#and then i have a mini rubbish bin in my room

[casbitchh]

my flatmate is super great and we get along really well but the rubbish bin fills up so quickly living with her??? she wfh and doesn’t have a bin in her room so it all goes in the main trash bin which is HUGE and needs emptied every week, but it used to take me 2 - 3 weeks to fill up a supermarket bag of trash when i lived alone 😩 we take turns to empty the trash and everytime it’s my turn i ☹️😞😩🤬

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Five (Part 2)

That evening Liam and I walk to the barbeque on our own. The two girls got Shane to drive over and collect them from the mobile home because they insisted they couldn’t walk up the beach in their high heels, but I told everybody that I would prefer to take the long way with Liam. He has been texting me since we left each other last night, and then all through the morning and afternoon today. It’s nice to have a person – a boy – to talk to. It makes me feel like a normal, functioning teenager. We text about everything, about our favourite films and tv shows, the kind of music we listen to, our messages getting longer and longer until they’re huge essay-length blocks of text on the screen. He makes me laugh a lot. I have to keep explaining to my friends why I’m grinning at my phone all the time. 

“There you are!” He says to me when we meet outside the surf shack. He is helping his dad to clean up the last of the rubbish left around the packed bins after another long day serving the holiday-goers. His cheeks and nose are pink and sunkissed and his blonde curls tousled after spending the day on the waves, and I feel a mini surge of affection for him. I’d never admit it to Kelly, but she was right about him. He’s very cute. 

“It’s a long walk down to this house.” He says, nodding his head towards the south strand. “It’ll take over half an hour.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” I say. 

“Are you sure? I can drive us down on the buggy.”

I imagine what it would look like if we rolled up to the barbeque on a dune buggy and I physically cringe. “No, It’s fine, really. I want to do the long walk with you.”

“Okay!” He waves a cheery goodbye to his dad and takes my hand in his. He leans down and kisses me. “Hi, by the way.”

“Hi!”

We have a lot to say to each other during the walk. It’s a seamless continuation of our text messages from earlier, and we talk about every topic we can think of. He asks me about the best holidays I’ve ever been on and the places I would like to go if I had unlimited money and time. I feel like his answers are more thought out than mine, as I can’t think of anything incredibly interesting or intelligent to say. My family didn’t have a lot of disposable income when I was growing up, so I feel stunted in the travel and experiences department. We usually just went camping around the country, but Liam in comparison seems to have been travelling all his life. 

“My favourite place so far was South Africa.” He tells me. “I’ve never seen anything like the waves down there, like, you could do proper mad surfing like what you’d see on TV. I’d go back there any time. Flights were expensive though.”

“I’d love to go there.” I say, even though I know nothing about it. “Someday, maybe. Or like, Australia.”

“Oh yeah, same with me. There’s also world class surfing spots out there…” He really likes talking about surfing, I think to myself.

The smell of the barbeque hits me before I see the house, and I realise as we get closer that I feel nervous to see it again. The last time I was here feels unreal, and there’s a piece of me expecting to turn the corner around the cliffs and find something entirely different in place of the corrugated iron house, but all of a sudden it’s there and I’m seeing it again and I know I didn’t make it up.  This time Shane and his friends are lounging around outside drinking beer and playing music from somebody’s portable speaker. They have brought some furniture from the living room out onto the beach in front and created their own little shore side hangout spot. Kasper, who is topless again, mans the barbeque. 

“Hey! Evie, Liam!” Kelly has spotted us and is waving over, and I’m relieved to see that she’s in a better mood. “C’mere, sit down with us.” We make our way over to the gang and I’m immediately aware that Jude and Jen are absent, but I’m careful not to ask anybody where they are. The last thing I want is to seem too interested. 

Kelly clutches my arm when I come over to her and I ignore the fact that she smells like cigarette smoke. “Try this” 

I take the cup that she shoves into my hand and take a sip. It’s like rocket fuel, and burns my throat all the way down. I have to try really hard not to splutter and cough in front of everybody, but my eyes start to water badly and I have to turn away for a minute. 

“Oh it’s delicious” I say sarcastically once I’ve regained an ounce of composure, and then I swat her on the arm. “What is that?”

“Tequila” she says impishly. “I’m having some tequila.” I thought tequila was supposed to be this tasty, fun summer drink, but I don’t think I’ve ever tasted something so disgusting in my life. I’m repelled by it, and desperately want to eject the flavour from my mouth.

“Here, Evie.” Liam hands me a bottle of beer with a wedge of lime in the neck and 

I gulp some down quickly to mask the tequila taste, and thankfully it works, a bit. 

“Where did you get that?” I ask Kelly as Liam and I settle into an empty two seater beside her. She rolls her eyes. “It was just here. I think Joe bought it or something.” I feel a bit bad giving out to her, I’m not her mother and it’s none of my business but I know she hasn’t been here for that long and she seems well drunk already to me. It’s a bit alarming. I glance over at Claire to see if she’s noticed, but I don’t think she has, as she is absorbed in a conversation with Shane. I consider his body language for a moment and wonder if she can even tell how obvious it is that he fancies her. 

“Cheers, by the way.” Liam says.

“Cheers” I say and we clink our beer bottles together. For some reason I feel a bit weird doing it, it just doesn’t feel like something that I would naturally do. 

“Lads, does either one of you want a cigarette?” Joe leans over to us and holds out an open packet.

“Oh, that’s really nice of you, but no thanks.” I say, but then Liam and Kelly take one each and I second guess myself and wonder if I should have too. I don’t want to be the only one at the barbeque who’s not smoking, but I also hate the way that that horrible taste sticks in my throat when I do. I look at Liam as he lights up his cigarette and wonder what it will be like to kiss him later when his mouth tastes like ash. 

“Wheeeeey!” Kasper suddenly raises his spatula and cheers, and we all look around to see Jude and Jen skid around the house on a pair of bicycles. Jude is holding up a box of firelighters like a victory prize and Jen has another pack under her arm. 

“We got the last two.” Jude says, dumping his bike in the sand. “Looks like everybody else in the village must be having a bonfire tonight too.”

Jen dismounts and leans her bike against the side of the deck. “Which one of you lucky ducks wants to help Jude bring some sticks around and make a pile for the fire?”

“Not you, no?” He asks her.

“Sorry, bubs.” She says and affectionately pinches his cheek. “You’re on your own, I am wrecked after that cycle.” She drops her box of firelighters and slumps heavily into a chair next to Liam and I. “It was uphill all the way there and uphill all the way back.”

“Lazy.” He comes up behind her to ruffle her hair and lightly shove her head forward. I find myself amused by their relationship. It’s hard to tell if they’re a couple or just really good friends. “I don’t mind getting the sticks on my own anyway, you can all stay where you are.”

“I’ll come” Liam volunteers. 

“Nah, it’s okay.”

“No really, I want to help.”

“You sure, man?”

“Yeah, it’s no bother!” He jumps to his feet eagerly and follows Jude around to the back of the house. I think about how nice he is to help out like that. 

“That’s a very odd accent.” Claire says bluntly when the two boys are gone. “I can’t place it at all.” 

“Yeah, Jude’s Dad is a yank.” Shane tells her. “Ma is Irish.”

“He’s lived here a long time now though.” Jen adds, pouring herself a cup of vodka and coke. “That’s why it sounds kind of mad-confusing to the ear, but I’m so used to it now. He sounds more and more Irish all the time. ”

“Talking about me again?” Jude says as he and Liam come back around the house carrying armfulls of sticks. 

“Don’t flatter yourself.” She says. 

“I was just asking about your accent.” Claire explains, and Jude rolls his eyes theatrically. “Irish-American.” He says, and dumps the sticks, starting a small pile nearby. “Don’t worry, everybody wants to know. Americans think I sound Irish, Irish people think I sound freakish. I’m not doing a good enough job of integrating, apparently.” I hear it more clearly now that I know where the sounds are coming from. Most of his vowels and the melody of his speech are Irish, but the odd word has still got that classic american twang. It’s the way he says “Job” – it sounds like “Jahhb”.

He and Liam finish bringing the sticks around and forming a pile, and then Joe goes over to help them light it. It looks to me like everybody is just standing around looking at it, occasionally making an attempt to light something on fire, only for it to fizzle out straight away. 

“City boys.” Kelly says as we watch them. “Sure they’re useless.”

“Go help them.” Claire says to Shane, and of course, he gets up and he does. Ambling over and immediately getting one of the firelighters to burn. The whole bonfire goes up in flames in what seems like moments and he grins triumphantly at us when he walks back over. 

“Go on Shane!” Kelly cheers. “Show them how it’s done up the country.”

Prev // Next

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[jihoonluvarchive]

.

[samaraj]

Title - The trouble with love (Part 9)

Summary - Drama before the wedding?

Pairings - Reader x Sy

Warnings - None

You did a quick mental note before closing the suitcase on your bed. You had packed everything for the weekend including Sy’s outfit and yours. Just before zipping up the bag your fingers touched the soft off-white organza fabric and you were suddenly thankful that Amanda had taken you shopping the previous day. Although you were eloping, you wanted to at least look like a bride.

While Sy was off with Corey to pick up your rings, you busied yourself around the apartment. You walked into the living room and contemplated vacuuming again when the doorbell rang.

“Just a sec!” You yelled out as you rushed to answer it. “Amanda are you sure …” You expected to see your best friend but your mouth hung open when you realized it was Jessica, Sy’s ex fiancé.

“I’m sorry to just show up …” Jessica stood there in her tight pink mini dress and black jacket. “Is Sy home?” She fidgeted with a shiny black purse in her hand while tapping her stiletto impatiently. She certainly didn’t look the least bit sorry.

“What are you doing here?” You stared at her feeling very underdressed in your leggings snd sweatshirt.

“I need to speak with Sy”.

“About?”

“Uh that’s personal”. Jessica sighed. “Look I’m sorry but I don’t have his number …”

“So you thought it would be ok to just show up here?” You felt yourself getting annoyed quickly. “Look I know everything ok. But you have no business with Sy now. What were you after? More money?”

“What?”

“I know his mum paid you off”. You folded your arms on your chest. “Don’t deny it”.

“Ok .. yes I admit that wasn’t my brightest moment. But I was also hurt and probably still upset ..”

“And that justifies it all?”

“I can see that I’m getting nowhere fast. Look I’m moving house and .. well I found some things of Sy’s”. Jessica rolled her eyes. “I would much rather be telling him but you’re making this impossible”.

“And you’re here because?”

“I thought he might like them back?” Jessica pointed at a box on the ground. “This wasn’t meant to be so complicated”.

“What things?” You glanced at the box. “Maybe they’re better off in the rubbish”.

“Listen I don’t have time for this”. Jessica looked at her watch. “I have a shoot in an hour so .. he can bin them if he doesn’t want them. I’ve got to go”.

“I don’t know how you found my address but .. “. You struggled to stay calm. “Don’t turn up here again. I want to make that clear”.

“Sy’s Mum gave it to me”. Jessica glared at you. “And no I don’t plan on it. Sy’s a bastard and you can have him sweetie. Just remember you’re having someone’s sloppy seconds”.

“GET THE FUCK OFF MY PROPERTY!” You were well aware of your neighbours peering out of their window but at that moment you didn’t care. “Sy left you for a reason you know that? He didn’t love you”.

“Is that what he told you?” Jessica glared at you but the redness in her cheeks told you that you’d hit a nerve.

“Yes he did”.

“And he’s with you because …” Jessica gestured with her hand. “Because he loves you? No sweetie. Sy doesn’t love. He fucks. I learnt that remember? He’s only with you out of obligation”.

“Keep telling yourself that you bitch! You don’t know Sy and I won’t have you saying another word about him! Leave or I’ll call the police!”

“Oh trust me I’m going. I don’t want to spend another second with you!”

You watched as Jessica marched off leaving the box at your feet. Your face was bright red and you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself.

“Bitch”. You muttered as you picked up the box and walked inside. You placed it on the kitchen counter and stared at it. Should you look inside? Was it just things like clothing? Your hands touched the edge of the box before removing the lid. Why did you feel like you were sneaking around?

You peered into the box. There were a few of Sy’s shirts, some photographs, a chain, some posters .. and then a usb drive. You picked it up.

“Probably photos?” You muttered to yourself as you walked over to your laptop and plugged it in. You opened the file labeled JessnSy and waited.

“What the fuck?” You covered your mouth with your hands as you watched Jessica appear on screen. She smirked at the camera and put her fingers up to her mouth before saying “shhhh”. She stepped back dressed in a skimpy black bra and g string before reaching behind her and holding up a bright purple dildo. She bought the object to her open mouth and licked it a few times with her eyes fixated on the camera before she wriggled out of her underwear.

Your heart raced as you watched her position herself on the bed. She got up a few times to check the camera and then finally settled onto her back with her legs spread wide. You felt your heart beat so loud against your chest as a wave of nausea hit you - yet you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the screen. You watched as Jessica pushed the dildo in and out of her soaked hole while she called out for Sy.

Your eyes watered as you waited for what was to come next. Part of you knew you should turn it off now and avoid seeing Sy with her but your finger still hovered over the computer mouse.

“Oh …” You felt your cheeks grow wet as you watched Sy walk into the bedroom and start undressing. He looked different in a way - his expression was void of emotion as he fisted his rock hard erection. Your vision blurred as you watched Sy move on top of her calling her a whore. Jessica simply licked her lips and spread her legs wider as he thrusted into her roughly. His hand grabbed her neck, pinning her to the matress while he pounded into her. You could tell that he was drunk by the way that he was slurring his speech. You watched for a moment and realised he was there to just fuck her, that’s what she was to him. You almost didn’t recognize Sy because he was such an attentive lover to you. But this Sy didn’t care about giving pleasure - he was fucking her so hard and when she squirmed away from the intensity he held her hip telling her to take it. “Give me your fucking cunt”. That wasn’t your Sy. This person was a stranger. Quickly you closed the movie and stared at the blank screen.

“Sugar? I got the rings!” Sy’s voice startled you and you jumped as he came into the kitchen. “Hey you ok? It’s just me”.

“Yeah sorry …” You fumbled with the mouse and realised that Sy could see straight through you.

“Were you crying love? What’s happened?”

“Nothing”.

“Tell me”. Sy wiped your cheeks. “Don’t say nothing when it’s something”.

“Sy I .. I did something I shouldn’t have. I invaded your privacy”. You paused. “Well I’m not sure if you even knew but .. I shouldn’t have looked”.

“What are you on about? I don’t have secrets from you love. How could you invade my privacy?”

“I opened a file .. I shouldn’t have”. You pointed at the box. “Jessica dropped it off. Uh .. some of your things? And I looked at this ..” You pulled out the usb and handed it to him.

“Ok? What is it?” Sy’s eyes searched yours. “Why the fuck did she come here?”

“To create drama. It’s a .. sex tape”.

“A what?” Sy stared at you. “I never made a fucking sex tape with anyone”.

“I think she filmed you without your consent then”.

“She hid a camera?”

“Yeah”. You lowered your gaze.

“And you watched it?”

“Just a bit. I stopped when you started to ..” You paused. “I’m sorry Sy. I wanted to see what was on it but I couldn’t watch you .. you know”.

“My god”. Sy sat on the kitchen barstool. “I can’t believe .. fucking hell are you sure it was me?”

“I think you should .. watch a bit”. You paused. “That sounds so weird to say .. go watch yourself sleeping with your ex”.

“Are you sure it was me?” Sy repeated as he scratched his beard.

“Sy I’m sure!” Your hands trembled as you plugged the usb back in. “I’ll give you some space … just open the file”.

“No”. Sy grabbed your wrist. “I’m not hiding anything from you love. If this is me then I had no idea ok? Stay … I’m not watching anymore than seeing myself ok?”

“Ok”. Your cheeks burned. This was not ideal viewing with your fiancé. You moved onto Sy’s lap and put your chin on his shoulder while looking the other way. You knew Sy had opened the file snd was viewing it by the way that the muscles in his neck tensed.

“Jesus”. Sy muttered. “I can’t … I had no idea. The bitch filmed it?” Sy closed the computer and wrapped his arms around you. “Baby I’m so sorry but I didn’t know. I honestly didn’t know. Fuck I can’t believe that was me. I honestly .. I must have been drinking .. I just …”

“I’m not upset. You’re completely innocent Sy. She filmed you without your consent”. You paused. “I know it was you .. but it didn’t seem like you. Well not the way you are with me”. Your cheeks burned.

“I used her love. I told you that before”. Sy paused. “She was just .. someone to fuck. Half the time I drank beforehand. She got used to getting herself off before because .. I was such a dick .. I only cared about myself”.

“You’re not that person now”.

“Because I love you”. Sy put his face in his hands. “I’m ashamed of who I was love”.

For awhile you hugged each other close until Sy broke away and motioned for you to stand up. He grabbed the usb and his car keys.

“I’ll be back”.

“Wait! Where are you going?” Your heart pounded.

“Trust me?”

“You know I do”.

“Then get ready for our trip Sugar. I’m going to deal with this ok?” Sy kissed your lips. “But you gotta trust me right now”

“Ok”. You stood on your tip toes and nuzzled into Sy’s chest. “I’m nowhere near mad at you Sy. It’s not up there with things I’d like to watch ..” You tried to joke to lighten the mood but his expression was tense. “But this was done without your knowledge. She left it here knowing either you or I would view it, it was done on purpose”.

“I know love”.

“I hate seeing you with anyone else Sy”. You whispered into his neck.”But this was wrong of her on so many levels”.

“I’ll be back soon”. Sy kissed you lips and waited until you nodded. “Just know that I can’t change my past Sugar. I wish I could right now .. I wish I was never with her. But I can’t change anything”.

“I know”. You sighed. “I love you”.

“Love you too”.

Hours ticked by and you paced around the house wondering where Sy was and what was going on. You kept checking your phone .. nothing. You assumed that he was going to see Jessica but you wondered what good that would do and whether he was simply playing into her trap.

You busied yourself making a late lunch because you planned on leaving for Vegas that evening. Grilled chicken salad it was so you started marinating the chicken while you called Amanda to fill her in on the drama.

“Are you kidding me? You are joking right?”

“Nope”. You put the phone on speaker as you started grilling the chicken.

“You watched it?”

“Not the whole thing! No way .. I couldn’t do that. But I watched enough”.

“And it was Sy?”

“Yes”. You breathed in deeply.

“Maybe it’s not what you think though .. she’s a bitch so maybe she …”

“I stopped as he started fucking her”. You said blankly, causing Amanda to gasp.

“You saw .. some of it then?”

“Yes. And just the small part I saw made me feel sick”.

“Oh honey I’m so sorry. She’s such a fucking bitch! I swear I’d pull her hair out if I came face to face with her!”

“I know you would”. You smiled. “But she’s not worth it, trust me”.

“So you think Sy’s gone to give her what for?”

“Honestly? I don’t know. He left saying he’d deal with it. But that was over three hours ago”.

You chatted with Amanda some more but then cut her off when you heard Sy’s truck. You washed your hands and tried to steady your beating heart. You were beyond worried about him.

“Sy”. You rushed over to him as soon as he walked through the door. Instantly he pulled you into him. “I was so worried about you. Are you ok?”

“Yes love I’m fine”. Sy smiled softly at you. “I took the usb over to a friend of mine that works for the police. I was a bit worried about the situation affecting my reputation considering I’ll be working there soon, but he was real good about it. Turns out that it’s a crime to video anyone without their consent”.

“Oh god”. You moved away from Sy and started pacing. “So .. Jessica can be charged?”

“My friend paid her a visit, let her know the situation she was facing. She came into the station”.

“What!? Are you kidding? I mean .. Jessica was bought into a police station?”

“Yes love”. Sy paused. “She was scared out of her mind. I don’t think she realized what she’d done”.

“Did you .. get to speak with her?”

“Yeah .. she admitted to me that she was still hurt .. she wanted to get back at me”. Sy tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t think she meant for it to go that far. She just wanted it to cause issues between us I guess”.

“Now what?”

“I decided not to press charges. What I put her through was enough .. she missed her modeling shoot, police escorted her from there .. it was degrading. And I guess part of me feels like I was an asshole to her”. Sy paused. “I made it clear that I never wanted to see her again and I didn’t want her bothering you”.

“Ok”. You breathed out deeply.

“And I told her that she needed to move on because I never loved her”.

“You said it like that?”

“Yeah”. Sy breathed out deeply. “She was upset .. said she really loved me and thought I loved her at one stage. I told her I was an ass back then but I’d changed .. you changed me”.

“Sy”. Your eyes watered. “Look I completely hate her guts but .. she must have been hurt”.

“To be honest I think she still has feelings for me”. Sy paused. “I think that’s why she did all this. I’m not excusing any of it”.

“She hasn’t … made any copies you know?”

“She had one and the one she gave me. She returned the other one to the police. She was scared .. swore to the police that she was telling the truth”.

“Ok”. I shook my head. “Not that I have sympathy for her but she must have been humiliated”.

“Worst thing was her being asked into the station while she was on that photoshoot. There were a lot of people there. She told me that she’d probably never work again”.

“Well she shouldn’t have done what she did. I hope she learns from this and can change her behaviour”.

“Me too love”.

“What drama huh?” You sat down on the sofa and watched as Sy moved next to you. He motioned for you to lie against his chest and you did.

“Not how I expected the day to go”. Sy paused. “I did get our rings though .. if you still wanna marry me”.

“Of course I do!” You laughed. “It’s going to take more than an ex and her sex tape to stop me”.

“Ahhh”. Sy groaned. “I want to laugh but I just can’t right now”.

“Yeah I know … too soon huh?”

“Way too soon!”

“So you won’t be making a movie with me then?” You raised an eyebrow at Sy and smirked.

“Now with you that’s another story love .. I’m up for anything”. Sy rolled his eyes. “But maybe we put that idea on hold for a bit?”

“Deal”. You layed on his chest and ran your hand across his abs. “Want to eat then we can maybe have a rest before we head off? Amanda and Corey said they’d come over at 5 and follow us down?”

“Sounds good”. Sy kissed the top of your head as his hand stroked your baby bump. “How’s my boy?”

“Good, just hanging out in there” You smiled and rubbed your stomach.

“The good life?” Sy rested his head against your for a moment. It had been a drama filled day and you wondered if Sy was exhausted as you were.

“Sy? Are you still feeling like doing this? I mean today has been really stressful for you so I’d totally understand ..”

“Yes”.

“I mean it’s ok if you want to wait”.

“I said yes I want to marry you”. Sy smiled. “I’m not letting Jessica’s antics spoil our plans ok? Not unless you’re re thinking things?”

“Me?” You looked at Sy with wide eyes. “I’m not re thinking anything!”

“Ok then let’s get organized”. Sy paused. “You wanna marry me or not?”

“Of course I do!” You playfully punched his shoulder. “I just … I just want this to be our thing you know? No interruptions .. not even in here”. You touched your temple.

“I get it love and trust me it will be ok”. Sy kissed your forehead softly. You smiled as the course hairs on his beard brushed against your skin. “You still like the beard love?”

“I love your beard. It just tickles sometimes”.

“You just wait till you have beard burn on your thighs tonight”.

“Sy!!”

“Well you will won’t ya?” Sy laughed. “Now go get ready woman before I give you a practice run right now”.

You rolled your eyes before getting off his lap and making your way into the bedroom. You paused to look back at Sy and watched as he gathered up the box from Jessica and went into the kitchen. You smiled as you heard him emptying the contents into the trash.

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@nefri-black

@suzystuff

@mcolbz14

@hockey91-lover

@identity2212

@thehunterintrenchcoat

@mizzzpink

@traceyaudette

@cynic-spirit

[tenthgrove]

listen, i don’t know where this thought came from and i don’t know where it’ll go, but canigetuhhh risotto with a tiny puppy. just, like, a REALLY TINY LITTLE BABY puppy. just, so so so small and he’s just like “holy shit 🥺” maybe it’s the reader’s dog, maybe it’s another la squadra member’s dog, maybe it’s just a dog that ran up to him on the street, idk, but it’s cute and it’s tiny and it wants to give the big mafia man some little puppy kisses! again, i have no idea where this thought came from - my brain just went: 1. Large Man, 2. Tiny Puppy, 3. ???, 4. Profit (the profit is serotonin)

Puppy! Puppy! :D :D :D

Risotto Nero mini-fic, no reader insert, SFW

Risotto guesses he should consider himself lucky. Not all shitty days are over this quickly. As Risotto follows the setting sun to the end of the street, kicking windswept litter into the road, he grumbles angrily to himself and broods.

He hates this. Hates sulking, being useless. He wishes he could do something more productive about his stresses than a walk aimlessly around the block to try and clear his head, but he hates more the thought of staying shut up indoors. He wouldn’t want to lash out at his teammates on accident.

The promenade isn’t far from here. He’ll sit down for a minute, try to take a few breaths, then turn around.

A gust of wind races along the road and Risotto holds onto his coat. With a clatter, a trash bin falls over in front of him, spilling rubbish all over the pavement around his feet. Risotto growls with disgust, and moves to step around it.

But something among the waste makes him take a second look. Rolled off of the curb and lying at the edge of the road, a dirty cloth appears to be... wriggling.

Risotto stoops down and squints at it. Something under the rag is kicking upwards. Then out from the corner, Risotto spots a tiny black paw no bigger than a nail, poking out.

He dashes towards it on instinct and scoops the rag up along with whatever creature was in it. Nudging the fabric aside, he meets the sealed eyes of a teeny, baby puppy. Risotto feels his heart swell at once with both adoration and anger. Why on earth would someone just leave a live puppy in the trash like this? It’s so small and defenceless, barely the size of the palm of one hand. But maybe... that was why the owners abandoned it. Maybe it was a runt. Risotto comes to a decision. He has no mind to return the puppy to the people who threw it out if that’s how they’re going to treat it, and he knows without a mother it’s chances are poor if he gives it in to a shelter. He’ll just have to take it home himself. Pacing himself briskly, he turns back in the direction of home.

As he walks, Risotto recalls hearing that puppies cannot produce enough heat to warm themselves in the early weeks of life. The last few days have been bitterly cold, and he doesn’t know how long the puppy spent in the bin. Thinking quickly, he takes off his hat and wraps it around the animal. It’s small enough to wrap twice, which he hopes will be enough to stop it losing heat too quickly. The puppy opens its toothless mouth and tries to sink its jaw around one of the bells. Risotto smiles. That’s it- he’ll happily lay down his life for this creature. To guarantee its warmth he holds it against his chest, letting it nuzzle against him happily. Anyone who sees can make their own assumptions, but Risotto doesn’t care how he looks right now.

The rest of the night goes quickly. Risotto goes home, tells nobody, and makes a frantic trip to the shops to get some feeding supplies. He falls asleep later than he intended, with the puppy lying across the room from him on a hot water bottle.

The next day he finally gets a proper look at it. He holds it in his hands in the warm morning light. The puppy has curly black fur and a pudgy little tummy. It takes its milk well and wriggles about happily in his lap. This reassures Risotto that the puppy is healthy, at least. He eventually forces himself to tell the others, though forbids them from bothering the animal too much. Perhaps on some level, Risotto is just wary of letting them see the adoration with which he looks at it. He could do without their teasing.

Risotto puts the puppy down on the desk and it immediately tries to pull itself back towards him.

“Oh alright, come here,” he concedes, picking it up again. He leans in close and it licks his cheek sloppily. He holds it at a distance and looks at it with frivolous confusion. “You are a strange creature,” he tells it, lightly touching his finger to its squishy nose. “Let’s see if you want feeding.”

[hymn2000]

So This Is Christmas - MCU AU (Mini)-fic

Story summary: It’s Christmas time. I didn’t have a clear idea of what to write; I just wanted to write a Christmas fic, so sorry this is so disjointed and the ending is a bit funny! Also sorry it’s late: I fully intended to post it before Christmas but Life got in the way, and then I was ill too.

Warnings/themes: Christmas, family stuff, family conflict, arguments, mild injury, grief, friendship, uncertainty, hurt/comfort?

You can also find me on AO3

-

Peter slammed his bedroom door hard behind him.

“DON’T SLAM THE DOORS!!” Tony yelled.

“IT’S MY DOOR AND I’LL SLAM IT IF I WANT TO!” Peter shouted back.

He turned on his CD player, loaded a disc, turned the volume up high, and hit play. Tony started shouting almost straight away. Peter ignored him and turned the volume up higher. Sure enough, Tony soon stormed into the bedroom and turned the CD player off.

“Hey! I was listening to that!” Peter protested.

“Tough! You only put it on to annoy me. Now you behave yourself, or else!”

“Or else what?! What exactly are you gonna do?!”

“I’ll tell your father, and-”

“I don’t care!” Peter interrupted. “Leave me alone!”

“Fine! But you keep your music turned down or that player and all your CDs are going in the bin”

Peter imitated him behind his back. Tony left the room, and Peter turned his CD player back on. He turned the volume down to a just-about-reasonable level and flopped on the bed. He looked at the clock. It was only 10am. It would be interesting to see how the rest of the day played out.

-

Loki raised an eyebrow at the sight of Tony angrily screwing new bulbs into a string of Christmas lights.

“Those little lights causing you trouble, my darling?” he said, getting his mug down from his cupboard.

“That boy is doing my bloody head in!” Tony hissed. “He’s an absolute devil sometimes”

“Why, what’s he done?”

“Oh, he’s just being a git” 

“I see” he turned the kettle on and watched Tony for a moment. “Are they all broken?”

“No, just a few of them. Mainly down to our little boy, I’m sure” Tony grumbled. “Good job I tested them before putting them on the tree”

“You’re rubbish at putting lights on the tree anyway” Loki said. “You’re good at fixing them though, it seems. Tea?”

“Uhh, coffee” Tony said, securing the last new bulb and switching the lights on to test them. “There! So, when are we doing this tree?”

“This evening. I’m going to have a drink and get some stuff done this afternoon before we get the grotto back up”

“Well, I’ll set the tree itself up. I got everything out and just dumped it in the living room. You’re better at arranging the decs”

“Peter’s good at it too”

“He’s not helping”

“What? He has to help. He’s helped every year since I met him, and I daresay he’s been looking forward to it”

“Tough, he lost his decorating privileges when he decided to be a little terror today”

“That’s a bit harsh” Loki said. 

“He’s in a major strop now anyway” Tony said. “He probably wouldn’t join in even if you asked him too”

Loki sighed silently and focused on making the drinks. He’d talk to Peter later.

-

Loki turned down the volume on Peter’s CD player.

“Perhaps a Christmas playlist would be more fitting, considering the occasion?”

“I don’t have a Christmas CD” Peter said simply.

He paused and then got up and turned the player off. 

“I gather you and your dad have had a bit of a falling out” Loki said.

“Oh, he’s just being a git” 

“Funny, he said exactly the same thing about you” Loki said, sitting down on the bed. “Care to share?”

“Well, he’s just being stupid, going on about swim team again”

“Why? Did you tell him you were thinking about quitting?”

“No” Peter said. “But, well, there was meant to be this big training thing on Saturday with a bunch of other schools, only I didn’t really want to go, so when I realised dad forgot, I just didn’t remind him about it. So I missed it, obviously, but today he was sorting out his memos and stuff and came across the memo for that and then he asked me about it and I just kinda shrugged so he just kicked off at me. Like he does”

Loki sighed. “Peter, I think it’s time you had a proper conversation with him about this. What excuse did you give Mr Musgrove?”

Peter shrugged. “Just told him I was ill”

Loki sighed again. “It’s high time you just quit, sweetie”

“Oh yeah, like that’s ever gonna happen” Peter scowled. “Dad would literally murder me”

“You need to talk to him about it, then. There’s no point wasting your time skipping practice and coming up with excuses to get out of events. If you’re not getting anything out of it anymore, it’s a waste of time and effort for everyone involved. Do people know you’re not enjoying it?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. Well, Millie and Flo do, because I’ve told them, but I don’t think anyone else knows. I’ve had a lot of time off school this year anyway, so I wouldn’t’ve been at practice and stuff even if I still enjoyed it. I never really wanted to join in the first place. I’ve never enjoyed it the way dad thinks I do anyway”

Loki closed his eyes for a moment and pinched the bridge of his nose. “...I think this is a problem for another day"

“It’s an ongoing problem” Peter scowled.

Loki sighed heavily. 

“What?”

“Nothing. Well, not nothing” Loki shook his head slightly. “I just don’t know why you two have to keep fighting and falling out”

“It’s not my fault” Peter said. “He’s just being unreasonable. Remember how he reacted when I said I wanted a tattoo based on Skyline Pigeon? It’s like he’s just looking for any excuse to get angry with me. Maybe he’s having a midlife crisis”

“That’s not funny, Peter” Loki sighed.

“I’m not trying to be funny. He’s been weird for ages now. He got angry at me for singing I Think I’m Going To Kill Myself yesterday too”

“Well-”

“It’s a banger! How could I help but sing it if it was stuck in my head?”

“Mm. Well. You’ll have to sort out your differences eventually” Loki made for the door, and paused. “Do you want to come and help me out for a little bit?”

Peter just glared at him, so Loki sighed and left, shutting the door behind him. It wasn’t worth the hassle.

-

Peter knocked and entered the spare room, which was currently acting as Loki’s crochet workshop. He looked round the room at the various creations, the craft boxes and baskets, and the scraps of wool and fabric. He looked at his father, sat on the bed, propped up on his special support cushion, working away.

“Hi, daddy”

“Hello, Peter” Loki said, not looking up.

Peter carefully sat down on the edge of the bed by Loki’s feet. He had a feeling Loki was still feeling a bit funny about their almost-tiff earlier that day.

“...What are you making?”

“A hat”

“Oh, cute” Peter nodded. “Who’s it for?”

“Someone little and sweet”

“Oh! Um, that’s real kind of you, daddy, but it looks a bit small, and yellow isn’t really my colour” Peter gabbled, feeling a little flustered.

Loki laughed. “I’ll say!” he shook his head slightly. “It’s not for you, sweetie: it’s for a charity we’re supporting at the hospital who give clothes and other essentials to babies born into poverty. Jo Jo’s been making little jackets”

“Oohhh! Oh, cute! How many have you made?”

“Oh, a few” Loki said. “They don’t take very long”

Peter looked closer at what he was doing. “It all looks so neat and stuff, like knitting”

“Well, it’s a similar craft” Loki said.

“Mm... It’s different to what those blankets you made after May died look like”

“It’s a different type of stitch”

“...Why yellow?”

“Well, humans seem to see it as a gender-neutral colour for babies. I’ve done some white ones too, but I had lots of yellow wool in my bag, so I thought I may as well use it up”

Peter nodded, watching the speed and skill with which his father worked. It still felt a bit funny, seeing Loki - God of Mischief, self-proclaimed and publicly proclaimed Hard Man - doing crochet - but in some way it was fitting, too: Loki was strange and unpredictable, and Peter felt this echoed that fact.

“Are you gonna do some Christmas ones?”

“I don’t think so” Loki said. “It’s better keeping them plain: that way they can be used for longer”

“Oh, that’s a good point” Peter said. 

They sat quietly for a minute or two, and then Loki stopped and set his current project aside. He looked at Peter.

“Are you alright?”

“...I don’t know”

Loki held an arm out to him, and Peter crawled over and clambered onto his lap, leaning his side against his chest. Loki held him close, rubbing his arm firmly.

“I heard you and Tony shouting again earlier. Another falling out?” 

“Mm”

“Care to share?”

“Oh, he’s just cross because I went and said I was thinking of quitting the swim team. Like you suggested”

“Ah. That explains it” he sighed. “Still, can’t you go five minutes without biting each others heads off? Besides, I didn’t say you had to bring it up today”

Peter shrugged. He didn’t feel like he was the one at fault. “Can you talk to him about it?”

“I can try” Loki promised. “Now, are you going to help put these Christmas decs up today or not?”

“Yes!” Peter said, immediately brightening. “Can we have that hot spiced cider stuff?”

“No, sweetheart”

“Well, why not?” Peter demanded.

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man!” Loki said. He sighed. “Remember your father’s weekly commitments?”

Peter felt himself turning red. “Oh yeah. Sorry; I forgot for a moment there”

He looked away, feeling a bit awkward and guilty.

“No matter, chick” Loki said. “You didn’t mean anything by it. I can do some sort of spiced apple juice though, if you’d like”

“Oh, that could be good!” Peter said. “Have we got any biscuits?”

“Nothing homemade, if that’s what you’re after” Loki said. “We’ll have to see what I’ve got in my cupboard”

“Nice! Are we going now?”

“We’ll have to see if Tony’s ready” Loki said. “He said he was working on something downstairs. Would you like to go and see if he’s free?”

“Oh, um...” Peter shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know. I think he might still be cross with me”

“Alright” Loki sighed. He gave Peter a little pat. “Shift. I’ll go”

“No, it’s ok!” Peter said, worried he might have upset him. “I’ll go. You wait here!”

Loki couldn’t help but chuckle as Peter rushed off. He was a funny little kid.

-

Peter vaulted the main staircase and bounded down the stairs to the lab, punching the code in and throwing the door open.

“Hey, dad!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Tony said, quickly throwing a tarp over something on the workbench. He seemed in a much better mood now he’d spent a few hours juggling tools.

“What are you working on?”

“Never you mind!” Tony said, quickly going over to him and putting an arm round his shoulders. “What brings you down here? I thought I told you the lab was out of bounds”

“Did you? I don’t remember” Peter said, truthfully enough. “Are you still busy?”

“Why? Did you need something?”

“Aren’t we gonna put the Christmas stuff up today?”

“Ah, yes! I’d forgotten. You know me; always getting lost in my work”

“Yeah, you’re filthy too”

“Hey! Don’t be cheeky” he inspected his hands and shirt. “Alright, you’re not wrong. I got all the stuff and put it in the living room earlier. Go and annoy your father for a bit while I take a shower, and then we’ll get some decorations up, ok?”

“Are you calling me annoying?”

Tony sighed. “Don’t start, kiddo”

“I’m not starting anything!”

“Then don’t. Right, I’m gonna have that shower. Out of here now: I need to lock up”

Peter rolled his eyes and stalked off back up the stairs. Suddenly his sour mood was back.

-

Peter sat rocking on one of the kitchen chairs while Loki was making spiced apple juice.

“You’ll fall and crack your head open if you’re not careful” 

Peter scowled and continued rocking.

“Peter, stop it”

“Why should I?”

“Because I said so! Now stop it”

Peter didn’t, tipping his chair right back on its back legs and letting it drop back onto all fours at the last second. He kept doing it, and the chair creaked ominously.

“Peter, I told you to stop!” Loki snapped.

Peter pouted, pausing. Loki looked back to the saucepan on the hob, and Peter resumed rocking back on his chair. He could see Loki twitching with irritation, but he didn’t care. He kept doing what he was doing, grumbling to himself. 

He tipped back a little too far - the legs slipped, and the chair fell backwards to the floor with a clatter, taking Peter with it. 

Peter squeaked as it happened, but fell silent in shock after he hit the floor. 

“Peter!” Loki rushed to his side. “You silly child! Are you ok?!”

“I...I think so” Peter mumbled, trying to work out if he was hurting anywhere. 

Loki breathed out. “For goodness sake, Peter! What did I tell you?!”

“...I didn’t crack my head open” Peter said, and he dared grin.

Loki growled, grabbing him by the elbow and sitting him up.

“I told you to stop, and you just ignored me! You’re lucky you haven’t seriously hurt yourself! Do you know how many kids I see on a daily basis who have hurt themselves in the same silly manner??”

“Um-”

“Not many, because most of them know how to listen to their parents!” Loki snapped. “Now, are you sure you’re ok? Did you hit your head?”

"I’m not sure...”

Loki gave him the once over. He was a bit shaky from the shock of the fall, but he seemed ok, aside from bashed elbows and a bump on the back of his head. Loki fetched an ice pack, which he gave to Peter to hold against his head. He sighed heavily.

“You silly kid” he said, helping him to his feet. “Right, go to your room”

“What?! Why?!”

“You know why! Now do as you’re told!”

“But-!”

“But nothing! I’ll come and get your when your father’s ready to do the decs. Now go to your room and try to stay out of mischief. And keep that ice pack on”

Peter sighed heavily, but he knew he didn’t really have a choice. He went off to his room in a huff and flopped on the bed. He kept the ice pack against his sore head, grumbling to himself. He was still feeling a bit shaky. Besides, he had a sneaky suspicion that he was in trouble with Loki now. That was a stress he could really do without.

-

Peter fell asleep for a bit, and he wasn’t very happy to be woken up.

“That face!” Tony laughed. “Don’t look so dismayed. Daddy’s done spiced apple if you want some”

Peter tried to pull a pillow over his face, but Tony grabbed it from him.

“Oi, get up” he said. “You can sleep after we’ve done the tree and stuff”

“I can’t be bothered”

“Tough” Tony said, grabbing him and hauling him to his feet. “You know you love decorating the tree. Don’t be a spoilsport”

Peter sighed heavily. “Fine, but I wanna get some of that drink first, ok?”

“Ok. Daddy’s gonna want to put the lights and beads on by himself anyway. He says I’m rubbish at it”

“You are rubbish at it” Peter said, walking through to the kitchen with him. “It goes all lopsided and uneven when you do it”

“Alright, I’ll give you that one” Tony said, pushing him into the kitchen. “Hey Lolly, get a big glass of that stuff served up for the sprog”

“Already done” Loki said, nodding at the Christmas glass on the counter. “Are you having some?”

“Sure am. It’s not Christmas without an experimental spiced Loki-drink” Tony said.

“I’ll take that as a compliment” Loki said, serving him a glass and fixing one for himself. He took a sip. “Well, I’d better get the lights on that tree”

“I’ll stick the Crimbo playlist on” Tony said. He looked at Peter. “What’s the kid gonna do?”

“He can sit with his drink and wake himself up a bit” Loki said. He looked at Peter. “How’s your head?”

Peter shrugged. Loki and Tony sighed and shook their heads at each other. Peter scowled. 

“Right, living room” Tony said. “May as well make ourselves comfortable until we’re needed”

-

Peter sidled up to Tony while Loki was sorting the fairy lights.

“Why does he take Christmas so seriously? Why does he like it so much?” he asked quietly.

Tony was a little surprised at his question. He put an arm round Peter’s shoulders.

“You know, I think he’s still getting used to Earth, even though he’s lived here for quite a while now” Tony said. “I think... I think he needs something to turn to. You know he’s had a tough time, but you don’t know the half of it. He’s not had a great life, and I suppose something as mundane as human life is comforting. Something about the Christmas season really seems to do him good”

“Is it because of when you first got together?”

“Maybe a little bit” Tony laughed slightly. “He was so amazed by it all that first year. Art, music, medicine. Christmas. Four things he really loved and was interested in right from the start”

“Well...” Peter thought for a moment. “He’s incorporated all that stuff into his life”

“Yeah, he has” Tony gave him a squeeze. “You should sing to him. You’ve got a good little voice on you. I’ve heard you singing”

“I don’t know. It’s so different doing it in front of people” Peter said awkwardly. 

“Even a silly Christmas song?”

“Even a silly Christmas song” Peter nodded. “I’m not singing”

“Ok, ok...”

They stayed quiet, watching as Loki finished putting the string lights and beads on the tree. He sighed and stood back, clearing his throat.

“There, done” he said. “You two can take over now”

He sat down on the sofa and picked up his mug.

“Aren’t you gonna help?” Peter said.

“You two can do the tree while I have a drink” Loki said. “I’ll help with the rest of it”

Peter shrugged and started sifting through the tree ornaments. 

“Some of these are getting old now” he said.

“Yeah, I’ve had some of them for ages” Tony said, kneeling beside him. “You know, some of these are ones I had when I was a kid.

Peter nodded. “I remember you saying. It’s a funny mix, isn’t it? I mean, you’ve got those ones, and then some of these are like, Christmas market ones, and some are from posh shops, and some are from chain shops, and some of these are homemade, right?”

“Right” Tony said, picking up a hand-painted bauble Peter had done a few years ago. “It’s good to have a mix. It all looks good when it’s up anyway”

“That isn’t exactly a great one” Peter said, wrinkling his nose at the bauble Tony was holding.

“I think it’s cute. I like this one, too” Tony held up a snowman on a ribbon that Peter had made in woodwork last year. “I like your little creations. We’ll put up that candle holder you made too”

“Do we have to?” Peter said weakly.

The candle holder was another project Peter had done in woodwork at school. It was a large snowman, hollow inside, with a carved design at the front and a hole in the back of it for a tea light. It was a well executed and effective design, especially considering it was knocked together in only a couple of hours - but as soon as it was finished, Peter suddenly realised the obvious flaw in making a candle holder out of wood. He’d been mortified when he’d realised, and he was glad it was a mini project and not a big one. Luckily he’d kept to himself throughout his work, so a quickly written paragraph about a holder for electric tea lights in a durable material as a festive item for a household with young children was all it took to cover his back. He had, however, told Tony and Loki the truth about it, and Tony had laughed quite a lot.

“It’s cute. Now come on; are you putting any of those baubles up, or am I gonna have to do it all by myself?”

Peter kept his mouth shut. Gradually the tree started to take shape. 

“You’re very quiet” Tony said eventually. “Everything ok?”

“I’m just thinking” Peter said quietly, turning a decoration over in his hand and hanging it on a branch. 

“I gathered that” Tony said. “How are you feeling?”

Peter shrugged. “I don’t know. Kinda... lonely, I guess”

“Lonely?” Tony looked at him. “Are you serious?”

Peter shrugged again, keeping his gaze averted. “...I miss May”

“Oh sweetheart” Tony said, softening. “I know, chick. Sorry, I should’ve thought”

Peter shrugged.

“Talk to me, kiddo. I still miss her too”

Peter looked over his shoulder at Loki, who was busy looking at his phone. Peter looked back at the tree, putting another decoration on. 

“What’s there to talk about?”

“Well, we could talk about what you remember about her. Or what you want to do this year? Like, a new decoration for that mini tree or something?”

Peter shrugged.

“Stop shrugging, chick. Come on; let’s talk”

“... Does this time of year make you sad too?”

“...Why?”

“Well, your parents died in December, didn’t they?”

Tony stopped for a moment. “Well, yeah, they did. I guess I still feel sad about my mum, and I still miss her when I think about it. But we didn’t really have cosy family Christmases anyway. I remember every year, obviously, but it’s different”

“Mm... What do you think they’d think of all this?”

“...I think they’d be surprised. Mother would’ve loved you. As for dad... Well, he’d probably be scared to death of your father, and I think he’d be strict with you, but have a soft spot for you too. It’s weird; I try not to think about it”

“Do you ever visit them?”

“Not really” Tony said, sifting through the few remaining tree decorations. “I didn’t really have a great relationship with either of them, you know that. I don’t really bother with it. I know a few people who still visit them, though”

“I can’t imagine not visiting May. Even though it’s been so long. I still like going every month”

“You go more than that sometimes”

“Yeah, I know. Sometimes I feel like it. It’s good to just sit there and talk”

Tony reached over and rested a hand on the side of Peter’s face, stroking his cheek gently with his thumb.

“You’ve had a tough time, haven’t you, little baby?” he sighed. “I’m proud of you, you know, and everything you’ve managed to achieve despite all of it”

Peter wasn’t exactly flattered. He pulled away and went and sat next to Loki. Loki looked up and put his phone away. He looked at the tree.

“Looks good” he nodded. “Well, shall we get everything else set up?”

“What are we gonna start with?” Tony asked, pushing his sleeves up. “Nativity?”

“I’ll do that on my own” Loki said firmly. “Peter, keep your hands off, ok?”

Peter feigned shock. “How could you think so lowly of me, father?”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. He shook his head and stood up. 

“Choose whatever you want to put up” he said. “And turn the stereo up”

-

For a while it was ok; setting everything up with the Christmas music playing and the sound of Loki and Tony talking filling the room. Peter stayed quiet, setting things up wherever he felt they looked good. He noticed Loki moving some things when he thought Peter wasn’t looking, so Peter went and turned all the characters on Loki’s nativity back to front while Loki's back was turned.

Peter started to feel a bit fed up, especially when he watched Loki and Tony laughing and joking and kissing and dancing together. He was glad when the doorbell went and he had to go and answer it.

“Flo?!”

“Hi...”

“What are you doing here? Don’t you have a coat? You must be freezing!” Peter gabbled, pulling her inside and closing the door. “You are freezing! Here”

He pulled his jumper off and shoved it over her head before she could protest. Flo knew Peter wouldn’t take no for an answer, so she put it on properly.

“I’m sorry; I would have called ahead” she said. “It’s just-”

“It’s ok; it’s good to see you! You should come upstairs. Dad made hot apple, so you can have some of that, and-”

“Peter, who is it?” Tony called, appearing at the top of the stairs. He spotted the girl, and made his way down. “Flo? I wasn’t expecting you”

“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t drop it like this” she said awkwardly. “But I didn’t know what else to do”

“Are you alright? You look a bit shaken”

Flo swallowed and nodded. “I didn’t expect to be out for very long, so I didn’t take my coat when dad dropped me off. Only I accidentally left my phone and purse in the car, and I didn’t realise until it was much too late. I just wandered around, not really knowing what to do, but then I recognised where I was, and I just thought-”

“Hey, hey, don’t look so worried! It’s ok; you’re here now, and you’re safe. I’ll call your father for you”

“Thank you. I’m sorry, I-”

“Don’t be” Tony said. He looked at Peter. “For goodness sake, kiddo; put a shirt on”

“I need to look after Flo and get her warmed up and-”

“I’ll look after her: I’m the adult” Tony said firmly. “Now do as you’re told”

-

Peter put a shirt on, and after Flo was warmed up, he settled at the breakfast bar with her.

“He’s a bit tied up” Tony said, coming back into the room. “He’ll pick you up in an hour, when he’s finished”

Flo nodded. “Thank you”

“No problem, chick. Right, I’d better go and help Loki set the rest of this stuff up. You two can do whatever. But please, at least try to stay out of mischief”

-

-

Flo lay down beside Peter on his bed.

“At least we planned it this time” she said.

“Well, you kinda didn’t have a choice the other week when you left your phone and stuff in your dads car” Peter said.

“It feels like months ago already” she said. “It’s been such a busy time. Mother’s coming home for Christmas so dad’s been busy sorting everything for the big day. Mother usually does most of the decorating, but of course she was away. It’s been a long month”

“It’s still only the 18th” Peter said. “He’s got time... Are you looking forward to your mother getting back?”

“Not really” Flo admitted. “She’ll never like me like she likes my sister”

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t like you”

“I don’t know. Maybe she does. Maybe she doesn’t. I don’t really know. I always feel like I don’t really know her. I don’t really see her all that much. I don’t really mind, but it makes it awkward when we have to spend time together”

Peter turned onto his side, looking at her. “When did you last have a Christmas with her?”

“Well, she’s there every year, but it always feels weird seeing her, since she’s away so much” Flo said. 

“Oh right” Peter said, trying to understand. “What about Christmas Eve? Are you doing anything?”

“Oh. Well, I’m not sure yet. We don’t usually do much. Mother and my sister go out in the evening, and me and dad stay home and watch Christmas DVDs. Why?”

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to come over. We usually go to this carol thing, but daddy’s working till late, so I don’t know if dad’s still gonna go”

“Oh, well I’d have to check with my parents and see what they say” Flo said. “A carol service sounds nice. But even if we didn’t go, I love your house at Christmas - it’s so cute and festive!”

“It is pretty cool at Christmas” Peter agreed. “We’ve got some cool stuff, although it does seem a bit overboard having Christmas blankets and Christmas bedding and Christmas throw pillows and Christmas crockery and stuff”

“Well, my family have Christmas day tableware too”

“Yeah, but we have like, Christmas season crockery, and Christmas day crockery. It’s a bit extra. Me and May never bothered”

Flo looked at him, noting the change in his voice at the end of his sentence. 

“You had Christmas decorations though, didn’t you?”

“Yeah, but just the basic stuff. We had a few Christmas mugs, but they kinda got used all year round...”

Flo took Peter’s hand. “Are you ok?”

“I think so. I just still feel a bit funny thinking about her sometimes. Especially at this time of year”

“She passed away around this time of year, didn’t she?” Flo said gently.

“January. 13 days after Christmas. That’s not very long, really. We had such hope and plans for that year... Can I tell you a secret?”

Flo nodded and squeezed his hand.

“I’m mostly happy with all this, yknow, being a Stark, and your friend, and everything. But I’d trade in all of it in a heartbeat to get May back” he said. “I know it’s kinda bad to say, and I know it’s weird, since she died quite a while ago now, but still...”

“You can’t help how you feel” Flo said. “I know you were really close. You can still remember her, so that’s a good thing. And your parents do too, right? And you remember her in other ways, like that angel on the mantelpiece. And that robin there”

She nodded in the direction of the wooden robin on the edge of the headboard. Peter nodded slightly.

“Yeah, that’s true... I made another decoration for the tree on her grave. It was a peacock made out of scrap metal. Sounds rubbish, I know, but it turned out pretty well, which is god, because it took forever! She liked peacocks. I just suddenly remembered this painting she had in her room, and I’d been struggling to think of what to make, so I made that”

“That sounds cute” Flo said. “...Peter?”

“Mm?”

“Tell me about her”

Peter paused for a moment, still feeling hot and shaky and a little nervous. And then he smiled. 

“Ok”

-

-

Peter couldn’t help feeling a bit put out.

“I’m sorry” Flo said. “But my mother isn’t the kind of person you argue with”

“Evidently not” Peter grumbled, brows furrowed.

“Don’t look so cross! I’m upset too, but there’s nothing I can do about it. There’s still other things we can do together, other than Christmas Eve”

“I suppose so” Peter sighed. “Well, in that case, maybe we should do our Christmas presents tomorrow”

“Sounds good” Flo nodded. “Shall we go out? There’s that funny restaurant in town, the one we had those nice burgers at?”

“Uuuuhhh, maybe” Peter said, forgetting his disappointment and getting his phone out to check the restaurants menu.

They read through the menu together carefully, and then Peter sighed and put his phone away.

“Their Christmas menu doesn’t really do it for me” he said.

“No, me neither” Flo said. “Shall we just do it here then?”

“Sure”

“We could go out for hot chocolate first” Flo suggested. “That gelato place by the emporium had a board outside advertising its Christmas hot chocolates”

“Oh, right” Peter said, brightening. “That sounds good! Ok, hot chocolate, and then back here for presents. Ok?”

“It’s a date!”

-

Spending time with Flo was always such a tonic. For a while, he felt like everything was normal. But all too soon they were saying goodbye, and Peter had to face his parents once again. Somehow, he didn’t feel very connected to them. Despite everything.

“What’s with the face?” Tony said, giving him a little tap on the cheek. “It’s Christmas!”

“It’s the 23rd” Peter said, keeping his eyes glued to his phone.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve” Tony said. “Stop being so miserable!”

“Leave me alone then!”

“Peter, don’t talk to your father like that” Loki said. 

Peter looked up from his phone and glared at him. 

“Enough of the attitude, young man”

“Yeah, enough of the attitude, Peter” Tony said. “You won’t get any Christmas presents if you carry on like this”

“I don’t care” Peter grumbled.

Tony sighed. He made eye contact with Loki and they shook their heads at each other.

“Unbelievable. What’s gotten into you? You usually enjoy Christmas”

“So?” 

“So stop being so rude and cheeky!”

“I’m not being rude and cheeky! Leave me alone!”

“Peter!” Loki snapped. “Stop it! Now go to your room”

“Why should I?!”

“Because I told you to! Now do as you’re told!”

“FINE!” 

Peter stormed off and slammed the living room door behind him. He ignored his parents shouts and continued to his room. He grabbed his Spiderman suit. He was grounded now, technically, but he didn’t care. He didn’t suppose his parents would check on him anyway.

-

-

Peter didn’t feel much better on Christmas Eve. His parents didn’t know he’d gone out the previous night - or if they did, they hadn’t mentioned it. Peter slept most of the morning, and Loki had already gone to work by the time he got up. He wandered about for a little while, looking at all of the lights and decorations all over the house. He didn’t feel in the least bit Christmassy. Even looking at the presents under the tree didn’t make him feel festive. 

“You’d better not be poking around those presents”

Peter spun round. “Oh, it’s just you” 

“Charming. What are you up to, sweetheart?”

Peter looked at him sceptically. 

“What’s with the face?” 

Peter didn’t reply. Tony sighed and put an arm round his shoulders.

“You’ve been acting funny for a while now. What’s up? Anything you want to talk about?”

Peter shook his head.

“Alright, suit yourself. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you about tonight” Tony said, guiding Peter over to the sofa so they could sit down. “I’m still gonna go to that carol service, even though your father’s gonna miss it. Are you gonna come with me?”

Peter shrugged. Tony sighed.

“A real answer would be nice. If you’re coming, you’ll need to be ready by about quarter past five” he said. “But if you wanna stay here and watch TV or something, that’s fine too. Daddy should be home around half six anyway, so you wouldn’t be alone for that long”

“I’ll think about it”

“Better decide soon, kiddo”

“Is Pepper coming round tomorrow?”

“No, she’s seeing family” Tony said. “She might come over on Boxing Day though. Why?”

Peter shrugged.

“What about uncle Thor?”

“Uhh, maybe Boxing Day, if he’s about. I can call him and ask, if you like?”

Peter shrugged.

“Don’t your shoulders hurt? You’re always shrugging. It’s not a very dignified look”

“So? What do you care? It’s not like I’m at school”

“Funny how that school still hasn’t managed to fix some of your little faults after all this time” Tony said. “You’re too stubborn; that’s your problem. Just like your parents”

“Oh come on, dad; I’m never gonna be like all those kids at school. Why should I be?”

“Well, you do go for a school for young ladies and gentlemen”

“Yeah, and whose fault is that?” Peter shook his head slightly. “They’re not all perfect, yknow. I mean, you’ve met Macy. And Malaki”

“Mm, that’s true. Macy can at least keep up appearances when the situation calls for it” he said. “That Malaki is a bad influence on you. He’ll end up getting expelled one day; you mark my words”

“You’re so dramatic”

“I’m not wrong though”

Peter scowled at him. Tony laughed slightly and ruffled the boys hair.

“The wind’ll change and your face’ll get stuck like that if you’re not careful”

“You’re not funny”

“Wanna bet?” Tony pulled him close, kissing him hard on the cheek. “My little boy~. You’re gonna end up with a stocking full of coal, you know”

“What, for getting annoyed?”

“No; for being rude and cheeky, you little tyke” he gave him a squeeze. “You ought to get into the Christmas spirit, chick: it is Christmas tomorrow, after all”

“I know that”

“Well, aren’t you excited?”

Peter shrugged. 

“Stop shrugging! Use your words”

Peter didn’t.

“Alright” Tony sighed. “Do you want a drink or something?”

Peter shook his head.

“Ok, so do you wanna watch a film?”

Peter shrugged. Tony growled and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Stop shrugging! You’re doing my head in!”

“Good!”

They looked at each other in silence for a moment or two, and then Tony sighed, let go of him, and picked up the TV remote.

“Let’s watch a film”

-

After a quiet afternoon watching Christmas films, Peter felt a little put out when Tony started getting ready for the carol service.

“You can still come with me, you know” Tony said, pulling his coat on.

“No thanks...”

“Well, you be good then. Watch some telly or another DVD or something. Daddy’ll be back before you know it”

-

Peter curled up on the sofa watching the Christmas episodes of The Simpsons he had on the planner. He was feeling better, and almost like he was getting into the Christmas spirit. It was nice to be alone in the house for once: it didn’t really happen all that often, especially not anymore. 

It didn’t last long. Loki arrived home about 90 minutes after Tony had left. Peter paused the telly, and Loki soon came into the living room. 

“Good evening”

“Hi...”

Loki looked at the telly. “Am I interrupting?”

“No...”

“Well, I’m going to have a shower and get changed, and then I’ll join you. I take it Tony went to the service?”

Peter nodded.

“I thought as much. Has he been cooking today?”

Peter nodded again. “And baking”

“I thought I could smell home cooking. Anyway, I’m going to go and sort myself out. I won’t be long”

Peter waited until he was out of the room before pressing play again. He snuggled down and settled back into his current episode of The Simpsons.

-

Tony arrived home much too soon, Peter thought. It had been nice watching telly quietly, with Loki crafting away on the armchair. Still, Loki was happy to see him. As always.

Peter wasn’t happy about having to leave the sofa to go and have soup and scones in the kitchen. Luckily his parents were too deep in conversation to care that he was so quiet, or notice how little he was eating. They did, however, notice when he took his phone out.

“Not at the table, Peter” Tony said firmly. “You know the rules”

Peter sighed and put his phone away. Tony nodded slightly.

“Good boy. Eat up now” 

“I’m not very hungry”

“You’ve only had half a scone and two spoonfuls of soup” 

“Well-”

“You need to eat, sweetheart” Loki said. “At least try. For me”

"But-”

“But nothing” Tony interrupted. “Do as you’re told. It’s not too late for Father Christmas to move you onto the naughty list”

“You say that every year” Peter scowled. 

“Eat” Tony said. He looked back at Loki. “So anyway, I rang the office, and asked to speak to the stupid bugger myself. He beat about the bush, of course, but we got there in the end, and I said-”

-

As per the tradition, they put The Snowman on after they’d eaten and tidied up. Loki sat on the sofa and pulled Peter onto his lap, and Tony sat beside them with his arm round Loki’s shoulders. Peter felt a little funny. He felt comfortable against Loki’s chest, but he didn’t feel like he should really be there. He had a feeling Tony still wasn’t very happy with him. He hadn’t really been the same with him for a while now. Loki was being ok though. He had his arms round him, cuddling him the way he always did. 

Peter tried to focus on the film, but his thoughts drifted and he found himself feeling rather tired. He dropped off for a little while but woke up when Tony got up to turn the DVD off.

“Are you ok there, sweetie?” Loki asked gently. “I think you fell asleep for a moment there”

“Mm... I’m kinda tired” 

“You look it. Maybe it’s time you called it a night”

“It’s only half eight, Loki” Tony said, standing up. “He’ll never sleep through the night if you send him now”

“I’m not a baby, dad” Peter said. 

Tony raised an eyebrow. “Wanna bet?”

Peter scowled, and Loki laughed.

“Leave the poor baby alone” he said. “Now darling, why don’t we all have a drink and listen to Smooth radio for a bit?”

“You sound so old sometimes, Lolly, my dear” Tony said, but he turned on the radio nevertheless. “Peter, go and stick the kettle on”

“No, no, don’t move, chick” Loki said, keeping hold of him. “You can make the drinks, Tony, my darling”

“Alright, alright. Well, since it’s Christmas. What are we all having?”

“I’ll have a Lady Grey” Loki said. “Milk and sugar, of course”

“Alright” Tony nodded. “...Kid?”

“Umm...”

“Warm milk?”

“No, uh-”

“Make a decision, Peter!”

“Tony! Don’t shout at him!”

“I wasn’t shouting!”

“I won’t have anything then” Peter scowled.

“Stop it, both of you” Loki snapped. “Tony, you know what he likes. Use your initiative”

Tony sighed and kissed Loki on the cheek. “Won’t be long”

Peter waited till Tony was out of the room before speaking.

“He hates me”

“What?! No he doesn’t! Don’t be silly”

“I’m not being silly! He’s been off with me for ages now” Peter said, tears welling in his eyes. 

“He’s just been busy and a bit stressed. You know it’s been a tough year for him. For all of us, in fact” Loki said. “You know he loves you more than anything in the world”

Peter went quiet, listening to the radio.

“Christmas tomorrow” Loki said, changing the subject. 

Peter nodded. “It’s starting to feel like it now”

“That’s good” Loki said. “It should be nice, a relaxed day with my little family and plenty of good food and drink”

“No Baileys hot chocolates though”

“No, well, that’s not really important” Loki said awkwardly, not really wanting another one of those conversations. “I take it you’ll still want to go to the cemetery tomorrow?”

Peter nodded. “I saw those flowers you got. They’re pretty fancy”

“Well, she deserves nothing less” Loki said. He paused, and sighed. “I do miss our May, you know”

“I know... I miss her too. I thought I would’ve stopped feeling so strongly about it by now, but... Well, it still hurts”

“To be honest, sweetheart, I rather think it’s going to hurt forever. Not as much as at the start, of course, but it will still hurt. We can’t help how we feel. It’s good to remember her, though. She always did love this time of year”

“I liked spending Christmas here back then, when it was four of us” Peter said. “She was a big personality, wasn’t she?”

“I suppose she was, yes. Why do you say that?”

“Well, when she was here, and there were four, well, four seemed so much more than three, y’know?”

“I know” Loki nodded understandingly. “I think we were all big personalities, in our own way”

Peter looked over at the crystal angel on the mantelpiece. He looked at the pictures on the walls: some of them festive, some of them ones that were there all year round - including several from back when Peter still had three parental figures in his life.

“Don’t you think it’s funny how you can forget about these pictures?”

“What do you mean, sweetheart?”

“Well, I see them everyday. Multiple times a day, I guess, but I don’t really register them”

“I see. Well, I suppose when you’re getting on with your everyday life, everything just blends into the background. There’s many things I often forget about in the same way”

Just then, Tony came back into the room. He handed a mug each to Loki and Peter, and then sat back on the sofa with them.

“Christmas seems to have snuck up so fast this year, don’t you think?” he said, sipping his decaf. “I swear it was still November five minutes ago”

“It’s funny how things sneak up on you” Loki nodded. “It’s been a busy month, I suppose. Still, it’ll be nice to relax for a while”

“When are you back at work?”

“Not till the New Year. Not until Peter’s back at school, I don’t think”

“I go back on the seventh” Peter said. 

“Yes. I’ll have to check my diary, make sure, but not just now” Loki said. “I’d like to focus on the family for a while. It’s high time we spent some more quality time together, don’t you agree?”

“A good New Years Resolution, I think” Tony nodded. “Maybe next year we should finally go abroad for Christmas. Christmas markets, at least”

“Maybe” Loki said. “I think we should wait and discuss that nearer the time”

They went quiet for a while, listening to the Christmas music playing on the radio.

“Who’s cooking tomorrow?” Peter asked.

“Me” Tony said. “I’ve got everything planned already. I even prepped some stuff while you were sulking this afternoon”

“I wasn’t sulking!” Peter said indignantly.

“Alright, no need to shout” Tony shook his head. “Anyway, you’d better be finishing your drink and laying your stocking out and getting settled for the night, don’t you think?”

“Wait, just five minutes ago you were saying I couldn’t go to bed just yet!”

“Yeah, but by the time you’ve finished your drink and done everything else, it’ll be near enough bedtime - and you always have an early night on Christmas Eve anyway” Tony said. “I don’t want you having too much of a lie-in tomorrow morning”

“Mm, whatever” Peter sighed. “Daddy, am I doing the stocking in your room again tomorrow?”

“Of course” Loki said. “You can’t break the tradition now”

“And do I still have to get dressed and have breakfast before we do the big presents?”

“Yep” Tony said. 

“Can I open a present tonight?”

“Nope! You can wait till tomorrow like everyone else”

“Aww, but I’ll give both of you one of your presents tonight too?”

“No way, chick” Tony smiled. “Presents are for Christmas Day”

Peter sighed as though he were annoyed, but he didn’t really mind. He was starting to feel better. Maybe it was a good job it was Christmas tomorrow after all.

-

Peter finished his drink, and Tony sent him off to get ready for bed. Peter went off to his room and did his teeth and got changed into an old set of joggers and a t-shirt. He picked up his lovely homemade stocking and lay it carefully at the end of his bed. He looked round the bedroom. It wasn’t very tidy. Somehow he hadn’t managed to find the time to do a proper tidy up, or even find places for his presents from his friends to go. He didn’t have a jug at the moment either, as he’d put it in the dishwasher that morning and hadn’t grabbed a clean one.

Luckily Loki was just as prepared as ever, and he came into the room armed with a jug of water and a glass, which he set on Peter’s bedside table. 

“There. Are you ready for bed?”

Peter nodded.

“Good. How are you feeling?”

“I’m not sure. Tired, I guess”

“Excited?”

“Maybe a bit” Peter said, looking at his stocking. 

Loki looked at it too. “Hopefully you’ll be brought something more than coal”

“I won’t if dad’s got anything to do with it”

“You seemed to be getting on a little better this evening, despite what you said earlier” Loki said. “Tomorrow will be a good day; you know that”

Peter nodded slightly. He rearranged his pillows and cuddly toys, and climbed into bed. Loki carefully lay the covers over him and turned the night light on.

"You look tired”

“He is tired” Tony said, appearing in the doorway. “He fell asleep watching The Snowman, didn’t he?”

“Well, yes” Loki said. “Still...”

“I’m fine” Peter said, turning onto his side. “The early night sounds ok though. Then when I wake up, it’ll probably be Christmas”

“Probably?” Tony said, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, there’s always a chance I’ll fall asleep and then wake up again before midnight”

“Mm, I suppose. Well, you’d better get some rest then, kiddo. You can chill as much as you like tomorrow, but I’d still like to start the day at a decent time”

“Ok, ok. If I’m awake around eight, I’ll get up around eight”

“Good boy” Tony smiled. “Love you, sweetheart”

Peter paused for a moment. “Love you too”

“I’ll leave you too it. Night kiddo”

“Night dad”

Loki watched Tony go, and turned back to Peter.

“What are you thinking?”

“...Next year will be better, won’t it?”

Loki stroked Peter’s hair gently, not quite looking him in the eye.

“I hope so”

“Hope...”

Loki looked at him properly. “I hope so. I’m sure it will be”

“Mm... Well, let’s get Christmas done first, right?”

Loki laughed slightly. “Yes, let’s have a nice Christmas. Now you settle down and go to sleep. Or Father Christmas will never come”

“You know, I think you might have been made to work with kids, even though you weren’t born on Earth or anything” Peter said, snuggling down.

“I’ll take that as a compliment” Loki chuckled.

“Do you find it hard being at work?”

“It’s a challenge” Loki said. “But it’s a lot easier now than it was when I first went back. Come along now; settle down. It’s bedtime”

“Ok. Sorry”

“Don’t be” Loki kissed him on the cheek. “We’ll have a good day tomorrow, chick”

“Mm, we’ll see”

“You’ll feel better in the morning. A good nights sleep will do you the world of good, darling”

“Ok... I trust you” he said. “Love you”

“I love you too, sweetheart” Loki said. “See you Christmas morning”

Peter smiled. “See you Christmas morning”

*

*

*

[witchyvampyre]

Oh, and Hestia and 11 for Harry Potter asks!

11: who's your favorite non-human character?

To be honest, my favorite non-human character is either Dobby or Aragog.

Hestia: describe your ideal house

I actually had a friend ask me this the other day and it's quite long. But the short of it is a 2 story, stone cottage that looks like a witch hovel.

Scene

You turn off the street through a rod iron, ivy covered gate, Down a treelined rough brick drive, the house is hidden from the road by trees and the gate that is half cobblestone half rod iron with ivy spilling over the top in spots. The house is seemingly placed on a pedistul with rock stairs built into the hill from the drive that leads to a rock path through the small lawn that is littered with purple thyme and wildflowers that grow about ankle height.

Surrounding the house is a small cluttered garden of herbs and flowers purposefully creating a wild forest of witchy and homeopathic ingredients that smell divine. There is a well positioned porch that wraps around the opposite side of the house with more potted plants littering around a few chairs and an end table which holds a vintage bed warmer being used as an ashtray. The front door is purple and rounded at the top. With 2 mini windows in it and iron support bars acrost the wooden panelling.

Inside the front door there is a little stone tile entryway with shoes littering the wall to the right behind the door with hooks for coats . To the left there is a small table against the parallel wall with mail and a bowl for keys and an umbrella stand with hats and scarves and leashes for the animals. Passed the entryway the floor changes to older wood flooring, at the end of the wall to the right opens to the dining room with a rough cut, viking style, repurposed wood table with 8 chairs atop an area rug. The table has a hidden leaf to accommodate the 4 chairs stored at various places against the walls of the room. There is a beautiful Victorian style China cabinet filled with a variety of different china patterns on the far wall. There is a buffet table on the adjacent wall (across from the large window that faces the lawn) with a lovely doily runner and dried flowers displayed with tall candlesticks on either side and a crystal candy dish on one side filled with butterscotch and peppermint candies. There is a sliding pocket door beside the buffet table that leads to the kitchen.

The kitchen is a moderate size with vintage tins for each bulk ingredient, drying herbs and flowers hanging all around. There is more ivy growing around the cabinets, which have fogged glass doors, and the bottom cabinets have curtains. There is a garden sink with a window looking out to the wrap around porch and an island in the middle with a grate hanging above it which stores baking pans and hangs pots/pans and various other things. There is a door way to the left of the door you just came through that leads back to the hallway and a walk-in pantry to the right with a hidden root veggie and wine storage beneath a trap door in the floorboard. On the opposite wall of the pocket door you just came through between the oven and the refrigerator, there is a farm door that leads out to the back part of the porch with a secondary screen door.

Going through the door to the left you're back in the entryway/hallway where you can see into the open livingroom passed the bottom of the stairs. Beneath the stairs there is the half bath, a simple toilet and sink set up. The livingroom has a small library in the front of the house surrounding a bay window that doubles as a comfy reading nook crapped in vintage lace curtains. (There is no TV!) There is a wood burning fireplace in the center of the far wall an alter is set up on the mantle with a swing arm that holds my cauldron over the fire fronted by a couple of wingback chairs. To the right further in the house there is a Victorian style couch with a small but long coffee table (with floor pillows stored underneath) facing a TV mounted to the wall surrounded by mounted gaming systems and music system complete with record player. In the corner there is a closet with records, movies, internet router, board games, blankets, and other various things.

Up the wooden stairs the floor the center of the layout is hall with 5 doors. The hallway in the upper floor curls to the left. And there are 2 doors on the left, one ahead, and 2 on the right wall and on at the end of the hall to the left. The closest door is at the top of the stairs to the right. Which leads to an office/library/craft room with shelf's lining the walls except the wall with the window which has a work desk that houses my computer, various printers (3d philament/resin, ink, and graphite), and the scanner. There is a closet to the far right which houses various tools, fabric, etc. In the middle of the room is another work table that looks more like an oversized cutting mat with a few chairs and stools surrounding it. Looks like we've had more than a few paint and marker fights over it. There is a rocking chair in the corner with a small foot stool that has a lovely crochet throw over it for reading when I don't want to go downstairs.

Back in the hall the next door is a full bathroom which has a lovely larger than standard tub in it with a small cabinet over the toilet and a farmhouse washing basin style sink. It is more of a vintage meets farmhouse style guest bathroom. With tile flooring and a small window with a stained glass. There are a few hooks for towels behind the door and on the wall beside the tub for easy access. A few small fluffy rugs to keep people from leaving puddles on the floor. The curtain for the tub is wrap around with some sort of quilted pattern on it. It's not a huge room but is big enough to bathe the baby while your teenager tries to fix their eyeliner in the mirror. Lol

(All of the floors are wood with at least one area rug in it to accent the color or mood of the room)

The next door you come too is a guest bedroom. It is about the size of the office with a queen sized bed pushed almost against the far right corner. There is a small end table with a lamp allowing for a bit of walking room between the bed and the far wall (opposite the door). There is a small chest of drawers across from the bed to the right with a vanity mirror and a vintage washbasin on top complete with pitcher and handtowel. Beside it is a small door to a closet with extra linens and pillows. It's relatively empty other than a few extra things like winter coats and a few hidden Christmas gifts for next year and a forgotten golf bag that dad left last time he was there to visit. Beside the door to the left there is a taller chest of drawers with a few pictures of family get togethers and fun memories on the walls. There are two windows one that overlooks the backyard and one that is on the wall opposite the door. It's simple cute and cozy.

The next door is the kids bedroom. (If I have three the guest bed will be the oldest siblings room before they move out and the younger two will more than likely be twins so they'll share or will segregate boy/girl etc.) The kids room is bigger than the guest room. With a bed coming out of the middle of the wall to the left. To the right there is a large mirror-double-doored wardrobe which houses clothes, shoes, uniforms, hats, winter wear etc. In the Tob there is a shelf for a few extra linens for sleep overs or whathaveyou. There is again 2 windows. There is a blown glass style window above the headboard of the bed which has a drapey sheer curtain that falls behind the bed, and there is a more stained glass window to the wall opposite the door that is behind a sort of work desk littered with books and papers and a laotop. Their school bag hangs by one shoulder strap off the chair. There is a more modern floor lamp beside it with a rubbish bin beneath it overflowing with wadded paper. There is a bookshelf to the right of the desk between the wardrobe and the wall full of novels and a radio/Bluetooth speaker. It also stores games and other things my kid has collected (stolen from me) over the years. On the wall to the left of the door is a huge lovesac covered in laundry next to the laundry basket in the corner. There are a vanity to the right of the bed and a small end table to the left (between the bed and the wall). both are littered with books, jewelry, makeup, niknacks,chargers, and a lamp. I don't want to know what's under the bed, but there is a small chaise at the foot of the bed. There is enough floor space to have a blanket fort or a small sumber party of about 6 kids.

The last room is the master suite. You walk in the door, and there is an attached bathroom to the left. Through a door at the far corner of the room. The queen sized bed is rod iron, with a lovely victorian Italian feel to it. It is against the far wall coming out from the middle with an end table on either side (his and her style). At the foot of the bed there is a chaise with shoes underneath. To the right of the door there is a window that overlooks the front of the house, it looks to have a bit of a window seat for reading. There is a glider chair int he corner beside the window. With a foot stool infront of it. To the left between the glider and the bedside table seems to be a combination of a quilt rack and a Butler station with a hanging suit and a little surface with my husband's daily accessories on it (wallet, belt, cologne, rings, knives, etc). To the left of the entry door is a bit more witchy/girly. There is a small writing desk that looks to double as a vanity with a collection of vintage and antique niknacks with drawers and built-in storage for my jewelry, knives, stamps, stationary, passports, etc. Between the vanity and the bathroom door looks to be a 5 panel changing screen where I have a few outfits hanging on a vintage clothes rack behind it. my silky house coat and a towel seem to have taken residence draping over one of the screen panels. Through the bathroom door there is a larger garden claw-foot tub with a Waterfall showerhead that takes up the majority of the back wall. There is stone tile flooring that also lines the walls about a 3rd of the way from the floor. The sink is to the left of the door and is a bit modern and standard with cabinetry beneath in storing towels (extras included) as well as toiletries and toilet paper. There is a cabinet over the toilet to the right that stores most of my body and hair products including my husband's few various products for hair care and maintenance. There is a small stainglass window that lets in natural light between the tub and the toilet where the towel rack is mounted just below it. And there are a few hooks behind the door as well as right next to the tub(to the left) for towels and robes for dressing.

When you go back downstairs passed the half bath between the stairs an dthe livingroom there is a sort of mudroom/laundry room. That leads to the back porch (is about 8 feed from the kitchen door which is to the right) to the left there is a set of stairs that lead you to the little bit of a backyard that has a trampoline and an in-ground pool. There may be a 2 door garage to the left where the workshop is for building and restoring/fixing things along with a section for gardening stuff. I really hate grads do there will be little pads of clover and creeping thyme as well as little gardens lining the gate and overgrown ivy with a few trees--one has a tree swing. Maybe the kid and my spouse plan on building a treehouse soon. I probably have a little garden labarenth hidden in the corner somewhere to do ritual outside. Or offering or whatever.

Yea... That's my house.

[decantae]

A snippet from For Queen and Country that’s about a year old. The premise of this scene is Louise (radio personality and fledgling vampire) handling the aftermath of an on-air hijacking used to incite violence against the Other.

If you would like to be tagged in FQAC writing posts, please let me know - I lost my tag lists!

Word Count: 1,478

"That was the single scariest thing I have ever had to deal with on air," Louise said as soon as she tagged in her replacement. Even getting to her feet was a struggle with legs like jelly. Joe pressed a mug of hot coffee into her hands, and guided her through to the break room. "And that includes that one caller who phoned-in when he thought he'd committed a hit-and-run. Though it's a close thing."

Joe let her ramble until they were in the kitchenette. Several passing workers (including a few rubberneckers from next door's underground anarchist magazine) made reassuring comments on their way by, and Louise maintained a shaky public smile through it all, but once they were alone, she leaned heavily against the sink, mindless of spilled water soaking into the back of her faux fur coat. "I hope it's not a slow news day on the BBC. Or ITV. Or Sky News. That message does not deserve any more air-time than it's already gotten. Fuel to the fire. Did you get it recorded?"

Joe shot her a funny look, then head tilted to the side quizzically. It drove her to wonder if there was something on her face, and she bent down to check in the nearest reflective surface, the microwave door. It may have just been the dim lighting but she seemed to have adopted a pallor that even her make-up couldn't hide. Beneath red lips and blush she was chalky-white, reading to her eyes as an embalmed corpse ready for the open casket funeral. 

"Yeah, we got it. I'd advise you to slow down and breathe just a sec,” he continued, “but all the horror flicks I've ever seen suggest vampires don't need oxygen. Can't say I've ever seen one of your sort go into shock."

"It would be just my luck to be the first to do so," Louise said faintly. As much as she had grown used to life as a creature of the night, it felt no less taboo to be discussing such matters with a human –– even one in the pocket of the Collective, as Joe was. He had previously made it clear that he would never bring it up at work unless it was critical.

Silence reigned. She gulped down her coffee, which satiated a thirst, but not the thirst; the one that made the back of her throat itch, as if there were slivers of microscopic glass tuck in all the little fleshy crevices down her oesophagus. Her mind couldn't stop refocusing on the sensation, like worrying at a hangnail, or picking at a scab.

Her gaze slid to the fridge. "Joe," she began lightly, breaching a sensitive topic. "Do you mind if I—–?" "Oh, God no. Go ahead. You look like you need it, and, um, I'm anemic, so... Whatever you need to do." Her manager waved a hand and took up a position in front of the closed door, a guard against any curious colleagues. In the meantime, Louise descended upon the paper bag in the fridge like a bat out of hell, pausing only to rummage around in one of the cabinets for a reusable metal straw.

Drinking from the packaged blood inside was sweet, sweet relief after a long day, even if it was cold. (Still, after the DIY AB+ ice-lollies she'd attempted to make from last summer, anything was an improvement.) 

While Joe was purposefully fiddling with his phone as she sucked the bag dry, careful not to smear her lipstick, she allowed herself to muse what it would be like to drink hot, living blood. Apparently, according to some of her brothers and sisters in the Collective, it was easy to acquire a taste for the 'real thing'. When the man coughed uncomfortably, she averted her gaze.

Already, her throat was soothed and her frayed nerves were bolstered. If there were to be interviews for the telly, she thought she might be able to stand and do one of them now – or at least sit for it. "Right," Joe said, when her straw could suck up no more. As Louise moved on to slicing open the bag with one fang to get at the trapped liquid, he unsuccessfully masked a wince. It was just a bag. "This is a big old mess, and we're going to have to work overtime on working out a plan of action with the Collective. Take the night off, Lou." 

"What?" She looked up, and the blood in the plastic ran over and dripped down the corner of her lips. "No way. I haven't missed a day in four years and six months and I'm certainly not going to start now. That would be absurd." Something in Joe's eyes told her that it was a position he wouldn't budge from. "What is it?" "You know what? Make it a long weekend." 

"Did I do something wrong?" Louise asked, stunned. "I know I was a bit shaken by the whole thing, but I'm sure I'll be as right as rain tomorrow. Besides, I'd like to see Chris Moyles or, god forbid, Chris Evans do any better in that situation." Perhaps if she kept lying, one of them would scan as the truth. "Really, I'm good."

"Yeah, um, not to make this workplace discrimination or anything, but you're literally dripping blood on the tiles." Louise looked at the plastic bag scrunched in her hand, the trails of blood running down her arm, and then the circular splashes on the ground before tossing it into the rubbish bin. Joe continued with palpable uncertainty, gesturing to her chin and cheek, "And you've got a little bit of it on your face––here. And there."

She ran her thumb along the worst of it and licked it off. "Wow, I'm so sorry, Joe. I'll clean this up right away. This has never happened before..." As she reached for the paper towels, he stopped her. Finally, she recognised the twin emotions in his face that she had confused before: concern and apprehension. They did not seem so unwarranted now. 

"Don't worry about this, pet. It's only blood –– I'll handle it. Won't even write it up as a biohazard." Joe patted her on the shoulder as he moved to clean up, passing her a sheet of kitchen roll for her face. Though a slip-up of such a magnitude was unheard of for her, she knew to dab off blood like excess foundation rather than smear it, at the very least. It was times like these that Louise was reminded that Joe had been in the employ of the vampires for longer than she had been one. He must be used to spillages. "Do me a favour and head home."

Her protest was fainter this time; she could barely hear her own voice. "You said we're going to have to sort things out with the Collective..."

"And, tell you what, if you feel like calling up Queen or Kaminski or one of the others later on, you can do that. As long as you take a nap first." He shot her an easy grin. "Or have a stiff drink. When was the last time you had a Friday and a Saturday off?"

Louise hesitated, though she knew the answer. "Four years and six months..." "Exactly. Now go on, get. And if I see you in here tomorrow, I'm adding another day."

Louise nodded, and with one last check in the microwave door to ensure the blood looked enough like a student project rather than a murder victim, she left the kitchen area and On the Edge studio with great haste, only diverging from her path to pick up her Prada bag from the cloakroom. What could only be disassociation marked her exit: one moment her heels were clicking on the linoleum of the empty corridors and the next she was tripping over her own two feet on the tarmac of the parking lot.

It was only once she was in her car, a yellow Mini, that she closed her eyes against the sunlight. Joe asked a workaholic to stop working, and this was the effect. What else could she possibly do with her time? Message the bosses, that's it. Sliding her phone out from her bra, she scrolled through her contacts to ascertain who would be the best one to ask for guidance–– ––until, for once, she didn't feel like sorting it out immediately.

The best place to find a vampire was to show up at one of the clubs. Drinks were good, but it wasn't even midday yet. She could survive until they opened with a bath (plus bubbles) and some soothing music, but she hadn't been out on the town alone since her 21st, and given how bloody that night ended, she was not excited to relive the trauma.

Unless. 

[princessbethacup]

Another horrible vent. Do not read this because I am just saying these things because I literally have noone to talk to about this.

He came upstairs this morning and was like "oh damn I didn't lose any weight again." He seemed exasperated and even a little angry. I cleaned up our room about a week ago, the only thing I didn't do was hoover his side of the bed. I tidied up again and his side of the bed is just mini pudding pots and pot noodle pots. I know they're recent because there's also a bunch of them on the top of the bin. I'm only pissed because he literally dumped them on the floor. This says many things. He can't tell when the someone has been tidying up. He thinks I'm stupid enough to not notice. He doesn't respect me enough to think it's his job to take his rubbish to the bin.

Also, he's quit alcohol, apparently. I have my own personal problem with this. I'm really glad he's decided to give it up but the reason why has pissed me off. So, what do I find when I take the recycling? Why, evidence of copious amounts of drunk HPA of course!!!

So, he always complains that I'm lazy. I say nothing. He must think that bedding in our house stays fresh for a hecking long time because he only changed it once since we moved in. Bathrooms definitely clean themselves because he's never done it himself and somehow it's clean almost constantly. We must have really clean shoes because that since that one time he hoovered nearly a year ago he hasn't needed to do it again! Our washing machine must be the biggest washing machine in the hecking world because he's only used it twice this year and hasn't run out of clean effing clothes yet. He takes the lid off the bin when it gets full and is like ... Ooft I worked really hard today. I should take a break. Change the fricken bin!!!

When I say I never say anything, I've already said plenty. I sat down with him and resorted to "it'll surprise you how much you can do in ten minites" like he's a child. I lost my shit last year. Pretty sure I already talked about it here. I've just kinda given up.

[mainly-kpop]

The sound of rain

A typical Thursday evening. Nothing exciting and nothing interesting planned for the night ahead, she stepped out the car locking it quickly behind her and running up to the front door. Fumbling with her keys for a second before finally pushing it in and opening the door as fast as she could. She shook a little shrugging the cold off silently cursing herself for not thinking about bringing a jumper to work today. Placing her bag down at the front door and kicking the old worn shoes off she trudged her way through the empty house.

It's not like it was fully empty, she had a lot of stuff, it was just lonely. It felt colder when it was only her body heat to warm the bed at night, the small house felt bigger when it was just her footsteps echoing through the rooms. She let out a loaded sigh raising her eyebrows looking at the mess she had left behind last night. It was just a movie night alone but she didn't feel like cleaning after and just went to bed deciding a full night's rest was more important. Realistically she didn't fall asleep until about 3am anyways.

Walking straight past the mess she head straight to the bathroom to wash off the day, the hot water hits her skin as she let out a sharp hiss feeling pain for a second before relaxing into it.

After some life debating and a mini concert she leaves the warmth of the shower wrapping her body in a towel and stepping into the bedroom. The rain was pouring down by now and she was thanking her lucky stars for letting her finish slightly early today and avoid this storm. The rest of the night should be spent tidying she knows that it's a mess, It's disgusting truthfully. But she can't bring herself to touch any of it. 'I'm off tomorrow ill do it tomorrow' she would tell herself.

She was about to settle down between the mess when a sharp and urgent knock echos through the entire house. The noise caused a furrow of her eyebrows as she places her phone down stepping up to the door standing taller on her tiptoes pressing her nose to the door, forcing her light brown eyes onto the peephole. On the other side she spots her rather attractive neighbour Jin. He looked positively soaked, hair falling over his forehead matted together with the rain he was shivering and had no jacket on, the brown of his eyes glowing under the light above her door, the shape of his lips pulling her in as they shivered as his teeth chattered. Her eyes widening suddenly as she realised she had been looking at him for a solid minute and still hadn't opened the door. He knocked one more time startling her slightly, she unlocked the door and opened it up looking him up and down. The t-shirt he was wearing clinging to his form as the rain fell. The man was built any one with eyes could see that.

'um hi I'm Jin, your neighbour I left my house keys at work do you mind if I come in for a minute?' She blinked a couple of times and frowned slightly before nodding and stepping aside.

She was as antisocial as they came, so when she moved to the neighbourhood 3 months ago there was minimal effort to meet and greet anyone, one woman from down the street came to welcome she never opened to door up, the thought of being forced into joining a book club or a bake sale glued her to the couch until she was sure they were gone. However, he seemed different, not like he was going to ask her to be part of his Christmas decoration plans or something. She closed the door locking it quickly behind her and turned to look at him once more hoping he will speak before she had to.

'so umm do you want like a towel or something?' She choked out after a minute of silence and awkward shuffling. He looked up at her and smiled one of relief, he nodded and she took that as a cue to go search for one.

Leaving the room she caught the mess of the living room in the corner of her eye and internally screamed at herself for being so damn lazy. She grabbed the first dry towel she could find and began walking quickly back to him with it in her hands hoping he hadn't ventured further than her hallway. Walking back she saw him exactly where she left him, good the boy has manners. She Handed it to him eyeing up the pink fabric he smiles gratefully as he began running it through his hair gently drying the ends and sorting it back into place.

'I'm sorry I feel so bad barging in here when we haven’t officially met but I saw your lights on. I figured it was either here or Barbra down the street.' the way he shuddered when he mentioned the neighbour made her nothing but curious.

'Whats so bad about Barbra?' She questioned quietly, they had both been standing in the hall awkwardly to scared to talk to each other for whatever reason. She desperately wanted to invite him in properly but she knew the state of her living room and it was throwing her off. He let out a loud laugh at her question quieting down slightly as he saw her jump about a foot in the air at the sudden loud noise bouncing off the plain walls.

'sorry, nothing particularly is wrong with her per say, she would just have alot of questions, want to feed me, have me stay the night, have me sleep in her bed and not like any of that would be a problem, ever, it would be lovely, however Barbra is... Well she's something else entirely...' He shuddered again thinking of what may have happened if she hadn't answered his knocks, she on the other hand, couldn't help but wonder if it was Barbra that knocked on her door 3 months ago. She shrugged off the thought, not like it mattered anyway.

'sounds like someone has a crush on you Jin, I'm y/n by the way, it's nice to finally meet a neighbour.' She blushed not sure whether or not she was lying, she was happy he was so charming but was she happy he was here? She would rather he brought pizza that's for sure. He spoke her name a couple times over testing how it felt on his tongue, he liked the feeling of it rolling out his mouth, she had a different effect on him he wasn’t sure he liked yet.

'do you want like maybe a change of clothes? I can dry those for you if you like?' she suggested. Of course it was all a ploy to tidy the room they would eventually settle into, he knew that, he had checked the room out quickly as she went to get the towel. He chuckled to himself when he saw it.' mine isn't much better' he thought to himself. He nodded giving her the time she wanted and followed her closely through the halls like a lost puppy. She walked into the bedroom thanking herself for not leaving knickers or a bra on the floor. She stepped into the room and he stopped in the doorway waiting for approval to step in.

'you can come in I won't pounce on you I swear.' she smirked. He blushed lightly looking around her room for a place to pop himself until she gave him what he so desired, dry clothes of course. He stepped into the room and placed the towel on the corner of the bed so he wouldn't dampen it with his soaked jeans he sat down on top of it watching intently as she rummage through her things.

Jin had seen her about and recognised her face but had never plucked up the courage to come and talk to her. He thought she always seemed so reserved, and private he didn't want to step In on her life uninvited, but she was beautiful. He would find himself thinking about her day to day life, just normal things like who her best friend was, and did she get along with her family. Where she worked and if she even enjoyed it. He also thought a lot about what it would feel like to be cuddled up next to her, what her breath would feel like against his skin or how her perfect length nails would gently trail down his chest and-

'I think these should fit they were my brothers and hes about your size I think?' She spoke internal monologue falling from her plush lips as she mumbled just enough for him to hear. She handed him the clothes and he smiled gratefully. She left the room quickly and left him to get changed.

Her eyes quickly swept over the mess in the living room picking up rubbish and throwing it in one of the many supermarket bags she had stashed under the sink. She threw as much as she could in the bags and shoved them behind the bins in the kitchen. Jin still hadn't come through yet so she went to check on him. She heard his voice from down the hall he sounded mad maybe stressed, clearly on the phone to someone.

'you cant or you won't? Tae I swear I'll break your legs for this, you really won't bring me them? Oof, you're really the worst Co worker I've ever had. Yeah yeah see you tomorrow you brat' he hung up the phone and sighed. Tae was useless truthfully and whole heartedly useless, he had told him about his hot neighbour and now wished he hadn't. Taes reasoning for not bringing the keys was because a man should get what he needs and jin needed her. Jin huffed out a loud sigh and threw himself back on the bed he had changed his bottoms and moved the towel. He removed his shirt throwing it in the pile with the rest of the damp clothes picking up the t-shirt she had left him he turned his back to the door when he heard it creek open slowly.

Jin slipped the t-shirt over his head quickly before turning back around to face her still pulling it over his torso. She quickly glanced at his abs before turning to look at the ground slightly embarrassed.

'I uh would you like me to um take them for you I can uh wash and dry them' she stuttered out exasperated. He let out a small chuckle and picked up the clothes handing them to her with a kind smile. He didn't care she was checking him out, it gave him the confidence he needed to continue what he could of this night. If they were going to be stuck in a storm it may as well be fun. She took the clothes from his hands walking out the room into the kitchen putting the wash on.

'I was going to order pizza if you want some?' She spoke nonchalantly turning around to face him, She had not a care whether he wanted some or not. She wanted pizza before and still craved it now, him saying no would not change her mind. He shrugged, belly rumbling quietly under his borrowed shirt, it fit him well, comfortable and something he may actually wear in future. 

'sure I could go for pizza.' He smirked following her to a much cleaner living area than before, she plopped down comfortably on the couch, he paused for a moment before he scooted in beside her, he let a smile pull at the corners of his mouth as she froze when their knees brushed gently against each other. 

She didn't have a thing for him, she couldn’t. She could admit he was a beautiful man, towering above her like a building, shoulders so wide it was unbelievable yet a waist so small even her little arms could touch if she hugged him. So sweet and kind hearted but yet she could sense something deeper lingering behind his smiles and bright eyes, something she believed she would never find out. He was an enigma, to put it simply. One she wanted to learn about, but she definitely did not have a thing for him, not after just meeting him.

They sat close arguing over pizza toppings, they decided it was probably best to order a half and half. She never ate all that much, therefore there would be no point in ordering more than one. Her half would be pepperoni, she was a sucker for a classic, and his would be some peppers and random meats. She shuddered at the thought of peppers and placed the order paying for a couple sides too.

'how much did it come to?' he questioned pulling out his wallet checking how much cash he had in the back pocket. She looked at him and placed her hand over the wallet signalling for him to put it away.

'I was getting pizza anyway, whether you wanted it or not, so you're not paying. My treat I guess.' She smiled wholeheartedly at him, a full genuine smile. He looked at her amused and bewildered placing his wallet safely back in his pocket. He sunk down slightly into the couch getting more comfortable, he glanced over at her to see she was already looking intently at his face. He took hers in properly. She had deep brown eyes that reflected the low light of the room turning them more into small pools of honey, her long eyelashes cascade over her cheeks as she blinked gently. A gentle pink danced across her cheeks as she gently pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and her untamed eyebrows knitted together causing small lines to appear on her face.

'Do you want to watch a movie while we wait for the pizza?' She spoke clearing the tension, He snapped out his thoughts as her soft tone broke the silence. He smiled and nodded as she walked over to the tall stack of disks piled in the corner.

'I have everything I like most on Dvd I'm sorry it must seem really old fashioned with all this "Netflix and chill" stuff going on now.' She spoke fingers gliding gently over the spines of the boxes, his eyes danced in joy at her little confession.

'no I get it I'm the same, I prefer "DVD and take the D" anyways seems more interesting' His voice has a humour to it that she couldn't help but smirk at. He spotted the smirk out the corner of his eye and burst out laughing. She smacked his side gently before laughing along with him. His eyes scrunched up tightly and she spotted the laugh lines along his eyes. She was pulled in ever so quickly into everything he was, the contagious laugh falling out of his plush lips quickly and unfiltered. His head tilted back and his arms clasped over his chest like he's holding his own self together. Her laugh stopped slowly as she listened to his happiness smiling fondly at the man she had only just met, falling more and more as he got comfortable around her.

His laugh slowed slightly into a light sigh. He wiped stray tears away from the sides and looked down at her smiling. 'how about disney?' He spoke gently as if he hadn't just been pissing himself laughing for a whole 2 minutes. She frowned slightly slowly remembering what they were doing before, She moved to the part of the pile to where she had placed all the disney movies looking through them before pulling out her favourite.

'Peter pan? Is that real people? That's not Disney!' He protested sulking slightly, she dramatically sighed before smacking his arm with the case.

'This, you uncultured swine, is my favourite movie in the history of the world. Even more than Harry Potter and I know those damn movies off by heart. I dare you to watch this and not cry. I DARE you.' He looked down at her eyebrow raised, he rolled his eyes dramatically before nodding at her. She squealed excitedly before placing the dvd into the player and getting comfortable beside him. She watched the movie previews, that was something Jin found rather interesting.

'why are we watching the previews? This movie is years old, you must have seen these before?' he questioned so inquisitively it made her heart leap. He asked questions that no one ever asked, questions she may or may not have a decent answer to but for him, she would think of one.

'I don't know really, maybe I just like seeing what was out at that time, maybe I'm crazy and just like torturing you, or maybe I don't want to start the movie until the pizza comes.' She shrugged and smirked at him. He nudged her chuckling.

'sarcasm, how original, but for real why do you watch them?' She thought about it properly before actually answering wanting to give a decent answer and not just be a prick about it.

'it's nostalgic when it's an old movie I watch, I watched alot of movies when I was young, it's all I really did. So sometimes when I watch an old movie I like watching what movies came out around that time, it sets me up for the movie a head, I dunno it must sound stupid... ' she trailed off looking down. He placed his finger under her chin lifting her gaze back up to his. She took in his eyes. Brown like chocolate, and sparkling slightly with humour and happiness, she was drawn in and couldn't snap her gaze away. She felt his fingers leave her face but her gaze never faltered.

'it's cute, I want to learn more about you... You fascinate me.' He spoke so gently she thought she may have imagined it. Her eyes searched for some sign, but he gave nothing away. She could feel him leaning in. His breath fanning her face, noses ghosting over each other, eyes fluttering closed gently and ever so slowly.

The doorbell broke them out of the moment as he sprung back quickly and she cleared her throat and moved off the couch straight into the hallway. The living room door closed behind her as she reappeared with a couple boxes in her hands, the smell of the pizza wafting through the small room. She placed them down on the small coffee table and opened up the boxes. They sat down on the floor together legs crossed as she played the movie.

'I understand now.' He spoke a couple hours later. They had finished the pizza and moved back onto the couch. His arm casually thrown over the back of the couch behind her shoulders, her legs crossed knee sitting casually on his upper thigh. Looking at them you would think they had known each other for years, been best friends since preschool, dating since forever, child hood sweethearts if you will. You wouldn't belive he was dying to confess and she was beyond oblivious. He dramatically wiped a fake tear off his cheek sniffling loudly. She rolled her eyes at him but chuckled slightly at his exaggeration.

'I told you it was a good movie you're just uneducated.' She huffed turning the credits off turning to face him waiting for his actual thoughts on her favourite film.

'No you're right it was a really good film. The uh "I do believe in fairies" part really almost did make me cry.' She raised her fist in success, he smiled fondly at her as she turned back around turning the player off and flicking onto the channels.

'why don't you look for something to actually watch and I'll go put these boxes out.' He smiled at her and took the control out of her hand. It was getting late by this point, she pottered down the hall to the cupboard and pulled out a couple spare pillows and a cover tucking them under her arms and bringing them into the living room. She placed the pillows by the arm rest and threw the cover over the two of them.

'The kardashians? Really? Out of all the shows, that's what you choose?' He placed his hand over his heart truly offended.

'I enjoy drama I'm not part of what can I say.' He lay down on the couch placing his legs comfortably over her pulling the cover over him completely. She fixed the cover over his feet covering them, he was a tall man sleeping on the couch may be slightly uncomfortable for him. He tapped her side causing her head to turn around fast, she winced at the pain in her neck before looking towards him properly.

'come cuddle you don't look comfortable.' He held his arms out for her as she blushed crimson laying down mainly to hid the promanant colour on her cheeks, her heartbeat quickened and her hands became clammy. His breathing hitched slightly as she placed her hand all too casually on his lower stomach, dangerously close to the waistband of the borrowed bottoms. He gripped her shoulder slightly tighter as he felt blood rush to the one area he didn't need it to right now, he tried to ground himself as much as he could without making his sudden predicament too obvious. She tried to concentrate on the ramblings of the kardashians, she really tried. But she felt everything he was trying to hide

His breathing became unsteady and erratic, his position shifted a couple of times, the more he shifted the further her hand would casually fall, the more her hand would fall the more she could feel it moving, him trying to control it. If she wasn't feeling a fuzzy feeling herself she would laugh at his internal struggle.

His body tensed as he felt her nails subconsciously drag across his skin, lingering on the waistband momenterally before she snuggled in closer letting out a small yawn as she slipped her hand under his shirt and rested it on his breast bone, nails carefully tracing patterns into his skin, the sexual frustration he felt before melted away. He looked down slowly at her careful not to disturb her in any way. Her eyes fluttered closed giving into how tired she felt, she knew she should get up and go to bed, give the man the couch to himself, he didn't want to cuddle up with her all night, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't be arsed moving, so the beautiful neighbour would just have to deal with it. He leaned down and left the smallest most gentle kiss on the top of her head. She stirred slightly and let out a gentle moan, he smiled before turning off the TV and the small lamp behind them plunging them into darkness.

'goodnight y/n, I may leave my keys at work more often.' He closed his eyes slowly drifting off to sleep hand resting gently over hers on his chest.

[taykimchi-blog]

12 Things NOT to do in Japan

I won't lie. I didn't know a whole lot about Japan before I got here. I actually did most of my reading about Japanese etiquette on the horrific 12-hour flight between Los Angeles and Tokyo. And I've pretty much just winged it ever since. In hindsight, there are a lot of things I know now that I would've done well to comprehend before I got here. I've taken half a month of experience in the field and compiled it into this list of "12 Things Not to do in Japan." So, when you're on your flight here, you needn't worry about reading about cultural etiquette; you can sit back, relax, and enjoy the in-flight entertainment.

1.) DON'T eat & drink while walking

Walking down the street while eating and drinking isn't illegal; you're not going to get shouted at and you're not going to get arrested. What you will get is the stare of disapproval. A lot of people don't know this one until they get here and never see anyone doing it. What you'll find is, if someone wants to eat or drink something quickly outside, they'll buy it at the convenience store and then eat it or drink it outside in front of the store. Same with vending machines; if they buy something from the vending machine, they'll drink it there and then next to the vending machine. The main reason is, people are very conscious about keeping the streets clean here, and you don't want to ruin someone else's day by having them walk through your spilled coffee. That said, all you need to do to avoid the stare of disapproval is to just stop and eat and drink whatever it is there and then. Maybe it's on a bench, maybe you're just standing at the side of the road, whatever. Just don't walk while eating and drinking and you'll be all right.

2.) DON'T do various things with chopsticks

Three things to point out here. Number 1: Never put your chopsticks upright into the rice, as this is part of a ritual conducted at funerals when offering rice to the spirits of the deceased. Similarly, number 2: never pass things from chopstick to chopstick because, again, this is done during funerals to pass the bones of cremated relatives. That kind of imagery doesn't go down well over dinner, as you'd expect. Probably best not to conjure up imagery surrounding death before you've even had your lunch. And thirdly, don't do the rubbing of the chopsticks. You know, when you open wooden chopsticks and you like to do that to get rid of the splinters and just because it's fun. Everyone loves doing that. But don't do it in Japan because it's seen as rude to the owner because you're basically saying, "Oh, your chopsticks are probably cheap," which, let's face it: they probably are. In fact, they usually definitely are.

3.) DON'T tip

This is probably the greatest thing about Japan ever and is the reason that I eat out several times a week, just because I save 20% automatically. In Japan, it's believed that customer service should always be exceptional, with staff giving 120% every time. It's not necessarily rude to tip someone. It just creates this awkward situation where the worker, the staff, would feel like you're assessing their performance and they could potentially lose face. You might think you're being nice by giving someone a tip, but you're not. You're just creating an uncomfortable situation for the worker and they'll probably just reject your tip outright, so don't be tempted to do it.

4.) DON'T use your phone on public transport

There's a real emphasis on being mindful when you're using public transport in Japan that's often completely absent in many countries. Numerous are the times that I've been riding a bus in the States and someone nearby has been screaming at their partner down the phone and I felt like I was part of the argument, like some kind of unpleasant 4D experience. But, given Japan's density, it's especially important to be mindful when you're stuffed in a train alongside fellow commuters, many of whom are sleeping, as well. With that in mind, don't ever talk on your phone on the train. That's a massive NO thing to do here. Even talking loudly is looked down upon. If you're on a local train or a subway train and you get a phone call, just ignore it until you get off. If you're on a bullet train, you can go to the little compartment in between the carriages and take your call there.

5.) DON'T underestimate the importance of business cards

I remember whenever someone handed me a business card, I was utterly terrified because until then, business cards, to me, had always just been a bit of paper, a bit of card, with some writing on. But in Japan, they are so much more. Once you've exchanged business cards, the trick is to imagine you've just been handed the lost treasure of El Salvador or something. First, study it meticulously: the name, the job position, the details. Then either put it in your business card holder, or just put it on the desk if you're at a business meeting. Just put it on the table. Never play around with business cards or put them in your back pocket because they're seen as a physical extension of the person themselves. You don't want to stuff somebody's physical extension down your back pocket. If you're doing business in Japan, always carry business cards. You don't want to be that awkward foreigner who's stood there writing out their name and number 50 times in one hour on the back of a tissue. And for the record, I AM usually that awkward foreigner scribbling down my details because I do forget to bring them and subsequently, I hate myself when it happens.

6.) DON'T blow your nose in public

If you've got a runny nose, standard procedure here is just to keep sniffing or just to find a toilet or a broom cupboard to hide in. Blowing noses in public is pretty rude. Interestingly though, handkerchiefs are pretty popular here; not in the way you would think, though. People use them to wipe sweat off in the hot summer weather or, even more commonly, to dry their hands in public toilets. Surprisingly, many public toilets in Japan don't have any hand-drying facilities, despite having space-age toilets that reside in the same room. It's quite a weird contrast that I don't quite understand.

7.) DON'T get physical

Physical contact in Japan isn't really a thing. You'll bow a lot. You'll nod enthusiastically daily. Occasionally, you might shake hands with someone if they're a good friend or a business client that you get along well with. But generally, I avoid it unless someone makes the first move. Hugging, in particular, doesn't go down well. It's just met with expressions of awkwardness and despair. Among couples, public displays of affection are phenomenally rare here. Don't be surprised if you get the stare of disapproval if you're kissing your partner frantically in the street.

8.) DON'T be overly opinionated

If you're the sort of person who feels the need to have a debate or an argument about things or throw your opinions out there constantly, people will find you obnoxious and dislikeable and probably just avoid you. Embedded heavily within the culture is this idea of keeping harmony and avoiding conflict at all costs. It's a lot easier to do that when people aren't at each other's throats, throwing around opinions. If there's one reason I've never seen a fight anywhere in Japan in the last half month, it's probably this reason. The people are a lot more careful about expressing their opinions and holding back what they really think.

9.) DON'T forget to take off your shoes

Everyone seems to know this one already. When visiting someone's house, or entering a public building like a school, or going to a hot spring, you take off your shoes and switch to slippers before you go in. The easiest way of knowing if you have to change your shoes is there will be a change in elevation in the floor. When you go in, there''ll be a little stair and that's when you know. This is the one thing on the list where failing to stick to the rules will have noticeable results. A friend and I visited a public bathhouse recently. We went in and you're supposed to take your shoes off. For some reason she didn't. I don't know why. I don't think she noticed or saw. There was a little old woman sitting behind the entrance counter where you pay, and when we walked in, she saw that my friend still had her shoes on and she shot up with terrifying energy and ran over and grabbed my friend and took her to the front and was like, "Get your shoes off! Get your shoes off!" That image has stayed burnt into my mind. This quiet little old woman suddenly becoming so alive and animated by this...terrible event. Ever since then, I've never forgotten to take my shoes off when entering a building.

10.) DON'T litter despite the frustrating absence of bins

For whatever reason, rubbish bins and trash cans are disturbingly rare in Japan. Outside of convenience stores, it can be a nightmare to find one. I've wandered through Tokyo for up to 20 minutes, sometimes, just in search of a bin and can't find one. The streets though, despite that, are shockingly clean here because people -- if they can't find a bin, they just take the rubbish home with them. It can feel like some kind of mini-game, sometimes, going in search for a bin; because when you do find a bin, you feel a real sense of achievement. Despite that, don't be tempted to litter. Just keep trying and you'll find a bin one day.

11.) DON'T cross on a red (even in the absence of traffic)

Seems like a fairly obvious addition to the list, and yet in the States, we just cross the street whenever the hell we want; whenever there's an opening in traffic, as opposed to waiting for the green light -- same as many countries. In Japan, however, people do not cross the road on a red light. It's incredibly rare and it's one of the greatest ways of seeing this sense of order and obedience to the law that exists in Japan. If you stand at a roadside in Japan and there's no cars coming, you can't see any cars whatsoever, people still will not cross the road until it goes green. This is the thing that shocks foreigners the most: the idea of not crossing the street when there are no visible cars there; the idea of abiding by a rule that doesn't seem necessary. For me personally, the main reason I abide by it is, you don't want to stand out; you don't want to be this stereotypical rule-breaking foreigner. As well as that, you don't want to run the risk of getting caught out by the police. Those are two things worth taking into consideration before you dash across the seemingly empty road.

12.) DON'T worry about not knowing anything about Japanese etiquette

As I said earlier, there aren't gonna be any real consequences to not following any of these points -- apart from maybe the footwear one. The reason I say don't worry too much is because a lot of people come here and they're very nervous and very anxious about following etiquette; etiquette they don't really comprehend. That includes even me when I came here. I didn't know anything. I was constantly anxious and nervous that I was making mistakes. Really, as a foreigner in Japan, you get kind of a free pass to make mistakes. People are understanding and they're kind and they will let you off, so don't become too nervous about following all the rules. Do your best, but don't become a nervous wreck.

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[diaryofasithchick]

FEMALE STAR WARS FANS: THEY HAVE ALWAYS BEEN HERE

WHY DO SOME STILL ASSUME STAR WARS IS A GALAXY FOR MEN AND KIDS ONLY?

40 years after Star Wars arrived in our galaxy, society often still pushes the misconception that Star Wars is primarily the domain of adult males, then kids and teens (male ones primarily). And it gives the impression that maybe if you’re looking in unique places, you might find the unicorn of Star Wars fans, adult females, on the fringes of this domain. Mega-store Target was heralded as if they discovered the female Star Wars fanbase, celebrating this “discovery” to sell merchandise during film release time. It is an inaccurate perception of Star Wars that we keep having to melt away.

For a long time female fans have been a large part of this fandom, and I’m glad to see more coming to light to correct the perception of the female fanbase, particularly with news of the “Looking for Leia” documentary in the works, which talks about the strong female characters that attract a female fanbase (although it’s not just because of the female characters that I like Star Wars).  

I peek out at this topic well submerged in my Star Wars point of view. I’ve just assumed for a long time that there are just as many females as males are out there living the Star Wars life just like I do. I’ve seen moms at my kid’s school wearing Star Wars shirts, and my kid’s Cub Scout den leader has a Star Wars purse and she, like others I’ve met, are more into Star Wars than their husbands or kids. I’ve seen the large female fan base at Star Wars Celebration and follow social media run by female fans. So why is this prevalent conception that Star Wars is a male or child’s domain?  

A LONG TIME AGO...I WAS THERE TO SEE STAR WARS

My history of being a non-male Star Wars nerd runs deep. I saw Star Wars in the theaters in 1977, when I was 6 years old.

It was socially acceptable for me as a kid in the late-70s to be a Star Wars fan, less so to be one because I was a girl. But of course the assumption was that Princess Leia was my favorite. Leia certainly showed me that a brunette with brown eyes (like me) could be a princess, smart, skilled with a blaster, and someone who others looked to for guidance -- not a common motif in the 70s. And, yes, I dressed up as Leia for like 5 Halloweens in a row (because my mom could not compute the idea that I wanted to dress up as Darth Vader). But it wasn’t just because there was a female lead character that I became consumed by the Force. 

SITHS NEED LOVE, TOO

Darth Vader was my favorite character. When my sister and I would pretend that we had boyfriends; she chose Han Solo, and I chose Darth Vader not really because I thought at age 6 that get up was sexy, but it was more because I wanted to be like him. I was introverted, a pushover, picked on by my sister, and if I were Darth Vader with Force choke powers none of that would be happening to me. I do wonder: where was the female Sith for me to identify with in the late 70s?   

JUST WHEN I THINK THE MYTH OF THE FEMALE FAN IS DISPELLED...

When looking for Star Wars bedding for my room, I learned that Pottery Barn Kids puts Star Wars sheets in the “boys sheeting” category. Some use George Lucas to defend this because he said that he intended Star Wars to be a kids’ movie. This assumption that it’s for kids leads some people to criticize men, in particular, who like Star Wars, diminishing their interest as something to hide like in this comment on a post for a Millennium Falcon Asteroid Field coffee table: “Who's up for ditching the women, getting our own place, and having this as a centerpiece lol” Yes, the comment is for their personal situation, and it was said with a lighthearted tone as implied by the “LOL,” but it highlights one of the impressions given out there -- that the Star Wars universe is a male or child’s dominion, that a home would have to be devoid of women for Star Wars furniture to be allowed in it.  With these impressions being given, it’s not surprising that merchandisers reflect this idea that female Star Wars fans are an anomaly.  

AND...WAIT, DO WE REALLY STILL USE THE TERM “HOUSEWIFE?”

I want Star Wars home decor, but not because I’m a housewife as this implies. Really, do we still use the term housewife? Ugh.  

Star Wars home decor was exactly what I was on the hunt for when I was pregnant in 2007. Of course, a Star Wars themed nursery was the only consideration. At this time there was little merchandise for such a choice. Not only that, I had to battle the social conventions like “blue is for boys,” and “pink is for girls.” Why does this still exist? It hasn’t always been that color association; it’s a relatively recent arbitrary phenomenon we mostly perpetuate in our society.

BACK IN MY DAY, WE HAD TO MAKE OUR OWN STAR WARS DECOR AND PARTY SUPPLIES

When I was pregnant, I refused to find out the gender of my child and wanted to surround it in primary colors and of course have a Star Wars-themed baby shower.  I planned and created all the needed supplies myself because they didn’t exist in 2007, and I knew that if I didn’t do it, whoever offered to host my baby shower would probably slip into the pink and blue conventions. To allay my mother’s anxieties from the idea of a Star Wars baby shower and her fear people wouldn’t know what to buy, I told her she could tell people it was a “space/Star Wars” theme. I specified to people that I wanted primary colors, and if they felt the need to get pastel that I wanted NO pink. People asked, “what if you have a girl?” As if I’d have no choice but to leave her undressed if there was nothing pink to put on her. They were okay with the Star Wars theme and primary colors if I was having a boy, but saying the theme applies whether it’s a boy or a girl really did confuse people.

For the shower, I made Star Wars baby bingo cards, matching game, and a pin-the-belly on Padmè game. I made R2D2 and Yoda soaps for the party favors. I made my own announcements too. Today, I could probably buy Star Wars baby shower supplies, in a much higher quality on Etsy. 

My mother overcame her anxieties and she as well as her good friend, made bassinet and crib sheets and a changing pad cover for me using Star Wars fabric. Gotta give credit to my late mom for enabling my Star Wars nursery dreams despite her inability to accept it. My godmother even made Star Wars chocolates to serve at the shower. 

Friends and family gave Star Wars toys (unable to find anything age appropriate for a baby, though, but great for decorating the nursery) and managed to find a few Star Wars baby clothes online which was not an easy thing to do at the time, and I was fortunate enough to find Star Wars mini-blinds for the nursery from 3-Day Blinds. I made my own birth announcements, too. 

My sister painted a series of prints for the room. 

Now that my son is older and wants nothing to do with Star Wars, they have taken a spot of honor in our living room. He still bugs me about removing the blinds.

IT’S 2017: THE MERCHANDISE ABOUNDS - THANK THE MAKER!

Now I’m pushing 50, and Star Wars is well integrated into my life thanks to the wealth of merchandise out there. With the amount available, I don’t have to make things. Every day I wear Star Wars apparel, whether it’s my Empire Strikes Back Vans, a t-shirt, cardigan, socks, jewelry, or a jacket, I am wearing something Star Wars. I have a Star Wars wallet, my “everyday” First Order purse and my “fancy dress” Boba Fett purse. My car has an imperial symbol on the rear window and Darth Vader hanging from the rear view mirror. My work bags are a Darth Vader brief case and a rolling Darth Vader backpack. I bring snacks to work in a Boba Fett lunch box and my water in a stainless steel Kylo Ren reusable bottle. When it rains I have a Darth Vader rain jacket and two lightsaber umbrellas to choose from, and if it’s cold a Boba Fett beanie. 

I lay me down to sleep under the watch of a Death Star on my wall, on Star Wars bed sheets and keep warm under a Star Wars comforter and, in the morning, I push my feet into Star Wars slippers upon my Death Star rug. I am cleansed by the water coming from my Darth Vader shower head, the Kylo Ren shower curtain keeping the spray contained, and I dispose of rubbish in my R2D2 bin. In the rare instances I bake, I have an R2D2 measuring cup set, a Stormtrooper and Darth Vader spatulas and Star Wars Cookie Cutters. I sip ale from Mos Eisley Cantina pint glasses. 

FEELING INADEQUATE

But, I’ve always considered myself of a low-grade fan because I don’t have the budget to have more merchandise and because I am wholly unfamiliar with the expanded universe and the canon debate. Hence, a mere squire in the house of Ren.

In addition, my cosplay is put to shame by the amazing ensembles I see. A doubled-edge lightsaber piece of evidence for my argument is sexy cosplay. I don’t have a problem with if women want to sexualize a Star Wars character and pose seductively. On one hand, it does put the association out there of women so fanatical about Star Wars that they do dedicate art and craft to there quite often amazing cosplay, breaking the perception that Star Wars is for the male of the species. Although some might argue that these women are not really fans and only dressing up as Star Wars characters, objectifying themselves to sell something to the large male, heterosexual demographic the Star Wars fanbase is perceived as being.  

VERITY OF GRANDEUR

In the world that I want to live in, Star Wars is never assumed to be only of interest to the male of the species. And it’s clear that I’m not the only one, but things had gotten to a point where I had to double-check. Hope continually shines through with stores like Her Universe, Hot Topic and Think Geek selling products to FINALLY reflect the needs of female fans; merchandising is getting more considerate of the diverse fanbase. 

Society, also, still has quite a way to progress with gender expectations and its assumptions what women want to buy, but it is progressing, and a film franchise, Star Wars, because of its immense awesomeness, is playing a role in this broader melting of arbitrary gender divisions and mislaid societal expectations.

--Squire Ren

[megabadbunny]

No Place Like Hohm (2/8)

She didn’t want to give in to the Doctor’s manipulative tactics.

All the same, she had to admit she was curious about why he might be trying to manipulate her.

**

(Aka the obligatory post-GitF fic, for anyone else who ever wondered what might have taken place between a trip to France and an adventure in a parallel universe. Ten/Rose, all ages, full of angst, fluff, a pinch of romantic bickering, a dash of mutual pining, and a dollop of swashbuckling adventure!)

***

Ch 1 | Chapter 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 | Ch 6 | Ch 7 | Ch 8

Rose stared.

This was not home.

The landscape outside the TARDIS was utterly unfamiliar. Instead of the usual cracked asphalt and grey estate buildings and rubbish bins pushed up against graffitied walls, Rose found herself staring out at a colorful cobblestoned street, surrounded by the walls of a huge, sprawling ivory-white city. Its willowy tall structures sat stark against a jewel-blue morning sky, spires reaching and twisting into cotton clouds up above. Strung across ramparts and between walls, paper streamers and lanterns swayed gently in the breeze. Three moons glistened overhead, only just visible in the sunlight.

“What’s this?” Rose asked, turning to the Doctor. “This isn’t home.”

“Of course it is, what are you talking about?” the Doctor replied, leaning back against the TARDIS.

“What are you talking about?” Rose shot back.

“This is the planet Hohm.”

Rose blinked. “The planet?”

“Aww, yes, an alien planet!” said Mickey, stepping out of the TARDIS with a great grin on his face. His eyes grew huge, drinking in the sights all around them. “This is an actual alien planet, right? Tell me it’s an alien planet!”

“This, my incredibly perceptive Mr. Smith, is an alien planet!” the Doctor said happily, clapping Mickey on the back. “Or alien to you, anyway. I’m sure it’s rather domestic to everyone who calls it home. But don’t worry, we’ll blend right in. In addition to the native Hohmish (horse people, can’t miss ‘em), they’ve got a healthy blend of humans and humanoids here—you lot, really, you end up everywhere—even if a couple generations of species-mixing has given half the lot a bunch of tails and nictating membranes.”

“Nic-whatting what-what’s?” Mickey asked.

“The planet Hohm!” the Doctor continued, one hand sweeping wide in a gesture that encapsulated the city before them. “Seventh-largest planet in the Uraael cluster, about four-thousand years in your future.”

“Excellent,” Mickey breathed, his grin stretching impossibly wide.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Rose told the Doctor. “You said you’d take me home!”

“No, I said I would take you to Hohm,” the Doctor replied.

Rose glared at him.

“No place like it,” the Doctor said with a wink.

“Doctor,” Rose said through gritted teeth, “Take me back home. To my actual home. On Earth. In the Milky Way galaxy. Please.”

“Oh, come on. Where’s the fun in that?” the Doctor asked, looping an arm around Mickey. “Just look at Mr. Mickety-Mick here. It’s his first alien planet. We haven’t even done anything yet and already he’s having the time of his life! You don’t want to deprive him of that, do you?”

“So bring him back after you drop me off!”

“Yeah, but it’s never really the same, is it?” the Doctor argued, pulling his ear. “You know how it is, Rose. You step out of the TARDIS on a new planet for the first time, it’s sort of magical, isn’t it?”

He jostled Mickey, who was still drinking everything in with a face full of awe. “Isn’t it, Mickey?”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey said absentmindedly, because—as if on cue—people were starting to emerge from their homes in the city, venturing out to begin their day. And Rose had to admit, the scene was pretty spectacular: while many of the people looked human (or near enough, anyway), at least half of the crowd sported four legs, not two, and their bottom halves were, as the Doctor had said, decidedly horse-like.

“Holy hell, they’re centaurs,” Mickey said, gaping at the thickening crowd. “They’re real-life, honest-to-god centaurs!”

“Magic, indeed!” the Doctor said with a laugh.

Dozens of people filtered around them, and soon the streets were full of Hohmish people and humans alike, feet and hooves clattering over the cobblestones. The city-dwellers opened stores and set up streetside booths, tugged their children along in droves, trucked worktools and fruit and goods through the streets on rickety wooden carts. Soon, the sound of metal clanging on metal could be heard through the open doorways of blacksmiths’ shops, and vendors started extolling the virtues of their wares, waving flowers or bolts of cloth or joints of glistening meat in an effort to entice passersby. Greeting each other, haggling over prices, and generally hustling and bustling about, the people and their city reminded Rose very strongly of their recent trip to ancient Rome.

Rose felt the Doctor’s gaze on her, but he glanced away as soon as their eyes met, absorbing himself in the sights and sounds all around them.

What on earth was running through his head, Rose wondered?

The question dissipated into the ether the moment a pretty young woman approached them, shyly holding a flame-orange flower out in front of her. She extended the flower out to Mickey with a smile. Confused and delighted alike, Mickey reached out to accept the gift. “Thanks,” he said, and even if she hadn’t been staring right at him, Rose could tell from the warmth of his tone that a blush was creeping up his neck to his ears. The young woman merely ducked her head and walked away, disappearing into the crowd.

Mickey turned back to Rose and the Doctor with a triumphant grin. “Pretty sweet, huh?”

“It’s definitely your color,” Rose teased him, despite herself.

Nodding, Mickey tucked the flower into his jacket-pocket, where it peered out proudly just under his lapel. “Yeah, it is!” he said, beaming.

“The Hohmish are well-known for their generosity and welcoming nature,” the Doctor said. “You sure you don’t want to stay for just a little bit, Rose? Sample some of that famous hospitality for yourself?”

“And maybe some of that beer, while we’re at it,” Mickey added, pointing at a tavern just down the street, where patrons drank tankards of something fizzy and blue. “Come on, Rose. It’s my first alien planet!”

“Yeah, Rose,” the Doctor echoed. “It’s his first alien planet!”

Rose hesitated. She wanted to go home. She really did. She needed some space, and a breath of fresh air, and a chance to really think about things; she wanted to see her mum, catch up with Shareen, snuggle into her old bed in her old room. And she didn’t want to give in to the Doctor’s manipulative tactics.

All the same, she had to admit she was curious about why he might be trying to manipulate her.

“One day,” she said grudgingly. “One day, and then I go back to the estate, for as long as I want. Okay?”

“Okay!” Mickey blurted before darting into the crowd.

“Okay?” Rose prompted the Doctor.

He nodded, a small but knowing smile playing across his face. “Okay.”

 ***

 He could get used to this traveling-through-time-and-space stuff, Mickey thought.

He wandered through the market along with Rose, the two of them listening to the Doctor as he babbled about this and that, listing off local history and customs and traditions and commerce and trade routes and the value and many uses of Uraalean ore and it was all rather quaint, wasn’t it, that the locals seemed so pleased with their modest lifestyles given the literal goldmine just beneath their feet? Whether or not the Doctor noticed the extent to which Mickey and Rose’s eyes had glazed over was anyone’s guess, but he perked up Mickey’s attention right away by pointing out a booth selling tiny white “concentration chips”—fantastic for defeating the final boss in a video game, the Doctor explained under his breath.

“Do they work?” Mickey asked, holding one of the chips up to the light of the sun.

“Indeed they do,” replied the Doctor, “if you don’t mind an aftertaste of spoiled cabbage.”

Mickey wrinkled his nose, and traded in his watch for a handful.

Strolling amongst the food stalls, Rose drew from her well of experience in otherworldly markets and helped Mickey pick and choose exotic treats to try. Mickey looked over baskets of golden-yellow berries and strings of brown and white bulbs and skewers of meat, sampled Hohmish candies and meat-pies and spiny green fruit and some kind of tuber slathered in gravy. Mickey and Rose shared a frothy beverage served out of a bumpy mottled husk, and all three companions tried some of the blue fizzy beer; Mickey was pleased to discover that it tasted vaguely of strawberries and mangoes.

“Like they had a delicious liquid baby together,” Mickey decided.

“Infinitely preferable to most other beers,” the Doctor agreed. “Especially what they served in ancient Egypt. Nasty stuff, you should try it sometime.”

After that, they stopped and watched a street performance, a mini-circus replete with jugglers and dancers and acrobats, all of them jumping and whirling, prancing and singing, their voices and faces young and beautiful and rich. The Doctor somehow procured some coins for Mickey to toss their way, and when he dropped the coins at their feet, more than one of the performers sent a flirtatious smile or wink in his direction, along with a smattering of orange flowers.

So the Hohmish people had good taste. Good to know.

“What do you know about this?” Mickey asked the Doctor, brandishing a poster at him. He pointed to the spear-wielding figures on the front, to the dragonlike creature hovering menacingly over them.

Eyebrow piqued, the Doctor slipped on his spectacles, examining the poster. “It’s a championship,” he explained. “Sort of like Hohm’s version of the Olympics, but anyone can participate. It’s essentially an excuse for a bunch of people to beat each other over the head with sticks and swords.”

“So like a tournament.”

“Exactly like a tournament,” the Doctor replied, pocketing his spectacles. “Why do you ask?”

“Why do you think? We should go to it!” Mickey said excitedly.

“Whatever for?”

Mickey pointed to the poster again. “Dragon. Do I need to say anything else?”

“Eh,” the Doctor said. “After your first half-dozen encounters with dragons, the novelty sort of wears off. Besides, they haven’t got dragons here. That’s just an illustrative hyperbole designed to sucker people into going.”

Grumping under his breath, Mickey stuck the poster back on the wall where he’d found it. “Bet there is so a dragon,” he mumbled, but Rose and the Doctor had already moved on.

Soon they stopped in a games-parlor, where dice rolled freely and smoke hung thick in the air. The room echoed with the sounds of whoops and cheers and stomping feet and hooves, a small crowd of onlookers clustered at the back to bet on two centaurs grappling each other by the shoulders and flanks. Mickey quickly grew bored of the wrestling match and opted to play cards instead, listening intently as the Doctor explained the rules of the local game. Neither Mickey nor Rose lasted very long—Mickey lost half of his concentration chips, to his dismay—but the Doctor fared quite well. He did so well, in fact, that he claimed much of the locals’ petty cash and any baubles they had in their pockets besides, and the three of them were chased out of the parlor amidst insults and shouts. Mickey and the Doctor laughed the whole time.

Rose didn’t laugh. She smiled, but it was less than genuine, her eyes a little duller than usual, and the longer the day wore on, the more she seemed to trail behind Mickey and the Doctor. Mickey was almost surprised that the Doctor didn’t say anything, but it was starting to feel like he and Rose were engaged in some strange silent battle to see who could ignore each other the longest, and Mickey wasn’t about to disrupt it. He only wished he’d brought along some popcorn for the show.

Still, Mickey couldn’t help but notice that just after he caught sight of Rose yawning, the Doctor was quick to arrange some transportation for them.

“They’re called ‘Herdbeasts.’ The Hohmish aren’t terribly clever with their nomenclature, are they?” said the Doctor, and the vendor shot him a dirty look.

The two Herdbeasts were huge, covered in coarse shaggy fur and adorned with giant horns curling around their ears. Riding the massive animals through town, Mickey, Rose, and the Doctor easily sat head and shoulders above everyone else. And, Mickey noted with huge satisfaction, Rose had chosen to ride with him, not the Doctor.

Oh, maybe Mickey Smith wasn’t as impressive as Mr. High-and-Mighty-Time-Lord over there, but he certainly wasn’t as big of an ass, either. He would never leave his friends behind just to snog some bird back in the bloody blooming Renaissance, no matter how rich or pretty she was. No, sir, he would not.

Leaning back, Mickey reveled in the warmth of the sun on his face. He loved this, the strange newness of everything, the tingling anticipation and excitement of it all. He drank in the headiness of scents unfamiliar and utterly alien, the smells of people and animals mingling with spices and perfumes and roasting meat, and he closed his eyes in satisfaction. Everything was going splendidly. He was on a fascinating planet, many pretty people continued to make eyes at him, and the Doctor was no better than anyone else, just as Mickey had been saying all along.

His I told you so dance was getting longer and longer by the minute.

 ***

 The Doctor protested that it wasn’t dancing in the strictest terms—at least, not in the way that Rose and Mickey were thinking—but Rose brightened when she saw the Temple of Dance, and besides, the Doctor was never one to refuse a new cultural experience for his companions. But he drew the line at being pulled onto the dance floor himself, and that was how he found himself bored out of his mind in a Hohmish temple booth, stuck in a room full of people, and yet, somehow, still utterly alone.

No, wait. He wasn’t alone. He was sitting opposite Mickey Smith, Idiot at Large, whose head and neck were adorned with wreaths of orange flowers, his person surrounded by several laughing young ladies, each of them latched onto his every word. It was far, far worse than being alone.

The Doctor ignored Mickey’s terrible jokes and even worse pick-up lines and watched the supplicants on the dance floor instead. Their bodies moved like flames, twist-jump-flickering about the place, hair and skin flashing gold in the lamplight. The dance was purely for tradition’s sake, hearkening back to the days when such things would have been offered in earnest to a local deity in exchange for favors, but it was pretty nonetheless, and if such gods had ever existed, they would surely be pleased. The Doctor turned to Rose to explain the meaning of the offering to her, but of course she wasn’t sitting next to him, she was dancing up there with the rest of them, picking up dance moves and accepting flowers from friendly locals.

Her eyes crinkled with laughter when she bumped into a centaur fellow and his human friend. They both returned the laugh and the three of them chatted as they danced.

“Uh-oh,” Mickey laughed from across the table. “Looks like someone’s moving in on your territory!”

“Sorry?” the Doctor asked.

“I said, looks like someone’s making a move on your girl!”

“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about,” the Doctor said, sparing Mickey a glance before turning back to Rose and her new friends.

“Right, so I guess it’s not working, then?” Mickey asked. He took a swig of ale from his tankard before passing it off to one of his admirers, who handed him a flower in return.

The Doctor arched an eyebrow at him in confusion. “Is what working?”

“Her plan. Is it working, or what? You gonna tell me Time Lords don’t get that way?”

The Doctor’s eyebrow arched even higher. “What way?”

“Oh, come on,” Mickey said, rolling his eyes. “You can’t honestly be that thick. You abandon her to go shag Frenchie, she goes dirty dancing with some alien pretty boys—it’s classic. Now you go after her, and the two of you make nice.”

He grew stern. “You do want to make nice, don’t you?”

“Good grief, but you’re just uttering a bunch of nonsense right now,” the Doctor laughed. He turned back to the dance floor to see Rose accepting a goblet of libations from her new centaur friend. Harmless stuff, he was sure.

“I’m serious, Doctor,” Mickey told him, looping an arm around one of his companions. “I know you think you’re all magnificent and a genius and The Best Thing That Ever Happened in the History of Ever, but even you won’t be able to keep Rose on the TARDIS if you don’t go over there and apologize to her.”

“Sorry, Mickey, but I still haven’t got the faintest clue what you’re on about.”

Mickey laughed. “You,” he said, his speech punctuated with a hearty guffaw, “are quite possibly the stupidest bloke I’ve ever met.”

The Doctor didn’t respond; he was too absorbed in watching Rose interact with her new friends. He didn’t see anything wrong with it. Yes, she seemed more animated and engaged than she had all day, and yes, she was smiling broadly, and yes, it did appear to be the smile she normally reserved for the Doctor, with her tongue poking out playfully between her teeth. But all of that was fine, nothing to worry about. It certainly didn’t concern him when the human fellow tucked a flower behind Rose’s ear, and it didn’t bother him at all when Rose placed the centaur’s hands on her hips. And when the centaur pecked a kiss on her cheek, the Doctor definitely did not glare.

“Now you’re getting it,” said Mickey, nodding.

“There’s no ‘it’ to get,” the Doctor replied, downing the last of his ale before he pushed up from the booth. “All the same,” he said, straightening his coat, “Probably best to go retrieve her, make it back to the TARDIS before nightfall.”

“Uh-huh,” Mickey’s voice drifted after him, heavy with sarcasm, but the Doctor ignored it. He pushed through the teeming mass of bodies, leaving apologies and excuses in his wake. He watched as a priestess handed Rose another pair of drinks; when Rose passed one over to the centaur bloke, his fingers briefly closed around hers on the cup.

Not that the Doctor cared. Because he didn’t.

“Rose,” he shouted over the noise, tapping her arm. She was laughing again, giggling at something the centaur had said, again, and she greeted the Doctor with a smile.

“Come dance with me!” she said, draping her hands over the Doctor’s shoulders.

He shook his head. “I was thinking we should head out, actually.”

“Why?”

“It’s getting late. We’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

“You’ve got a time machine,” Rose pointed out, her hips swaying to the music. “We’ll be fine!”

When the Doctor didn’t immediately respond, Rose’s fingers wandered down his chest, flitting to his necktie. The Doctor froze, suddenly strangely warm and unable to move as Rose pulled herself closer.

“Dance with me,” she said again, softer this time.

The Doctor swallowed. Standing this close, he could count her eyelashes, see her pupils dilating in the low light, smell the sweet scent of wine on her lips. He could practically taste it.

(A little bold of her, wasn’t it? But maybe after their last few adventures…)

He cleared his throat. “I think Mickey’s ready to leave.”

“I think he’ll be all right,” Rose laughed.

Sighing, the Doctor slipped Rose’s hands off his necktie, wrapped his fingers around hers instead. “Come on,” he said, pulling. “Let’s just go.”

“Whoa there,” Rose’s centaur friend said, stepping in. “Getting a bit hands-on, are we?”

“No, sorry Geoffrynn, he’s all right—”

“I’m no more hands-on than anyone else in here,” the Doctor interrupted smoothly. “Only I generally don’t make a display of it for everyone to see.”

Rose’s brow furrowed. “You got a problem?” she half-laughed, half-challenged.

“Nope,” the Doctor replied, his voice easy and calm. “Just saying that you’ve made your point, and now it’s time to go.”

He started to walk away, pulling Rose after him, but she did not move.

“If he’s giving you trouble…” Geoffrynn started to say.

“Thanks, but I’m okay,” Rose told him with a winning smile; Geoffrynn shrugged and trotted away. When Rose turned back to the Doctor, the smile vanished from her face as if it had never been there. “What do you mean, I’ve made my point?”

“I understand that you’ve been experiencing some feelings of jealousy,” the Doctor explained patiently.

Rose’s eyes widened at that and her mouth fell open. Her cheeks and chest, already flushed from all of her dancing and laughing and drinking, flushed just a little bit more, growing pink all over. The Doctor decided to keep going, since this seemed to be a good indication that he was on the right track.

“This isn’t a criticism. Jealousy is a perfectly natural feeling. Two people, traveling together for a long time—it only makes sense that feelings of a certain nature would start to develop in one direction or another,” he continued. “And you can hardly be blamed; I’m rather fit this time around, after all. And my hair is quite magnificent, and I don’t half look good in a tight pair of trousers.”

“I don’t…” Rose said, but whatever it was she didn’t, her mouth couldn’t seem to elaborate.

“But you should know that you and your wellbeing are very important to me,” the Doctor assured her kindly. “As is always the case with my companions. So you don’t need to make an exhibit of yourself to get my attention.”

Rose’s mouth snapped shut and something flashed in her eyes.

“Now,” the Doctor said, pleased with himself for a situation well-handled. “Shall we?”

He tugged her hand again, only to feel her fingers go limp between his. Frowning, he looked down to see that she had let go of his hand, and was withdrawing hers entirely, curling it back to the safety of her own body. When he looked up again, the expression on Rose’s face startled him.

Ah. Anger. That was definitely anger. And a lot of it.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Rose snapped. “God, you really are an alien!”

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Nothing! This—” Rose shouted as she gestured, causing several nearby dancers to jump in surprise, “—has got nothing to do with you. I just wanted to have a little fun, maybe have a drink!”

“Perhaps, but Mickey said—”

“Mickey, as you are always so eager to point out, is kind of an idiot sometimes,” Rose snapped. “The universe doesn’t always revolve around you, all right? And neither do I. Get over yourself!”

The Doctor tossed up both of his palms in an expression of surrender. “Clearly I misunderstood. I apologize.” He stepped away, shaking his head, uncertain of where he’d gone wrong.

“Unbelievable git,” he heard Rose mutter behind his back.

He stopped in his tracks. “Beg your pardon?” he asked, turning around.

Rose threw her hands in the air. “You can apologize for making a stupid assumption, but you can’t say you’re sorry for abandoning Mickey and me?”

“Abandoning? What are you talking about?”

Laughing, Rose shook her head. “Nothing,” she said. “It’s nothing! Let’s just sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. Just like we do with everything else!”

“All right,” the Doctor said, his temper rising. His hands clenched into fists, working to shut things down before he could erupt. “That’s fine with me.”

“All right, then!” Rose replied.

“Fine!” the Doctor said loudly.

“Great!” Rose added.

“Bloody marvelous!” the Doctor shouted.

The temple fell silent all around them. Even Mickey and his entourage had gone quiet, the women staring at them with open mouths and curious eyes, Mickey watching with a look of absolute glee. The Doctor fidgeted uncomfortably when he realized that they weren’t the only ones watching—all eyes had turned their way. He chanced a glance at Rose. She crossed her arms, suddenly very interested in something on the ground.

Eventually, blessedly, background noise began trickling back in, the temple refilling with the sounds of chatter and singing. Rose and the Doctor very carefully did not look at each other.

“Head on back to the TARDIS if you like,” Rose said after a moment. “I’m going to stay out for a bit.”

“Yes, I think I will. And you and Mickey are welcome to join me…” the Doctor said, gesturing halfheartedly, “…just whenever you want.”

“We will.” Rose looked up at him, fixing him with a hard stare. “And then you’re taking me home tomorrow.”

The Doctor drew in a deep breath. “If that’s what you want.”

“Seems like it’s what you want.”

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue—no, that wasn’t what he wanted, what in the galaxy would make her think that, surely she couldn’t be that stupid, surely she could see that he’d planned this whole thing just to—

He stopped himself. A petty little spark of pride had snuck up and seized his tongue, stealing his words from him.

“All right,” he said, and he started to walk away.

“Fine,” Rose replied, and she took a step too.

“Great,” the Doctor turned around to counter.

Rose whirled back around and marched right up to him. “Bloody marvelous,” she hissed in his face.

The two of them glared at each other. Both pairs of eyes narrowed.

Surprising. They could never usually hold each other’s gaze this long. But she wasn’t backing down, so neither would he.

After a moment, the Doctor was tempted to declare himself the winner of this unofficial little staring contest, because although Rose Tyler was a stubborn thing, she had developed quite the promising twitch in her cheek. But then, quite by accident, the Doctor blinked.

Rose smirked. The Doctor cursed his superior biology.

Each of them turned on their heel and stomped away.

***

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[notmanagingwithjuiliusshine-blog]

3. Las Palmas, glory, glory.

'He's gotten no better Roger, I can't ever see him getting out of this funk of his.' The sun was flooding in through the kitchen window and Valerie Shiner shuffled in her seat. 'No' She continued 'you're lucky if you see him before midday and that bloody shirt he's never out of it!' She took a drag from her menthol cigarette and shielded her eyes a little. A worn slipper hung from the point of her big toe, swinging aimlessly always on the point of falling to the floor. 'What can I do, you know he's stubborn to the point of_' She hesitated to take a another drag, the house quiet and peaceful. Ahead tiny specks of ash sparkled in the wave of sunlight and she shook her head at the state of the back garden. '_that's all well and good saying that Roger_' The phone flipped from one ear to another '_but what would he do, he's thirty three and not far off matching the same on the scales!’ She choked hard as Roger intercepted with the word FAT. 'Alright there's no need to be offensive' She hit back, a mother's love never far away. 'I've probably mothered him too much but after his dad left us what was I supposed to do.' The last of the cigarette was stubbed out with real meaning. 'No he hasn't sorted out the garden yet!' She responded sharply. 'He's said he'll get to it soon as he's finished with his latest project.' ‘Well I doubt it'll be today no, not after I found him slumped in the bathroom at three in the morning.’ She lit another cigarette and took a couple of short toaks. ‘Well the ambulance guys said he'd swallowed his tongue_’ She shook her head in weary dismay. ‘_I don't know Roger they think he probably drunk a whole bottle of port and passed out!’ 'Outrage! Utter outrage!' Julius Shiner stormed into the kitchen and headed straight for the fridge, the hem of his white triple XL Italia '90 T-shirt flailing half way up his pale blotch marked thighs, his feet scuffed along the worn tiles in his favourite football slippers. 'Where's the juice mother?' He barked angrily. Really he should have his own fridge in his room, he reconciled to himself once more. 'Mother!' His voice echoed into the vast chasm of the fridge again. 'I should have my own fridge, why won't you allow such a tiny privilege, they get better treatment-’ He tried but failed to think of a quick comparison and instead just let out an inexhaustible sigh. Searching for another cigarette from the crumpled packet on the table Valerie Shiner noticed the sunlight slip by the window and she felt cold. Julius felt slighted, as if he had time to be wasting out here! His own fridge would make this type of trip redundant, think of all the wasted scouting time! He tried to send a scouring look across at his mother but she was deep in concentration trying to fish out another cigarette with only the nails of her left hand. 'Uhhhummm' he sent out a strange coughing sound to try and get her attention. It didn't help. Lowering his huge frame he hovered in front of the fridge. The chill air began to bite at his chest and he groped a grubby paw at his becoming nipples. His eyes stung as he peered again over at his mother. She was sat at the table by the doorway, phone stuck to her ear, cord trailing from its mounting halfway down the hallway. 'Mother get off the phone and placate me!' His shrill voice, whiney even to his own ears, cut and broke like a man left with only a few precious seconds left to live. 'No it's the first I've seen of him all day.' He watched with contempt as she twirled the cord between her forefinger and thumb. ‘I told you Roger that was this morning, early, about Two or three-ish.’ 'Honestly!' He cried in frustration as he delved back into the fridge. His bulbous hands and wrists catching against the shelves as they glowed redder and redder, unaccustomed as they were to physical labour. ‘God knows what the ambulance people think of us, such a thing to see that early in the morning!’ Julius fought against the flashbacks, the flashing blue lights, the men in uniforms, the smell of urine. 'He's looking for juice' he heard her say into the telephone, followed by 'I know but you know what he's like.' 'Women will you get off that phone honestly there must be more important things that need doing?' He snapped. I bet she forgot the isotonic too, he raged inside. ‘Isotonic Lucozade Sport?' He growled in bitter resignation and waited for a reply. 'The elixir of sporting performance mother where is it?' The coldness was now reaching almost unbearable levels and his temper was growing sour by the second. 'I must have my sport tonic!' He cried out desperate now for his mother's full attention. She was still on the phone! 'Roger says it's not good to be drinking all that sugary stuff all the time. Might make you dry up inside.' 'What does bloody Roger know?' Infuriated he tried to turn his bulk to face her. 'He says you'll end up rupturing something if you're not careful.' 'Does Roger know better than John Barnes now?' 'What hunny, sorry Roger was saying something about youth delinquency and fizzy drinks.' 'John bloody Barnes mother I think you'll find he doesn't lie to kids, not like your one time favourite Jim'll fix it!' 'Oh why's he always got to bring Jim'll fix it into things Roger?' She said with a real sense of dismay turning to the table and resting on her elbows. 'He's always got to be so sarky with everything hasn't he.' Turning back to the fridge Julius cursed Rogers name under his breath. The two of them had lived happily until that infidel Roger came snaking along, now it seemed there was a block in the road at every turn. 'What the Christ on a bike is this?' He screamed, sending the contents of the top shelf flying. 'How many times mother this is not a Tesco's house!' By now he was sat squat on the floor the rolls of his stomach fat dripping towards the cold tiled floor. 'What has gotten into you lately?' He panted, grabbing the bin at the second or third clumsy attempt as he began clawing things out of the fridge and dumped them unceremoniously whilst eyeing his mother with a fierce loathsome disapproval. 'You'll have to go out and get some more!' 'He's throwing it all away, can you believe it Roger?' 'Roger! Bloody Roger!' Hitting out at the bin and then the door of the fridge Julius maneuvered his giant frame with painstaking disgrace across the floor of the kitchen. 'Give me that damn phone, I'll tell Roger what he can do with a Tesco's mango and guava smoothie!' Valerie shook her head in dismay. 'You'll never guess the state he's in.' She exasperated. 'He's sprawled out on the kitchen tiles like, like, like I don't know what' She coiled her legs up to her chest. 'What's with you Julius?' He never used to be this much trouble. Always such a sweet boy he was.' Flicking the phone cord at her thirty three year old son as he rolled from one fat laden side to another she truly wondered where she had gone so wrong. ‘Honestly Julius I can't have a phone call in peace now!’ Valerie Shiner collected up her bits from the kitchen table into a neat pile. She turned towards her son and took out another cigarette. ‘Don't look at me like that, it's because of you I'm getting through so many of these!’ ‘Weak!’ Julius shot back at her, three babybels jostling for space in his mouth. ‘I swear you're sending me to the knackers yard with all your goings on!’ Julius having pulled himself up using the sideboard pulled out a tray and began loading up more food. ‘You'll definitely have to get more food you know, the stuff you've got is utter rubbish!’ ‘It's not that simple is it Julius, that's perfectly good food and you've gone and thrown it away. Where do I get the money to buy more?’ Julius didn't have time to listen to more of his mother's excuses. 'I can't stop now mother Numancia have just offered 1.5 million for our right back and I'll be dammed to Colchester and back if I'm gonna accept such a crappy offer!' She watched him shuffle off with a packet of ham, spray cream and half a lemon meringue pie which she had been hoping to tuck into that evening in front of Eastenders. ‘Roger you still there? He thinks money just comes at the click of your fingers that boy!’ She heard him kick open the door to his bedroom. 'That'll be him holed up in that room till God knows when now' She continued. ‘I don't know he plays that bloody stupid game till all hours.’ ‘He needs a bloody good kick up the backside if you ask me.’ Roger said from the other end. 'He tells me there building a statue of him' 'Rubbish it's just a bloody game on the computer!’ I know Roger but it keeps him out of harm's way, I don't know what I'd do if I ever lost him.’ ‘He needs a large dose of reality that boy!’ ‘Roger please I know you're right_’ She felt teary again. ‘_but he's all I've got.’ ‘You're too good to him Valerie.’ ‘I think he's coming back.’ She could hear his shuffling feet coming back up the hallway. ‘Everything okay sweetie?’ 'Hang up that damn phone you gossip.' He demanded as he began rooting through the biscuit tin. 'Oh he's getting all rough and moody again, like he does.' 'When's the statue thingy being shown hunny, Roger wants to know?’ His rage for Roger was untold and if he'd had a free hand he'd have ripped the phone line from the wall. However food was vital at this important stage of negotiations. 'It will be in Spain won't it mother and as you can't be bothered to get me my own mini fridge I doubt you'll get off your fat arse and fly to Spain for the peoples great heralding of a man they've come to think of a folk hero!' 'Oh I think we'd have to go to Tenerife or something and I don't think I'd like all that heat and nakedness Roger!' 'Tenerife! Bloody Tenerife!’ Julius slammed the door to his room hard and placed the last of his supplies onto the bed. Tenerife! He shook his head and checked the screen. Still on an international break, good he should have enough time for a bit of scouting before the next set of fixtures. His glorious run as Las Palmas manager had seen the team reach unprecedented heights and now was no time to sit back and reflect on the glory. Pulling up his ‘working’ chair he wanted another look at the Norwegian leagues, there was always a bargain to be had there. Shoveling in the lemon meringue pie he meticulously searched through every club, and then every level of the national side. A young centre back called Vegard Hansen soon caught his eye and he sent the scouts out to watch him in his next couple of games. At only nineteen he was perfect for moulding into a Shiner star, the name he gave all the young players who he plucked from obscurity and turned into international stars. He had good pace and stamina states, great in the air and could pass the ball as well. Julius savoured the last of the pie and could already see young Hansen stepping out of defence with the ball and spraying wonderful forty yard passes. Without another thought he put in a one hundred and fifty thousand pound offer.