college and he didn't realize just how helpful it was when she was home to cover for him.

Danny's been able to keep his secret at school for one reason, and that's that no one cares to watch him close enough to connect the dots. Wes is different.

AO3   FFN

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"The air is different here," Wes said, looking up at the swath of stars across the sky. Kyle exhaled a plume of smoke that clouded the view. 

"Shit. Don't get all poetic on me now." Kyle coughed his way into a laugh and Wes kicked his shin just hard enough to hurt. 

"Ow!" 

"Shut up dude, I mean it's colder here. More humid or something too." 

"Yeah, definitely nothing like home." Kyle swung his legs back and forth off the brow of the roof. "How was your first day of school btdubs?" He offered Wes the joint pinched between his fingers. Wes waved him off. 

"Thrilling, nothin' like being the new kid," he said.  

Kyle shrugged and took another hit.

“‘S not so bad, my day was chill,” he croaked out while trying to keep his breath held in. 

Wes scrunched his nose at the smell. “Jesus dude, that stuff smells worse than normal.” 

“Yeah—” he puffed out the cloud of smoke “—the shit here isn’t as good. Missin’ that green triangle right about now.” Kyle let out a wistful sigh. Wes almost wanted to ask how he’d found a dealer already, but it was Kyle. He always found someone. It was like his supernatural ability to sniff out someone who’d sell to minors.

 “Anyway, basketball tryouts are at the end of the week, right? Cheer up my man, you’ll get mad chicks once you make the team.” Wes shot him a glare. Getting chicks was the last thing on his mind. He was more preoccupied with the fact their dad uprooted their entire lives to move to fucking Illinois. Illinois!

“Whatever dude.” There was a brief silence, before Kyle bumped his shoulder into him. He took another deep drag off his joint, the static burn filling the air like white noise. The stars continued to glimmer coldly in the sky, and it sent a pang of homesickness through him. It was bullshit. 

“Any classes you like?” 

“Psh. Hardly… Well. There’s a photography class—” 

“Didn’t you mention something about chem at lunch?” 

“Oh. That.” Wes started to get angry just thinking about it. “Yeah. Chemistry two. Apparently we have to have a lab partner for the whole semester. Which wouldn't be a big deal but I got stuck paired with a dude that’s ‘banned for life’ from using the chem equipment.” He used his fingers for the air quotes. “So I’m probably gonna have to do everything.”

Kyle took a breath like he was about to say something, but Wes pressed on. “What the hell do you even have to do to get banned for life from using the chemistry stuff?” 

“Dude! Maybe your partner got busted for making drugs! That Breaking Bad kinda shit! That’d get him banned fer sure fer sure.” His words slurred around the edges.

Wes almost laughed. “You’re high Kyle. If you saw him you’d understand. This guy isn’t a drug lord, trust me, he’s a twig. No way he’d be involved in anything dangerous. If that guy does anything more exciting than video games I’d eat your hat.” 

Kyle gasped. “Brooo!” 

“What?”

“Somthin’ to eat sounds wicked. Wanna swing by that... Nasty place, what’zit called? We saw it on the way in.” 

Wes rolled his eyes and heaved a sigh. 

“Nasty Burger?”

“Nasty Burger!”

“As a majority of you are aware, it’s a new school year, which means as per new school district regulation it’s time to report to the gym for the annual ghost safety course, and later today at an unspecified time there will be a ghost drill.” Mr. Lancer droned at the front of the class. The other students around Wes all groaned like they’d been assigned a pop quiz, rather than that being the most batshit crazy thing they’d ever heard. Uh, what the hell? He raised his hand. 

“Yes, Mr. Weston.” 

“Did... you just say ghost safety course?” Kids around him chuckled and shared knowing looks. It was like he was on the other side of an inside joke.   

“Regrettably so, Mr. Weston. Everyone single file to the gym please. Leave your bags here, you’ll be back before the third period,” Lancer said as he gestured to the door. Wes stayed sitting for a few seconds longer than the class, trying to make sense of what he’d just heard. Ghosts? Like actual ghosts? 

“Hey, Fenturd, can’t wait to see how your parents fuck it up this year!” Wes turned towards the back of the classroom to see a tall broad shouldered guy, Dash if he remembered right, shoving past Danny Fenton, AKA his chem lab partner. Danny lurched to the side, stumbling into a desk. There were two other kids that Wes hadn’t seen before standing behind Danny, a goth girl and a dweeby kid in a beret.

“Bro, I still have the picture on my phone from when they couldn’t get Mr. Fenton out of that ghost netting,” said an equally massive asian guy. The small knot of kids around them all laughed and filed past Danny and his presumed friends. Danny was glaring daggers at the back of Dash’s head. 

So… Danny’s parents were the guest speakers, and they were giving a talk on... ghost safety… Seriously, did anything here make sense? Wes followed after the crowd, trying to wrap his head around it. The odd trio started following a few paces back.

“Great. Just what I need to kick off the year again,” Wes heard Danny grumble. 

“Oh come on Danny, It wasn’t that bad,” the goth girl said. 

“Nah, it was pretty bad.” 

“Tucker!” 

“What?!”  

Wes tried to continue listening to their conversation but the person in front of him turned around to look at him. 

“You’re the new kid right?” She asked. She had long blonde hair and perfect makeup. 

“Uh, yeah. Wes.” 

“I hear you’re trying out for the basketball team, right?” A few of the popular kids walking in front of her glanced over their shoulders to look at Wes.

“Y-yeah. I was point guard on my last team back home.” 

“I don’t know what that means.” She tossed a lock of hair behind her shoulder. Her eyes were burning into him like she was personally judging where he fit into the social caste system of the school.  “But good luck. I’m Star, by the way. My boyfriend’s on the football team so don’t get any ideas.”  

“Oh please Star, you’re like, totally out of his league, basketball team or not,” a new voice cut in from just in front of Star. Another girl with dark wavy hair turned to look at him. She had dark olive skin, almond eyes and thick eyelashes. “I’m Paulina, but I’m sure you’ve heard all about me already. People are kind of obsessed with me, they can’t help it.” She said it with a smile and a cute giggle to punctuate her sentences. He’d seen her in homeroom yesterday, and he knew right off the bat she was top of the hierarchy, her and Dash both seemed to have a pretty solid hold on their popularity. If he was going to survive here he needed to make sure they liked him, or at the very least had nothing bad to say about him. 

“I can see why, it’s nice to meet you,” he said. The two girls shared a look, shrugged and turned their attention away from him. 

He let go of the breath he’d been holding, feeling like he’d just passed some sort of test.  He’d never exactly been a popular kid. In elementary school he was small and easy to pick on. Unless Kyle was around, who had a nonchalant courage about him, even as a kid. It’d taken a lot of work for Wes to figure out how to fit in just under the radar of the big fish. 

He stepped into the bustling gym along with the rest of the Junior homeroom class. The bleachers were pulled out, and the class dispersed to find their place to sit. Wes bobbed his head over the shoulders of other students looking for Kyle. It took some work but eventually his eyes landed on his brother. He was lounging, taking up two seats worth of space on the far left side of the bleachers. He made a beeline for him, and took the stairs two at a time. The clamor of the student body filled the room, and when he sat down he had to speak over it. 

“Dude, can you believe this? A ghost assembly?” His brother had never been the most believing of the supernatural. But this place, openly acknowledging the presence of ghosts? He’d like to see Kyle try and refuse to believe now. 

“Yeah man! This school must really love Halloween.” 

And there it was. 

“Kyle. It’s September.” 

“And? Bro they got the Halloween decorations up at wally-world already, why not have a fun Halloween thing?” Wes frowned, and clicked his tongue. He propped his chin against his hand and watched as the school started to settle. His eyes wandered the rows until he found the goth girl. Danny and the kid she’d called Tucker were with her. They were sitting in the section over a row down. Danny had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his black NASA hoodie, and a pinched look on his face. He couldn’t exactly say he blamed the kid, the thought of his own dad showing up to give a presentation made him shiver in horror. 

They’d set up a stage in the center of the gym. Principal Ishiyama stepped up to the podium, and tapped the mic. 

“Hello students of Casper High! For incoming freshmen, allow me to officially extend a warm welcome, and to all returning students, welcome back!” She was way too chipper for the time of morning. “As many of you know we have to review some safety precautions. Now, this may not be new information but I expect you all to pay attention and be respectful regardless. With that, allow me to introduce local ghost experts: Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Ishiyama moved back, clapping for the guests. The crowd gave mixed reactions. Most people looked like they were only applauding out of awkwardness. Wes was definitely included in that category. 

A man and woman with brightly colored… jumpsuits? Hazmat suits? Whatever they were, came forward. The man was intimidating from the pure size of him alone. Jesus christ, he looked like a NFL linebacker. Next to him, was a slight and fit woman. She spoke first, standing at the podium. 

“Good morning everyone! My husband and I are honored to be welcomed back to run through the safety course with you kids!” Mrs. Fenton was peppy and direct with the way she spoke and the way she moved. “As of last year the manual ghost alarms were installed around the school.” Maddie motioned to the projector screen behind her that had been lowered from the ceiling. “As you can see here.” The picture on the projector showed huge red buttons ringed by yellow and black caution trim. Wes had seen them around before, but he’d figured they were for... tornados or something, they had those here right?

“If you see a ghost you are encouraged to press this button so that the school can evacuate and the correct professionals may be notified.” 

“By that she means us!” Mr. Fenton shouted, popping up in front of the projector. She moved on as if the interruption hadn’t even happened. 

“Whatever you do, do not engage with a ghost. Ghosts are highly dangerous. Even a low level ecto-entity can be a threat to your life and well-being!” Her voice was grave, and practically oozed with conviction. Wes looked over at Kyle, gesturing towards the stage, incredulous. 

“Really? Nothing to say about this?”

“What can I say, they’re pretty dedicated. Dude, Wes, it might be an ARPG, like remember the Halo 2 ‘I love bees' thing?”

“I hate you. This isn’t even anything close to—” 

“Shh!” Someone who sounded like a teacher hissed at them. He turned his attention back to the presentation, annoyed. 

“Now, let’s go over what to do if you think you’ve been possessed or otherwise overshadowed by a ghost! First thing to look for are gaps in memory or consciousness. Changes in mood or violent tendencies can also occur. Keep an eye on your friends and loved ones. Remember that no one is immune to being overshadowed by a ghost, unless you purchase a Fenton Specter Deflector available on our website!” Almost out of nowhere, the woman pulled out what looked like a metal belt. There was silence in response, and she cleared her throat. 

“If you or someone you know has been or is currently possessed please seek help immediately, go to your teachers or parents.” Wes watched as she moved on to the next subject, talking with the fervor and simplicity of an expert. Screw whatever Kyle said, this wasn’t just for shits and giggles or some halloween event. Something was different here. The other students, despite seeming bored, looked like they fully believed her. Maybe people here would actually believe him about what happened when he was a kid. 

The hazy memories crept along his skin, making the hair on his arms stand on end. His dad told him he had an active imagination. He knew it wasn’t that.

“Finally, let’s go over what to do if a ghost fight breaks out!” 

“A ghost fight?” he echoed, brows furrowing. 

“As we’ve said, do not engage or interact with ghosts for any reason—”

“Hey, what about Phantom?” Someone from the crowd shouted. A murmur of agreement rippled through the students. 

“Who’s Phantom?” He wondered out loud, and a guy sitting in front of him turned to give him an affronted look. 

“We strongly discourage interacting with Phantom especially! When it comes to ghosts, it’s simple. There are no good ghosts! Ghosts are ectoplasmic post-human impressions driven only by their obsession! They are not human and don’t care about the havoc they wreak.”  

The crowd murmured again, the disapproval evident. A few kids shouted unintelligible things, but they sounded defensive. Wes didn’t get it, the Fenton lady seemed to know her shit, why argue? 

“Quiet! Quiet please!” Ishiyama called over the voices. Eventually the students settled, and the Fentons wrapped up their presentation. Everyone seemed disappointed that nothing embarrassing happened, until Mr. Fenton underestimated the height of the stage, and face planted onto the gym floor. The students broke into an uproar of laughter, and Ishiyama rushed to the mic to dismiss everyone back to homeroom. Wes couldn’t hold back a laugh, and glanced over to see Danny hunching up his shoulders. If Wes had to describe someone that looked like they wanted to disappear, it would be Danny in that moment. 

The walk back to the classroom was uneventful, though he was pretty sure he heard Mrs. Fenton repeatedly calling out “Danny sweetie!” Wes was really glad he wasn’t that poor bastard, talk about humiliating. He tried to ignore the pang that twisted inside his stomach. Still, it must be nice to have a mom around. 

Fifth period started in four minutes, and Wes was stuck fiddling with the lock on his locker. The damn thing looked like it’d been fished off the titanic. The wheel made an awful squealing noise when he twisted it, and even when the lock popped, he had to yank on it to get it to unlatch all the way. He put in his combo for the third time and pulled. It came undone and if it weren’t for holes on the handle he’d have gone stumbling backwards. He opened the locker and was just about to grab his History textbook, when an ear splitting alarm blasted from the overhead speakers. He jumped and spun around, hands coming up to cover his ears. 

It wasn’t like a fire alarm, instead of the shrill school bell ringing, it was a long whooping siren that echoed up and down the halls like a nuclear strike was incoming. Wes had to hand it to them, it sounded creepy as fuck. The emergency lights flashed in the hallways, and the kids around him started to make for the exits.  

“Your attention please,” an automated female voice came over the speaker, offering  a brief respite from the siren. “A ghost has been sighted in the building. Please evacuate or get to safety as soon as possible.” Holy shit, was this really happening? The siren began its wailing again. His heart thundered in his chest, and he looked both ways up and down the hall. He didn’t see anything, except for Lancer standing at the end of the hall, directing students to an emergency exit. Wes remembered then that Lancer had said something about a “ghost drill”. Of course that’s what this was. Just a drill. Wes let out a shaky breath, and went to close up his locker before he headed out. 

Which in retrospect wasn’t the greatest idea. In less than a second, something changed. The hall felt darker, and the air grew cold. Not cold like someone left the window open, cold like he’d just walked into a meat freezer. It prickled against his skin, and he felt a deep sense of dread sink to the bottom of his stomach. 

“Little lamb…” Murmured a soft voice. It echoed up the hall, and Wes forced himself to turn and look. He shouldn’t have, he really shouldn’t have. It was the shape of a woman, but she was floating a foot off the ground. She had stringy hair, and bangs that partially covered her empty eyes. In her hand looked like a shepherd's crook. Wes slammed his back against his locker, his knees locking up. He felt his hands start to tremble. Not again, he didn’t want the nightmares again.

The hall was empty, the last few terrified kids were gone. 

“Little lamb... separated from the herd… Don’t you know there’s predators?” Her voice echoed unnaturally, it’s clarity sending chills across his skin. She was hardly speaking above a whisper, but it was rough and cracked, like something had happened to her voice. But the thing that was worse was even at barely a whisper, he could somehow hear her over the sirens. Like she was right next to him breathing the words into his ears. 

The alarm cut out and the automated message looped. The woman—ghost lifted her crook to point at him. “Little lambs have to come back home,” she said. The sound of panting and low growling filled the hall. A green shape, low and lean flew out from behind her. It closed the gap between them in three strides flat. It’s eyes glowed red, and white teeth slavered toxic green. Wes’ voice stuck in his throat and he couldn’t scream, he squeezed his eyes shut and hoped he’d wake up.

Wes felt the air stir in front of him, and he heard a meaty crunch followed by a deafening caterwaul. His eyes flashed open to see the mountain lion-like creature picking itself up off the ground on the other side of the hall. And directly in front of him, it was another human shape, another ghost. They had white hair and a black jumpsuit on. 

“Bad kitty! What, did someone forget the catnip?” It was a guy’s voice that echoed around the hall. The shape cast a glance over his shoulder at Wes. He gulped down a breath, it was a boy about his age. His eyes glowed the same neon toxic green that painted the hall in its supernatural light. He looked like he was about to say something, when the big cat hurled itself at his flank. Its massive front paws slammed into his midsection and they disappeared into the wall. 

The shepherd moved towards him, and Wes felt like he was going to pass out or throw up. Maybe both, both sounded okay. She was focused entirely on him as she drifted over the floor. She was four feet away, and the expression etched onto her dead face made his stomach twist. This was worse, this was way worse than even the nightmares. Her empty eyes leaked tears. 

“It’s dangerous. There’s predators.” She lifted a hand like she was trying to reach for him. A blast of green light suddenly filled his vision, and the girl let out a scream. She was slammed backwards into a set of lockers and she slipped down to the ground. Wes’ gaze snapped to where the blast of energy had come from and saw the ghost boy. He was floating six feet off the ground, and his right hand was glowing green. He had a long deep slash across his side that was oozing and dripping globby green ectoplasm. 

“I’ve never seen you before,” he said. “What do you want?” his tone of voice was firm and sharp, it felt like ice. The girl looked up at the boy. She opened her mouth and screamed. It was a raw terrible thing that petered off into an agonized gurgle. The ghost boy arched a brow, but before he could say anything else the Shepherd melted into the wall. 

“Shit,” the ghost puffed. He turned his eyes to Wes and he stiffened again. Right, he wasn’t exactly out of the woods yet. “You must be new here. Piece of advice, run away next time, okay dude?” The ghost boy looked up at the ceiling that still had the alarms blaring and rolled his eyes. In the next instant he shot through the wall where the shepherd ghost had disappeared. 

Wes let out a breath and sunk to the floor, shivering from head to toe. What the hell was that?    

[raywritesthings]

Sin and Celebration

My Writing Fandom: Arrow Characters: Laurel Lance, Sin Lance (aka not Arrow’s version), Oliver Queen Pairing: Laurel Lance/Oliver Queen Summary: Laurel and her young charge inspire and attend the Queens' holiday party. Notes: AU where after Oliver leaves at the end of season 1, instead of falling into drinking and pills as a coping mechanism, Laurel instead puts her energy towards taking in one of the orphans from the Glades left without a home, thus introducing the character of Sin (and a more comics-accurate version of Sin at that) into the Arrowverse as Laurel's adoptive daughter/ward. *Can be read on AO3, link is in bio*

Another long day, or maybe it just felt that way thanks to it getting darker earlier and earlier most nights. Laurel had left the office to pick Sin up from school, and the two of them had gotten dinner out. She was trying more to cook at home, but some days Laurel just wanted the opportunity to relax with her young charge. Spending time with Sin, watching the small girl slowly start to open up more, was one of the few remaining bright spots in her life, and truthfully it had kept her going.

By the time they got back to the apartment, Laurel was ready to put the girl to bed and call it a night, but Sin tugged on Laurel’s hand just before they could cross the threshold. “Laurel, how come we don’t have one?”

“Have one what, sweetie?” Laurel asked, looking back as Sin pointed to the wreaths hanging on most of her neighbors’ doors. Come to think of it, Sin had been looking around with big eyes at all the lights and the big tree downtown, too. “Oh. Well, the neighbors must have decorated for Christmas.”

“But you don’t?”

They walked inside, and Laurel set her purse aside, shrugging out of her coat before crouching down to help Sin out of hers. “Not really. That’s okay though, isn’t it?”

She worried her lip. Being that Sin was originally from China, she ought to have done some research into holidays important to her culture; just because Laurel didn’t bother to celebrate any of the milestones she’d grown up knowing didn’t mean she wanted to rob Sin of that experience.

Sin shrugged. “I don’t mind. There was a little tree at the orphanage, and some of the kids said they used to get presents. I don’t get what it’s gotta do with a baby being born, but the lights and stuff were pretty.”

Laurel found herself smiling a little, even as her heart gave a sad sort of twinge. The baby she associated the most with Christmas hadn’t lain in a manger, but Sara was no more present than the son of God.

She supposed it didn’t hurt decorating a little and getting Sin presents. The holiday was so commercialized anyway, and her charge had clearly already been exposed to it. “Okay. How about tomorrow, we’ll take a look around the shops and you can pick out what we should put up around the apartment?”

That was what found Laurel out at the stores bright and early on her day off, wandering up and down aisles of tinsel, green branches and red ribbons. Sin’s brow was furrowed in concentration as she hunted for the perfect wreath for their door. Laurel was happy to let her take the lead, feeling pretty out of depth herself.

Keeping her eyes on the young girl meant that Laurel didn’t quite see the person around the corner until they crashed shoulders. “Oh, sorry.”

“That’s okay. Hey,” Oliver replied, a smile lighting his face as he took in her appearance. 

Laurel found herself smiling back. “Hey.”

Things had become less awkward between them ever since Laurel had recused herself from his mother’s case once Moira had rejected the plea deal and had been set to be charged with the death penalty.

“I’m sorry, Adam, but I can’t expose Sin to something like this,” she had told her boss. “She’s curious about everything to do with my work.” Truthfully, Laurel herself didn’t favor the death penalty after her experience with Peter Declan last year, and she’d been grateful to get out of having to prosecute a woman she had known since her childhood.

In the present, Oliver smiled down at Sin and returned her shy wave. “What are you ladies up to today?”

“Shopping for decorations,” she answered.

His eyebrows rose up his forehead. “Wow, that’s a change.”

Laurel gave a half-hearted eyeroll. “What about you?”

“The same, actually. I’m hosting a party at the manor for my mother. Well, it’s a Christmas party, too, but I wanted to celebrate her being home with us.”

Laurel nodded. As unbelievable as Moira’s acquittal had been, she was happy for Oliver and Thea that they hadn’t had to face that loss.

“A party?” Sin asked at her side.

“Yeah, Ollie’s family has a party each year,” Laurel told her.

“Can we go? I’ve never been to a Christmas party.”

“Uh,” Laurel said, an awkward laugh leaving her. She patted Sin’s shoulder gently. “It’s not polite to invite yourself over to someone else’s home, honey.”

“That’s okay. Of course, you both are invited,” Oliver immediately excused. “Actually… that’s really not a bad idea, making it a family thing. Isabel, my co-CEO, she doesn’t feel I’ve done a lot to endear myself to the board,” he explained. “Maybe I ought to try getting to know them more as people, mothers and fathers. It’s my family’s company, it should feel like a family.”

“That doesn’t sound like a bad idea to me,” Laurel told him. She knew he’d had some missteps early on with assuming the role — and Sebastian’s early attacks against him certainly hadn’t helped any — but she was glad to see him still trying.

“Laurel,” Sin said, tugging on her coat. She pointed to a wreath hanging just over Ollie’s shoulder. “That one.”

“Yeah?”

Sin nodded. Oliver reached and plucked it off the rack, holding it out.

“There you go.”

“Thanks. Okay, I think we just need a tree, and that should about do it,” Laurel decided. “You’ll send me the party details?”

“Yep,” Oliver agreed. “Uh, Laurel,” he called out before they’d gotten four steps back down the aisle. “The trees are outside.”

“I’m just grabbing a boxed one,” she admitted, looking back over her shoulder in time to see his crestfallen expression.

“But it’s Christmas. You have to have a real tree.”

Sin looked up at her with those pleading eyes Laurel was really starting to suspect her young charge had a lot more control over than she let on. She let out a sigh.

“Come on, I’ll help you get it loaded onto the car.” Oliver actually ended up coming over to help carry the thing up to their apartment and get it in place in the tree stand, then a call on his phone had him excusing himself to let them do the decorating. She followed Sin’s instructions on where to hang the ornaments on the higher branches and even lifted the girl up so she could put the star on top. Her budget didn’t love how much they’d spent today, but it was worth it for the smile on Sin’s face. It was a sight becoming more common as the months passed, but Laurel always felt a swell of pride that she managed to put it there. If she could make this one child happy, then maybe it hadn’t been a mistake that she’d survived the Undertaking when so many — when Tommy — hadn’t.

The night of the Queen’s party arrived, and Laurel led Sin up the steps after handing her keys off to the valet. She waved off the attendant coming to take their coats. “It’s okay, we can do it.” Sin liked knowing where her possessions were at all times, part of growing up with nothing, she knew. So Laurel led them over to the closet off to the side and helped her hang it up herself so she could see the whole process.

A four-piece orchestra was playing from the ballroom, so they followed the sound. Laurel was glad she had guessed right on the attire for adults and worn a deep green evening dress. Sin also blended in with the other kids in her sweater, skirt and patterned tights.

Waiters skirted the edge of the dance floor with trays of appetizers, some decidedly more kid-friendly than not. Clumps of people stood gathered around, talking and even smiling, though as Laurel watched Mrs. Queen making the rounds greeting people there was definitely still some tension there.

There were holiday-themed games set up for the children off to one side, musical chairs with Christmas carols serving as the music and a felt red nose with Velcro attached to one side for the kids to try and pin on a picture of what had to be Rudolph. Other kids were coloring pages with Santa or snowmen or dreidels printed on them.

“Do you want to go play?” Laurel asked her charge, as Sin was still sticking to her side. “You don’t have to unless you want.”

“Maybe just a little,” Sin decided.

“Okay. Come get me for anything, alright? Even if you just want to go home.”

Sin nodded and then jogged off towards the other kids. Laurel watched her go with a smile; she knew Sin was having a little trouble making friends at her new school, so to see her willingly engaging with others her own age was a good sign.

“She looks happy,” Oliver remarked, and it honestly didn’t surprise her to find him standing a few feet behind her.

“Yeah. Thanks for the invite. Looks like a succcess.”

Oliver smirked. “I really have you and Sin to thank for that. Almost all of our attendees are parents. If you hadn’t given me the idea to make it a family event, I imagine they wouldn’t have bothered to come.”

“I guess we’re helping each other out, then.”

A cheer went up from the kids’ side of the room. Sin had unerringly found Rudolph’s nose to pin the red felt to, and she was flushed with pride as she took off the blindfold. Laurel was tempted to go over and offer her praise, but she also didn’t want to interrupt the kids.

The orchestra started a new song, and she felt Oliver’s fingers brush her elbow. “Care for a dance?”

“Okay,” she agreed tentatively, allowing herself to be lead out onto the dance floor where Oliver’s secretary was already swaying with a lanky young man with brown hair. She placed one hand in Oliver’s and rested the other on his shoulder while his hand went to her waist. How many times had they danced like this at one of his family’s high society events, both before and after they had ever become involved? It didn’t have to mean anything more than it used to all those years before. They were still friends, after all.

They had nearly been something more, but when he had left last spring it had nearly destroyed her. She’d been lucky to find out the plight that children like Sin were facing after their homes, families or the orphanages they had lived in had been lost. Taking in Sin had given her someone to pour her love and attention into who wouldn't end up refusing it, a way to be needed. When Oliver had come back, even if she could understand why he had needed the time away, she had had to turn him down; she wasn’t about to simply forget the girl she had made herself the legal guardian of just because the man she had been trying to forget about the last five months had come back into her life.

Things with Oliver were just too undefined and ever-changing to introduce into the stability she was trying to give Sin’s life right now as well. There were times like now where she felt completely on the same page as him, like they could read each other perfectly. Then other times his decisions made absolutely no sense. So no matter how nice it felt to be held in his arms or to rest her cheek on his shoulder while they shuffled side to side in a world of their own, she knew all the while it couldn’t and wouldn’t last, and that when the song had ended, the distance would grow between them once again.

In fact, it was earlier. She felt Oliver stiffen for just a second, his fingers flexing against her back. His gaze was over her head, and a glance back showed her Mr. Diggle was clearly trying to communicate something.

“You need to go?” She guessed.

“Uh.” Oliver’s step faltered, though he avoided stepping on her toes at least. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay. I should be getting home with Sin for her bedtime.” She withdrew from his embrace, smoothing at the folds in her dress.

“You’re a— you make a wonderful guardian to her, Laurel,” he told her. “I’m really glad you found each other.”

“I am, too. Goodnight, Ollie. Merry Christmas.” She turned and left the dance floor, finding Sin coloring at the table with a look of concentration on her face. “Almost done?”

Sin nodded. Laurel went to fetch their coats and helped Sin back into hers when she returned. She stopped by Thea and Mrs. Queen briefly to thank them for the nice evening, and then they were heading back out into the cold to wait for the valet to bring the car around.

“You really like him, right?” Sin asked, and Laurel blinked and looked down.

“Oliver?”

“Yeah. Does he like you back?”

Laurel smirked. That was the question of the year, wasn’t it? “What do you think?”

“I think so.” It was stated with a child’s matter-of-fact certainty, and she couldn’t resist reaching out to pat the top of the girl’s head.

“How’d you like your first Christmas party, Sin?”

“It was great! I hope we go next year, too.”

Laurel wasn’t sure she could see that far into next year. Things in her life seemed to change drastically all the time. But if she were a betting woman, there would have to be two constants going forward: this girl she had brought into her home and her heart, and the inescapable push and pull between herself and Oliver Queen.

“Yeah, me too.”

[writingsofmyimagination]

28 Days |Epilogue|

GIF by: @suggamiin​

Genre: Werewolf Au (Jimin x Reader)   Part 1  Part 2

Rating:18+

Summary: It’s your birthday and well...you get treated. Sinful PWP to end this.

Word Count:3188

Warnings: Swearing,Smut - Slight exhibitionism, sex toys (cock ring) SUB Jimin... I repeat Sub Jimin.

Final Part!!!!! Loved this sooo much.

@safi4x​ @nerdygaloresposts​ @sockie-the-dumbass​ @jimin-75​

You were gratefully stolen from your nightmare of failing your end of year exams by the soothing scent of waffles. The glucose of the maple syrup powerful but tantalising to your drowsy senses. Dragging yourself from the comfort, you made a stumble to the kitchen area. A waffle sliding off the spatula onto the plate, his neck nudging his head into your newly emerged direction. You went to retrieve your fluffy dressing gown from the arm of a chair. His gaze briefly frozen on the curves of your behind feebly covered by the black lace hot pants teasing from under his shirt. The only skin available for your eyes to feast on was the occasional trail of veins running down his arms. Ripped denim skinnies sat over black and white vans, laces gleaming white. Red tee with the cutest pocket over his chest fitted and tucked into his leather belt. Heaven forbid he ever look scruffy to go out.

“Take a picture it lasts longer” you toyed covering the view and making your way over to him

“How many times have I asked you?” he countered serving the question straight back

“No, you’ve asked me if you can film us fucking, slight difference” your return bouncing the un-returnable ball in his court.

“Hey I’ve needed something while you’ve been busy revising and FINE! I’m asking now” He pulled you closer by your behind, hands having a firm squeeze for breakfast. You dodged his incoming kiss, leaning to the side to slide your finger through the maple syrup drizzled on your plate. His eyes frozen on the way your finger disappeared in your mouth and sucked on the digit he easily wished was his cock.

“I’m more hungry for actual food right now” You pecked him on the cheek kidnapping the plate from behind him.

“You’re insufferable when you tease you know that”

“You have your finals to focus on today”

“I know I know” His leather jacket sliding on his shoulders smooth as silk.

“Good luck”

“Happy Birthday baby” The drawn-out kiss on your forehead brought a beaming smile to your lips, insides heating up to a pleasant warm fuzz. Before he had the chance to straighten out your hands captured the back of his neck dragging him into a heated kiss which he fell weakly for.

“Remember to wear something nice for me later”

“As if I’d let you take me out in anything but. Can you not even give me a hint?”

“Nope”

You had no idea how dressy you needed to be.

Are we going out out or just just out?

//

Opting for as mid ‘out’ as you could you dug out your button front dress. The dress was belted with a silk tie, it stopped mid-thigh scooping slightly at the sides. The chest and long sleeves were laced in a pretty delicate floral pattern. Your hair was curled swooped over one shoulder and pinned. White hi-top converse snug on your feet.

Fuck heels, I need comfort

He rocked up at your door in black skinnies which were tight around his thighs.

Jesus lord mother of Mary

That alone could make your mouth hit the floor. The cotton fresh white v neck tugged tight into his gold buckled belt. The same leather jacket, silver zips scattered across in silver strips. Face bright, the concoction of exams going well and the reaction to the approved visuals of you.

“Ready?”

“Don’t I look ready?”

“I mean you look stunning but did you really have to wear something so easily taken off?”

“Is that a complaint?”

“More of a why do you have to be such a teasing bitch?” he chuckled as you swatted his arm.

//

He blindfolded you as soon as you got to his car.

//

You were cautious to your feet guided by Jimin until he ordered you to stop.

“Don’t move”

“Like I’m going to wander off” you shot back.

A click was the only thing reaching your ears. The smell of the room was familiar but your brain was too intrigued and giddy to bother working out why.

The blindfold fell from your face leaving only scrunched up eyebrows until the glint above you drew your attention. You were in the university library, the floor normally underneath tables had been pushed to the side, table legs flaying the air. It was astronomy week and the students had secured fairy lights to the ceiling in the shape of a star constellation. The blinds were shut, the fairy lights intermittently twinkling above you; like diamonds on a royals crown. He emerged from behind the desk with a wicker picnic basket and a rolled chequered blanket tucked under his arm. His sweet smile only subtly laced with triumph. Your gaze still fixed on the false sky.

“I know how comforting you find the library and how much of grump you get when your cold so didn’t want to take you out…”

“I love it!” you beamed nearly knocking the picnic basket from his grasp as you smothered him with a hug; his free hand steadying the influx of your weight against him.

“But If you haven’t got sausage rolls in there I will seriously reconsider our relationship” you teased plonking yourself down on the cleared floor atop the blanket.

“They were the first thing I picked up” he calmed.

//

“Ready for your present?”

“Mmmhmm” you hummed mouth full of scotch egg. Jimin fished out a small box from his pocket.

“Well open it. I’m not proposing” he beckoned after your stared at it for a moment too long.

“Jimin it’s beautiful” you cooed looking and the tear drop pendant weaved in your fingers. The outside ripples of silver, the main body was crystal clear, shimmering as you tilted your hands.

“Look closer” he urged. You did as you were told for once.

“How did you…?”

“You’d be surprised at who Yoongi has as contacts” he explained. Carved into the gem was the unmistakeably twizzled in swirls of patterns of haemoglobin. Something heavily involved in your thesis and wanted to specialise in in regards to how some viruses attack this area.

“I knew your nerd ass would love it and all jokes aside you give me so much life and I do feel sometimes you’re my oxygen that I need flooding through me to live” he paused.

“You know like haemoglobin”

“I’m more than aware of its function Jimin” you chuckled. He was sweet; the sweetness coaxed water to fill your eyes with none of it falling.

“I love you too you big softy” You were already clipping the chain around your neck. He lent over to you lips pressing hard into you. The other gift he’d presented was far less innocent.

“Are you planning on getting the strawberries and cream out or what?” you mouthed speaking into his kiss, lightly grappling at his bottom lip. The sucrose in the air was all too suffocating.

“Are you not sweet enough?” he teased failing to hold his cringe filled laugh. You lightly shoved his chase away from you.

“Get that cheese away pllleeaase” you begged. In order to maintain your dignity your leg was slightly bent and raised before you. Your thigh was more exposed but at least your underwear was covered.

//

“Oops” You shook your head, the cool cream conveniently dripping onto your thigh as Jimin fed you the last but one strawberry. As straight as his face was his true intention hadn’t been masked in his eyes.

“Well are you going to clear up your mess or not?”

“Well if you insist”

You planted both hands behind you leaning back, his warm tongue collecting the cool cream escaping down your thigh.

“I think you taste sweeter” he hummed, his tongue spanning his lips before disappearing back into his mouth. Your sudden movements caught him off guard. Enough to let you have advantage and push his weight back enough to fight yours to be on top. You scrunched his shirt up to his neck. Perfect olive skin. Muscles taught and firm under his skin. His eyes diligent in following the drips of cream pooling over his stomach, his muscles twitched at the temperature. The last strawberry dragged through the milky coating on his skin before half of it disappeared in your mouth.

“I think you do”

“Why don’t you come up over here so I can taste you again?” You were by no means going to say no but you were going to tease him until he pleaded for it. You stood, shimmying out of your underwear. His brows knitting together when you sat back down still over his hips and not his face.

“Don’t pout!” the buttons on the front of your dress one by one slowly became unhooked. His hands automatically resting firm on your hips after his hands quickly laid claim to your chest.

“I just thought I’d make myself that bit sweeter for you”

“And how do you think you can do that?” he challenged. He was too busy admiring your front he’d not seen your hands dip behind and retrieve the cream pot.

“Like this?” You watched the trail make its way down through the valley of your breasts running over your stomach to pool in between your thighs and run down his sides. His eyes now shifted to your core laced in creamy glucose.

“Fuck princess” he whined, those unstoppable flecks raging in his eyes.

“Get up here now!”

Excuse me?

Your expression clearly mirrored your thoughts

“Please” his tone so whiny compared to his last demand.

His purr vibrated at your core, cream smudging around his lips. The cat who definitely got the cream. Your hand flew to his tangle in his hair, the other flying out to secure yourself against the beech desk in front of you. Nail meeting the smooth surface with nothing to grip onto.

Your head dropped; his eyes were closed held together in the total ecstasy of you. Only when the moans started trickling from your lips did his eyes burn up hard into you. The more pressure he put against your core the less you were able to hold his clouded over fuelled red eyes. This boy could have you cumming on his tongue quicker than anyone else. Whether it was because he could hear your heartbeat or the whole essence thing made it more intense but it he could have you so damn quick. You knew he was taking his time; any other day you’d already be begging him for your third release already, easy. The torturous slow stripes he made with his tongue had the deep groans boiling in your throat.

“Please make me cum already” you whined tugging his hair, grabbing his attention to your face and not the feast he was making between your legs He’d kept you dancing on the edge for too long.

“Make yourself” he coaxed in between the breathes he was catching up on. It wasn’t a sarcastic comeback. Definitely not.

“Want me to ride that pretty face of yours?” current roles subtly switching.

“Mmmhmm” he hummed swiping your arousal from his lips with his tongue, eyes blown, completely fucked out. You breathed a ‘sigh’ with a jesting eye roll. You were inebriated, addicted to how he loved it when you used him to get off. He was equally to you using him. His head stayed docile, his tongue a podium still and stiff for you to take your prize. Both your hands now steadied against the desk, hips gyrating over him.

No longer would he dance you along the jagged edge of your release. You threw yourself off, all the weight of previous refusals crashing on top of you. You fell hard. Your head hung; exhausted for a moment before giving Jimin room to breathe.

“Does this hurt?” You teased palming his cock straining against the tight denim of his jeans. The hiss and chokes echoing in the room answering your questions with perfect clarity.

“Well we can’t have that”

“Go behind the desk” He did as he was told.

“Why have I never thought about fucking you over the library desk” He cursed himself.

“I never said you were going to fuck me” Swirling the new cock ring he’d bought for you round your finger.

“Guarantee you’ll need me to fuck you when you’ve finished toying with me”

He always fucking knows.

His top discarded, slung over the top of the desk that shielded you from the rest of the library. Your hands guiding themselves across the perfect sculpture of his back, nails purposely leaving red trails. The cool leather of his belt resting against your skin. The front of his jeans pulled down his cock strained with the ring. Gargled moans and pants disrupting the calm of the library each time you hand gripped and moved.

“Going to beg yet?”

“No..o” Your hand snaked up his back, hair taught in your wrists.

“How about now? You breathed dangerously close to his ear, back arching in a crescent obediently to you. Vibration now throbbing through his already painful member. Neck strained, unrestrained grunts bobbing his adams apple. He blissfully regretted the present he got for you already; not too much though.

“Fuck” he whined, restraint and control leaking from his voice.

“Okay okay” Tolerance snapping as you your hands stroked him in a torturous slow movement

You stopped, pushed the power switch on the ring. Straightening yourself. Hands staying where the stilled; a potential threat if his words were not satisfactory.

He took whatever breath he could into his lungs, knuckles white gripped on the table.

“Pleeease let me fuck you, please let me cum mmm…. hand, mouth I don’t care” His arms struggled not to buckle, desperation thick through his strength.

“Are you that desperate that you don’t even care anymore?” Your thumb glazing over the end of his cock.

“Jesus…yes” his voice breaking in sync with his cracked resolve. With him facing the front you could only see his jaw tensing up, the side of his eyes straining to stay open.

“Are you that desperate that you don’t even want to make me cum before you?”

“mmm…No!”

Correct answer!

“Good boy” you praised

“Now I’m going to turn this back on and you’re going to wait until I allow you to cum. You’ve got to fuck me now. I’m dying to have you inside me”

Unanimous profanities bubbled into the room; bodies finally entwined. You both stilled, him fully inside you. Everything just felt too good. Senses overwhelmed with sweet sensations. Your arms crossed at the back of his neck fingertips tight to his skin. The perspiration glazing his forehead mingling with yours. Both looking down to where you connected.

“Ready?” asking and clenching around him at the time had him pinning his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Mmm” he breathed breathing through your torturous tensing.

“Words” you lightly scolded clenching again. His throat bobbed tense.

“Yes” he finally managed.

The throbbing vibrations resumed through him. The patch on top of the ring now vibrated through your clit each time he jolted his hips into you. His laboured breathing indicative of him holding back, funnelling control in his movements. Hot air swirling between you. Your head incapable of moving against the firm hand keeping your head with his. The muscles in your legs tensing, verging on cramping with how tight they gripped at his waist keeping the vibrations on you as much as possible. His bucks sudden and precise, enough apart that he can just about hold onto himself.

“Fuck, please give… it up to…” He was desperate, he needed you to cum so badly so you would show mercy on him.

“Hold it” you ordered. He whimpered, uncertain of his ability to do as he was told. His head drooped to the nook of your neck teeth latching on in a weak attempt to transfer some of the frustration and distraction somewhere else. He choked when your legs locked and pulled him as close as humanly possible. His restricted movement gave you the control to circle your hips around him directing the vibrations in the rhythm you needed. His hot breathes became jagged, fanning across the front of your shoulder.

“Count to 3 then cum for me baby” You panted.

“1” his hips snapped once.

“2” you clenched around him, controlling your muscles not to give. His moans stuttered.

“3” the count was almost breathless; almost devoid of sound. You arched into him shoving the vibrating pack back harsh against your clit, tightening around him again.

Swear words groaned out of his mouth, your core pulsing around him in waves washing you with serotonin. The rush of exaggerated senses never stopped overwhelming you too see white spots shadowing your visions. Sex with your essence was ridiculously other worldly; normal sex now completely transcended. You viced onto his body until his hips finished jerking.

Ugh! No condom, going to be an uncomfortable trip home. But..

“Jesus you’re going to kill me” he panted as you tapped at his hips

Move back

Powering down the ring, slipping it off with a grunt from him.

“Well you got me this remember so really you’ve done yourself in” Your index fingertip beckoning a hot soft kiss to your lips.

“I want one more thing from you baby”

“Anything” he confessed popping the buttons of his jeans back into looking decent.

“I’m not making my way home with your mess dripping out of me. Clean it up” You couldn’t decide who donned the filthier smirk Jimin or you. Within a beat he was on his knees, tugging a leg over his shoulder. Hurrying your hands behind you stabilising yourself from cracking your head on the top level of the desk. A gargled groan eliciting from the flicks of his tongue, the sensitive nub quietly welcoming the soft warm strokes. When his motions became less focused on collecting and began to circle more at your clit you gripped and yanked his hair.

Fuck, he looks sweet

“Look at you with your own cum glistening on your chin…so sexy” The visual pulled at the recovering coils in your core; but the light smile on your face slowly erupted into a small laugh. In retaliation he bounced up forcing an unbalancing harsh kiss. Transferring the chimera of your climaxes to your lips. You fingers teasing your buttons at the front of your dress closed, away from the already wandering eyes of Jimin.

“You taste so good mixed with me” He purred burying into your neck inhaling the after sex intoxicating scent he swooned for.

“Stop talking like that or I’ll wanna fuck you again” you warned. He burrowed further hands tightening at your hips

“And?” he countered

“I’d much rather you take me back home so I can do it with YOUR new favourite toy”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” His body remembering how hard he came with the new purple strap on you loved torturing him with.

“Having you in tears begging for me to go harder is all the present I need”

[crowleyellestair]

Hey dear!! How are you doing? Are you feeling any pain? I had all my wisdom teeth removed last year and the first day wasn’t good, but after that it was okay, but my jaw was swollen for a while tho. I wish you a smooth recovery!! You asked for requests, so I was thinking about this: reader travels with geralt and jaskier. Mutual pining between she and geralt, but they still haven’t confessed their feelings. They go to a ball and Yen is there (1/2)

AN/// Sorry this is so late; I have a post explaining everything and how it wasn’t as smooth as both of us hoped. This is a great prompt, and thank you so much for the kind words. I was excited to write this! It’s a little longer, but I hope that makes up for the wait.

  Lights blurred together and she didn’t try to blink them into focus, her mind too busy in stealing itself. Y/n was well aware Yen could read her mind at any moment, and she could let herself wander into emotional territory. Instead, she focused on how loud the room was, and how it made her head pound. Voices mixed together, none distinguishable at this point. She was sure that if she focused, she could make out the conversation between Yen and Geralt that unfolded right in front of her, but that was risky business. She could never look at the witcher without her heart racing, love grasping every part of her being.

Feet stomped across the dancefloor, drowning out her friend’s playing, though if the small trio they sported wasn’t at the other end of the room, she might be able to hear it better. The room was hot, despite the cool night. She struggled to keep the empty glass clinched between her fingers as she started to sweat. It had been years since she had worn a dress, the extra fabric not helping. Y/n tried not to sway as the heels of her shoes started to make her feet hurt. Jaskier had helped her create the outfit, and she started to regret not insisting the flat shoes she had mentioned at the beginning of the process.

People moved around them, their figures blurring along with the lights. Their forms making the room even louder, warmer. Her knees were locked, but she could only focus on keeping her mind shut. Yen was a powerful woman, and it is intimidating- you’d be a fool to think otherwise. It was hard for the woman not to compare herself to the sorceress in the moment, especially since she’d been doing it since they first met years ago.

“Y/n?” Her eyes snapped into focus as her name was called. She looked between the two sets of eyes staring at her. Violet ones, filled with amusement, and molten gold, filled with what she could only hope was concern. She cleared her throat, looking down to her glass.

“I’m… going to get fresh air.” The woman gave a curt nod, mainly for herself in agreement, and walked away, still feeling both gazes on her back. Everything continued to blend together until she finally made it onto the balcony. Y/n started to gasp, a hand going to the tightened bodice. The other grasped the railing and her eyes had to blink away tears.

There was so much hope built for the night. After Jaskier was asked to play at the party, the two spent the whole day preparing. Jaskier for his show, and Y/n had prepared to simply ride along until the bard insisted tonight was the night. He had been along for the ride for half a decade in the adventure that was her infatuation with the witcher. Everything from her hair to the dress was tailored special, all with the help of the bard. While at first she had been against it, not wanting to risk years of friendship, she had caved. Though, it had all been thrown away once golden eyes found violet. Geralt had been what she could only call giddy, and he’d been posted by the sorceress’s side since. And it hurt.

Y/n was the one who was always there, defending him, representing him and loving him. Of course, he had never asked for any of that, but she had given it. It was only three nights ago where they had sat in comfortable silence under the same stars she looked to now. It was a normalcy for them, as she always stayed up when he woke from nightmares. It had been a busy day then, filled with brewing potions and decoctions, as Geralt trusted her with certain recipes to help out. The woman could remember the first time he taught them to her, and the small, timid smile he gave. He mentioned how his teacher would be furious if he found out Geralt gave away ‘witcher secrets’, but he knew the knowledge would be safe with her. It was small moments like that that made her fall for him, and had her convinced he felt the same.

But it always comes down to Yen. Y/n always convinces herself once more that he feels the same until the sorceress glides back into their lives. Y/n never spoke of Yen and her assumptions or questions, though she knew Jaskier caught on to her envy. Anytime the bard would try and sooth her worries, she would change the subject, the would-be truth too hard to face. However, tonight was the night. It was all or nothing. The trio had travelled close enough to her hometown, so if he had rejected her, she would be able to slip away easily. She felt somewhat guilty about planning to leave. She hadn’t told Jaskier about her plan upon rejection, and she knew Roach would be raw about it too. The witcher once had said how frustrating it was, knowing Roach loved her more. The mare would always take her side when fights happened, never letting her usual rider on, no matter how frustrating it was for him. Geralt was particular, however, and she wouldn’t dare overuse her stay among the party if he didn’t feel the same.

Y/n was lost in thought, even as someone approached, which was uncommon for her. She was on autopilot when she responded to the thrown-out phrase,

“Doth my eyes deceive me?”

“Probably, I’m blind.” Her tone was quiet compared to the excited baritone who initiated, though excitement flooded through her as realization dawned. She turned around quickly, a smile gracing her for the first time since arriving at the party. Before her was her childhood friend, who stayed by her side until she left with the witcher and bard. “Felix!” He gave a smile in return, giving a sarcastic bow before opening his arms. The embrace was warm and a great change of pace. They parted, though he kept an olive toned hand on her shoulder.

“Y/n, it’s great to see you. It’s been, what, half a decade? At some point I started to wonder if you were simply an imaginary friend.” She laughed, and his smile grew.

“Well, you are crazy enough for that to be in the realm of possibility.”

“Exactly, that’s why I was worried.” Again, they both laughed, making their way to the balcony. His hand dropped, though his arm rubbed against hers as they stared out into the night sky. “I’m surprised you’re back. And at a party, no less.” The woman shrugged, trusting him, though not wanting to give too much away.

“The entertainment tonight is a good friend. We travel together, and I came to support him.” It wasn’t necessarily a lie, but too much time has passed to tell the whole truth. While Felix had been supportive of her leaving, she remembers how warry he was of the witcher.

“Well, I’m glad. It’s great to see you.” There was no response, though there was something she wanted to say. She wanted to apologize for leaving him, knowing he wanted to break out of the town just as much as she had. But he was a noble’s son, he couldn’t come with.

“How’s the family,” was all she could come up with. Y/n practically flinched at her own inquiry, knowing that everything was muddled with her at the moment. They were close, though she never felt how she did with Geralt. She was never in love. Childhood infatuation, maybe, but she knew she couldn’t be with Felix. Everyone in town knew the brunette next to her wanted to ask for her hand, but she left the first moment she could.

“Fine. Can’t complain, I guess. The estate is good too. I should be taking over in the next year or so.” She nodded, not really knowing how to get out what she wanted to say. Her mind kept reeling back to Geralt and Yen, and what they would be up to, and it ate away at her. “Are you staying or passing through?”

“Oh, uh…just passing. Or maybe staying. I’m not entirely sure yet.” They stood in silence for a moment before Felix knocked against the railing. He turned to face her, giving a small smile.

“Well, could I ask for a dance?” Y/n opened her mouth to decline before he dropped his head, peering at her through thick lashes. “Just as a farewell dance. Or maybe a welcome back dance, if you do decide to stay.” Her mouth shut, and she looked to her hands. The only people she’d be hurting by saying no where Felix and herself. Geralt seemed pretty preoccupied at the moment anyways. She looked back up with a smile, agreeing.

Arm and arm they moved to the dance floor, Y/n trying to block out years of secret smiles the witcher had given her. The sharing of warmth at night when it was only a little chilly. The brushed knuckles as they walked side by side. Mornings and nights spent attached at the hips in perfect contentment. His broken compliments given to her, and his flustered brooding that followed. Fingers lingering a little too long on skin when tending to injured areas. Personal secrets shared over liters of ale. All of it had to be steeled away.

Hands found hands, shoulders and hips. Her eyes found Jaskier’s confused gaze, but she brushed him off, trying to make Felix the subject of the moment. And after a while, he was. After stepping on his feet, and bumping into other couples, the two lost time, smiling and laughing the whole way. Felix had asked for one dance, but they spent more than three together. All of them were upbeat, and they both were out of breath. It seemed Jaskier finally needed a break, slower strums filling the air. Felix stared down at his old friend; a large smile spread over his visage. He started to lean in, when a low gruff was heard behind her. Y/n’s eyes widened, knowing the huff anywhere, turning in Felix’s arms to find Geralt, standing very uncomfortably in the middle of the floor. If Y/n wasn’t so engrossed in the amber eyes in front of her, she would have noted that Jaskier’s lyrics were supposed to come in two measures ago. Th bard seemingly also entranced by the scene before him. Blue eyes found violet, and she gave a smirk, suggesting this was her idea.

“Geralt, what are you doing here?” He cleared his throat, looking away for a moment before looking at her skirt.

“We came here together.” It took a moment, but Y/n let out a small snort, something she only did with him. Usually she kept up appearances, even with her laugh, though she always herself with him. Even now, she couldn’t think of Yen or Felix. Only the witcher she adored.

“I meant on the dance floor.” HE gave a curt nod, closing his eyes, almost as if readying himself.

“To ask you to dance.” The witcher glared at the ceiling when she took a moment to process what he had just said.

“Me? To…dance? What about Yennefer?” Geralt’s brow raised as his eyes met hers.

“What about Yen?”

“Well… weren’t you two conversing? You seemed pretty engrossed.” His eyes flew over her shoulder to find said woman smiling. The sorceress had said Y/n would say something like that. It was among the many things she said would be spoken, among things like a confession, to which he had scoffed at. Though Yen was heavy set on Geralt asking her to dance. The two had a relationship once, though it turned to an easy friendship after realizing it wouldn’t work out. Mainly because, despite the djinn entangling their futures, Geralt’s heart belonged to Y/n. The wolf shrugged, not knowing how to continue. Though he started to glare once more, and Y/n followed his glare over her shoulder to Felix. Guilt started to eat away, but he spoke up before she could say anything.

“It was great to see you again, Y/n.” He bowed his head before disappearing into the crowd. He turned back to the witcher, who looked more uncomfortable than when he arrived. His jaw was tight, but he stepped closer, eyes still looking to where Felix disappeared before seemingly scolding himself.

“I’m sorry.” Her heart dropped, thinking he already knew of her affections. That he would reject her before she could even ask. She too cleared her throat, not being able to meet his gaze either.

“For what?”

“He seemed nice.” Her brow raised before she met amber again.

“Felix was a childhood friend. He holds title at an estate not too far from here. It was nice to see him again, though he surely has other people to rub elbows with here.” They stood in silence as couples floated around them.

“So…dance?” Y/n perked up, stumbling over herself.

“Yes! Dance. Love to dance. I mean- I would love to dance. With you.” His hands found her hips and her hands found his shoulders. His eyes couldn’t stop roaming over her face, and a flush broke over her cheeks. “I have to admit though, I don’t really know how to dance. No matter how slow.” He nodded for a moment before looking into her eyes.

“Stand on my feet.” Her brow rose, and again his gaze found the floor. “Dancing was apart of training. You need to be able to be as graceful as the creature you’re going against.” Tepidly, she stood on his boots, and he started to flow with the music. She didn’t realize it, but her hands had curled into the white locks that rested over the back of his neck. His thumbs pressed into her waist, and they got lost in each other’s gazes. Jaskier must have been keeping a watchful eye as he played a second slow song. This was it. Now or never.

“Geralt, I… We’ve… wow, this was way better when I practiced earlier.”

“I remember you saying that you never practice.”

“Yes, well,” a small smile broke out on her face. “This was something that I thought needed it. It’s very important.” She took a long inhale before looking to the neck that was straight in front of her. Maybe if she isn’t looking into those intense eyes, it would make things easier. “Geralt, you are important. To me. You have been for the past five years. But, more than a friend. I know that this jeopardize everything, and I’ll leave if you want me to but-.”

“I’d never ask you to leave. Do you want to leave?” Her eyes found his again, and sadness turned the amber to liquid.

“N-no! I meant that if you’re uncomfortable with my affections towards you, that I would leave. I wouldn’t want to make you suffer with someone you don’t want to be around.”

“Your affections towards me?”

“Yeah. I… Geralt, I have come to love you.” Y/n let her eyes close, and her head fall. Geralt’s movements had stopped, except for his hand that cupped the joint of her neck.

“I can’t promise to know what love is, but I’m certain that this is what I think it feels like. I know I can’t… express things, but I know that I care for you more than I’ve cared for anyone before.” Wide eyes met his own, and he could feel his heart pounding out of his chest. “If you would have me.”

“Yes. Yes, of course I would.” He started to lean down, trying to give her time to back out, despite professing her own love. Geralt was aware how difficult he was at times, but he also knew that she was a rare happiness in his life. His heart seemed to be at a normal human rate whenever she’s near. Her scent had become something he was addicted to. Waking up without her aroma became foreign, and unwelcome. Her soft, caring gaze was something he saw whenever his eyes closed.

Their lips connected, noses brushing against each other. The witcher seemed timid, Y/n pushing into it further to show she wanted it. Wanted him. To have and to hold, till death do they part.

[trulymadlysydney]

Somewhere In Time: Four

“Sometimes when I look at you, I feel I'm gazing at a distant star. It's dazzling, but the light is from tens of thousands of years ago. Maybe the star doesn't even exist any more. Yet sometimes that light seems more real to me than anything.” 

― Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun

Previous Chapters HERE

tw: Death, Loss of Parent

***Please Do Not Repost Without Permission***

12:02pm, October 5th, 1989

“Uhh, earth to Roni.”

A shrill voice followed by a few obnoxiously bubbly giggles brings fifteen year old Roni out of her own mind, and she looks up with a hot face. She uses a finger to push her thick-rimmed glasses up her nose, but she knows the voice before she even sees who it belongs to.

Lainey Prescott, one grade above Roni and just about the bane Roni’s existence.

She stands no taller than Roni, her two best friends Olivia and Janet standing on either side of her like her little minions. With their matching pink fingernails and Pom Pom hair accessories, they look like little clones. Roni has to fight the urge to roll her eyes.

This happens nearly every day during free period. They come up to bother her, get their little digs in wherever they can, and then continue walking their laps around the track because they’re “working on their figures.”  Roni has tried everything to put an end to it, even going so far as to sit in the dirt under the bleachers, but they’ve always ended up finding her. So now Roni sits out in the open, expecting it almost every day and thanking her lucky stars when it doesn’t happen.

“Hi, Lainey,” she mutters.

“Hey, super cute high-waters today, Ron!” Olivia and Janet snicker behind Lainey, who looks incredibly pleased with herself.  “Whatcha reading?”

Roni sticks her finger between the pages of her book to mark her place and averts her gaze, ears growing hot. “Nothing.”

Olivia speaks up. “I bet it’s another one of those sci-fi books. We all know she gets off on weird shit like that.”

Olivia’s words feel like a blow to the chest, but Roni keeps her composure and swallows around a lump in her throat. Lainey doesn’t seem to notice when she nudges Roni’s sneaker with her sandal. “No seriously, what is it? Looks cool.”

Roni looks up sheepishly. “Do you really care?”

“Totally, babe.”

Roni lets out a sigh, somehow taking the bait.  “It’s called Timescape,” she explains.  “It’s set in two different time periods: the sixties, and the nineties.”

“Wow,” Lainey says,  “The future.  So cool.”

Roni licks her lips in hesitation before continuing.  “Anyway so, everything in the nineties goes wrong, and this scientist guy is  trying to contact the past so that he can prevent whats happening and essentially stop it in its tracks.”

Roni hears Janet mutter an “oh my GOD, so like time traveling? ” to a ridiculously giggly Olivia, but Lainey doesn’t acknowledge them. She instead raises her eyebrows. “Wow, tell me more, Ron.”

Now Roni knows for a fact that the girls are making fun of her, and she’s about to say something when Lainey adds, “I mean, it must be super interesting. You’ve been sitting over here reading out loud to yourself. Did you know you did that?”  She laughs over her shoulder with the other girls before continuing. “It’s adorbs.  I’m sure any guy would find that super cute.”

“Lainey—“

Lainey cuts Roni off, as if this thought has just occurred to her. “Hey, speaking of, you don’t have a boyfriend yet, right?”

Roni sighs. “I don’t.”

You know I don’t, asshole.

Lainey giggles. “Awww, it’s okay, I figured as much. But listen, my parents are out of town this weekend and I’m throwing a party. It’s gonna be a boy-girl party, and you’re invited. I’m sure we could find you a guy there.”

“Yeah,” Janet adds, “and it’s BYOB. Bring your own Book.” Her stupid joke coaxes a cackle our of Olivia, and Roni rolls her eyes.

It wasn’t even that clever.

“Yeah, you can show us all your super cool time traveling tricks.” Olivia snickers. “Or at least spew out more time traveling facts. That’ll be a hit.”

Lainey smirks. “Totally. You should come.”

What Roni wants to do is tell them to fuck off. She wants to tackle them to the ground, rip the pom poms out of their hair and shove them down their throats until they’re all blue in the face. But she can’t do that, because there’s more of them than there is of her, and frankly they scare her.

So she clears her throat.  “Guys, I don’t think—“

“Oh come on,” Janet groans. “What, do you have to ask your mommy for permission?”

Roni’s heart stops the moment the words leave her mouth, and even Lainey and Olivia shoot Janet an incredulous look, as if even they can’t believe she’s just said that.

Janet looks back at them, completely oblivious. “What?! You know she probably does.”

“Janet,” Olivia says quietly, “you know her mom died.”

Roni doesn’t know why people do that; say “died” around her like it’s a filthy word.   She’s noticed that everyone does it, including her own grandmother, and it makes her feel sick to her stomach every time.

Janet’s mouth forms a wide O shape as the realization dawns on her. “Oooooohhhh. Shit. My bad. But she doesn’t care.” She turns back to Roni. “You don’t care, right? Like, you know we’re just joking around.”

Roni feels her eyes welling with tears and she wills them to stop, please stop— at least until the girls walk away.

“Please leave me alone,” is all she manages to say.

Lainey’s perfect smile returns to her face, only far more nervous than before, and Roni can tell she’s trying to do damage control. “So anyway.”  She glares at Janet before smiling sweetly. “The offer still stands. You better be there, girl.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Roni mumbles at the ground, vision now completely blurred with tears.

“Sweet! Catch ya on the flip side.”  Lainey waves her perfectly manicured fingers in Roni’s direction before she and her minions turn on their heels— each executing a perfect hair flip as they proceed on their way.

When she’s sure they’re out of ear shot, Roni lets out a quiet sob, reaching up to rub at her runny nose with the back of her sleeve. How girls can be so cruel, she’ll never know. But these three in particular have tormented her since elementary school, and it’s exhausting.

She doesn’t know why they do it. Why they can’t just leave her alone.  She’d never spoken a word  to any of them before it began, always minded her own business, and still they were relentless. Even after her mother passed, they kept it going. In fact, it almost seemed to get worse.

But Roni is not about to let them see her cry. Not today.  So she stands, flings her backpack over her shoulder, and walks off.

She doesn’t have a destination in mind, all she knows is that she needs to get far enough away from them as possible— even if that means hiding out in the girl’s bathroom until the end of free period (Which she’s also tried doing before. It didn’t work. They always found her).

She makes her way back into the building, heading straight for her locker.  The halls are surprisingly quiet, which doesn’t surprise Roni.  It’s a gorgeous day out.  That was the whole reason she was even outside in the first place. But then Lainey and her friends had to go ruin it, and now Roni isn’t even sure what else to do except grab some things from her locker and wander aimlessly for the next thirty minutes.

Roni rounds the corner and nearly bumps into someone exiting the boy’s bathroom. She’s about to say something snarky when she realizes who it is.

Staring back at her with an apologetic smile lighting up his entire face, is Oliver Ward.

Oliver is one of her friends, she guesses.  A grade older than her, he’s not exactly considered popular but he has more friends in general than Roni does.  She doesn’t talk to him as much as she should, despite the fact that he’s always treated her with more kindness than most people at this school.  He softens once he recognizes the person he’d nearly taken out.

“Roni! Hey!”

Roni reaches up to wipe at her nose and half-heartedly reciprocates his smile.  “Hey.”  It comes out rather unenthusiastically, and she diverts her gaze from his. She doesn’t mean to come across as so pathetic, and she definitely doesn’t want him to know that anything is wrong.  But the way his face falls when he hears her response lets her know that he is most definitely on to her.

“Have you been crying?”  His question is right to the point, and it makes Roni want to start crying all over again.

“No,” she lies.

“You have,” he says, his voice softening.  “What happened?”

Roni knows there’s no use lying to him, so she shrugs.  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

Oliver scowls.  He knows what that means.  “Did Lainey do something shitty again?”

Finally,  Roni looks up and gives Oliver a weak nod.  “I don’t know why she won’t just leave me alone,” she admits.  “I leave her alone.”

“Oh, Ron,” Oliver coos.  “Fuck her. Why don’t you tell someone?”

Roni shrugs again.  “That would do more bad than good, Ollie, you know that.”

Oliver tries his hardest not to smile at the nickname she’s given him.   Nobody’s called him Ollie since the first grade, and he doesn’t have the heart to tell her that he’s always hated it.  Because for some reason, when she says it, he doesn’t hate it at all.

“I dunno,” Oliver says.  “It might finally put an end to her shit.”  He nods his head towards her.  “Where were you headed?”

Roni sniffs pathetically.  “Anywhere.  Just trying to kill time I guess.”

Oliver smiles.  “You can come with me!  I was just gonna finish up some homework in the library, so I don’t know how interesting it’s gonna be.  But at least you’ll have some company!”

Roni eyes Oliver, weighing her options.  On the one hand, she doesn’t want to tag along; be his little sidekick while he finishes up his work.  The last thing she wants is for him to feel the need to entertain her.  But on the other hand, she figures it’s better than moping around without any direction feeling sorry for herself. And besides, the way Oliver grins at her so full of hope and light, makes it hard to resist.

So Roni giggles and nods.  “Okay.”

“Cool.”  Oliver beams, nodding over his shoulder to signal Roni to follow him.  As they begin walking, he launches right into casual conversation.  “So, what’cha reading?”

Oliver is the kind of person who can hold a conversation with just about anyone and make it feel completely natural.  Roni hasn’t talked to him too many times, but each time she does, she thanks her lucky stars that he’s so good at keeping conversation going because otherwise she knows they would be screwed.

However, her ego is still a bit bruised from Lainey’s words, and she’s not too keen on sharing any more information about this book with anyone else.  “It’s nothing.”

“What?  It looks really cool.  What’s it called?”

Roni can feel her cheeks growing hot, and she refuses to look at Oliver when she answers him.  “Timescape.”

“Ooooh!  That sounds cool.  Is it about time?”  Not a hint of sarcasm is attached to his words, and although Roni can’t see his face she knows he’s genuinely interested.  The thought lifts her spirits just the tiniest bit.

“Kinda,” Roni says.  “It’s like, time travel stuff.  Someone in the future is trying to go back and warn people in the past about like, these catastrophic events happening in the world.  It’s actually really cool.”

Oliver whistles.  “No kidding! That sounds rad.”  They round the corner and open the large doors into the school library.  Oliver lowers his voice as they make their way to a small round table with empty seats.  “Think I could borrow it when you’re done?”

Roni nearly stops walking.  “Are you serious?”

“Yeah!”  Oliver smiles at her, slinging his backpack off of his shoulders and onto the table.  “Hell yeah.  I’d love to read it.”

Roni realizes she’s been smiling because her cheeks ache, and she tucks her bottom lip between her teeth to hide it.  She clears her throat.  “I mean yeah, if you want to.”

“Sweet!” Oliver starts unloading the contents of his backpack before pausing and looking back at Roni.  “I mean like, no rush or anything.  Finish it on your own terms.  Don’t like, freak out trying to get it to me.”  Roni notices the slight red tint to the tips of Oliver’s ears, and for some reason it’s beyond endearing.  She giggles, taking her seat beside Oliver.  

“Don’t worry, I’m a fast reader anyway.”

Oliver smiles, seemingly relieved.  “Well that’s good.”

There’s a silence that doesn’t necessarily feel awkward, but it’s charged, and now it’s Olilver’s turn to clear his throat.  He turns his attention to the textbook in front of him, opening it up and flipping through to find a specific page.  He effectively changes the subject, but it feels more like a bookmark has been placed on the tension that Roni just experienced.  She doesn’t necessarily hate it, she’s just never felt it before.  Not with Oliver Ward.

“So anyway,” he says,  “Are you any good at chemistry?  I’ve been stuck on this one problem for ages.”  

-----

8:19am, January 2nd, 1925

Roni wakes earlier today, refreshed and optimistic after spending a good bit of the previous night dancing and laughing with Harry.  She feels much more at peace and surprisingly less disappointed to wake up in 1925 than she was yesterday. In fact, she’s optimistic at the prospect of what today might hold, and she’s feeling thankful that she’s here with Harry instead of with any other guy. She does however, feel a pang of guilt at the fact that she’s made Harry spend yet another night on his couch.  She decides she’s going to work something out with him; maybe they switch off the bed every other night she’s here-- for however long that may be.

With a long stretch that cracks her entire body,  she rolls out of bed-- careful not to move too quickly since she’s already seeing stars.  She adjusts Harry’s boxers around her waist, combing her hand through her hair and preparing herself to find Harry cooking breakfast again. Maybe she can even help him. She smiles to herself at the thought.

Roni tries not to think about last night. How good it felt being so close to Harry, and how wonderful he had smelled.  She refuses to acknowledge the tension that had singed the air, the way he’d watched her and clung to her every move, and the way he’d laughed not at her, but with her.  The night had been Roni’s first taste of normalcy in the past few days, and she’s beyond grateful to Harry for making that a possibility-- tension or not.

The closer to the door she gets, however, she notices she doesn’t smell or hear anything. In fact, it sounds almost completely silent in the other room. Harry hadn’t mentioned having to work today.

That’s odd.

She pushes the door open as quietly as possible , deciding that Harry must still be asleep. She doesn’t want to bother him and she figures she can sneak a shower in before he wakes up— effectively minimizing any awkward encounters that involve her in a towel.

And then she sees it.

Roni stops dead in her tracks at the sight before her. There’s Harry, splayed out and sitting so ungracefully-- legs spread wide and toes curling into the carpet beneath the pooling fabric of his trousers, and a hand wrapped tightly around his cock.

His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth, eyes closed in concentration as his hand pumps up and down, slower towards the bottom of his shaft and more rapid jerks of his wrist the higher up he gets.  When Roni hears him muttering a curse word under his breath, her blood runs cold.

She can’t help herself. It feels like a train wreck or some other disaster that she can’t help but watch.  He’s so much longer than she would have guessed. Not that she’d given it any thought in the past few days, because truth be told she really hadn’t.  If she’d had to guess, she probably would’ve at least been a bit generous with her assumptions, sure, but never this generous. He’s so well endowed she can’t tell if she wants to drool over it or just shake his hand and congratulate him.

The whole vision is just so… beautiful in an odd way, and Roni’s mouth waters when she spares a thought for what he must taste like.

Get it together, Roni. Fuck.

She turns to head back into the bedroom to leave him to it, but her ears perk when she hears him mutter another curse word and a few other filthy things that he would probably say if he were fucking up into someone.

No fucking way.

She’s not doing this right now. There’s no way she’s going to indulge in any of this, and she knows she really needs to close the door and get back in bed. Never mind the fact that she’d had the same idea as Harry last night once she’d gotten in bed, and had to physically stop herself from doing anything to ease the dull ache and wetness between her legs.  She’d settled on squeezing her thighs together every now and then to see if that would relieve any pressure (it didn’t) and had simply gone to bed telling herself she was absolutely batshit crazy.

She wasn’t going to get herself off in this boy’s bed, and she certainly wasn’t going to entertain any crazy fever dream fantasies about him either.

But now here he is, doing the exact same thing that she’d been so tempted to do, whimpering out what sounds like maybe the filthiest dirty talk she’s ever heard, and she feels like she’s going to pass out.

Harry’s head falls back against the couch, and his eyes flutter closed as an almost inaudible sigh passes his wet lips.  “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he mumbles.  “Soaked for me, aren’t you?”

Does this happen often?  Who is he thinking of?  Who, in his mind, is fucking him so good that he’s practically crying alone on his couch?  Roni feels a brief pang of jealousy followed by guilt and a mental slap to the face to remind herself to get it the fuck together.

Roni allows herself a few more moments to watch him tease himself, watching his swollen cock drip with his pre-cum, and she can’t help but to lick her lips when she sees the way his lips curl around his teeth. With eyebrows furrowed, Harry slaps a hand across his mouth to mute his pitiful whimpers.  He’s close, and Roni decides that now is as good a time as any to go back into the bedroom and grant him his privacy.

Silently closing the door behind her, Roni lets out all of her air in one long exhale and stares at the wall opposite her.  Try as she might (or might not), she can’t get the image out of her brain.  How is she supposed to face him later? Is this even something she should bring up? How would she even start that conversation? And what kind of response would that warrant from him? Surely he’d think she was snooping, and probably be mad at her for invading his privacy.

Roni presses the heels of her palms to her eyes, willing the image of him getting himself off to completely exit her brain.  She takes a few minutes to breathe, pacing around the room to get this strangely nervous energy out of her system, before sitting down on the bed with another long sigh.  She knows she’s got no choice but to wait it out now, and for some reason it makes her anxiety a million times worse than it was before.

It’s a few minutes later when Roni hears the bathroom door close, and finally she feels brave enough to make her way back into the living room of the apartment.  She moves slowly, still, as if afraid to make too much noise, and bites at her lip as she makes her way into the quiet room.

No one would ever guess that the events of a few minutes ago had even occurred.  The couch looks completely untouched, the little blanket Harry’s been using at night folded up and slung neaty across the arm.  The air does feel unmistakably hotter in here (or maybe that’s just Roni), but otherwise everything is perfectly still and normal.

She makes her way unsurely into the kitchen.  Should she make herself at home and start cooking?  It would be a nice gesture on her part, and a somewhat wordless apology for the slight invasion of privacy.  Even if she wasn’t outright apologizing, it would definitely clear her conscience.

Roni reaches up to open one of the cabinets to see if there’s anything available to make for breakfast.  It blows her mind that Harry doesn’t have a simple pantry in his apartment, although she’s not even sure a pantry would fit given the size of the place.

She frowns when she’s met with stacks of plates behind the cabinet door.  Where the hell does Harry keep his food anyway?

The refrigerator in the corner of the kitchen is no bigger than a box, and when she opens it she’s met with even less food than she’d been expecting.  Does Harry even eat?

“Oh! Morning!”

Roni turns with a start when she hears Harry’s pleasant greeting, his tone now a stark contrast to the desperate whimper it was just minutes ago.  Roni’s entire body shivers at the memory.

“Hey!” she greets as normally as possible. “Morning.”

Harry walks over to pour himself a glass of water.  “Sleep alright?”

“M-hm!”  Does he know that she knows?

“That’s good.”  Harry smiles, completely innocent.  “You’re up earlier this morning.  Did I wake you?”

“What?”  It takes Roni a moment to realize he’s not referring to that, and she laughs nervously.  “Oh, no, you’re good.  Just like, my natural clock I guess.”

“You’re getting more used to being here.”  Harry grins.  “Wonderful.”

Roni smiles at him a tick too long, and she turns her attention to the cupboards.  “Anyway,” she says,  “Can I help with breakfast?”

“You don’t have to do that!”

“I want to!”

“You’re a guest.”

Roni shrugs.  “Not really.  Not anymore.  I told you I’ve gotta earn my keep around here.”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head at her.  “Alright.”  He blows his messy morning hair off of his face and glances around the kitchen, pondering what to even suggest. “Well, I haven’t got much.”

“Eggs are fine again!” Roni suggests, before a thought pops into her mind.  “Actually, got anything to make pancakes?”

Harry beams.  “I think I do.”

“Perfect! Pancakes are my specialty.”

Roni and Harry set to work then, falling comfortably into step side by side as they weave their way around the kitchen.  They launch immediately into conversation as they work, and it all feels so disgustingly domestic and comfortable that Roni almost forgets there’s anything abnormal about her situation. (She also temporarily forgets what she just saw on the couch minutes ago, although every time she catches a glimpse of his hand she is so painfully reminded.)  They discuss buying Roni new clothes, since she is going to be here for the foreseeable future, and Roni asks several questions about what to expect when entering the roaring 20s.  Harry answers her, “lots of lions” and when she doesn’t understand right away, he giggles through his explanation of,  “‘Roaring.’ Get it? Sorry.”

It’s when they’re sitting at the table side by side, shoveling pancakes into their mouths, that Roni shifts topics.

“Your eye looks better!”

Harry chuckles.  “It does, doesn’t it? Just got a look at it in the mirror.  The swelling  has gone down significantly.”

“Thank goodness,” Roni nods.  “We have to be looking our best tonight, after all. We’re still on for dancing?”

Harry smiles around his glass of milk as he sips, and there’s a brief moment where he forgets to wipe his milk mustache off in which Roni completely melts.  “‘Course we are,” he says with a nod.

“What kinds of places are we going?  Like are we just gonna go bar hopping?  Or like… what’s the plan?  What should I prepare for?  Should I wear comfy shoes?”

Harry makes a face, not answering her right away. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.  He takes another sip of milk, and now Roni is wondering if she’s said something wrong, because his entire demeanor shifts.  “What?  Is that not how it works here?”

Harry won’t even look at her, but the smile on his face hardly falters-- if anything it just looks a bit more regretful.  “No,” he says.  “It’s not that.”

Roni frowns.  “Well, we don’t have to go if you don’t want to! We can just--”

“It isn’t that either.”  Harry finally looks at Roni with embarrassment.  He hesitates to speak, until she presses him with a look.  He sighs.  “Veronica, I have to tell you something.”

Roni hates those words.  Any time someone has said something to her along those lines, it is almost always followed by bad news.  She leans closer to him.  “What’s wrong?”

“I… don’t have enough money… to take you to several places. I can only afford one, and it’s only because I know the guy who owns it.”

Roni still doesn’t understand, so she shakes her head and places her hand on Harry’s arm reassuringly.  “Harry, that’s not a big deal, I don’t mind if--”

“No, listen.  Please.  I have to tell you this because it’s gone on for too long, and I don’t know how much longer I’m going to be able to hide it from you.”  

Roni swallows, preparing herself for the worst.  Harry’s got a wife and child living somewhere else that he has to support, and they don’t know about this apartment.  Harry is sick and dying and only has enough money to pay his medical bills for the next couple of months until he shrivels away.  Harry has--

“I don’t have a job.”

Oh.

Roni blinks back at him, trying to find the proper words to go about responding to him.  She isn’t mad by any means, but he’s looking at her like she should be.  His cheeks burn red, and his skin under Roni’s hand feels hot to the touch.  He licks his lips, raising his eyebrows expectantly at her, and she realizes she’s just been sitting here with her mouth open.  She shakes her head, and speaks with as much gentleness as she can conjure up.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I don’t know.  I really don’t.  I don’t think I anticipated you being here as long as you are-- which, I’m so happy that you are, by the way-- so I didn’t think it would come up.  And now I want to take you out and buy you clothes, and I still very much intend to do that, because I do have money left over for that.  But I just can’t do it to the extent that I would like to.  And it’s awful, because I really would love to show you around, take you to several dance places, etcetera etcetera, but…. I can’t.”

The amount of sadness in Harry’s eyes makes Roni’s heart feel heavy, and she gives his arm a squeeze.  “Harry,” she sighs.  

“Are you disappointed?”

“Of course I’m not disappointed.  If anything, I’m disappointed in myself.  I’ve been so selfish this entire time--”

“Don’t do that.”

“--But if I’d known, I could’ve helped!”

Harry chuckles, and it’s the first time in a few minutes that he seems like himself again. “How on earth could you have helped?”

“I don’t know,” Roni shrugs, “but we would’ve found a way.  You’re doing so much to help me, I can’t just sit here and let that happen without returning the favor!”

“There’s no favor to return,” Harry says with a smile.  “It’s my pleasure.”

Roni sits back in her chair, already brainstorming and completely ignoring his words.  “Lets see,” she says, drumming her fingers along the table top.   “I don’t need clothes--”

“Yes you do.”  Harry snorts.  “You’re practically swimming in mine.”

“Yeah but--”

Harry holds up his hand to stop her.  “I’ve got that part covered, Veronica.  I promise you.”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Fine.  One outfit--”

“Two.”  Harry cuts her off again, his cheeky smile fully returning to his face.  “At the very least.  You need one for tonight and another for anything else.”

“But--”

“I’ve already got it all sorted.  You’re not going to persuade me otherwise.”  

“So you’re just gonna blow the last of your money… on me?”

“Not the last of it!” Harry shrugs, then laughs when Roni scoffs.  “Love,  I didn’t tell you this to worry you.  I’ll find another job sooner or later.  I just told you so that you wouldn’t be let down when I turn out to be a rather disappointing date.”

“You’re not disappointing.”  Roni frowns.  “We’re gonna get you a job, alright?”

“I believe you!” Harry says, popping another piece of pancake into his mouth.

“Starting today.”

“Today?!”  Harry speaks through a mouthful and swallows a bit harder than he’d intended.  “No, love, today is about finding you clothes--”

“And finding you a job.”  Roni grins brilliantly at him.   “We’re doing both at the same time.”  When Harry narrows his eyes at her, she only giggles and echoes his own words back at him.  “You’re not going to persuade me otherwise.”

Harry rolls his eyes, but his dimpled smile has returned full force.  He shakes his head and takes another bite.  “You’re something else, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” Roni pops the ‘p’ at the end of the world before taking a sip of her milk.  “So hurry up and finish breakfast.  We’ve got a busy day ahead of us.”

----

It’s three hours later when Roni and Harry find themselves downtown, after an hour of cleaning up their messes in the kitchen and Harry awkwardly explaining to Roni how the shower worked.  They’d wasted no time in buying Roni the appropriate outfits,  and she’d changed in the restroom at a high end cafe.  (The looks she’d received were actually quite hysterical-- dressed in Harry’s clothes and entering the women’s restroom only to emerge wearing a brown dress, stockings, and brand new shoes.)

Roni’s first time stepping out of Harry’s apartment and into the daylight had been surreal.  She’d felt dizzy several times, especially when comparing the shops and restaurants along the streets now to the ones of her own time.  It wasn’t that she didn’t know her way around; she knew this city like the back of her hand.  But seeing everything-- and everyone-- so different is a feeling unlike anything she’d ever experienced in her life.

But now here she is, dressed the part and feeling a hundred times more confident and present than before.  She and Harry had visited numerous businesses for him to apply to, and each one had given them roughly the same answer.  Promises to call seemed to only crush Harry’s spirit, which Roni understood.  But she’d remained as positive and enthusiastic about the entire process as she could, and now here she is-- encouraging him to just pop into one more store with her.  

“What if they’re the ones that are gonna offer you a job, you know?”

“Or they’ll just promise to call me,” Harry says with a shrug.  “You know how those things work.  They promise to call and they never do.”

Roni is about to launch into an entire spiel about how Harry is only going to attract what he puts out there and he shouldn’t be going into this with a negative attitude, when something catches her eye.

“Oh my god.”  

She stops dead in her tracks, and it takes Harry a moment to notice she isn’t behind him.  He turns to see Roni staring in disbelief at one of the little shops along the strip.  He follows her gaze to understand what she’s so struck by, but it only confuses him more.  “What, the tobacco place?”

“No, the book store.”  Roni feels like crying and she doesn’t even know why.  It’s not a particularly emotional moment by any means, but it’s strange and surreal and the only thing her body can think to do with all of the unusual feelings she’s feeling is to expel them through tears.  

She doesn’t end up crying, not really, but she does have to blink the mist out of her eyes to make sure she isn’t seeing anything.

The sign above the book shop is the same one she’d gotten so used to seeing nearly every day of her life in the 90s, but now it’s got a fresh coat of paint and it’s bright and shiny rather than weathered with time.  It reads, loud and proud in white paint: The Little Read Book, and Roni laughs in disbelief.

If Roni remembers correctly, the shop was opened in 1920-- which technically is five years ago-- by Eileen’s grandmother, and Roni realizes that that means Eileen isn’t born yet, and won’t be for another ten years.

“Harry,” Roni says quietly to a patient Harry who’s been waiting for her to say something,  “I work there.”

“What?”  Harry scoffs, glancing from the shop to Roni’s awe-stricken face.  “What on earth do you-- oh.”  It finally dawns on Harry, only now he isn’t sure at all what the proper way to respond to this situation would be.  He clears his throat.  “You don’t say?  Well, that’s interesting.”

Without thinking, Roni grabs Harry’s hand and yanks him with her as she makes her way to the shop.  “We have to go in,” she says, completely unaware of the way Harry is blushing at her small hand in his.

A familiar bell rings the moment Roni opens the door, and out of habit she wants to call out a greeting to Eileen. The shop smells exactly the same, and it’s organized almost identically to the way it looks in the 90s. The difference is on the walls- there are significantly less photographs covering them, and the ones that are tacked to the green wallpaper are fresh and not yellowed with age.

A few customers walk among the shelves, talking quietly to themselves, and faint jazz music plays from the radio behind the front desk.  The radio is still there in Roni’s time, but it has long since stopped working, and seeing it in all its glory is something so surreal that Roni gets dizzy all over again.

“May I help you?”

Roni turns her attention to a girl much younger than her rounding the corner carrying an armful of books.  Roni’s knee-jerk reaction is to go help the girl but she refrains-- reminding herself that she does not, in fact, work here at the moment.

The girl plops the pile onto the desk and Roni gets a glimpse of her nametag.  It reads “Daisy” in a plain blue font, and Roni wracks her brain trying to remember if she’s ever heard this name before and if this person holds any significance in Eileen’s life.

It’s Harry who speaks first.  “Hi, I was wondering if you had any available positions open?”

The question takes both Daisy and Roni by surprise, and Roni can’t stop her jaw from falling practically on the floor.  Of course it makes sense for him to work here, and she wishes she’d come up with the idea herself. She’d been so shocked to see this place in the context it’s in now, that she’d forgotten all about the task at hand.  A pang of guilt strikes her belly for a brief moment.

Daisy blinks back surprise, a pleasant smile growing on her face.  “Really?”

“Yes ma’am.”  Harry beams,  “I’m looking to start as soon as possible.”

Daisy eyes Harry for a moment, stopping briefly on his still faint-purple eye, before leaning against the counter and grinning.  “What’s your name?”

“Harry,” he replies, holding out his hand.  “Styles.”

Daisy shakes his hand with a smile before turning expectantly to Roni, and now Roni suddenly feels put on the spot.

“Uh,” she stammers, reaching to shake Daisy’s hand.  “I’m Roni.”

Daisy makes a face, cocking her head to one side.  “As in Ronald?”

Harry snorts, and Roni sighs.  “No, Veronica.  Sorry, I should’ve been more clear.”

“No!” Daisy says, “It’s just a unique name.  I’ve never heard anything like that before.  I like it.  Are you interested in a position as well?”  Her bright beautiful smile returns back to her face, and it’s the first time that Roni’s really looked closely. She can clearly see the almost chilling resemblance to Eileen now, and it makes her feel woozy.

It takes everything in Roni not to explain the situation, but how would she even start?  

Actually, I do work here, but not right now-- seventy-four years into the future, and I can give you my official employee reference for you to hire Harry!

Roni sees Harry smirking at her as if he’s thinking the same thing she is, and she giggles nervously.  “No.  Thank you though.”

“Alright, but if you change your mind, I’m always hiring!”  Daisy makes her way behind the counter to organize the books as she speaks.  “My name is Daisy Hartford. I actually recently took over the business with my husband Lawrence.  My mother opened the shop five years ago, but she gave the business to us when we got married last summer.”

Roni tunes Daisy out as she comes to the realization that Daisy is Eileen’s mother.  It feels so strange to see this young girl, likely no older than nineteen, running a business that Roni knows by heart, and speaking of her mother and her husband so candidly.  She doesn’t know that she’s going to have four children, and that one of them is going to be Eileen.  She doesn’t know that Eileen is going to take over the shop one day.  Hell, she probably doesn’t even know that the shop is going to make it another seventy-four plus years.  She doesn’t know any of this-- but Roni does.

Daisy continues rambling, bringing Roni out of her thoughts.  “I love it, but I could use all the help I can get.  Especially once we start having little ones running around, do you know what I mean?  I’m sure the two of you understand.”

Harry’s smirk only deepens while Roni feels her face is on fire. Her voice is so quiet that even she has a hard time hearing herself. “Oh, we’re not--”

“Well” Daisy unintentionally cuts Roni off, smiling sweetly.  “I’m sure I don’t need to bore you with my story.”  She turns to Harry with a pointed look.  “Mr. Styles.  Have you any experience working with books?”

Roni can almost hear the panic bells going off in Harry’s head, but his exterior remains cool and collected.  “I do not,” he says,  “But I am a fast learner.”

“Excellent.”  Daisy flips nonchalantly through a book before setting it aside.  “And your current employer is whom?”

Harry swallows, his ego clearly slightly bruised.  He fidgets with his fingers when he talks, drawing Roni’s attention to the fact that even she’s fidgeting with her ring out of pure nervousness.  “I don’t have one, ma’am.  But my previous employer was Milton and Sons.  I made shoes.”

“Oh, how funny!  I’ve got a pair of Miltons on right now!”  Daisy kicks out her leg a bit to show off her shoes, and it makes both Roni and Harry giggle.

“Those are quite nice,” Harry says.  “I’ll bet I made them.”

“I’ll bet you did!”  Daisy beams, before realizing that this is still a job interview-- albeit a very lax one. She clears her throat and settles herself down.  “Alright, alright.  Next question.  Why The Little Read Book?”

It’s another one of those moments where Roni wants to jump in, and Harry can see her internal struggle.  “Well,” he says slowly,  “A dear friend of mine recommended this place.”

“Did he?  What’s his name?”

Harry’s lips twitch.  “Ronald.”

Roni nearly chokes, but Harry remains completely serious as Daisy thinks long and hard.  “Ronald…. Mr. Whitley?  He comes in here quite often.”

“Maybe,” Harry says with a shrug. “I’ve never caught his last name before.  But in any case, Ronald has been coming here for years now.  He speaks very highly of this place.  Says it feels like home to him.  And I can see why.  You’ve got a remarkable business here, Mrs. Hartford.”

Daisy beams.  “Thank you! That’s lovely to hear.”  

After a few more questions that almost all lead into a conversation of some sort, Roni, Daisy, and Harry feel like three chums just hanging out and having a chat.  Which was something Eileen had constantly told Roni about Daisy.

“My mother could befriend a rock if you gave her enough time,” Eileen would say.  “She would hold conversation with just about anyone.  Everybody loved her, and with good reason.”

Now that she’s meeting her, Roni would have to agree.

“Well, Mr. Styles,” Daisy says through a sigh.  “I suppose I’ve just got one question left for you, and it’s the most important one.”

Harry nods.  “Shoot.”

“When can you start?”

Roni can tell that Harry wants to leap up in the air and celebrate.  She knows how much this means to him and, frankly, she’s feeling the exact same way.  She beams at Harry, expectantly awaiting his answer.  While he remains as calm as possible, there is no denying the dimple on his cheek showing just how happy he is.

“Tomorrow?” Harry raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“We’re closed tomorrow.”  Roni and Daisy say this at the same time, and when Daisy shoots Roni a look of confusion, Roni fumbles over an explanation.  Truth be told, it was merely force of habit.  But that isn’t something she has time to explain to Daisy, so she shrugs.

“Sorry, I’ve just-- tried to come in here a few times on Saturdays and Sundays and always realized you were closed.  Made that mistake too many times.  Ha. Sorry.”

This is a tradition no longer kept in 1999, but Roni remembers the days when both Saturdays and Sundays were off days.  In 1998 Eileen had decided to open up Saturdays for business, keeping Sundays blocked off because “I’m a God-fearing woman, Veronica.”   But still, it is Roni’s knee-jerk reaction to respond the way that she just has, and she’s thankful that Daisy bought her explanation.

“Right,” Daisy giggles.  “Well, in any case, Mr. Styles, are you free to start Monday around eleven?”

Harry nods.  “Monday around eleven sounds great.”

“Wonderful!  I can’t wait to work with you.”  She turns to Roni.  “And I’m sure I’ll be seeing much more of you in here, Mrs. Styles.”

Roni opens her mouth to say something but is cut off immediately by Harry taking her hand and tugging her towards the door.  “Right, lovely to meet you, Mrs. Hartford.  I’ll see you Monday at eleven, and not a minute later!”

The door closes behind them and they’re back outside, squinting at one another in the sunlight.  Harry’s smiling like an excited little boy, and after a moment of watching him, Roni presses him with a nudge.  “Well?”

“Veronica,” Harry says softly, “We fucking did it.”

It’s the first time Roni’s heard Harry (knowingly) curse in front of her, and it makes her giggle at his unfiltered excitement.  She takes both of Harry’s hands in hers and squeezes, beaming up at him before just giving in and wrapping her arms around his torso.  She gives him a tight squeeze and leans affectionately into him.

“Hell yeah,” she says,  “We fucking did.”

----

“Harryyy,” Roni whines from the bathroom.

“Yes, love?”

Roni sighs loudly, and the noise makes Harry chuckle to himself from his spot on the couch.  “You can’t laugh, okay?”

“Why would I laugh?”

“Because.”  Roni opens the door a crack, barely peeking her head out to look at Harry.  “I need help.”

It’s a few hours later and Harry and Roni have found themselves back at Harry’s place to freshen up for the evening.  Roni had insisted she’d be fine changing in another public restroom, but Harry had refused-- saying that he needed to get changed into something “spiffier.”

The outfit Harry had bought for Roni seemed nice enough, but now that she’s actually trying to do up the buttons in the back while keeping the sash tied correctly, she’s realizing just how complicated the entire outfit is. It doesn’t help that the only bra she has is the one she’d been wearing the night she arrived, which is very modern in comparison to the rest of the dress.   Try as she might, there is no way she could manage getting the buttons all done up herself.  So she’d swallowed her pride, and now here she is-- pitifully asking Harry for help.

Harry looks lovely, of course, and it’s the nicest Roni has seen him dress the entire time she’s been here.  He’s in a gray suit buttoned up the front, and a nice pair of leather shoes that, admittedly could use a bit of a shine but are altogether so handsome and so Harry.  He completes the entire ensemble with a little gray cap on his head-- because of course he does-- and Roni suddenly feels self conscious when he looks at her.

He smiles knowingly, rising to his feet and heading towards the bathroom door.  “Too advanced for you then?”

Roni pouts, stepping out of the bathroom in the half buttoned, half tied mess of a dress.  “I just can’t get the buttons done,” she huffs.  “And the belt won’t stay tied!”

Harry snorts, picking up the ribbon that droops around Roni’s waist.  “It doesn’t go there.”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Well that would’ve been nice to know ten minutes ago.”

“Alright, alright,”  Harry says through another laugh.  “Turn around.”

Roni complies without thinking, and Harry’s breath catches in his throat the moment she does.  

It’s the first time he’s seen a woman’s bare back in, god, he doesn’t even know how long.  She’s gotten the buttons done up herself all the way to the spot just before her back dips into her bottom, and Harry subconsciously licks his lips at the involuntary thought of what lies beneath the southernmost button.  The lace of her brassiere clings delicately to her back, and although Harry has seen a decent amount of brassieres in his lifetime, he’s never quite seen one this intricate.  He would give anything to unlatch it and place his lips to the spot on her skin where it rested, but he knows he can’t.  He knows he’s got a job to do here, and she’s waiting.

Harry doesn’t realize he’s been staring for so long until Roni speaks. “What, did I mess it up?”

“Yes” Harry says, praying that Roni doesn’t notice the audible crack in his voice.  “But it’s okay.  Nothing I can’t fix.”

With shaky hands Harry works to fasten the buttons up her back.  Roni sighs, seemingly unaware of the way Harry trembles behind her.  For some reason the fact that this is completely normal to Roni, in a time where it’s scandalous for any unwed woman to present herself to a man this way, is making this all the more sexy to him.  He licks his lips, focusing on getting this done as quickly as possible so as not to make it weird, while also savoring the moment as much as he can.  

He can feel the heat from her skin, and he can smell his shampoo in her hair, and he closes his eyes to allow the scent to fill his nose.  Should he say something?  Is he being weird by not saying anything?  Can she feel how absolutely tense he is as he tries to focus on not touching her for too long?  He’s completely short-circuited, and he gulps trying to come up with something to talk about.

When Harry’s finger accidentally grazes a spot on Roni’s back, she jolts, starling Harry.

“Sorry, sorry!” Harry blurts.  “Did I hurt you?”

“No, no, it’s just-- your hands are cold.”

“Oh.” Idiot.  “Sorry.”

“No,” Roni says again.  “It felt… good.”

“Oh.”  

Can he say anything other than oh?

Harry watches as goosebumps prickle Roni’s skin, and he moves slower now, taking special care to brush his fingers against her back occasionally.  If she said it felt good, it’s all he can do to keep her feeling that way.   She swallows and audibly exhales,  and the goosebumps never fade or shrink.  

Harry doesn’t know why it happens this way with her.  Everything is always so friendly and normal, and then the most casual and mundane thing sets him off.  He knows she feels it too, because even over her shoulder he can see her eyes nervously darting around with every controlled breath she takes.   She, too, looks like she wants to say something and can’t find the words, but Harry doesn’t mind.  The higher he gets with her buttons, the slower he goes.

With a shaky hand, Harry reaches up to gather Roni’s hair in his hand and gently brushes it over her shoulder and out of his way.  She shivers when he does this, and it makes him smile to himself.  If ever he should be lucky enough to be this close to Roni again, he needs to remember that she likes to have her hair played with.

When he finally reaches the top button, he takes his time fastening it.  He doesn’t realize that he and Roni are both holding their breaths until both of them let it out in a sigh.  He closes his eyes briefly, willing time to stop just for moment so that he can savor this longer, but he has no time to linger on the thought before Roni is spinning around to face him.

“Does it look okay?  Like seriously, do I like… fit with the times?”

She looks genuinely worried, and her eyes scan his for any sign of humor in his response.  

How can Harry tell her that she looks like a dream?  She looks like everything he’s ever wanted and so, so much more.  Of course he’d gone a tad over his planned budget in buying her this outfit, but seeing her here, wearing it and looking like that makes it all worth it.  Were dresses like this supposed to fit this way?  He’s never seen a dress look so good on anybody before, and he doesn’t know how on earth to tell her that without frightening her off.

So he keeps his composure as much as he can, smiling mischievously down at her.  “Not yet.”

He reaches for the tie that Roni had mislabeled a belt and, feeling bolder now, unties it from around her hips.  She squirms a bit in his grasp but she isn’t smiling, not yet, and Harry realizes that fitting in is something incredibly important to her.

“Right, hold still.”  Harry loops the tie around the back of Roni’s neck, brushing her hair up over it and smiling when he notices the goosebumps on her skin once again.  He watches her face closely as he ties the tie in a loose knot in the middle of her chest.  She won’t look at him anymore, but there’s a hint of a smile gracing her pretty lips, so he knows he’s got her where he wants her.   He secures the knot and takes the two loose ends of the tie in his hands, yanking her gently closer to him.

Roni stumbles and gasps softy, before glaring up at him.  “Hey, careful! I could’ve--”

She trails off when she sees the way he’s smiling at her, and she softens immediately.  Her eyes hold an almost indiscernible worry, and if Harry had blinked he would’ve missed the way they darted down to his lips for just a split second.

Harry smirks.  “Now you look perfect.”

Roni giggles nervously, a red tint glowing from her cheeks as she averts her gaze.  She seems to come back to her senses slowly, and Harry is pleased with the effect he has on her.

“Thanks,” she says softly, stepping back and out of the circle of his arms,  “For… helping me.  I don’t mean to be so helpless it’s just…. You know.”

Harry nods.  “I do know,” he says with a reassuring smile.”  He places a hand on his belly.  “I also know that my stomach has been growling for the last hour, and I’m itching to show you off on that dance floor.”  He offers her his arm, grinning smugly down at her.  “So.  Shall we?”

---

The New York air is much colder now, and Roni leans closer to Harry for warmth as they walk.  She’s significantly less afraid now that she looks the part, even going so far as to give passersby a few polite head nods and a quick “good evening!”

Harry grins down at her, squeezing her arm with his own.  “You’re a proper lady now, aren’t you?”

Roni takes on her best posh accent, making Harry snort when she talks.  “Well I look the part, darling, but now I’ve got to act it, haven’t I?”

Through residual giggles, Harry shakes his head.  “You had me up until the accent.”

“What a shame,” Roni says, making her accent even thicker and giggling to herself.  “I’ll have to work on that.”

A clocktower in the distance chimes six o’clock as Harry and Roni finally approach their destination.   It’s busier than Roni had anticipated, but then again it is Friday night. This seems like the place to be, and if this is the only place Harry can take her tonight, he definitely picked a good one.

Harry talks briefly with the host at the front desk, who he’d mentioned to Roni that he was friends with, but Roni doesn’t even pay attention to anything being said.  She instead takes this time to really study the place.  Several round tables surround the large dance floor.  If Roni remembers correctly, this building is a roller rink in her time, and it’s so strange to see it as something so drastically different now.  

It’s also strange to see how many people are smoking indoors here, and Roni coughs when a woman walks by and wafts cigarette smoke into her face.

They’re seated shortly at a smaller table in the corner, and when the host returns back to his post, Harry beams at Roni.  “So? What do you think?”

“It’s cute!” Roni says. “It’s weird because I’ve been here but you know, like… in the 90s.”

“Yeah?  Is it pretty much the same?”

“Not at all,” Roni laughs.  “I mean the big dance area kind of looks the same I guess.  But it’s a huge roller rink.”

“A what?” Harry scrunches up his face, but doesn’t even give Roni a chance to answer him. “Oh, like for roller skates?”

“Yeah!”

Harry looks out at the dance floor thoughtfully. “Gee. So that area is just filled with people roller skating, huh?  That’s odd to think about.”

The waiter approaches, quickly shifting both Harry and Roni’s attention.  He informs them that his name is Stanley, goes over a few of the food specials for the evening, and then asks them what they’d like to drink.  Harry orders a lemonade, and then both he and Stanley turn to Roni expectantly.

“Yeah, uh, I’ll take a rum and coke, please.”

If a record-scratch silence was such a thing in these times, it would have happened at that exact moment.  Stanley, the people at the next table over, and even Harry all stare at her as if her order is the most scandalous thing they’ve ever heard.  Roni stares back blankly, trying to gather what on earth the problem could be, before finally looking to Harry for help.

Harry catches on quickly, laughing dryly and leaning across the table to place a hand on Roni’s.  “She’s joking, of course,” he says.  “She’ll just have a coca-cola.  Please.  Thank you so much.”

Stanley lingers a moment, as if processing what just happened, before turning slowly on his heels and making his way to the kitchen.

When Harry is sure the waiter is out of earshot, he leans across the table with a serious look.  “Don’t do that,” he hisses quietly.

“Do what?!” Roni asks incredulously.  “Order a drink?  What, are women not allowed to drink here?”

Harry chuckles.  “Actually no one is.”

“What the fuck?” Roni says, biting her tongue the moment it escapes her lips because she knows she shouldn’t be cursing like that in public.  Not here at least. She glances around to make sure no one heard her, then lowers her voice.  “Why not?”

Harry grins smugly.  “You mean to tell me the prohibition isn’t something significant in the future?  Like it just… ends?”

Roni rolls her eyes.  “Oh god,” she says.  “The prohibition.  Forgot about that.”

“Ah.”  Harry nods.  “So you’ve heard of it.”

Roni pouts.  “Yeah, and it sucks.”

“You’re telling me,” Harry says through a laugh.

“I guess just a coke is fine though,”  Roni admits.  “Probably don’t need anything making me more disoriented me more than I already am.”

“That’s the spirit.”

Roni sighs, glancing around the restaurant again in another attempt to take it all in.  When she catches the eye of an older lady a few tables over, she notices the woman is frowning at her, and she shifts in her seat. “Are people staring?  They’re definitely staring.  Did you button me up wrong?”

“I didn’t,” Harry says. “Maybe they’re staring because of how beautiful you look.”

Roni’s cheeks grow hot and she rolls her eyes, but she can’t suppress the smile on her face. “Harry--”

“I’m serious!” he says.  “That dress is divine.  I must say, whoever picked it for you has excellent taste.”

“Hey, I picked it out, too.” Roni sticks her tongue out at Harry.

“Maybe so,” Harry says with a shrug,  “But of the two of us, I’m the one with the fashion sense here.”

Roni opens her mouth to protest, but Harry only rises to his feet and holds his hand out for her. “Anyway,” he says, “care to dance?”

At first Roni feels awkward on the crowded dance floor.  Everyone around her seems so experienced, and there she is stumbling around like she’s never even heard music before in her life.  She accidentally bumps into several people, and Harry always calmly apologizes for her before jumping right into the impromptu dance lesson he’s giving her.  Of course she feels bad, but he’s so encouraging (and went through all the trouble to get them here), so she puts on a brave face and soldiers through it.

By about four songs in, however, Roni’s insecurities wash further and further away with every smile or word of praise Harry gives her, and suddenly it feels like they’re the only two in the entire building.

The familiar opening chords of The Charleston begin booming from the orchestra, and Harry and Roni immediately exchange open-mouthed grins.  “You know this one!” Harry yells over the music, already beginning to tap his feet.

“No I don’t!” Roni giggles, already being swept off her feet by Harry.

Once again they’re laughing like children, stumbling over one another while Harry shouts incoherent commands at her.  

“Remember? Left, kick, left--- Veronica, focus!”

“I can’t! Not with everyone around!”

Roni finally allows her giggles to get the best of her, letting go of Harry and hunching over to clutch her belly.  Harry watches her, an endeared smile on his lips, before reaching to take her hand again. “Veronica--”

“Wait!” Roni stands up straight. “Wait, it’s my turn. Let me show you how it’s done. Ever heard of this one?”

She starts half-jumping, half- running in place and Harry lets out a loud cackle. “What on earth are you doing?”

“It’s called the running man!” Roni calls back.  “All the rage where I come from!”

Harry’s face grows redder by the second from laughing so hard, and he lets out a hacking cough. “Oh my god, you look ridiculous!”

“Yeah? Like that one? How about this one?”  Roni places her hands on either side of her face, framing her head and moving her hands from her cheeks to her chin and top of her head. . “This one is called Vogue-ing.”

Harry wipes at his eyes, clutching his stomach. “Veronica,” he says through a wet laugh, “Please, no more.”

“And here’s a classic!”  Roni goes completely stiff, bending her arms at the elbows and moving robotically. “They call this one the robot!”

“God,” Harry shakes his head, face now beet read from laughing. “You’re so bloody weird.”

“You aren’t gonna try it with me?” Roni asks.  “I try your weird dances with you!”

Harry rolls his eyes, but he knows she’s got a point. “It’s not the same.”

“It doesn’t matter!” Roni calls back. “C’mon, just try the robot one time.”

Harry glances nervously around before deciding to just completely throw caution to the wind and join her.  He goes stiff as well, mimicking her movements in the most forced and uncomfortable looking way.

Now it’s her turn to laugh, and she lets out the most adorable cackle Harry thinks he’s ever heard. “Ha! You’ve got it!”

“Do I look absolutely mental?” Harry asks through a grin.

“Absolutely, babe,” Roni says with a nod.

“Good!” Harry starts moving faster, knowing damn well he isn’t doing this dance correctly at all, until Roni can’t even dance anymore. She’s nearly on the ground with how hard she’s laughing, and both she and Harry completely ignore the dirty looks from everyone around them who’s actually taking their dancing seriously.

Harry is completely out of breath by the end of the song, and he genuinely feels he’s going to be sore tomorrow.  

But if it meant seeing Roni this happy and full of laughter, he’d take her out dancing every single night.

---

“So what was it like?”

Roni turns to Harry.  “What?”

Roni and Harry are walking home side by side, and Roni is carrying her shoes-- even though Harry had informed her several times how filthy the ground was. When they’d finally decided to stop dancing and sit down for dinner, they’d launched immediately into conversation, covering just about any topic under the sun. Harry marvels at how easy it is to talk to Roni, and he reckons he could sit and listen to her talk about absolutely nothing for days on end.

“The moment you traveled back.  I know you said it was a lucid dream of sorts, but what was it really like?  Was it like you were flying?”

“No, not really,” Roni says, and she takes a moment to think of how to explain this to him.  “It was just like walking.  But I couldn’t walk fast enough.  I wasn’t being threatened or anything.  I just knew I had somewhere to go and I didn’t think I’d get there in time.”

“Where were you trying to go?  You’d mentioned something about the 1980s… is that correct?  Something about your mum?”

Roni smiles sadly at him.  “You remember me saying that?”

“‘Course I do.”  Harry notices the sadness of Roni’s features, and he lowers his voice.  “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s okay,” Roni says wistfully.  “I wanted to go to 1985. That was the year I lost my mom.  In a car accident.”

“Oh, Veronica,” Harry coos. “I’m so sorry.”

“Cars were… well, are a lot different where I come from.  People drive like assholes.  Pardon the language.”  Harry smirks to himself.  Since when does Roni feel the need to apologize for her language?  He doesn’t have time to tease her, however, and he figures now is not the time.  So he lets her continue.

“So mom was driving to work one morning.  And this guy fell asleep at the wheel.  A trucker.  He’d been driving all night.”  Roni seems lost in her own thoughts, and Harry hangs on her every word.  “And it sucks because… it was just like any other day, you know?  We just said a normal goodbye.  She was planning on ordering pizza that night when she got home.   I asked her to take me to the pool, and she couldn’t.  She was working overtime so that she could pay for this stupid class trip for me.”  Roni shakes her head bitterly, and Harry wants to say something, but he decides to let her sort through her own thoughts.

“I just thought that… maybe if I could go back to that day I could stop her, do you know what I mean?  I thought I could maybe warn her not to leave.  She would’ve listened to me.”  Roni chuckles softly to herself.  “I was always good at persuading her.”

They round the corner, beginning their ascent up the steps to Harry’s apartment.  He finally speaks as he fumbles with his keys.  “You know you can’t give up, right?  You’ve proven that time travel is real, now it’s just a matter of perfecting the specifics.”

Roni shrugs as Harry pushes his creaky front door open for her to walk through.  “I suppose,” she says, “I just don’t know if I want to risk going to another unfamiliar time period.  I’m not sure anyone else would be as kind as you.”

Her words tug at Harry’s heart strings as he locks the door behind him.  “Can I say something?”

Roni kicks off her shoes.  “Of course.”

“I’m really glad you showed up here.”  When Roni shoots Harry a look that says “don’t be cheesy,”  he giggles.  “I mean it! You’re somebody that I feel very, very lucky to have met.  You’re an incredible person.”

“Oh stop it.”  Roni and Harry make their way through the living room, while Harry begins unbuttoning his jacket and Roni fumbles to untie the neck-tie that has been itching her skin all night.

“I’m serious,” Harry says.  “You’re intelligent.  And witty.”

Roni smirks at him.  “Alright fine, keep going.”

“And funny,”  Harry adds with a pointed look.  “Gosh, Veronica, no one makes me laugh as hard as you do, you know that?”

“The feeling is mutual, dude.”  Roni frowns down at the knot that she still hasn’t been able to get untied, and Harry keeps talking.

“You keep me on my toes, but in the best way.”  Harry wiggles out of his jacket, placing it neatly over the back of a chair. “I never know what to expect from you.”

“Good,” Roni says, distracted and still scowling at the stubborn knot.  “I want to keep it that way.”

“You’re unlike any woman-- no, any person in general, I have ever met in my life.  And I’ve met a lot of people, you know.  You’re someone special.  I feel like you were meant to come into my life, even if you came from the future.  And--”  Harry trails off when he notices her struggling. “Do you need help with that?”

Roni frowns up at him, finally giving up.  “How tight did you tie this thing?!”

Harry laughs, making his way over to her.  “Alright, c’mere.  Let me see.”

It feels good to be this close to Roni again, and although they’d spent the last roughly three and a half hours dancing closely, this feels so much better.  Harry feels the same nervous energy he’d felt while tying this thing, but somehow he’s more confident about it now, and he doesn’t shy away from standing so close to her.

“You can keep going on about how great I am if you want,” Roni teases.

“Oh can I?” Harry asks.  “Thank you for your blessing, madam.”

“Anytime!”

Harry smiles, working at the knot gently and really searching to find the right words in his mind.  “Suppose everything I’ve been saying is rather sappy, innit?”

“I don’t mind.”

Harry’s heart pounds at her words, although he isn’t exactly nervous.  “Well, may I say something else sappy?”

“We’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

“Fair.”  Harry smiles.  Admittedly, he’s got the knot figured out and could easily side the tie off with no problem. But he likes having something for his fingers to fidget with, and he definitely  likes having his fingers so near her body.  “On top of everything else I’ve said, you are… undoubtedly… the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.”

Roni’s mouth falls open so subtly that Harry would have missed it if it wasn’t for the almost inaudible gasp that accompanied the movement.  He doesn’t look at her eyes, he instead focuses on the knot-- which he is now halfway done with.

“Harry.”

“Pardon me if I’m being too forward, Veronica.  I just think it’s high time that I let you know that.  You deserve to be told that every day.”

Harry shakes the knot a bit, effectively loosening it so that it practically slides off.  But he doesn’t let go of the fabric, holding it loosely on either side of her neck.  He swallows and she lets out a shaky breath, eyes darting frantically along his face as if she can’t decide on a place for them to land.  The mood in the room has shifted entirely just from his one confession, because they both know that his words hold so much more depth to them.  He isn’t just complimenting her to fill the silence.  He means it, and he means so much more by it.

“Can I say something as well?”  Roni says quietly, and Harry only nods.  “You’re… the most wonderful person I’ve ever known, Harry.  And I wish… I wish I’d met you sooner.”

“I consider myself incredibly lucky to have met you,” Harry says.  “And I... I don’t know how long you’re going to be here with me for.  But I already wish I had longer with you.  And I wish you were mine.”

Roni licks her lips as their eyes finally meet.  They both wear looks of confusion, a bit of fear, and so much yearning that it would make Roni sick on any other day.  But now she’s here, and she’s feeling something she’s honestly never felt in her life.  She smiles, reaching up slowly to cup his cheek and run her thumb over the spot where his dimple lives.

“I wish that, too,” she says breathlessly.

Finally. Finally it’s the moment they’ve both been waiting for for so long.  Harry tugs lightly on the tie, pulling Roni in so close that their faces are practically touching.  It would be so easy for them to just do it, just tilt their heads the slightest bit and kiss already.  Roni feels jittery and shaky, and Harry reaches up to take the wrist of the hand that cups his face.

They’re so close that Roni can feel the warmth radiating off of his skin, and she swallows down all of the words that she’s dying to say.  She licks her lips, only briefly giving in to the “what if’s” swimming around in her brain, and she removes her eyes from his swollen pink lips.  She scans the dip of his cupid’s bow, the little mole on the corner of his chin, the point of his nose, and finally his green eyes that match the intensity on his face.  Memories of the image she’d woken up to this morning float back into her mind,-- images of him, naked and swollen and whining-- and this time she lets them linger for a moment.  Enjoying the way the sight had made her feel.  Enjoying the way that that same hand feels now against her wrist.

“Harry,” Roni whispers.

Harry bumps his nose to hers, lips so close that she can practically taste them.  “Yes, love?”

Roni wants to stop herself from saying what she’s about to say.  More than anything she wants to give in to this boy who’s standing so close to her, she wants to fasten their lips together and taste him.  She wants to kiss his neck, and she wants him to kiss hers.  She wants to touch him, lick him, bury him inside of her until they pass out from exhaustion.  And she wants to wake up tomorrow and do it all over again.

But instead, she says something she almost instantly regrets.

“I can’t.”

[hockeylvr59]

What Happens in Vegas || Jamie Benn

Requested: [ ] yes [x] no

Authors Note: So I’m not a doctor/chiropractor but I have worked for one for a few years so I have a little more than an elementary knowledge on the subject. If there are any inaccuracies though, I don’t claim to be an expert. Also, the concept for this was supposed to be porn without plot but it’s more plot with a little porn...oops.

Also if it wasn’t obvious, this was inspired by the Stars recent Vegas trip. 

Warnings: SMUT, insecurity (plus sized reader)

Word Count: 5,270

“What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas.” That was the motto your friends were currently planning to live by at least.

Having touched down late last night, this was your first full day in Sin City. You’d come with the girls in your class for a girls’ weekend to celebrate graduation...the end of eight years of higher education. After four years of undergrad and another four spent studying the human nervous system, you’d walked across the stage and received your diploma last week and it was only boards that stood in the way of officially being a licensed physician.

‘Dr.’  was a title that you had worked your butt off to earn and while there were a lot of people that would say that you weren’t a real doctor, you’d completed a course load that was similar to that of medical doctors. In your mind, being a chiropractor was a way to assist people in the pursuit of real wellness goals, to fix the real problems that caused so many diseases, to really help people instead of just treating the symptoms.

Nonetheless, this trip was to forget about the crazy amount of information you had crammed into your brain and instead to take a step back and relax. Though, you had a different definition of relax when compared to your friends. They had plans to find and flirt with as many hot guys as possible, to gamble, to drink, and to take in the full experience of Vegas nightlife.

Your plans....well they were a lot more mellow. At the top of your list was the Mob Museum followed by the Natural History Museum and the Springs Preserve. After that...well you’d maybe take in a show, walk the strip to see the sights, nothing too crazy. This morning though, they’d found out that there was a VIP pool party and had somehow managed to talk their way into it, dragging you along.

Knowing that they were going to spend their entire time flirting with every guy in sight and drinking way more than they should, you really didn’t want to go but decided not to fight them. Instead, you threw a bottle of water, some sunscreen, and a book into a tote bag and headed down to the lobby to meet them after changing.

As you entered the pool area you immediately cursed to yourself as you realized that the VIP pool party you were at was filled with members of the Dallas Stars hockey team. None of your friends followed hockey closely, though the looks they were giving you told you that they were aware of exactly what they had dragged you to. Biting your lip, you stretched onto tiptoes in order to find an empty lounge chair off to the side so you could slip away from the main happenings. You could name at least half the players that were drinking and being fawned over by every woman present and to say it was an intimidating sight was an understatement.

See...you didn’t look like those girls. You didn’t even look like your friends. Though you were a doctor, your health journey hadn’t been easy and was very much still a work in progress. While all the other girls here were dressed in skimpy bikinis, you had a pair of Bermuda shorts on covering your swim bottoms (and your fat thighs) and your olive green bikini top was mostly hidden under your sheer black cover-up in an attempt to make you a little less self-conscious.

Spotting a chair, you waved at your friends to have fun before crossing the pool deck and settling yourself down. Sprayed with sunscreen and with a book in hand you let yourself get lost in the world created by the author. This was the first book you’d read that hadn’t been about the human body in almost a year and so it was easy to forget about where you were and let your mind wander.

It had to have been at least a half an hour later when you set the book on your knee to take a swig of your bottle of water. Scanning the area for your friends you nodded to yourself seeing them laugh and flirt with whoever would pay them mind. When your eyes met the deep brown of the Stars captain, your mouth went dry again and you sent him a polite smile before returning to your book. What you didn’t know was that he’d been eyeing you since you walked through the doors.

Other members of the Stars had noticed though and were shoving Jamie, urging him to approach you. He didn’t, but at least twice more when you looked up from your book you caught him watching you, causing him to quickly look away and return to his friends and teammates.

Hours later, when you were certain that any longer in the sun would cause you to come away with a nasty burn, you collected your things and slipped your sandals back on. While you debated getting food, a nap sounded like a much better idea and so you decided to head back up to the room for a bit. Texting your friends that you were leaving and would meet up with them later for food, you headed back inside and stepped into the elevator, pressing the button to take you back up to your room.

Just before the elevator doors shut, a hand reached in to stop them and you swallowed hard as Jamie Benn stepped into the enclosed space with you, pressing the button for his own floor. Glancing up at him for a moment you wondered if he had followed you or if this was just a coincidence. The latter seemed more realistic but also more unlikely. Then again you were probably just imagining him staring at you.

Reaching into your bag for a hair tie, you pulled your dark locks onto the top of your head, trying to allow the cool air to reach the back of your neck. After a moment, the man next to you cleared his throat and when you looked over at him he was rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes focused on you.

“You uh...you really came to a party to read huh?” He finally declared, his eyes going a bit wider as he thought about how that may have sounded. “I mean uh...not that there’s anything wrong with that. I just...it was different.” He finally mumbled, shaking his head as if he regretted opening his mouth at all.

A blush flooded your cheeks and you shifted your weight nervously on your feet.

“Well, I guess different is probably a good word to describe me then. I’m not the social butterfly that my friends are, and no offense but you guys are a bit intimidating.” Braving a glance up at Jamie you saw his face scrunched in confusion. “I mean it's not every day you’re surrounded by a bunch of NHL players and I know you’re probably all normal guys but…” Thankfully the elevator reached your floor and allowed you to trail off. “This is me.” You whispered, adjusting your bag on your shoulder before stepping out of the elevator.

In a way, you were relieved when Jamie didn’t follow you and after closing the door to your room, you flopped down on the bed. What you didn’t say was that you knew that you definitely weren’t their type...you weren’t blond or tiny...and so reading seemed far better than making a fool of yourself.

___

You’d met the girls for dinner downstairs and then they’d headed off to get ready to go out to the clubs. They’d tried to get you to go with them but you weren’t really in the mood for loud music and drunken people. Instead, you were going to walk around the hotel, maybe take a late night swim if the pool was somewhat empty or sit in the hot tub for a while.

Having slipped back into the same outfit from earlier you headed out for a walk and when you reached the pool area you saw that it was fairly quiet considering. There was one person in the hot tub but it wasn’t until you’d already started stripping down to your suit that you realized that once again you’d come across the Stars’ captain.

For a moment you’d debated redressing and leaving but then Jamie turned his head having heard you moving around and for some reason, he smiled.

“Mind if I join you?” You murmured softly, not wanting to interrupt if he wanted to be alone. When he motioned for you to enter the water, you nodded, wrapping your towel around you until you reached the edge of the hot tub before laying it down and quickly slipping under the water, hoping that the man across from you wasn’t paying attention to the shape of your body. The water felt great and you stretched your neck as you let your muscles loosen up due to the heat.

Jamie didn’t say a word to you, though you could feel his gaze drifting toward you every so often. Eventually, the silence was overwhelming and you bit your lip before speaking.

“So...not going out to the clubs with the guys?” You questioned softly, causing Jamie to look up at you.

“Nah. Probably not.” At first, he didn’t say anything more and if this was how this was going to go you weren’t going to be staying long. “I hurt my shoulder in playoffs and it decided to flare up this afternoon.” He finally murmured. Wincing sympathetically, you nodded.

“I hope you didn’t tear anything.” You sighed, knowing hockey players frequently played through injuries that they really shouldn’t. You weren’t sure if he would tell you what had happened and you didn’t expect him to though your comment may have suggested otherwise.

“Just a strain.” He replied, closing his eyes before leaning his head back, dipping his large body further into the water. When he reached up to fix his hair you could see him wince and you shifted a bit closer unconsciously.

“Let me see.” You found yourself declaring softly, motioning for him to shift. “I’m a chiropractor.” You added hoping that you hadn’t freaked him out. He eyed you warily and you sighed. “I’m not going to treat you if you don’t want me to, but at least let me make sure you aren’t going to hurt yourself more…” You whispered pleadingly.

When Jamie shifted so that his back was to you, you couldn’t help but flush at how defined the muscles there were. His chest and abs were one thing but his back was something else. Gently, you first ran your fingers over his spine, judging his alignment, before you trailed out to the muscles of his shoulder, mentally mapping their connection points. Pressing gently you felt him wince when you hit a tender spot that must be the site of the injury. Tracking back toward his spine you felt a large knot in the muscle which was certainly not helping things.

“Well, no wonder it flared up…” You said softly. “You’ve got a pretty large knot going which is putting more tension on your real problem spot.”

“Guess I need to see a massage therapist.” He shrugged though the action made it clear that he was in a little bit more pain than he was admitting.

“Or you can let me take care of it now so you can stop hurting.” You declared, raising an eyebrow. “I got my massage license before starting chiropractic college to help pay the bills...I am quite capable of taking care of it as long as there isn’t anything there that I need to be worried about aggravating…”

When Jamie shook his head you backed off taking it as he didn’t want your help. As you moved to get out of the hot tub he quickly reached for your hand.

“Wait...I didn’t mean no I didn’t want you to help. I meant no there’s no prior injuries in that spot.” Nodding at his clarification you still reached for your towel and climbed out of the hot tub and when you looked over your shoulder Jamie was frowning.

“Are you coming?” You asked. “I’m going to need lotion if I’m going to do this right and there isn’t any here…”

Within seconds, Jamie was out of the water and was drying himself off as well and within minutes the two of you were headed upstairs. “My room or yours?” You questioned not sure whether a) he had lotion and b) he would have a comfort preference.

“Either is fine.” He insisted. “You’re the one lending your skills so I shouldn’t be picky.”

Leading him to your room you instructed him to lay face down on the bed while you gathered lotion and slipped a real shirt back onto your body. Settling onto your knees beside him on the bed, you warmed up some lotion with your hands before gently rubbing it over his skin to warm the area back up.

“This is going to hurt a bit but I’m sure you know that…” You muttered, digging your thumbs into the knotted area with significant pressure. You could use harder pressure if need be but didn’t want to hurt him too much since you didn’t know his pain tolerance. This pressure would work, it would just take a little longer. Jamie flinched a bit but as you worked the knot out he began to relax. Once the knot was gone, you instructed him to move his shoulder into different positions: along his side, up perpendicular to his body and then over his head so that you could assure that there wasn’t anything else there besides his injury which would take a little longer to heal.

“How does that feel?” You inquired wanting to make sure that beyond your assessment, that he noticed a difference and wasn’t feeling pain anywhere else. Sitting up, Jamie tested his shoulder out a bit more before a relaxed smile graced his face.

“Much better. Thank you...I really appreciate it.” Knowing that you had helped someone out of pain always made you feel good and you blushed softly.

“Good I’m glad. Make sure you see your chiropractor soon though, you are definitely in need of an adjustment.” You added not willing to do it yourself without having imaging and access to his medical history.

With Jamie just stretching a bit, you moved to the bathroom to wash the excess lotion off your hands. While still in the bathroom you sighed softly to yourself, examining your image in the mirror. Your skin was still flushed from Jamie’s presence and your hair was going crazy from the humidity of the hot tub. The shirt you’d thrown on really did nothing for you but you’d brought it because it was comfortable. Overall it was hard to love what you saw staring back at you and once again you felt the wave of insecurity being statistically overweight brought.

Taking your hair down to run your fingers through it you tried to talk yourself out of your self-pity. After a moment, you turned to return to the room and were shocked to find Jamie standing in the doorway watching you. The look on his face seemed concerned and his eyes were soft as he leaned against the doorframe.

“How long were you standing there, Jesus…” You questioned, as you tried to slip past him to exit the room full of mirrors. Instead of answering you right away, Jamie’s hand reached out to stop you from going anywhere.

“I know that look…” He murmured, his fingers reaching for your chin when you tried to look at the ground in shame. His touch caused you to swallow hard, not sure why he was still here and why he was looking at you like that. With his large frame blocking your escape from the bathroom, you were gently pressured back into the room, Jamie’s hands turning you to look at the mirror once more.

“I don’t know what you see when you look at yourself, though I feel like I could probably hazard a guess if I had to….” He spoke softly, the dulcet tone of his voice making your head swim slightly. “But I feel like I should tell you what I see...even if you may not believe me.” You wanted to panic, you wanted to kick him out of your room, but something deep inside you forced you to meet his gaze in the mirror instead, watching as he took in your body’s reflection.

“I see a woman who has incredibly strong but yet caring hands. I see a woman who has natural beauty without the need for mountains of makeup. I see a woman whose eyes just light up in a way that not many can. I see a woman who has this grace radiating from her. I see a woman who has curves a real man can appreciate. But most of all…I see a woman who has no idea the effect she has on men or just how sexy she is.”

Jamie’s eyes had gone dark and while he had yet to move his hands from your waist, you could practically feel them twitching with the desire to move, to touch. With his eyes watching you, Jamie waited for a moment before stepping closer, the length of his body pressed against your back. His mouth dropped closer to your ear and you could feel the heat of his breath against your skin causing it to prickle.

“You can pretend that you didn’t see me watching you today. But I’m not going to pretend that anyone else even began to hold my attention from the moment you walked through those doors. You intrigue me. You arouse me. I haven’t been able to get you out of my head all day. The guys tried to get me to make a move earlier but I was stubborn and I missed out. I told myself that if I saw you again I wouldn’t make that same mistake twice. And then fate dropped you right back into my life at the hot tub.”

The way he spoke, the words he said, they all caused your normally logical brain to fog. For a moment you didn’t even hear him continue to speak softly in your ear but when your brain checked back in you couldn’t help but gasp.

“If you’re not interested, that’s fine, I know how to take no for an answer….but if you are interested I can show you just how desirable you are.”

“You can’t be serious…” The words of disbelief left you without even a second’s pause. There was no way someone like him, someone who could have anyone they wanted, wanted you. Though Jamie had felt solidly pressed against your back before, he took another half step forward to be impossibly close and now the fact that there was a bulge in his swim trunks was impossible to deny.

“Feels pretty serious to me.” He teased and as he pulled back his teeth grazed your ear lobe gently causing you to squeak. “But I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to...so I need to know if you’re in or not.”

Looking back at the mirror, you couldn’t help but really take in the sight of the two of you together in the mirror. Instead of focusing on all of your insecurities, you took in the way his body looked pressed into your own and the way your skin was glowing under his attention. Meeting his gaze again, you nodded and seeing your assent, Jamie twisted you around so that he could kiss you.

You had never been kissed like this. It felt like every cell in your body was suddenly pulsing and you couldn’t help but moan into Jamie’s mouth as his hands moved from your lower back to your ass. Neither dared pull back until you’d run out of breath and just as soon as you’d pulled away, his mouth was back on yours again as he slipped his hands down to the back of your thighs to lift you up and carry you back to the hotel bed.

“Don’t hurt yourself.” You chastized, knowing that you weighed more than he probably should be lifting with a hurt shoulder.

“Shush...I’m fine,” Jamie mumbled as he dipped his mouth down to your neck, kissing and licking at your pulse point before gently nipping down at the skin there, surely leaving a bruise. Jamie had never put a shirt back on, so you decided to take full advantage, your hands roaming over all of the exposed skin, taking extra time to trace his tattoos. It was clear that he appreciated your touch as a shiver went up his spine and you smiled at his reaction.

Suddenly, Jamie had rolled so that you were straddling him and his hands moved to the bottom of your shirt. You had no doubt that he knew you’d be self-conscious once clothes started to come off so Jamie made quick work of the shirt and your swimsuit top before quickly returning his mouth to your body, this time pressing feather-light kisses over the tops of your breasts and down your sternum.

“God you're gorgeous.” He breathed when he pulled back so that he could pull you into another kiss. “Nothing sexier than a real woman.” He added, his hands moving to your hips to urge you to roll them down against his own. The pressure of his length against your core made you whimper, a sound which turned to a scream as he decided that moment was the right one to latch onto your breast, sucking your nipple into his mouth. His free hand quickly reached to roll the other between his fingers and you bucked your hips against his again, feeling your own arousal begin to take over.

You’d pressed your hands to his chest for stability earlier but after a moment you gently pushed his mouth away causing him to flop back onto the bed. You needed a moment to appreciate him and you couldn’t help but bite your lip as you teased your fingers over the planes of his muscles and then down over his stomach to his hips.

It was as you tucked your fingers under the waistband of his swim trunks that Jamie must have decided he wanted more control because he quickly flipped you back over, a knee coming to rest between your thighs as he hovered over you. This time it was his hands edging under your remaining clothing and you simply smiled up at him when he looked down at you. Though you wanted to quickly even the playing field, Jamie shook his hand and took your hands lifting them up above your head.

“No touching yet or this is all going to be over too soon…” He growled softly and the intensity of his gaze forced you to nod. Shifting back on his heels, Jamie took in your body and his stare made you shiver once more. “Seriously...you’re stunning.” He insisted, his hand brushing over your hip before dropping down to your knee which had parted to allow him to settle between your thighs.

“Jamie...please touch me.” You pleaded softly, the ache for release leaving you squirming and impatient. From its place on your knee, Jamie rubbed his hand up your thigh but refused to touch you where you really needed him.

“Hmm...is that what you really want baby?” He questioned, a smirk on his face as he took in the sight of how much he had already affected you. You frantically nodded, though at the same moment what you really wanted crossed your mind and it was clear that Jamie saw it in your expression.

“Are you sure that’s what you want? Because I think there’s something else…” He suggested his thumb brushing over your clit for just a second before he pulled away. “You can’t have it if you don’t tell me…” He added and you couldn’t help but twist your head as a laugh escaped your throat.

“Rumor has it that I can’t have what I really want either way.” You teased back, causing Jamie’s eyes to go wide. Before you could even blink he was completely on top of you again, almost crushing you under his weight as his mouth sucked a spot just under your ear.

“Rumors aren’t always true you know.” He whispered darkly. “So why don’t you tell me what it is that you want and maybe you’ll find out about this one.” Though Jamie’s voice was dark, a peek into his eyes showed that he wasn’t offended by your joke and you smiled back at him before raising an eyebrow.

“I guess so…” You started, you hands moving just enough to run through his hair. “Though I think you know what I want. I want your mouth on me. I want to feel the scrape of your beard against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs. I want to feel your tongue on my clit.” The way Jamie’s eyes went wide again almost made it seem like he wasn’t expecting you to be so open with your desires.

After kissing you deeply, he made his way back down your body before ending up just where you wanted him to.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” He murmured before he dove into your core, making you moan out again at the feeling of his mouth and beard. The rumors were clearly wrong because there was no way this was Jamie’s first time eating pussy. Everything he did made your toes curl and whimpers to slip from your throat. You were very very quickly hurtling toward your orgasm and though you expected him to stop, Jamie just continued to eat you out as you spilled your juices all over his face.

Though your body tried to settle, it was hard with Jamie’s tongue lapping at you and after a moment, you pushed at his head needing a break from the sensitivity those nerves were experiencing. As he moved back up to kiss you again, making you taste yourself on his mouth, you slipped your hands down to push at his swim trunks, really needing his remaining clothing gone. He didn’t fight you this time, helping to kick them off of his body so that you were both finally completely nude.

Reaching between your bodies, you wrapped his length in your hand, stroking softly. While you expected him to be big, he was exceeding expectations. When you tried to flip positions to return the favor, Jamie shook his head kissing you softly before moving his attention back to your neck again.

“I’m not gonna last if you blow me. I need to be inside you.” He groaned, his words making you whimper.

“Condom?” You whispered and when Jamie threw his head back exasperated, you sighed. Of course, he didn’t have one, he’d just been at the pool with the bare minimum on him. For a moment you debated seeing if he trusted your use of the pill but then you remembered the stupid ‘supply bag’ one of the girls had made up for each of you. You’d shoved it in your bag without really looking at it but knowing her it was bound to have a few condoms.

Pushing Jamie off of you, you slipped out of bed and crossed the room to your bag, digging for a moment to find the gift bag, Dumping it out on the desk you smiled when your suspicions were correct and grabbing the condom you returned to bed.

“Thank god for friends right?” You commented, handing Jamie the condom and groaning at the fact that he had been stroking his cock while you’d been searching. “Holy shit Jamie…” You whimpered, the sight causing you to rub your thighs together in search of relief.

“Hmm...keep saying my name.” He urged, tugging you back onto the bed before rolling on top of you, his cock now sheathed in the condom.

“Jamie please…” You moaned, now feeling him pressed against your core but needing more. “I need you.” Leaning down to kiss you again, Jamie rested his forehead against yours for just a moment.

“I got you, babe. Going to make you feel so good.” His mouth swallowed your moans as he adjusted his hips and lined himself up with your core before slowly pressing in.

You had never been stretched the way that Jamie was stretching you now. Already you knew you were going to be sore tomorrow but it was going to be so worth it. As Jamie bottomed out inside you, you gasped at the feeling, a sound which quickly turned to a whimper because you needed him to move.

He didn’t make you wait long before he was pistoning his hips against yours, first slowly before settling into a more rhythmic pace once he was certain that he wouldn’t hurt you. With his body pressed over yours and his hands grazing over every inch of your skin it felt like he was everywhere and was completely overwhelming. You’d had sex before but it was nothing like this.

“More Jamie...more.” You moaned after a moment and Jamie thrust even harder into you, his free hand moving from its wandering down to rub over your clit.

“That’s it y/n...cum for me. You feel so good wrapped around my cock. I need to feel you, cum baby.”

You weren’t sure whether it was Jamie’s words or his actions that sent you flying to the edge before you even saw it coming and you screamed out his name as your body spasmed around him. Just as quickly as one orgasm ended another started and Jamie continued to praise you as you came again, pulling him along with you.

Rolling to the side so he wouldn’t crush you, Jamie slipped out of you before pulling you into his side and kissing your temple. For a moment you wondered if this was where things got awkward and he made some excuse to leave but instead Jamie pulled you into a soft kiss, his mouth moving leisurely over your own.

“Let me get rid of the condom and I’ll be back...promise.” He murmured as if again he knew exactly where your head was at. As promised he was back in less than a minute, this time bearing a warm washcloth to clean you up. Tossing the cloth aside, Jamie kissed you again before tucking his body around yours, pulling your head to his chest.

“God am I glad you showed up at the pool today.” He murmured, his fingers playing with your hair.

“I guess I am too.” You replied though you didn’t expect this to be anything more than a one night stand. Lifting your chin again, Jamie glared softly at you but didn’t say a word. If he was still here in the morning then you could discuss the ‘what now’, if not then well at least you had tonight. What Happens in Vegas, Stays in Vegas and all that jazz.

The feeling of Jamie’s hands in your hair quickly lulled you to sleep and if you gained nothing else out of this trip than at least you knew that someone like him could want someone like you.

[ghostflowerdreams]

List of Free Horror Games (2019)

This is an updated list of free horror games. The other list is old because some of the links on it are broken or the games are no longer free. This time I’ve included a description with each one. Some of these games you can even play right in your browsers (just make sure you’ve updated your Abode Flash). 

1916 - Der Unbekannte Krieg

Nestled deep inside the deluged trenches of the German frontline, you play as a soldier desperately looking for a way out. Hidden somewhere in the sunken maze of passageways is a ladder, and finding it almost certainly spells freedom. The only thing that stands between you and safety is a pack of dinosaurs.

3 AM

The city has been evacuated, something sinister haunts it at night, only a single path is safe, but to find it you have to lose your soul. A game inspired by H.P. Lovecraft. Specifically the dogs of Tindalos.

5 Days A Stranger

Trilby, a cat burglar, breaks into an supposedly vacated manor of the aristocratic DeFoe family. He quickly finds that things are not that simple. Together with a group of strangers, he finds himself imprisoned by some invisible intelligence. A force prepared to do anything to keep them all there forever.

7Days

It's a psychological horror game done in first person perspective. The game has very little plot or background. All you know is that you are a person who wakes up in a bed in a house. Your goal is to to get out of the house, but of course things aren't that simple.

Alice Mare

The game follows an amnesiac young boy named Allen who was placed under the care of a man called Teacher who looks after four other children. One night, Allen investigates the rumor of a mysterious voice on the second floor and when he returns to his room, he finds a strange black cat who leads him into his closet.

Animal Village

It’s a short survival horror game with light dating sim elements made for the Pixel Horror Jam 2016. The game is about exploring the pit in the middle of Animal Village, a quaint little settlement inhabited by talking animals. Don't talk to the bird-headed man, don't acknowledge him and don't trust him.

Ao Oni (青鬼, lit. 'Blue Demon')

The player assumes the role of Hiroshi, a young teenager who enters a haunted mansion with his friends, Takuro, Takeshi, and Mika (Along with Kazuya and Ryota in the original). Shortly after entering the mansion, the doors lock behind them. Hiroshi doubts that the mansion is haunted, but soon finds himself being pursued by an enigmatic blue Oni. Hiroshi must now find a way to save as many of his friends as possible and escape the mansion alive.

Ascension

It’s a psychological horror game in which you play as Atticus, a groundskeeper who has brought his sick daughter to work on the day of a horrible accident in his building. Separated from his daughter, Atty must survive the hordes of monsters stalking him and make it back to her before something else reaches her first.

Baby Blues

You play as Tommy, a toddler that wakes up to a strange noise in the middle of the night with a bright light shining in his eyes. Realizing his beloved teddies are missing; he climbs down out of bed and start to look for them.

Backstage

Tom Keller is lost. He has gone astray, and become trapped in a nightmare world that is a twisted mirror image of our own, tormented by horrific aberrations, haunted by shattered memories. He is alone behind the world, and to escape, he must come to terms with all of his sins.

Bad Dream: Series

It’s a series of short point-and-click games. It takes place in a creepy, dark and sad land of dream. Some of games will be a cruel and painful as nightmare, and some will be disturbing and illogical. Gameplay will always look the same, but the dreams will be different.

Project Entities: Blame (originally simply titled Blame)

This is a horror survival game. You have to dig into the game, however, to piece it together. You might also have to uncover a lot of the hidden and secret material. Epileptics, as well as those who are sensitive to light play at their own discretion.

Bunny Man - Lost Souls

It’s a game made in Slender-style where you go around and save people's souls from an urban legend creature called Bunny Man. Your goal is to save as many souls as you can before he catches you.

Candles

It’s a 3D game where you have to light up your house, which has been invaded by dangerous imps. 

Corpse Party Zero

It’s a survival horror adventure fan-made game by Noraenu created using RPG Tkool XP. It’s a prequel which stars two sisters mentioned only in passing in Corpse Party, Kaori Hasegawa and Shiho Hasegawa, who try to escape from the cursed school.

Corpse Party -Rebuilt-

It’s the remake of the original survival horror adventure game in the Corpse Party series made by an anonymous member of a Japanese message board with permission from Team GrisGris. A group of friends unknowingly perform an occult ritual that traps them in an otherworldly elementary school. Here, the vengeful spirits of young children threaten their lives and their sanity, and the only hope of survival is to uncover the chilling details behind the murders of those trapped before them...

The Crooked Man

David Hoover decides to move into a new apartment during a rough time in his life. After some odd occurrences, he decides to ask about the room's former owner, but learns little. So he sets off in search of him, strangely compelled to know more about this man...

Cry of Fear

It’s a psychological single-player and co-op horror game set in a deserted town filled with horrific creatures and nightmarish delusions. You play as a young man desperately searching for answers in the cold Scandinavian night, finding his way through the city as he slowly descends into madness.

Daily Chthonicle

You take on the role of a Supernatural Newspaper Agency boss and editor. The world it takes place in is a dark and haunted one, with ghosts, zombies, monsters and even shapeshifting murderers, pretending to be human after they have stolen their victims' bodies or infiltrated the humanity. It was inspired heavily by the works of H.P. Lovecraft and it builds on the atmosphere of uncertainty and noir of the 1940s.

Dark Deception

It’s a story-driven first-person horror maze game. There's nowhere to hide and nowhere to catch your breath. Run or die -- it's your choice. Trapped in a realm of nightmarish mazes with a mysterious woman, your only hope of survival is to find a way to escape the darkness.

Dark Dread

A missing teenager. An abandoned hospital. You are a detective who has to find out what happened to Helena Greenwood.If you don't go insane while doing so...

Deep Sleep, Deeper Sleep & The Deepest Sleep

You are stuck inside a nightmare dream. Something lurks in the darkness... Something in the depths of your own mind wants to pull you even deeper. Someone will escape this dream for sure. The question is -- who is that going to be?

The Designer's Curse

The first chapter of an unforgettable survival horror experience. Solve puzzles and work your way through this terrifying place. You may be more familiar with it than you initially think.

The Devil Haunts Me

Survive, explore and discover the secrets of the woods. But be careful, there's something else in these woods...

Devil's Tuning Fork

It’s a first-person exploration/puzzle game in which the player must navigate an unknown world using visual sound waves. Inspired by M.C. Escher’s classic optical illusion and the echolocation of dolphins.

Dissolving

Her ex-boyfriend became a shut-in. The girl goes to visit him... then things start to go wrong. They always do, right? Experience two stories about digital gods and loss. And remember -- believe in the net.

Disturbed

Play as a farmer who struggles to manage a failing farm. You come to a point where there is no more hope, and you must do something.

Doorways: Old Prototype

It’s an immersive and twisted adventure created before the official development of the Doorways saga.

Doki Doki Literature Club

The Literature Club is full of cute girls! Will you write the way into their heart? This game is not suitable for children or those who are easily disturbed.

Don't Escape

I woke up in a room... It is not locked and I remember everything. I'm a werewolf. Tonight I will turn and people will die... unless I find a way to prevent myself from escaping this place.

Don’t Look Now

Don’t look at them. They will drain you of your last sanity if they catch you. Direct your consciousness and reach your happy place.

Erie

Erie begins in October 1966, when the Fermi 1 Nuclear Power Generator suffers a partial meltdown, and locals begin disappearing from a sleepy Michigan town. Oliver Victor is a Red Cross Investigator sent to find missing locals, but quickly finds himself trapped underground and being hunted by a product of forced-mutation experiments.

Eyes

If you like Slender, you'll like this too. You’re to search an old, abandoned house and collect any valuables but be careful -- there are rumors of a ghost haunting the building.

Exmortis & Exmortis 2

You wake up in the woods with no memory of how you got there. Nightmares of blood and screams still echo through your mind. It's late and it's cold - unless you can find shelter fast, you won't last the night. You spot a house in a clearing up ahead and left with no choice - you decide to shelter there for the night. Soon after you begin to realize that death is a welcome choice compared to what lies waiting for you inside...

Fausts Alptraum

It’s an single player, puzzle game created by LabORat Studio, an indie game team from Taiwan. The story is based on Goethe's Faust. Players will play as a troubled girl wandering around in a crayon-drawn world.

Forget Me Not Annie

It’s a first person psychological horror game. You play as a 15 year old girl Annie who is trapped within her own mind and has to use her telekinetic powers with the help of Howard who you are able to summon at any moment to surpass puzzles.

From Next Door

It’s a short mystery-horror game developed for the 2016 Pixel Horror Jam. It draws inspiration from the works of Junji Ito and games like Silent Hill, with the story focused on the eerie and the bizarre. It tells the story of a young woman who moves into a new house, only to experience weird occurrences from the seemingly empty house next door. Depending on your choices the outcome will change and could even grant her safety or not.

The Groundskeeper

After a horrific accident, you find yourself trapped in an unfamiliar place where no one can hear you scream. There's a dark presence... A dark secret that this place holds. Is there any way out? Is HE watching?

Hello? Hell…o?

It’s a Japanese RPG horror game by Ryuuichi Tachibana created with RPG Maker VX Ace. You play as a boy named Kazuki that is going through strain in a relationship with his girlfriend, Akari. It takes place in a strange room where you have to accomplish certain things in order to complete all the endings.

Hide

Play hide and seek with someone who hides in the mist. All you have is your ears.

The House & The House 2

It’s a point-and-click flash horror game. Built in 1970, and deserted some time after that, no one has entered the house since the entire family committed suicide due to reasons unknown. Your goal is to search through the house to unfold the mystery of what really happened to that fateful fictitious family.

Human

It’s a short psychological horror game which examines inherent, earthly, and otherworldly evils, and the forces which drive them. As you make your way through an Alaskan auroral research facility in search of employees it quickly becomes very clear that something has become alerted to your presence.

I Can’t Escape

You have fallen into a vast underground maze. Can you find your way out, or will you end up trapped in darkness forever?

I See You

You play as an unnamed protagonist waking up in an empty hospital. However, it soon turns out the hospital is not quite so empty...

Ib

A young girl named Ib visits an art gallery with her parents. While observing the many exhibits, she suddenly realizes she is alone. And in her search for others, she finds things awry in the gallery...

Ildefonse

In 1935, Mr. Ildefonse was betrayed by his wife who then fled with their children, Mr. Ildefonse lost his head and unleashed a massacre at his home involving employees, then he committed suicide. The rest of the story is completed with letters from tenants who lived in the building, which was later converted into flats but haunted by the things that happened in the past.

In the game, the year 1977, the player is a lawyer hired to collect the testament papers in the house, requested by a family member.

Imscared: A Pixelated Nightmare

The player must find keys, open doors and search for the exit to this nightmare.

Lamia Nox

It’s an indie horror game made with RPG Maker VX Ace. Laura, an 14-year-old who is pretty much a normal young girl. But her life is changed for the worse when she wakes up one day to find that her home is completely different. 

The Last Door: Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3 & Episode 4

Free episodic horror game, with original pixel-art visuals and a gorgeous orchestral music score. Surrounded by a thrilling sound atmosphere, player's will experience a really immersive environment thought the stimulation of their imagination, just like classic horror writers like Poe and Lovecraft used to.

Leave

The game begins with the protagonist waking up in her bedroom, but it's up to the player to search her house for the backstory.

Lucie

Lucie, a girl who, after waking up in a strange room realizes that she is stuck in a lucid dream. She encounters evil beings and traps while searching for her body.

Lurking

It’s a sound-based survival thriller gae, where sound is the only way you see, and they hear your fears.

Mad Father

Aya Drevis is a young girl living in an isolated mansion in northern Germany. Since her mother's passing, she's felt lonely living with just her father and his assistant Maria. What's more, she knows her father's secret...

Mermaid Swamp

Rin Yamazaki and her college friends have their car break down in the mountains on a trip. Fortunately, a kindly old man offers to let them stay at his house. But there's a legend about the swamp outside the mansion...

Misao

It's been three months since the mysterious disappearance of Misao. No one has any idea where she could have gone, but many believe she's dead by now. And when paranormal events crop up around the school, rumors spread that she's out for revenge...

Miserere

In Miserere you explore the dreams of a lonely space station occupant. The unnamed occupant have been on this station for years, all alone. Needless to say, this has taken its toll on our poor protagonists mind. This occasionally shows in the dreams. But there are still glimmers of hope.

Nightmare of the Snow

It’s a RPG Adventure Horror game developed in late 2013. The game centers on Yuuki Shinozaki, a shy middle schooler who is attending a farewell party, but before that, she is taken mysteriously to a lost dimension where a mansion that was supposed to had disappeared for many years exists. 

Ningyo Heart

It’s about a man’s journey through a nightmare, in search for his beloved and finding his true self. The main theme in this horror game is friendship, romance and horror. Game play will focus on puzzle solving & survival horror (run and chase event).

Nyctophobia

You have a job. That job is to be a security guard during the night shift at a local office complex. You and Marley do it every night. Get decent pay for it too. Enough to keep you going. But Marley's just called in sick, so you gotta do the shift alone. Shouldn't be bad, right? Well, the power's just gone off, and I don't think you're alone anymore...

OFF

It’s an 2003 RPGmaker created game. You take control of a mysterious person called “The Batter”, who is described to be on an important mission. The Batter, and yourself as his controller, are dropped off in zone 0, the first of 4 zones in a perplexing, unknown world about which you slowly find out more and more in the process of the game.

One Late Night

It’s a short immersive horror-game experience, starring an unnamed graphic designer employee, working late one night at the office, until strange things start to happen.

Pact With a Demon - Episode 1 & Pack With a Demon - Episode 2

You must survive on an island after a car accident and find a way out, while several demonic creatures try to attack you.

Palette

One night, the psychiatrist Sianos B. Sian is requested to counsel a girl called B.D., who has lost her eyesight and memory in an accident. Through conversations with her over the phone, the past that hides in her memories comes to light...

Phantasmal: Survival Horror Roguelike

Experience Terror that is Never the Same Twice with Phantasmal, a Lovecraftian survival horror that evolves every time you play!

Pocket Mirror

It’s a horror game created in RPGMaker VX ACE. You play as a nameless girl in the journey to find her purpose and memories within a mysterious world.

Port of Call

Imagine waking up on a small dock with no recollection of who you are or how you got there. The first person you find is a grumpy, old man who enlists you to work on his ferry boat which seems to have materialized behind you.

[REC] Shutter

It’s a horror game that you must progress through levels while avoiding the paranormal and solving puzzles. You take the role of a reporter named Connor, who will be investigating Pennyhill, a dark hunted asylum.

Re:Kinder

Third-grader Shunsuke goes to stay over at his grandmother's house. Upon his return home, he finds not his familiar hometown, but a ruined town of death. He meets his surviving friends and some other children their age, but a crueler reality awaits them...

Schuld

It’s a surreal, psychological horror game. This is an translated version of the German game. Schuld (Guilty) is about a man who finds himself in a dying world, without knowing how he got there and why he is there.

SCP - Containment Breach

It’s a survival horror game based on the works of the SCP Foundation community.

September 1999

Its a free, VHS styled, first-person found footage horror game, which runs exactly for 5 minutes and 30 seconds.

Serena

It’s a point-and-click adventure horror game. How long has it been? A man sits in a distant getaway cabin waiting for his wife Serena. Where is she? Things in the cabin evoke memories, and the husband comes to a disturbing realization... 

Shutter

You are woken up by a sudden loud noise in the middle of the night in your recently moved into apartment. Moving boxes are scattered all over the place, still things left to unpack. All the lights in the house are turned on, but you're sure you turned them off. You leave your room to investigate, your trusty camera in hand.

Silent Hill: Room 304

It’s a point-and-click horror game based on the popular video game series, Silent Hill by Konami Digital Entertainment.

Silent Santiago

It’s inspired by the popular Silent Hill survival horror series from Konami. This horror game is developed by students of a Chilean university. The streets in this game are inspired by the reality of the Santiago city, in Chile, going so far as to recreating the plazas and the narrow alleys. The atmosphere, however, is incredibly eerie and similar to the Silent Hill games, with a thick fog covering the entire city. The goal of the game is to navigate the maze-like streets of the city of Santiago and to reach the exit.

Slender: The Eight Pages

The game centers around an unknown character being chased by the Slender Man in the woods while seeking eight pages scattered about various landmarks.

Spooky’s Jump Scare Mansion

Can you survive 1000 rooms of cute terror? Or will you break once the cuteness starts to fade off and you're running for your life from the unspeakable hideous beings that shake and writhe in bowels of this house? They wait for you, they wait and hunger for meeting you.

The Night That Speaks

You don't remember how you got to the graveyard, but you know you've been meaning to visit.

The Static Speaks My Name

A dark, sad, weird, and funny first-person exploration game. You play a man on his last night alive as he obsesses over a mysterious painting.

Try to Fall Asleep

John Herrin survived a horrible accident and as a result, he damaged his brain and lost his memory. Only Dr. Rick Norberg and the friendly robot "AB" can help John to recover from his brain damage and restore his broken memory. 

By falling asleep and rediscovering the past in his dreams, John can restore his memory and remember what caused the unfortunate catastrophe in one of the most secretive laboratories of the "Revivel" company. But due to John's brain damage, falling asleep won't be as easy as it seems at first... 

Vanish

Thrown into a Labyrinth for reasons unknown, you must roam through the darkness to find your escape. Do you have what it takes to get out alive? Or will you be another feast for the walls that seem to live?

Which

It’s a short game in which you look for a way to open the door out of the small house.

The White Chamber

It’s a point-and-click horror adventure game. You play as a trapped young woman from 3rd person perspective as she solves puzzles and overcomes the twisted obstacles in her path.

The Witch’s House

The young Viola visits a mysterious house in the woods. She soon discovers its dangerous nature and must find a way out. But the house is ever-changing, and death could be lurking anywhere...

Within Deep Sorrows

A demon haunts you throughout your nightmares, as it gradually makes its way into the real world. The only way to prevent this from happening is for you, Johnston Barker to destroy your diary, which is hidden within your third dream. Each descending dream makes it harder to avoid the demon, allowing it to become stronger, and more aggressive. The time period is set in the 1990's, though when dreaming, it is set back in the 1950's. You are not alone however, as your conscious speaks to you during the process, giving you guidance as you deeply wonder within your nightmares.

Yume Nikki (ゆめにっき, lit. Dream Diary)

It’s a 32-Bit game created by KIKIYAMA, a mysterious Japanese game designer. It was made using RPG Maker 2003. The players explore the dreams of a hikikomori named Madotsuki, where they encounter a number of surrealistic horror creatures and locations.

[thatscalledtoughlove]

Didn’t Want to Fall in Love - 5: Obscure Painting and String Duets

         Zack somehow managed to recover from a night of drinking with ease. When I walked into The Wandering Traveler at one in the afternoon, he looked completely sober. If you hadn’t been there the night before, you’d never know he had the ability to put most alcoholics to shame.

         “How did you manage it?” I asked, a grin starting to spread across my face when he walked over to me. “You look like you’ve never had a drink in your life.”

         He shrugged, hurrying away to take care of some customers before returning less than a minute later. “The alcohol goes right through me. I went to bed nearly sober.”

         I shook my head, not believing my eyes. Most people I knew would’ve called in sick to work after a night like ours. But that wasn’t the reason I was here.

         “Hey, so I left my backpack here last night. Did you—”

        “See it? I sure did. Very responsible of you, by the way.” Heat rushed to my cheeks and he laughed. “It’s fine. I brought the bag home with me, where it still is. Don’t worry, I didn’t snoop,” he added when I raised an eyebrow.

         This was the first time I’d observed Zack in the daytime. Our two previous encounters took place after the sun had already set, when the city really roared to life with a younger crowd. Now, looking at him under the artificial lighting of the ancient pub, I had to admit he looked even better fully awake.

         My eyes flickered to the clock hanging on the wall behind the bar counter and I involuntarily flinched. Justin and I were supposed to meet at the school in less than fifteen minutes. He hadn’t told me what we were supposed to do, only that he wanted to show me something. I tried my best not to interpret that in an inappropriate way.

         “Do you think I could stop by your place to pick it up after your shift? Or you could even drop it off at my apartment. My roommate should be home all day.” I knew Tony wouldn’t confront Zack about letting me get that drunk, though he’d rant about it to me the second I returned home. Tony was irritating that way.

         Zack’s lips started to turn down in a frown, but he caught himself and stopped the full frown from forming. “Yeah, sure. I could stop by later this afternoon and leave it there. Wouldn’t want to ruin any plans you might have. Uh, could I, uh—do you think I could get your number? You know, so you can give me the address and everything.”

         I bit my lip to supress a teasing smile, nodding instead. He interrupted me when I started to reach for my phone, turning to look around the room for someone. It occurred to me he was still on duty.

         “Write it down on a piece of paper and I’ll put it in my phone later. I’ll write mine down for you too.” He withdrew a notepad from his apron and flipped it open. I stood in silence as he wrote his number down, ripping it from the pad before handing it to me.

         Once I had his number, I took the notepad and wrote my own down as quick as I could while still making it legible. He gave me a close-lipped smile when I handed both the pad and pen back, telling me he’d see me around before disappearing to help some more customers. I just felt thankful my wallet had somehow managed to come home with me.

         A new text snapped me out of my daydream and I hurried out of the pub, switching between walking and jogging the eight minutes it took to reach the college from the nearby train station. Justin told me to meet him in the Fine Arts building that was at the far end of campus. I didn’t dare question it, texting back I would be there in less than five minutes.

         By the time I reached the front doors, Justin had texted me again. I didn’t bother to check what he said. We would be face to face in a few more seconds.

        The beauty of the building caught me off guard when I entered through the main entrance. A wide spiral staircase wound its way up in the middle of the main floor. In my three years of being a student, not once had I visited the Fine Arts building. Now, looking around, I wondered why.

         “Izzy!” Justin’s voice echoed in the building, the acoustics breathtaking.

        I looked up and saw him standing on the third floor, looking down at me. The building had been built in a way that all the floors were exposed, making it like one giant room with dozens of classrooms off to the sides.

         Somewhere far above, a lone piano played a sad melody. I could hear a choir practicing on the second level, the different voices mixing to create a beautiful sound.

         But none of those could ever compare to what lay on the main floor, directly across from me.

        Before I knew what I was doing, my legs had carried me across the lobby, to the art gallery on the opposite side of the floor. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat when I peered in.

          Footsteps pounded on the smooth floor, and Justin ran to my side, panting when he reached me. “I should’ve know this would be the thing to immediately draw your attention,” he said, a strained laugh following.

        I opened my mouth to make a witty response, but the words died on my lips when I noticed the case hanging from his left hand. My excitement grew, the art gallery temporarily forgotten. “Is that—”

          Justin grinned, nodding. “It sure is. You told me you wanted to hear me play, and Saturday’s are when I usually practice, so I thought you might like to hear what I’ve spent the past seven months working on.”

        “Are you kidding me? Let’s go!” I headed for the spiral staircase, promising to take a longer look at the artwork in the gallery after I’d heard Justin play.

         We climbed the stairs to the third floor, and my steps faltered when I noticed a girl sitting in the corner of the room Justin entered. Her hair was dyed lavender, her denim dress a light blue, making her olive skin glow. She smiled and waved when she looked up from her phone.

         “Hello,” she said, the smile growing into a grin when I looked at the instrument resting against her leg. “It’s a cello. I’m Melodie, by the way.” She held out a hand.

        I shook it, sparing a questioning glance back at Justin, who turned even redder. “Nice to meet you, Melodie, I’m Izzy. Justin never told me he played with someone. Well, I guess we haven’t been friends that long, though.”

         Melodie laughed, the sound amplified in the room. “We’ve been practicing a duet for the past seven months. I’ve told him countless times that we’re beyond pros at it by now, but he refuses to let anyone else hear. Which sucks, because I have connections that could get us a slot in the college talent show.”

          “There’s no way people will want to hear my parts.” Justin eased the door shut, ignoring the glare Melodie shot his way. “You may be ready, but I’m not.”

        There was some of the side of him I’d seen at the banquet mixed with the shy young man from the sociology club meeting.

         After a few more minutes of arguing, the two finally stopped bickering and told me to take a seat on the other side of the room. I obliged, bouncing my right leg as Justin hooked his phone up to a cord that I assumed connected to the room’s speakers. He took a deep breath and stood beside Melodie, who winked at me when we made eye contact.

        She raised her bow and began to play at the exact moment Justin hit play for something on his phone. The room didn’t have the same acoustics the hall outside did, but the music still sounded beautiful. I recognized the song after about ten seconds and grinned even wider. It was “Rewrite the Stars” from The Greatest Showman. My favorite song for an entire year when it first came out years earlier.

        I clapped when they finished, words to describe what I thought escaping me. Instead, I just nodded when they asked if I liked it. I looked at Justin and tilted my head to the side.

         “If you’d told me more about this side of you at the banquet, I have a feeling I never would’ve escaped through the bathroom window.”

         Melodie laughed at this, packing away her cello. “I heard about that. It’s nice that you two made up and decided to become friends. Anyway, I should get going. Wendy’s waiting for me and she hates it when I’m late. It was nice to meet you, Izzy! I hope we meet again!” And with that, she ran from the room and around the corner.

         “Wendy’s her girlfriend,” Justin said after a few seconds of silence. “They’ve been together since freshman year of high school and are disgustingly adorable together.”

         “I thought you said violin was your darkest secret.”

        He laughed, placing his violin in its case. “For the most part, it is. But Melodie and I were in band together in high school. She’s one of the few people that I know from before who goes here. We’ve been talking about performing in front of a live audience for years, but it hasn’t happened yet.”

         “Well, what are you waiting for? You two play amazing together!” I walked over to the piano resting against the back wall and started to absentmindedly hit keys.

         “The idea of playing in front of so many people terrifies me. You sound just like Melodie, do you know that? She always gets mad at me.” He finished packing up his violin and headed for the door, checking behind to make sure I followed.

         I stopped at the stairs and turned to him. “I think you should do it.”

        Justin shook his head, waiting for me to start descending the stairs before answering. “That sounds like a pretty bad idea. I just don’t think I’m ready for other people to hear me yet. Besides, the talent show is in two months. Any available places must be long gone by now.”

        “But Melodie said that she has a slot reserved for you guys!” We reached the main floor and I whirled around to face him, crossing my arms over my chest. “Come on, Justin, you’ll never know what might happen if you don’t try.”

         “Can we please change the subject? I don’t want to talk about this right now. I think we should use this time to get to know each other. Also, want to take a look inside the art gallery? I noticed you checking it out earlier.”

        I felt tempted to call him out of changing the subject but decided against it. We could address the issue again within the next week. “I’d love to check it out. You don’t have anywhere to be today, do you?” It would be nice to spend the afternoon with someone other than Tony for once. As much as I loved him, he could get on my nerves at times. Not to mention he was still pissed at me for getting drunk the previous night.

        “Nope, I’m free the entire afternoon. We could even find somewhere to sit and talk after this. If you’d like to, of course.” His face turned bright red like it always did.

         “I know this little café near my place that we can visit,” I said, pushing the glass door to the art gallery open and heading inside. “The drinks can get a little pricey, but unlike most places, they’re actually worth the extra few bucks.”

         “Perfect.” He followed me into the room.

        And so, we spent the next hour browsing through the student artwork at the gallery. Most of the paintings puzzled me, with their obscure images and color schemes. I stopped in front of a particularly interesting portrait, staring at it for a long time trying to figure out what it might be.

         A myriad of vague shapes filled the canvas top to bottom, pastel purples, greens, and pinks seemingly splashed on top of a drawing. Justin noticed my fascination and stood off to the side while I continued to examine it. After fifteen minutes, I figured it wouldn’t make any more sense and moved on. Another ten minutes later, we both agreed it might be time to leave.

         In the café, we each ordered a latte with a fancy name and took a seat at a table beside the shop window. I didn’t see the girl who had a crush on Tony anywhere. That surprised me, considering I couldn’t remember the last time I’d visited where she wasn’t present.

         “I think we should volunteer for something,” Justin said, wincing after he took the first sip of his latte. “The club said they need some people to donate blood, what do ya say?”

         The last time I’d donated blood, I’d been sixteen. “Sure. We’re approaching graduation anyway, it might be a good idea to get in as much volunteer opportunities as possible.”

        He nodded, taking another sip of his drink. “I can get the forms for us tomorrow. Just tell me a meeting place and I’ll wait for you there to give you yours.”

         “Okay, that sounds good.”

        Before I knew it, the day was coming to an end and Justin was walking me to my apartment door. He hesitated once we reached the end of the hall, still carrying the violin around with him.

         “I had a great time today, Izzy. So great that I’ve completely forgiven you for running away from me during our first meeting.”

         I rolled my eyes, another grin spreading across my face while I shook my head. “Once again, I apologize.”

         “It’s all good. See you on Monday?”

         “Definitely.”

        With that, we parted ways. I was just reaching out to knock on the door for Tony to let me in, when I received another message. I glanced down and chuckled under my breath when I saw who it was from.

        It was Zack, and he was on his way to my apartment. He said he would be outside the building in less than five minutes. I backed away from the door and ran down the hall to the elevator, surprised a small part of me was excited to see him again.

[stillwatcr]

i’m a lazy bastard and didn’t want to make multiple posts, so you get this massive post. some important links: their long form bios (x), their connection page (x), and for funsies, the pinterest board i’ve made (x). all are wips and i’ll improve/change things as we go! buckle up, y’all are going on a feels ride with my boys. trigger warnings are contained at the beginning of each of their intros. if you make it to the end, i’ll give you a hug.

( oliver jackson-cohen, cis male, he/him, muse 39 ) i saw benjamin goldman at the docks doing sketches of the boats. it’s good to see them, i heard they’ve been living in redwater for his entire life making a living as a lumberyard worker. did you know their birthday just passed ? that makes them 33 years old and a pisces, which makes sense to me considering they’re shy and tolerant. i heard they’re thinking about becoming a full time artist. i hope it works out. 

tw: death

the youngest in a family of immigrants, benjamin was the only child born in the us. this sense of displacement has been in his bones since he was born, never quite comfortable wherever he is.

his family came to washington to work in the lumber industry. it was a hard adjustment but his father was enchanted with the lush forests he saw in a postcard when they landed in america. while the reality didn’t match the dream, the goldmans didn’t have the money to go anywhere else.

benjamin has never known anywhere else, growing up and living in the logging camps around petersen’s. while one might think he would be comfortable in the forest, benjamin had a terrifying experience with the forest when he was just a young boy.

benjamin wandered away from the camp while playing and became lost at age 8. he wandered through the forest; crying, running from any noise in fear of bears, and sleeping under fallen tree limbs. His ordeal lasted for 14 days. he was picked up on the other side of the island by a passing charcoal burner, and returned to overjoyed parents, but the damage was already done. he had a deep set fear of being lost in the forest, and never wanted to go into it alone again. 

while the incident made him fearful and withdrawn, it connected benjamin with his inner mind, and made him an astute observer of the world. in his recovery, one of the secretaries from the mill gifted him a pencil set and benjamin learned how to draw. it’s always been a secret love of his, but he hardly shows any of his sketches to anyone.

when war came calling, benjamin was called on, quite against his will. he would have been content to live and die in the woods of redwater, but uncle sam had other plans. benjamin was drafted into the us army and to his surprise, became quite versatile with a rifle, owing to him growing up hunting.  

while overseas, he ran into one of the most charismatic members of his platoon, jack adler. benjamin was surprised when one night, jack revealed he was from redwater, benjamin’s hometown. they struck up a conversation, and became fast friends. jack enjoyed his sketches and encouraged him to become an artist after the war, and benjamin let himself dream that it was possible.

of course, every soldier has a tragedy and jack adler became benjamin’s. jack was killed, and benjamin was the one to hold him through it. he was the one to remove jack’s identification tag and his family’s letter, the one to write peggy, the little sister jack talked about on the nights he missed home.

benjamin escaped the war unscathed (though is anyone ever really unscathed?) and came home to redwater, to resume his position as a lumberyard worker. now benjamin is helping the company define its border, and he’s trying to find his own again. benjamin is trying to come back to himself. 

( tom payne, agender, he/him, muse 41 ) i saw peter lamb at roger’s diner getting a bite to eat. it’s good to see them, i heard they’ve been living in redwater for their entire life making a living as a manger at langberg’s. did you know their birthday just passed ? that makes them 37 years old and a virgo, which makes sense to me considering they’re critical and loyal. i heard they’re thinking about becoming a lawyer. i hope it works out.

tw: implied abuse, death mention. 

peter lamb was the only child of a happy couple of redwater. his father and mother had grown up in redwater and lived there their entire lives and as far as they were concerned, so would their son. they saw themselves as being on the brink of being legacies, and their son would be the start of it.

peter was raised like he was a king of his household. they spoiled him, and told him to reach for the stars. yet somehow, peter didn’t let it go to his head. peter would say it was because he saw how a doctor saved his mother’s life when she was in a car crash with him at age 10 (the event made him want to become a doctor), but he knew deep down it was because he was inescapably lonely.

peter had no siblings, no close friends, and he felt different. he didn’t see himself in the casual violence and anger expressed by his father, nor in the soft surrenders of his mother, he didn’t feel like either of them. and when he played with the children on his street, he thought each one of them felt like him, because how couldn’t they? if he was the only one to feel like this... peter couldn’t stand the thought of that, so he ignored it.  

when peter was 15, he got a part time job as a clerk in langberg’s, in the men’s department. it was there that peter fully realized he was different. other men didn’t look at each other like he looked at them, they were confident and knew their masculine side. peter didn’t feel like he had one, like he was entirely separate from gender. he wrote about it in a doeskin journal his mother got him, and hid it behind the baseboard, never to talk about what he felt. 

?????

he worked again in langberg’s, this time as the department manager. but it was the nuremberg trials, the proceedings that laid the blame somewhere, that gave peter the inspiration to follow again. peter knew he wanted to be a lawyer, to hold criminals to account and help victims seek justice. now the big question is just how to get there?  

( sebastian stan, cis male, he/him, muse 1 ) i saw abraham hartley at the uptown waterfront doing net repairs for his fishing boat. it’s good to see them, i heard they’ve been living in redwater for his entire life making a living as a fisherman. did you know their birthday just passed ? that makes them 37 years old and a cancer, which makes sense to me considering they’re insecure and sympathetic. i heard they’re thinking about starting a family. i hope it works out.

tw: alcoholism, child abuse, death, death during birth

abraham was born to a family already a memory. his father was half out the door always, his mother trying to disappear, the house almost slipping out of their grasp every week. abraham never knew plenty, only knew less.

and then, against the odds, a baby. but then elijah came screaming into the world and his mother did her great disappearing act for good. four year old abraham was left hollow eyed in the corner of the room, holding a bloodied infant, and his father gone to a bar to drink, his mother cooling on the table. that less had finally turned into loss.

his father turned his back on elijah and abraham had to beg from door to door to get milk, had to take his father’s boots off when he collapsed on the floor every night. abraham had always thought he had taken after his mother more, but as it turned out, he had to become her. he had to take care of her husband and her child, and became the heart of the hartleys. 

and yet when it counted the most, that heart failed him. a murmur, a murmuring heart, held him back from the jaws of war, and from following his brother to the great battlefield. but abraham had his own battlefield to contend with at home, taking care of his father, whose hard drinking had caught up with him. he had to take over their fishing boat, had to get up before the sun to set out on the water. 

and while abraham had his own fears and struggles to deal with at home, he worried about his brother, unable to protect him like he always had. he feared the war board coming to his door, being handed a folded flag. but it never came, and ve day did, and he could breathe a sigh of relief. 

and then scarce a week later, his father died. abraham had no money, not even for a potter’s grave, so he stole out of his house one night and wrapped his father in a length of canvas, rocks in the lining. his father slipped into the sound, and abraham felt a burden lift. he could move on now, no longer be that frightened little boy in the corner of the room.

and eventually, eli came back. he stole into their house like a stranger and when abraham looks at him, he can scarcely see the boy he raised. he’s not sure if they can ever get to be what they were but he’ll be here for whatever they are now.

[thelonguepuree]

Eleven Stars Over Andalusia

I. On our last evening on this land On our last evening on this land we chop our days from our young trees, count the ribs we'll take with us and the ribs we'll leave behind … On the last evening we bid nothing farewell, nor find the time to end … Everything remains as it is, it is the place that changes our dreams and its visitors. Suddenly we're incapable of irony, this land will now host atoms of dust … Here, on our last evening, we look closely at the mountains besieging the clouds: a conquest … and a counter-conquest, and an old time handing this new time the keys to our doors. So enter our houses, conquerors, and drink the wine of our mellifluous Mouwashah. We are the night at midnight and no horseman will bring dawn from the sanctuary of the last Call to Prayer … Our tea is green and hot; drink it. Our pistachios are fresh; eat them. The beds are of green cedar, fall on them, following this long siege, lie down on the feathers of our dreams. The sheets are crisp, perfumes are ready by the door, and there are plenty of mirrors: enter them so we may exit completely. Soon we will search in the margins of your history, in distant countries, for what was once our history. And in the end we will ask ourselves: Was Andalusia here or there? On the land … or in the poem? II. How can I write above the clouds? How can I write my people's testament above the clouds when they abandon time as they do their coats at home, my people who raze each fortress they build and pitch on its ruins a tent, nostalgic for the beginning of palm trees? My people betray my people in wars over salt. But Granada is made of gold, of silken words woven with almonds, of silver tears in the string of a lute. Granada is a law unto herself: it befits her to be whatever she wants to be: nostalgia for anything long past or which will pass. A swallow's wing brushes a woman's breast, and she screams: “Granada is my body.” In the meadow someone loses a gazelle, and he screams, “Granada is my country." And I come from there … So sing until from my ribs the goldfinches can build a staircase to the nearer sky. Sing of the chivalry of those who ascend, moon by moon, to their death in the Beloved's alley. Sing the birds of the garden, stone by stone. How I love you, who have broken me, string by string, on the road to her heated night. Sing how, after you, the smell of coffee has no morning. Sing of my departure, from the cooing of doves on your knees and from my soul nesting in the mellifluous letters of your name. Granada is for singing, so sing! III. There is a sky beyond the sky for me There is a sky beyond the sky for my return, but I am still burnishing the metal of this place, living in an hour that foresees the unseen. I know that time cannot twice be on my side, and I know that I will leave— I’ll emerge, with wings, from the banner I am, bird that never alights on trees in the garden— I will shed my skin and my language. Some of my words of love will fall into Lorca's poems; he'll live in my bedroom and see what I have seen of the Bedouin moon. I’ll emerge from almond trees like cotton on sea foam. The stranger passed, carrying seven hundred years of horses. The stranger passed here to let the stranger pass there. In a while I'll emerge a stranger from the wrinkles of my time, alien to Syria and to Andalusia. This land is not my sky, yet this evening is mine. The keys are mine, the minarets are mine, the lamps are mine, and I am also mine. I am Adam of the two Edens, I who lost paradise twice. So expel me slowly, and kill me slowly, under my olive tree, along with Lorca … IV. I am one of the kings of the end And I am one of the kings of the end … I jump off my horse in the last winter. I am the last gasp of an Arab. I do not look for myrtle over the roofs of houses, nor do I look around: no one should know me, no one should recognize me, no one who knew me when I polished marble words to let my woman step barefoot over dappled light. I do not look into the night, I mustn’t see a moon that once lit up all the secrets of Granada, body by body. I do not look into the shadow, so as not to see somebody carrying my name and running after me: take your name away from me and give me the silver of the white poplar. I do not look behind me, so I won't remember I’ve passed over this land, there is no land in this land since time broke around me shard by shard. I was not a lover believing that water is a mirror, as I told my old friends, and no love can redeem me, for I've accepted the “peace accord” and there is no longer a present left to let me pass, tomorrow, close to yesterday. Castile will raise its crown above God's minaret. I hear the rattling of keys in the door of our golden history. Farewell to our history! Will I be the one to close the last door of the sky, I, the last gasp of an Arab? V. One day I will sit on the pavement One day I will sit on the pavement … the pavement of the estranged. I was no Narcissus; still I defend my image in the mirrors. Haven't you been here once before, stranger? Five hundred years have passed, but our breakup wasn't final, and the messages between us never stopped. The wars did not change the gardens of my Granada. One day I'll pass its moons and brush my desire against a lemon tree … Embrace me reborn from the scents of sun and river on your shoulders, from your feet that scratch the evening until it weeps milk to accompany the poem's night … I was not a passerby in the words of singers … I was the words of the singers, the reconciliation of Athens and Persia, an East embracing a West embarked on one essence. Embrace me that I may be born again from Damascene swords hanging in shops. Nothing remains of me but my old shield and my horse's gilded saddle. Nothing remains of me but manuscripts of Averroes, The Collar of the Dove, and translations … On the pavement, in the Square of the Daisy, I was counting the doves: one, two, thirty … and the girls snatching the shadows of the young trees over the marble, leaving me leaves yellow with age. Autumn passed me by, and I did not notice the entire season had passed. Our history passed me on the pavement … and I did not notice. VI. Truth has two faces and the snow is black Truth has two faces and the snow falls black on our city. We can feel no despair beyond our despair, and the end-firm in its step-marches to the wall, marching on tiles that are wet with our tears. Who will bring down our flags: we or they? And who will recite the “peace accord,” O king of dying? Everything's prepared for us in advance; who will tear our names from our identity: you or they? And who will instill in us the speech of wanderings: “We were unable to break the siege; let us then hand the keys to our paradise to the Minister of Peace, and be saved…” Truth has two faces. To us the holy emblem was a sword hanging over us. So what did you do to our fortress before this day? You didn't fight, afraid of martyrdom. Your throne is your coffin. Carry then the coffin to save the throne, O king of waiting, this exodus will leave us only a handful of dust … Who will bury our days after us: you … or they? And who will raise their banners over our walls: you … or a desperate knight? Who will hang their bells on our journey: you … or a miserable guard? Everything is fixed for us; why, then, this unending conclusion, O king of dying? VII. Who am I after the night of the estranged? Who am I after the night of the estranged? I wake from my dream, frightened of the obscure daylight on the marble of the house, of the sun's darkness in the roses, of the water of my fountain; frightened of milk on the lip of the fig, of my language; frightened of wind that—frightened—combs a willow; frightened of the clarity of petrified time, of a present no longer a present; frightened, passing a world that is no longer my world. Despair, be merciful. Death, be a blessing on the stranger who sees the unseen more clearly than a reality that is no longer real. I’ll fall from a star in the sky into a tent on the road to … where? Where is the road to anything? I see the unseen more clearly than a street that is no longer my street. Who am I after the night of the estranged? Through others I once walked toward myself, and here I am, losing that self, those others. My horse disappeared by the Atlantic, and by the Mediterranean I bleed, stabbed with a spear. Who am I after the night of the estranged? I cannot return to my brothers under the palm tree of my old house, and I cannot descend to the bottom of my abyss. You, the unseen! Love has no heart … no heart in which I can dwell after the night of the estranged … VIII. O water, be a string to my guitar O water, be a string to my guitar. The conquerors arrived, and the old conquerors left. It is difficult to remember my face in the mirrors. Water, be my memory, let me see what I have lost. Who am I after this exodus? I have a rock with my name on it, on a hill from which I see what's long gone … Seven hundred years escort me beyond the city wall … In vain time turns to let me salvage my past from a moment that gives birth to my exile … and others’ … To my guitar, O water, be a string. The conquerors arrived, and the old conquerors left, heading southward, repairing their days in the trashheap of change: I know who I was yesterday, but who will I be in a tomorrow under Columbus’s Atlantic banners? Be a string, be a string to my guitar, O water! There is no Misr in Egypt, no Fez in Fez, and Syria draws away. There is no falcon in my people's banner, no river east of the palm groves besieged by the Mongols' fast horses. In which Andalusia do I end? Here or there? I will know I've perished and that here I've left the best part of me: my past. Nothing remains but my guitar. Then be to my guitar a string, O water. The old conquerors left, the new conquerors arrived. IX. In the exodus I love you more In the exodus I love you more. In a while you will lock the city's gates. There is no heart for me in your hands, and no road anywhere for my journey. In this demise I love you more. After your breast, there is no milk for the pomegranate at our window. Palm trees have become weightless, the hills have become weightless, and streets in the dusk have become weightless; the earth has become weightless as it bids farewell to its dust. Words have become weightless, and stories have become weightless on the staircase of night. My heart alone is heavy, so let it remain here, around your house, barking, howling for a golden time. It alone is my homeland. In the exodus I love you more, I empty my soul of words: I love you more. We depart. Butterflies lead our shadows. In exodus we remember the lost buttons of our shirts, we forget the crown of our days, we remember the apricot's sweat, we forget the dance of horses on festival nights. In departure we become only the birds' equals, merciful to our days, grateful for the least. I am content to have the golden dagger that makes my murdered heart dance— kill me then, slowly, so I may say: I love you more than I had said before the exodus. I love you. Nothing hurts me, neither air nor water … neither basil in your morning nor iris in your evening, nothing hurts me after this departure. X. I want from love only the beginning I want from love only the beginning. Doves patch, over the squares of my Granada, this day's shirt. There is wine in our clay jars for the feast after us. In the songs there are windows: enough for blossoms to explode. I leave jasmine in the vase; I leave my young heart in my mother's cupboard; I leave my dream, laughing, in water; I leave the dawn in the honey of the figs; I leave my day and my yesterday in the passage to the Square of the Orange where doves fly. Did I really descend to your feet so speech could rise, a white moon in the milk of your nights … pound the air so I could see the Street of the Flute blue … pound the evening so I could see how this marble between us suffers? The windows are empty of the orchards of your shawl. In another time I knew so much about you. I picked gardenias from your ten fingers. In another time there were pearls for me around your neck, and a name on a ring whose gem was darkness, shining. I want from love only the beginning. Doves flew in the last sky, they flew and flew in that sky. There is still wine, after us, in the barrels and jars. A little land will suffice for us to meet, a little land will be enough for peace. XI. Violins Violins weep with gypsies going to Andalusia Violins weep for Arabs leaving Andalusia Violins weep for a time that does not return Violins weep for a homeland that might return Violins set fire to the woods of that deep deep darkness Violins tear the horizon and smell my blood in the vein Violins weep with gypsies going to Andalusia Violins weep for Arabs leaving Andalusia Violins are horses on a phantom string of moaning water Violins are the ebb and flow of a field of wild lilacs Violins are monsters touched by the nail of a woman now distant Violins are an army, building and filling a tomb made of marble and Nahawund Violins are the anarchy of hearts driven mad by the wind in a dancer’s foot Violins are flocks of birds fleeing a torn banner Violins are complaints of silk creased in the lover's night Violins are the distant sound of wine falling on a previous desire Violins follow me everywhere in vengeance Violins seek me out to kill me wherever they find me Violins weep for Arabs leaving Andalusia Violins weep with gypsies going to Andalusia —Mahmoud Darwish (1992), trans. Mona Anis, Nigel Ryan, Aga Shahid Ali, Ahmad Dallal

[voyage-in-the-dark]

reborn playthrough

i played a pokemon fangame called Pokemon Reborn that sadly i left unfinished because my laptop just couldn’t handle the game, but it was the most fun i’ve had with pokemon since my first pokemon game, Sapphire, years ago. i love tough and difficult, Dark Souls-esque games a la Hollow Knight which is the biggest reason why i loved this game. the battles are so difficult! i love it! there are so little pokemon available that i was forced to use a lot of pokemon i’d never even looked at twice and pokemon that i usually dismissed. i also loved the little side quests where characters or pokemon had little events that allowed you to catch them, and my favorite thing ever is the Field Effects. they make the game so much fun and they make so much sense. so sad i couldn’t finish this

My members:

Ebony (Mightyena). She has Moxie -- she is a little wild and becomes savage and bloodthirsty after every kill. Because of the Lax Incense that she has been holding, she has a pungent and lingering odor that causes enemies to hesitate or miss when attacking her. She's a wild creature and obeys Rook's commands because that’s her 'pack leader'. She was taken in as a Poochyena. She attacked Rook, lured by the scent of PokeSnax, for food (she had been separated from her pack and was rummaging around the rubbish when she smelled the food in her bag). Rook realized she wanted food and gave it to her and she attacked it with hunger and energy. Later on, she began following Rook around hoping for more food.

RETIRED: Persimmon (Kricketune). Given to Rook as a Kricketot because she was listless and tired -- she wanted very much to see the world and her owner wasn't able to. Rook began bringing her around and letting her fight. She began to be more confident and a light appeared in her eyes. She was trusted and valued; she was an important and powerful member of the team; she learned to protect and take care of herself -- she had a killer Fury Cutter that allowed her to sweep opponents. She eventually evolved into Kricketune. With Rook, she saw sights and wonders and met lots of Pokemon. After a while, Persimmon and Rook decided to part ways. Persimmon had found a home with the wild Bug Pokemon near Beryl Ward.

RETIRED: Olive (Garbodor). Caught her in the alley. She has a very hardy type of personality. She was invaluable in the earlier parts of Rook's journey because of how tough she was no matter what attack was used against her; she helped Rook out from really tough spots -- Toxic Spikes and Toxic whatever that couldn't be defeated.

RETIRED: Chocolate (Lopunny). She wears a Soothe Bell around her neck, always. She was taken in as a Buneary. She travelled around with Rook for quite a while before trying out her first battle. She won and she felt heady and happy. After a few more battles, she evolved. As a Lopunny, she was swift and hit hard. She moves fast, and with Return, she usually could take down whatever enemy she was facing. She enjoys keeping herself clean and she likes to take care of her appearance.

Ivory (Excadrill). She was an Egg given to Rook. She hatched into a Drilbur and was named Ivory for her claws that were ivory-white. She loved to tunnel and she attacks by clasping her claws together into a drill formation before her and diving at the foe. This is how she used Earthquake, her favorite move. Diving, drill-first, at the ground by her enemy's feet. She never missed her Earthquakes. She loved to play as a Drilbur. She is often given Soft Sand. It is a loose, silky sand that boosts the power of her Earthquake. Her fur is silky and coarse, like a cat's. Rook spends time grooming her every night. Ivory also spends a lot of time cleaning, sharpening and honing her claws every night to prepare herself for any battles the next day. She is confident and doesn't fear losing. 

Mauve (Gothitelle). Her mother, a Gothitelle, let her go with Rook. She joined as a Gothirita and has evolved into a Gothitelle. She loves the night sky, the stars, the planets, the cosmos. Every night, there is a little period after everyone's asleep when she stands and stares at the sky, still as a statue, as though she was communing. She doesn't say much and her face is usually expressionless.

Jade (Roserade). She was a Budew, stuck on a high wall and separated from her trainer. Rook took her in and gave her a little Soothe Bell to play with. She came to love Rook and evolved into a Roselia shortly after. She has a killer Giga Drain that's quite harsh and harrowing to the victim. Roots whip out of her rose-arms and funnel into the opponent, sucking away the enemy's nutrients. Water-type Pokemon are very weak to this move because Jade can drain massive amounts of water. Jade is effective and gets the job done -- any opponents who are weak to her Giga Drain are badly poisoned by her Toxic and die within three turns. She wears a Miracle Seed on a necklace around her neck. The Seed is imbued with life force and Rook picked it up on her travels. The Roserade line have their own culture and young Budew in the wild go through a coming-of-age initiation rite where they seek to evolve into Roselias. The Roserade line live near flowers in the wild and flowers are a central part of their culture. They take care of their environment and meticulously drain any water sources near them of any pollutants. Because her tie to nature, the Miracle Seed is a precious and almost sacred item. Jade pauses before going into battle and prays to it.

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Reborn Day 1 (unfinished) I picked Cardinal, a Chimchar and was thrown into two battles. After the battle was over, I stopped and let him out. He was really obedient earlier, listening to all my commands, and I wanted to thank him for it. I know we're not used to each other. I crouched down so I wasn't towering over him and introduced myself. He has such lively and intelligent eyes and he was quite serious even if he wanted to keep looking around. I held out my hand for a fist pump and he looked at it curiously and then he looked at his own hand and imitated me and touched my fist. I patted him on the head. I wanted to let him wander around, rather than shut him up in the ball. He was a baby after all. I told him so and followed him as he cautiously looked around at first, then began picking up energy when he saw that I wasn't going to be mad.

A trainer challenged us when we went out. Cardinal tried out his Ember attack. He spat flame and he looked intrigued and surprised and pleased that he could. By the end of the battle, he was using it quickly and creatively, spitting fire on the grass at Yungoos' so that it was trapped where it was. He looked like he was revelling in his abilities.

We explored some more and took in a lonely Kricketot called Persimmon. She's quiet but apparently she likes to fight. I felt really sorry for her trainer and told her I'd take care of Persimmon. She's mainly keeping to herself right now. I feel sorry for Persimmon too because it must be tough to leave everything you've known behind and join a group of strangers.

We fought a trainer with an Igglybuff and a Ducklett. Cardinal was a champ. He was hit by two jets of Water Gun and he gritted his teeth and persisted through it, Scratching desperately at the Ducklett. He was shaking and shuddering at the end. He clung to me and I rushed him to the Pokemon Center. I've been letting Cardinal and Persimmon wander around outside their Pokeballs. They both seemed to enjoy it. Persimmon followed a little to the side, a bit shy with us, and yet not daring to go too far. Cardinal would range far to look around -- but always within sight -- and come back.

This place feels dangerous. People scurry about, looking wary. Groups of people cluster. The water is so dirty and polluted it's mud-brown. Pokemon jump out at us from any hiding spot.

A Cherubi joined us. His name is Charm. We found him in Seacrest's Secret Garden. He's tough and energetic.