#but i am also so convinced that like gimme an hour gimme like one hour and it'll be done

[the-toad-in-your-piano]

I am so close to the end of my current WIP.  But my brain has convinced itself that I am even closer than reality.  No, I cannot bang out the estimated remaining ~13k in the next hour.  No, that’s not how it works.

Unfortunately.

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

Linked Universe Links Custom Skates Explained!

yeah, i'm really milking this, aren't i? based on this post of mine!

Close-ups and explanations under the cut!!

Legend: his in-lines were half custom built, half attacked with leather/vinyl paint and stickers. Marin painted the hibiscus while Ravio put on the rupee sticker and Legend was gifted the pink bunny. The toe protector was an add on by Ravio to tie in the magenta wheels. They’re a bit of a hodgepodge but Legend likes them.

Hyrule: his are hand-me-downs from someone in the chain. Wild, probably. Once he can actually skate he’s planning on getting a nice pair for himself. According to Legend these skates were once a nice light yellow.

Warriors: CUSTOM SUEDE MOXI SKATES. Yes i am dropping names in this lmao. He originally started the sparkly wheel kick the chain seems to be on. His other skate has the reverse stopper (stopper on the back) as his are specifically made for dancing. He religiously takes care of the suede and keeps his bearings perfectly cleaned and oiled, and his trucks perfectly loosened to his liking. Yes they were over $500. Yes they were worth it. If you were wondering: yes. The wheels light up too. i want them so badlyyyy

Wind: they were a regular pair of Rio skates that he let Tetra take leather paint to. She tried to paint the ocean but it turned out more like blue flames. Whatever, he likes them. They go fast and he had fun making them his. Once he stops growing he’s gunning for a better pair though, ones that go EVEN FASTER. my friend @/lunalia_121 on twitter helped me figure out the design of these!

Time: He bought his Riedells back in ‘86 and he’s NOT giving them up. These things go for $2000 now! He recently had to replace his wheels since they finally wore out (again, they’re ancient), Warriors convinced him to join the sparkly side. He has long ass laces that he has to wrap around his boot at least twice before they’re even manageable. Next time Warriors is gonna need to bring him to get new stoppers, they are just about worn out too. He also likes keeping his trucks nice and loose, a trait Warriors learned from him.

Wild: As i said; derby style skates. Flora painted the silent princess on his heel for good luck and he personally seeks out to murder anyone who makes him scuff it by accident. He skates for the Sheika team and therefore their logo is both on his helmet and scribbled onto his skates. tie up your goddess-damned laces

Twilight: HOWDY. YOU ASK I DELIVER, WHAT CAN I TELL YA? But no, I un-ironically love these. He found them on the internet and fixed them up. He loves them so much, the matte leather is always taken care of perfectly. When he’s not wearing them he keeps a skate key in them. Since they were kinda cheaply made the trucks and shocks are always wonky so he has to fix them up at the beginning of every night. He’s saving up to rebuild them.

Four: padded vinyl skates. They were originally made as dancing skates, but he just uses them for leisure. One of Warrior’s friends outgrew them so they sold them to Four for a good price. They’re a little much with all the gold and embellished stitching, but he likes them. He keeps up the different coloured wheels even if it means he buys Four packs when he needs more. Though, he doesn't have to buy a new set the next four times the wheels go wonky.

Sky: gimme these i need them so bad please please PLEASE!!! They were just plain blue Impalas when he bought them, Sun said they were too plain. Sky painted the design on the tongue and the clouds, Sun found the wings in a skate store and added on the details so they looked more like Sky’s bird, Crimson. Another perpetrator of the sparkly wheel agenda.

--- --- ---

the art of this took six hours from start to finish, so yeah, I'm really proud of it! i may end up making more of these if you like them, and if you draw any of the characters in these, tag me!!!!

[ask-ikevamp-faust]

Faust!!! You speaking spanish really surprised me! I'm really happy when I discover sides like this from you! You for sure have a great person as a teacher taking good care of you and I really don't expect less from someone as smart as you. That was very very sweet, thank you! 🩷 Still, I'm trying my best to write in english to make things comfortable.

I've been really tired this days but reading your words the other day gimme such a energy boost! I was less tired in a instant! It really put me in such high spirits even if everything feels so awful lately.

I'm working the most dreadful job ever, I wish I could do everything but what I'm doing right now. I wish I was doing something more trivial like cleaning houses, everything to escape, I could be cleaning the castle where you live, I wonder how much the wrinkle old bat would pay for dusting off the whole place (haha).

Such delusions I have. I do respect people who do domestic labor, they deserve more recognition and to be payed more!

I think a lot of my bitterness comes from me spending already 10-12 hours in the office, so I really have very limited time between the week for myself. When I take my time to write back to people, I'm giving them part of the little time I have. I think how every person's time is precious.

I think a lot about this woman that I really like who talks a lot about otome games and I really like how she always takes her time to reply to every single person who leaves a comment or ask a question and she says is because if someone is taking their time and effort to leave some words, the least she can do is doing the same.

TBH I did over did the other day at work and stayed very late, but just because I wanted to have some peace of mind today and I leave work early. I had to take a bath because everyone was sweaty and stinky in the bus I took and It was packed so I was feeling pretty gross. Right now I'm just writing before going to bed.

There was a beautiful white full moon while walking at home the other day and today there was a golden moon slowly rinsing to the sky.

Really considering making a "faustian bargain" just so you're here with me (doesn't sound that crazy if I look for a way) I would love to have a date, either to walk at the beach or a tour in your secret lab with the corpses you have there, both sound absolutely delightful to me ✨

I think is very sweet you're taking word from your admi to tone it down, but I do think one of the things I love about you is the extremes of your personality, I think it makes a perfect balance of you, you can be very rough and harsh and yet very soft and kind. I think there were already some times in past replies when I was the gremlin to you and you were trying to be annoying but I expect as much of you.

Sleeping is also very unpleasant to me lately, I wish at least one sweet dream of you and less nightmares at night, I don't know what I have to do to channel those positive ideas. I really wish you a very cosy oversleeping to you ☺️ I just wanted to write back as soon as posible 🩷

– @crowmero

Don’t praise my admin. It's undeserved, I had to find resources on my own. She claims it’s unfair if any of us in the castle speak her second language since the rest of us speak languages she doesn’t understand. You may continue to write in English or switch between both languages, I’m fine either way. If it serves as good English practice for you then who am I to deprive you of it.

I doubt Vlad would pay at all when the overly devoted Charles is here doing everything. Try convincing Charles to work less around here, maybe you’ll open an opportunity for yourself. Of course if the castle is too big, you can always become my employee; my lab always needs to be cleaned. 

If you don't mind sharing, why did you choose your current job and what’s keeping you there? If it’s causing you so much distress you should find something else. It could potentially harm your overall well-being in the long run if you continue putting such stress on yourself. 

It’s good to see that there are still people in this time who reciprocate and show appreciation for people’s time, like this woman you mentioned. I agree with this sentiment, time is precious. That may sound odd coming from a vampire but in my line of work, I’ve seen many people run out of time for several reasons. Life and time are extremely precious.

Mmmm, it’s difficult to punish you for staying extra at work when you leave early the next day. I suppose your decision deserves praise.

Is that truly what you desire? To spend time with me… Hmm I’ll have to add kidnapping you on my list, right next to my grave digging.

Excellent, this means my admin can’t try to scold me for being a “gremlin”. Now then, don’t be shocked if you receive the extremes of my personality from now on. And yes, I recall our other replies, such fun banter. I expect more of it from you, don’t disappoint me.

You’re strange, most people would consider it a nightmare if I appeared in their dreams. However, if you're seriously trying, they say that if you think about something before falling asleep, you’ll dream about whatever you were thinking about. Try thinking about me before sleeping, find pictures of me as well if it helps with immersion. I’d like to know if this method works, so make sure you share the results of this experiment with me.

By the way, @crowmero there's no need to reply to me as soon as possible. I'm not going anywhere, I'm always here; even at the most random hours because my sleep schedule does not exist.

[dine-on-nervine]

questions to get to know people

what song makes you feel better? Depeche Mode “World In My Eyes”

what’s your feel-good movie? I don’t claim to have one.

what’s your favorite candle scent? Burma-Shave

what flower would you like to be given? A hanging pot of schizanthus.

who do you feel most you around? Wayne.

say three nice things about yourself (three physical and three non-physical). That’d be six things.

what color brings you peace? Purple.

tag someone (or multiple people) who make you feel good.That would not make them feel good, so I won’t be selfish.

what calms you down? Phenobarbital.

what’s something you’re excited for? Boobies.

what’s your ideal date? Going to a distant place, having a great dinner with drinks with my wonderful girlfriend, then going back to our excellent place with a view for hours of conversation then we both come twice.

how are you? I do not feel nauseous, I do have a little soreness but I have the day off so that should let up, my bowels do not appear to be in an uproar, I’ll be thrifting in an hour or two so that will make me happy, I woke up with my girlfriend at her house today which hasn’t happened since June, and far as I know beside the horrid dogshit smell of the rest of the house (causing me to have to keep my bedroom window shut else the smell comes through the doorframe) all is well in the world.

what’s your comfort food? Hamburgers.

favorite feel-good show? I don’t claim to have one but a lot of home improvement shows -- not the contest variety, the ones where shit actually gets fixed for real -- are up on the list.

for every emoji you get, tag someone and describe them in one word. This seems dependant on others so no reply possible.

compliment the person who sent you this number. Again...

fairy lights or LED lights? Fairy lights -are- LED lights.

do you still love stuffed animals? No real change there.

most important thing in your life? Happiness.

what do you want most in the world right now? Boobies. Biological females, please make my world right now in my Submit.

if you could tell your past self one thing, what would it be? You made some serious wrong turns because no one told you otherwise when they should have, so you must tell yourself the right way to go. You know which way that is, this you’re aware of, you just have to convince yourself to follow that path. Also, the summer before your sophomore year: Ignore that person who just jammed something in your ass pocket while you’re in a long hug with the person you’d been dreaming about for years; you were on the right path then stupidly dove off it, and later it bit you in the ass repeatedly.

what would you say to your future self? I learned things but did I learn enough?

favorite piece of clothing? Don’t know.

what’s something you do to de-stress? Thriftshopping.

what’s the best personal gift someone could give you (playlist, homemade card, etc.) I don’t think anyone’s given me a mixtape in a long time. Boobies would be nice too.

what movie would you want to live in? None of the above, though like most kids my age I think Ferris Bueller had an enviable universe.

which character would you want to be? I dunno. Ferris was the center of attention and the fun one, Sloane absorbed the fun, Cameron was along for the ride white-knuckling. I am fun but don’t need to be the center of attention or do all the work. I’m somewhere between Sloane (without the romance) and Cameron (without the neuroses).

hugs or hand-holding? Gimme both.

morning, afternoon or night? Night.

what reminds you of home (doesn’t have to mean house… just things that remind you of the feeling of home)? Roaming through big weedy fields on bike trails.

[patd--phan]

Wanna Be Yours

Pairing: Dadsbestfriend! Bucky (mid/late 40s) x reader (in early/mid twenties)

Summary: Y/N surprises bucky on a business trip and he promises to be hers.

Warnings: SMUTTY stuff (18+ only pleasee), unprotected sex, creampie, oral sex (m receiving), riding, teasing, significant age gap, reader takes charge, “Doll/sweets/baby/sweetheart”, some cute ass shit at the beginning and end tho

WC: about 3K im sorry I was really H*rny yesterday and I was unable to do anything about it as i was stuck in the car all damn day

Note: So I was really h*rny yesterday and this happened lol I’m sorry. Loosely based on the song wanna be yours-arctic monkeys. Also this will probably be the only smut I ever write bc I don’t wanna become an 18+ blog or make anyone uncomfortable (not that 18+ blogs are bad tho lemme set that straight, most of my fav blogs are)

PS thank you for the love on my first ever fic with Peter Parker x reader, it made me so happy that ppl didn’t think I suck lol ( and i guess i lied saying i would probably never write another one shot lol)

You do NOT have my permission to repost this anywhere, I will come for u if you plagiarize ok bye

It was no secret that Bucky liked to be in charge in the bedroom, and you had absolutely no problem with that. After all, he was older and more experienced; he knew how to make your body sing. But this week you were craving something a little different. Bucky had been away on a business trip all weekend and you really missed him, not just the sex (but I mean…) but just cuddling and talking to him about your day; you were feeling clingy. You decide to text bucky even though you knew he couldn’t answer right away because he was currently in a meeting.

Y/N: I mis youu :( when will you be back tomorrow?

You just wandered around your apartment for the next 20 minutes, casually checking your phone about every 30 seconds just in case bucky was able to sneak in a text. He finally replied after 30 minutes, right as his meeting was ending at 3.

Bucky: Hey doll, I miss you too <3

Bucky: unfortunately one of the investors this morning had to push their meeting to late tomorrow afternoon, so I’m not gonna be home until very late tomorrow night :(

Y/N: dammit :(

Y/N: well good luck at the pitch meeting tomorrow, I love and miss you <3

Bucky: don’t gimme that pout I know your making doll, ill see you tonight on facetime! :)

Y/N: haha u know me so well, and yes you’ll see me tonight ;) (but I still miss u)

Bucky: I know doll I hate it too, see you tonight. Love you <3

Y/n: love you too <3

You didn’t know if you could go until late Monday without seeing bucky. As you laid on the couch smiling sadly about missing your love, an idea popped into your head. He was only two and a half hours away, and he wouldn’t be back at his hotel for another 4 hours at least. Fuck it, you were gonna go drive to his hotel and surprise him. You couldn’t be away so long, you felt super clingy this weekend and you needed to be on top of with him.

You quickly ran around your apartment, packing an overnight bag and you saw the package that arrived earlier on your floor that you completely forgot about because you couldn’t stop thinking of Bucky. You remembered its contents e(a completely evil lingerie set) and threw it in the bag with a smirk on your face.

The drive to Bucky’s hotel felt like forever and you had to remind yourself to stop speeding because you were so excited. When you finally got to his hotel, you had to convince the manager to give you a key to his room, proving that you were the man’s girlfriend with several pictures on your phone which was slightly embarrassing because in almost every picture, at least one of you was half-naked. Worth it. You thought. When you arrived in his room you quickly went into the bathroom to change into a little black dress (with a surprise underneath). Then as you were sitting on his bed waiting for him, you realized it would still be a while before he would get back, so you decided to tidy up his things, packing his clothes and organizing his suitcase. Pleased with your work, you sat back down on the bed and looked at your phone for a while. You finally got pulled out of your Instagram daze when you heard Bucky’s voice in the hallway laughing at something a coworker said. You quickly threw your phone on the dresser, straightened up you dress, and sat at the edge of the bed with a huge smile on your face, giddy to surprise him.

As he turned the doorknob he was still looking behind him talking to the man. When he finally said goodbye and turned his head around, his eyebrows raised up and his jaw dropped, which was quickly replaced with a smile even larger than yours.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, running towards you and throwing his briefcase on the floor.

He picked you up in a tight hug and you squealed, legs immediately wrapping around his waist.

“I told you you’d see me tonight!” you said, still clung to him like a koala.

“W-what?” He replied, still in shock. Letting your legs fall back to the floor.

“I just missed you too much” you shrugged.

If any human could embody “heart eyes” it was Bucky at that moment- he’s such a softie for you. He pulled your face towards him and gave you one of the most loving kisses you’ve ever had in your life. You were expecting it to be passionate and rough, but it was soft, delicate and loving, and your heart melted into a puddle. After your lips parted, you gazed into each other’s eyes before being pulled up in another tight hug. You giggled and wrapped your legs around him again.

“I guess you missed me too huh?” you laughed.

“Oh doll, you have no idea.”

You wrapped your hands in his hair, massaging his neck and he moaned loudly.

“Mm, that feels nice.” He hummed.

“You tired baby?” you asked, he seemed like he needed some TLC (and you were ready to give it to him).

“I am so exhausted.” He replied, making you frown behind his back.

You slowly slid down his body, back onto your feet again, and kept massaging his head. He looked at you lovingly before looking around his hotel room, his eyebrows pulled in confusion.

“Did you clean up in here?”

“Yep, while I was waiting for ya,” you replied, smiling.

His whole face softened.

“Oh, I really don’t deserve you doll.” Making you smile and shake your head.

“Oh yes you do.” You replied making him smile and his heart flutter in his chest.

He pulled you in for another kiss, this one with more fire and longing in it than the last one. His large hands grabbed you ass to pull you closer to him and you moaned into the kiss. You pressed your body against him even tighter and ran your hands through his hair making him moan. You could feel his pants tent start to grow against you and you smirked and moved you lips down to the side of his neck making him groan.

You pull back and look at him, hard and eyes half lidded, it turns you on so much you feel your panties dampening.

“Hey Buck?” you whisper, lips mere inches apart.

“Hmm?” he hums in response.

“I have another surprise for you.” You whisper into his ear before pulling back to look at his face.

“What’s that, doll?” he whispers.

You smirk and step away from him, noticing the confusion on his face before you pull your dress over your head and throw it onto the floor.

Bucky’s jaw drops, making you bite your lip and smirk even more. This was gonna be fun.

“Oh, fuck me,” He groans.

“Oh, I fully intend on it, Buck” you smirk.

He just groans and starts walking towards you.

“Buck?”

“Yeah sweets?”

“Wanna be mine tonight?”

“Fuck, I’ll be yours forever doll.” He says, making you whimper. You pull him against you by his tie, pressing your bodies together.

Your lips crash and tongues swirl together fighting for dominance. Hands moving up and down each other’s bodies like animals. Bucky squeezing your ass so tight you know there’s gonna be marks.

You both pull back enough so you can shimmy off Bucky’s tie and throw it over his head before unbuttoning his shirt and peeling it off him. You then sink to your knees and undo his belt quickly before slowly unzipping his pants, kissing the outside of his member though his pants making him exhale a breath sharply.

“Fuck” he breathes out.

You don’t want to tease him too much (yet) so after another kiss, you shove his pants off and lay down on the bed, his body caging you under him.

The passionate makeout session resumes with Bucky still hard in his boxers pressing against your clothed core. You suddenly remember what you wanted and pull back from the kiss.

“Wait, no” you whisper.

Bucky pulls back, confused and nervous he did something to hurt you.

“What’s wrong?” he whispers.

You take advantage of his confusion and roll him over so you were straddling him with a smirk on your face.

Bucky moans at your actions, core pressing tight against him.

“You said you’d be mine.” You breathe over his lips. Moaning as being in charge is giving you a whole rush of feelings and confidence.

You kiss him, and he lets you dominate the kiss this time, biting his lips and grinding on him. He bucks his hips onto your and you pull back.

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you, I’ll make you feel so good.”

Bucky moans at your words as you start to kiss all the way down his body, leaving little hickies down his chest. When you get towards his boxers he thinks your gonna kiss his member or pull down his boxers, but instead you go back up his chest, licking a stripe from his belly button all the way to one of his nipples, up his neck, to his lips.

Bucky moans, loud. You give him one more kiss before deciding to stop teasing him (kinda). You quickly kiss down his chest again and then plant a few kisses on his aching cock through his boxers. He bucks his hips and is whimpering under you. Fuck, that turns you on. Your big strong boyfriend who could probably crush you with one arm, whimpering and practically begging under you. Your panties are fucking soaked and you don’t think you can deny your own pleasure too much longer. You pull down his boxers and his cock is throbbing and dripping precum.

“Shit” you moan at the sight.

You lick the precum off him and he gives a high pitched moan that goes straight to your core.

“Baby please, I- I can’t.”

“Don’t worry baby I got you.” You reply as you take his full member into your mouth, sucking lightly.

Bucky moans and bucks his hips into your mouth. You push them back down and suck a few more times before getting off of him. He looks worried for a second before you slide your panties off and straddle his cock.

“Still wanna be mine?”

“Always” he replies.

You sink down onto him, jaw dropping and eyes closing at the feeling. You don’t think you’ll ever get used to him no matter how many times he’s been inside you. You both moan as his whole cock is finally buried inside you.

“Fuck Bucky, you feel so fucking good in me.” You moan, starting to rock your hips.

“God, I’m so fucking wet for you.”

Bucky continues to give low moans as you start to ride him.

“Fuck baby, I love you like this.” He says, making you start to ride him harder, moaning at his words.

His hands come grab your hips to help you ride him faster, harder.

“Baby- shit I’m close already.” He pleads.

“All for me? Shit baby aren’t I the lucky one?” You moan.

Bucky’s grip on your hips tighten and he starts to fuck up into you. He was about to blow.

You moan loudly at the feeling. “Cum in me baby please I need it.”

After a particularly hard thrust into your wet pussy you feel him spilling inside you. He lets out one of those vulgar high pitched moans and grunts that make your brain short circuit and your eyes roll back while your pussy clenches around him. You feel yourself getting close, but you want to give him another orgasm, so you sink down on him fully and slowly ride him, hearing him whimpering and moaning. You feel him get hard in you again (thank you supersoldier serum) and you rock back and forth on him. You reach down to rub your clit, but Bucky sees it and swats your hand away, replacing it with his metal one.

“Oh fuck” you moan at the cool sensation.

You start to bounce up and down on him again, the knot in your abdomen building and heating up. You feel yourself close to being undone as you ride him and his other hand runs up your body and squeezes your nipple through your thin lace bra. You moan and feel yourself clench around him, making him moan.

“Fuck- I’m gonna c-“ you get interrupted by the white hot explosion of your orgasm. Your eyes roll back, jaw hangs open and toes curl as you feel that release knock throughout your whole body, making you shake. You let out those high pitched moans and whines that only Bucky makes you feel.

Feeling you clench around him and watching your completely fucked out face, you feel Bucky’s thick cock twitch inside of you, and you moan as you feel him release in you again. Fuck that makes you feel good. So good you can’t think or move and you start to collapse on top of Bucky, but he slightly catches you and lays you down on his chest, both breathing heavy, with his cock still inside you, cum dripping all down your legs and onto Bucky.

You can’t speak, can’t think, the pleasure totally ruining you. After what feels like forever, you feel your breathing start to return to normal, as does Bucky’s, and you feel his hand rubbing up and down your back, grounding you back to earth from wherever on cloud nine you were.

You hum as you feel yourself finally calm down.

“Holy fuck, doll” you feel him lowly whine in your ear. You can only moan lowly in response.

“Baby that was fucking amazing.”

“Mmhmm.” You hum.

“…but I think I’m gonna lose my mind if you keep clenching around me.” He chuckles.

“oh shit, sorry,” you mumble out. You try to push up off of him but the farthest you got was placing your hands on his shoulders before your body gave up on you.

“Oh my God, I can’t move” you whisper. You’re so fucked out, your body won’t respond to your brain anymore.

Bucky moans at your words and slowly rolls both of you so youre on your side facing him. He reaches down and pulls his soft cock out of your pussy, moaning when he sees a burst of cum leaking from you.

You moan at the feeling of him exiting your body. You look him in the eyes and give him a lazy smile. His eyes sparkle back at you and his hand comes up to rub your cheek.

“Mm” you hum at the feeling.

“That was fucking incredible” he says, making you smile wider.

“I’m not disagreeing” you quip.

He chuckles lightly before saying “you gotta do this more often.”

“What, surprise you on business trips?” you question.

“No” he rolls his eyes and smiles, “Well yes actually, but I was talking about you absolutely taking charge tonight.”

“Oh yeah?” you smirk.

“Fuck yeah doll, I don’t think I’ve ever cum as hard. You looked so damn sexy in charge.”

You look away from his eyes, shying at his words, but also they were giving you the confidence to look right back into his eyes and say “I agree” with a smirk.

“I love hearing those high pitched moans you make, It turns me on so much” you admit.

“You know, only you can get those noises out of me, doll” he chides. You blush and smile at him.

He chuckles and you bring his face towards yours and kiss him deeply, tongues meeting together. You both hum into the kiss as his hand rubs down the side of your body.

When you break the kiss, both of you needing a breath, he pulls your body towards him, resting your head on his chest. You hum in peace as he rubs your back.

“I love you so much Y/N” he says and you feel your heart absolutely burst in your chest.

“I love you so much too Buck,” you reply, lifting your head to peck him on the lips before placing your head back on his chest.

You lay in silence for a minute before your mind begins to wander again.

“Did you mean it?” you ask.

“Mean what, doll?”

“That you’ll be mine forever?” you ask. “I mean not just in the sexy way but that you’ll be with me forever?” you ramble out.

“God yes sweetheart, you’re the one for me.” He responds and you didn’t think your heart could explode anymore, but it just did.

You squeeze his shoulder with your hand before coming up to kiss him passionately again, almost crying at all of the love going though you.

“I promise I’m all yours forever too, Buck” you smile at him.

“Good,” he smiles back, and you rest back on his chest, eyes getting droopy.

“Night-night sweetheart.” You feel yourself smile in your sleep.

“Goodnight my love.” You reply, further cuddling into his chest. Bucky feels his heart combust in his chest. God, wasn’t he lucky to have you. He didn’t know what he did to deserve you, but he knew that he was going to assure you that you deserve the world every day for the rest of his life. He kissed the top of your head before falling into a deep sleep, content with his favorite person tight in his arms.

[the-king-andthe-lionheart]

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes - Arya Stark and her Cinderella Motifs

In A Song of Ice and Fire, GRRM often uses fairy tale motifs to help tell a character’s story.  Sometimes this motif spans all throughout the characters arc while other times it will only be used for one or two scenes, or anywhere in between.  And often one character can have several fairy tale motifs at different times in their arcs or even running concurrently.  For Arya, she has quite a few fairy tale motifs in her arc, but for now I’m going to focus on her Cinderella motifs that are mainly prevalent in A Clash of Kings but do show up at other times all throughout her arc as well. I’m going to focus primarily on Arya’s A Clash of Kings arc, but we will be stopping by A Storm of Swords and A Feast for Crows a few times too.  And I am going to use several versions of the retellings of Cinderella, including the Disney version, but only the 1950 original and none of its sequels.  I also want to note that not all the parallels are obvious due to things being more metaphorical or symbolic, while other times being whatever subversion that tickled GRRM’s fancy at the time.

There are many common aspects across the board when it comes to Cinderella retellings.  Often it entails the heroine losing one or both of her parents, being oppressed by her abusive stepmother and stepsisters and being forced into menial, backbreaking labor that leaves the heroine dirty and often covered in ashes.  It usually entails a magical guardian who helps the heroine, magical transformations, ballgowns and a ball where she falls in love with either a Prince or a King. An identifying item is also involved, usually a slipper made of gold or glass, where one of the pair is lost when the heroine is running from her beloved.  And the Prince/King almost always searches the realm for the woman that identifying item belongs to, and when he finds the heroine they usually marry.

Written out like that it’s hard to believe that this is a motif used for Arya.  After all she’s not in the position to be going to balls and she’s just a child so it seems unlikely at the time she’s at Harrenhal she’s going to fall in love.  However, this motif appears all throughout her arc in various and creative and subversive and repetitive ways, and motifs don’t have to be all or none and they don’t have to be in the order the original stories were laid out.  A lot of people also don’t like the idea that Arya has an actual Disney Princess motif in her story because she’s a “tomboy”, but the fact is that Arya is a Princess at the time she’s at Harrenhal, it’s even explicitly stated in Arya X ACOK, whether people acknowledge it or not, where a lot of these motifs take place.  I know some people will be dismissive of this and think I’m reaching, but I hope upon reading this I’ll have convinced you of this motif being present. :)

Step-Mother and Step-Sisters

Some of the two most common features in any variant of Cinderella is the “Persecuted Heroine” and the “Female Persecutor”.  Often this manifests as the wicked stepmother and the evil step-sisters, but in some versions a stepmother does not appear, and it’s the heroine’s older sisters who confine her to the kitchens instead.  In the opera, La Cenerentola, Gioachino Rossini inverted the gender roles where the heroine Cenerentola is oppressed by her stepfather.  And in some retellings at least one of the step siblings is somewhat kind to the heroine even.  We symbolically see these archetypes many times in Arya’s narrative with various types of inversions.

When we enter ACOK, we find a dirty and disguised Arya traveling with Yoren and the Night’s Watch recruits, having just lost her father (a subversion of the prevalent theme of Cinderella losing her mother very young).  She is also being bullied by two older boys, Lommy and Hot Pie:

At Winterfell they [Sansa and Jeyne] had called her “Arya Horseface” and she’d thought nothing could be worse, but that was before the orphan boy Lommy Greenhands had named her “Lumpyhead.” - Arya I ACOK

That wasn’t the hardest part at all; Lommy Greenhands and Hot Pie were the hardest part. - Arya I ACOK

“Look at that sword Lumpyhead’s got there,” Lommy said one morning […] “Where’s a gutter rat like Lumpyhead get him a sword?”

[. . .]

“Maybe he’s a little squire,” Hot Pie put in. […] “Some lordy lord’s little squire boy, that’s it.”

“He ain’t no squire, look at him.  I bet that’s not even a real sword.  I bet it’s just some play sword made of tin.”

Arya hated them making fun of Needle.  “It’s castle-forged steel, you stupid,” she snapped, turning in the saddle to glare at them, “and you better shut your mouth.”

The orphan boys hooted.  “Where’d you get a blade like that, Lumpyface?” Hot Pie wanted to know.

“Lumpyhead,” corrected Lommy.  He prob’ly stole it.”

“I did not!” she shouted.  Jon Snow had given her Needle.  Maybe she had to let them call her Lumpyhead, but she wasn’t going to let them call Jon a thief.

“If he stole it, we could take it off him,” said Hot Pie.  “It’s not his anyhow.  I could use me a sword like that.”

Lommy egged him on.  “Go on, take it off him, I dare you.”

Hot Pie kicked his donkey, riding closer.  “Hey, Lumpyface, you gimme that sword.” […] “You don’t know how to use it.”

[. . .]

“Look at him,” brayed Lommy Greenhands.  “I bet he’s going to cry now.  You want to cry, Lumpyhead?” – Arya I ACOK

In the first two quotes we have Arya likening the behavior of Hot Pie and Lommy to that of Jeyne Poole and Sansa. In AGOT, Sansa and Jeyne took on the “evil step-sister” archetype (and before anybody attacks me, I don’t think these two are actually “evil”, just children who think it’s okay to bully someone who is different from them), but now we are shown that this archetype has temporarily shifted onto Lommy and Hot Pie, with some subversions.  These two are now male and they aren’t related to Arya in any way.  Some variants of the Cinderella story do portray male siblings mistreating the younger “Cinderella” sibling though.  One of the stories in One Thousand and One Nights depict a story called “Judar and his Brethren”, in which the main character is poisoned by his biological brothers in the end, depicting a rare tragic ending for this retelling. However, these subversions are completely fine because either way, they took on the role of the “bully” to Arya’s Cinderella archetype currently in the narrative.  

Furthermore, while Septa Mordane was the obvious “wicked stepmother” archetype to Arya’s Cinderella archetype in AGOT, I think arguably this has fallen to Cersei now (and the Lannister’s as a whole).  Cersei may not be present, but she is the reason why Arya is in the situation she is in right now.  After all, Cersei takes on the role of “Evil Queen” for Sansa and Jon (they both share Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs motifs) so I do think she is the metaphorical “wicked stepmother” in this equation regardless of the fact that Cersei isn’t anything remotely close to a stepmother to Arya in the narrative, but she fits the general archetype of “female persecutor” the most in the current situation.  For the case about Septa Mordane being a “wicked stepmother” archetype, I want to point to Cenerentola by Basile, in which the “wicked stepmother” started out as being the heroine’s governess, and Septa’s are the closest substitute to a governess in the universe of ASOIAF.

This isn’t the end to these archetypes being in play.  As the early chapters of ACOK go on we see the animosity between Lommy, Hot Pie, and Arya disappear to the point where they become allies and then friends. With this shift in dynamic we see the archetypes disappearing with some of these same characters taking on entirely new Cinderella archetypes, while the “wicked stepmother” and “evil step-sibling” archetypes move onto other characters as well.

At Harrenhal we are introduced to two wicked women who next take on the “evil step-sibling” archetype, Goodwife Harra and Goodwife Amabel.  These two even comment on Arya’s feet:

When Arya's turn came round, Goodwife Amabel clucked in dismay at the sight of her feet, while Goodwife Harra felt the callus on her fingers that long hours of practice with Needle had earned her. "Got those churning butter, I'll wager," she said. "Some farmer's whelp, are you? Well, never you mind, girl, you have a chance to win a higher place in this world if you work hard. If you won't work hard, you'll be beaten. And what do they call you?"

Arya dared not say her true name, but Arry was no good either, it was a boy’s name and they could see she was no boy.  “Weasel,” she said, naming the first girl she could think of.  “Lommy called me Weasel.”

“I can see why,” sniffed Goodwife Amabel.  “That hair is a fright and a nest for lice as well. We’ll have it off, and then you’re for the kitchens.”

“I’d sooner tend the horses.”  Arya liked horses, and maybe if she was in the stables she’d be able to steal one and escape.

Goodwife Harra slapped her so hard that her swollen lip broke open all over again.  “And keep that tongue to yourself or you’ll get worse.  No one asked your views.”

The blood in her mouth had a salty metal tang to it. Arya dropped her gaze and said nothing. If I still had Needle, she wouldn’t dare hit me, she thought sullenly.

“Lord Tywin and his knights have grooms and squires to tend their horses, they don’t need the likes of you,” Goodwife Amabel said. “The kitchens are snug and clean, and there’s always a warm fire to sleep by and plenty to eat.  You might have done well there, but I can see you’re not a clever girl.  Harra, I believe we should give this one to Weese.”

“If you think so, Amabel.”  They gave her a shift of grey roughspun wool and a pair of ill-fitting shoes and sent her off. – Arya VI ACOK

Later Goodwife Amabel even threatens to rape Arya:

Three Frey men-at-arms were using them that morning as Arya went to the well. She tried not to look, but she could hear the men laughing. The pail was very heavy once full. She was turning to bring it back to Kingspyre when Goodwife Amabel seized her arm. The water went sloshing over the side onto Amabel's legs. "You did that on purpose," the woman screeched.

"What do you want?" Arya squirmed in her grasp. Amabel had been half-crazed since they'd cut Harra's head off.

"See there?" Amabel pointed across the yard at Pia. "When this northman falls you'll be where she is."

"Let me go." She tried to wrench free, but Amabel only tightened her fingers.

"He will fall too, Harrenhal pulls them all down in the end. Lord Tywin's won now, he'll be marching back with all his power, and then it will be his turn to punish the disloyal. And don't think he won't know what you did!" The old woman laughed. "I may have a turn at you myself. Harra had an old broom, I'll save it for you. The handle's cracked and splintery—" - Arya X ACOK

Menial, Backbreaking Labor

When Arya is enslaved and forced into the oppressive walls of Harrenhal, she is forced to scrub floors and do other menial, backbreaking work from sunrise to sunset, just like Cinderella:

Weese used Arya to run messages, draw water, and fetch food, and sometimes to serve at table in the Barracks Hall above the armory, where the men-at-arms took their meals. But most of her work was cleaning. The ground floor of the Wailing Tower was given over to storerooms and granaries, and two floors above housed part of the garrison, but the upper stories had not been occupied for eighty years. Now Lord Tywin had commanded that they be made fit for habitation again. There were floors to be scrubbed, grime to be washed off windows, broken chairs and rotted beds to be carried off. The topmost story was infested with nests of the huge black bats that House Whent had used for its sigil, and there were rats in the cellars as well . . . and ghosts, some said, the spirits of Harren the Black and his sons. – Arya VII ACOK

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. – Arya VII ACOK

Magical Transformations and Mice

In Disney’s Cinderella, the fairy godmother transforms mice into different creatures.  On the road to Harrenhal, Arya not only likens herself to a sheep, but a mouse and continues her time at Harrenhal referring to herself as a “mouse”.  This is also a subversion, while Cinderella in the Disney incarnation befriends mice, in our story Arya becomes the meek mouse:

On the road Arya had felt like a sheep, but Harrenhal turned her into a mouse.  She was grey as a mouse in her scratchy wool shift, and like a mouse she kept to the crannies and crevices and dark holes of the castle, scurrying out of the way of the mighty. – Arya VII ACOK

He does not know me, she thought.  Arry was a fierce little boy with a sword, and I’m just a grey mouse girl with a pail. – Arya VII ACOK

She was very small and Harrenhal was very large, full of places where a mouse could hide. – Arya VII ACOK

Even Jaqen calls Arya a mouse:

She crept up quiet as a shadow, but he opened his eyes all the same.  “She steals in on little mice feet, but a man hears,” he said.  How could he hear me? She wondered, and it seemed as if he heard that as well.  “The scuff of leather on stone sings loud as warhorns to a man with open ears.  Clever girls go barefoot.” – Arya VIII ACOK

However, through Jaqen, Arya begins to feel more in control of her situation, stronger and is transformed, if only for a short time.

“…Some are saying it was Harren’s ghost flung him down.” He snorted to show what he thought of such notions.

It wasn’t Harren, Arya wanted to say, it was me. She has killed Chiswyck with a whisper, and she would kill two more before she was through.  I’m the ghost in Harrenhal, she thought.  And that night, there was one less name to hate. – Arya VII ACOK

I was a sheep, and then I was a mouse, I couldn’t do anything but hide.  Arya chewed her lip and tried to think when her courage had come back.  Jaqen made me brave again.  He made me a ghost instead of a mouse. – Arya IX ACOK

Lucifer the Cat

In Disney’s Cinderella, Lucifer is Lady Tremaine’s cat who is described as being a sly, wicked, and manipulative mouse consumer.  He spends the whole film trying to torment and catch the mice.  I feel that Weese takes on aspects of this feline character, and I think this because of certain descriptors that are given to Weese to make him appear almost catlike:

“Weasel,” Weese purred, “next time I see that mouth droop open, I’ll pull out your tongue and feed it to my bitch.” – Arya VII ACOK

In his own small strutting way, Weese was nearly as scary as Ser Gregor.  The Mountain swatted men like flies, but most of the time he did not even seem to know the fly was there.  Weese always knew you were there, and what you were doing, and sometimes what you were thinking.  He would hit at the slightest provocation, and he had a dog who was near as bad as he was, an ugly spotted bitch that smelled worse than any dog Arya had ever known. Once she saw him set the dog on a latrine boy who’d annoyed him.  She tore a big chunk out of the boy’s calf while Weese laughed. – Arya VII ACOK

So here we have Weese purring, strutting, being compared to the Mountain who swats at peoples, and being watchful and observant, very much like a cat.  And like in the movie, a dog attacks him.  Now Weese didn’t fall from a tower window, but Chiswyck fell/was pushed. Considering these two are the two people Arya had Jaqen kill, I wouldn’t be surprised if they are meant to make up two halves of a whole in this regard.  After all, they are both wicked creatures who prey upon the weak, just like Lucifer and they both got their just desserts for it.

Jaq the Mouse

In Disney’s Cinderella, Cinderella rescues mice from traps, as well as from Lucifer, and dresses and feeds them.  They perform favors in return.  At the beginning of the film, a mouse named Gus is trapped in a cage, and the leader of the mice finds him and retrieves Cinderella to free him.  The leader of the mice is a mouse named Jaq, and he was also a mouse that was saved by Cinderella from a cage.  This sounds awfully familiar…

Rushing through the barn doors was like running into a furnace.  The air was swirling with smoke, the back wall a sheet of fire ground to roof. Their horses and donkeys were kicking and rearing and screaming.  The poor animals, Arya thought.  Then she saw the wagon, and the three men manacled to its bed.  Biter was flinging himself against the chains, blood running down his arms from where the iron clasped his wrists.  Rorge screamed curses, kicking at the wood.  “Boy!” called Jaqen H’ghar.  “Sweet boy!”

[. . .]

“Good boys, kind boys,” called Jaqen H’ghar, coughing.

“Get these fucking chains off!” Rorge screamed.

[. . .]

Going back into that barn was the hardest thing she ever did.  Smoke was pouring out the open door like a writhing black snake, and she could hear the screams of the poor animals inside, donkeys and horses and men.  She chewed her lip, and darted through the doors, crouched low where the smoke wasn’t quite so thick.

A donkey was caught in a ring of fire, shrieking in terror and pain.  She could smell the stench of burning hair.  The roof was gone up too, and things were falling down, pieces of flaming wood and bits of straw and hay.  Arya put a hand over her mouth and nose.  She couldn’t see the wagon for the smoke, but she could still hear Biter screaming.  She crawled toward the sound.

And then a wheel was looming over her.  The wagon jumped and moved a half foot when Biter threw himself against his chains again.  Jaqen saw her, but it was too hard to breathe, let alone talk.  She threw the axe into the wagon.  Rorge caught it and lifted it over his head, rivers of sooty sweat pouring down his noseless face.  Arya was running, coughing.  She heard the steel crash through the old wood, and again, again. An instant later came a crack as loud as thunder, and the bottom of the wagon came ripping loose in an explosion of splinters. – Arya IV ACOK

So here we have Jaq who is leader of the mice, who also helps Cinderella by doing her favors.  Then we have Jaqen H’ghar who is the leader of Rorge and Biter (this name seems even more fitting now) and who is performing favors for Arya, which leads me to Jaqen’s dual Cinderella archetype: Fairy Godmother.

Magical Helpers

Some versions of Magical Helpers come from fairy godmothers or talking animals or genies.  In other versions this help comes to the heroine through her dead mother, often manifesting through animal aid.  In One Thousand and One Nights, in the story of “Judar and his Brethren” Judar is our Cinderella figure, whose own brothers betray and poison him, but before that he was gifted a genie named Al-Ra’ad al-Kasif who granted Judar’s wishes.  In the passage below Jaqen grants Arya three “wishes” which is typical for genies to grant in our popular consciousness:

She remembered that she hated him.  “You scared me.  You’re one of them now, I should have let you burn.  What are you doing here?  Go away or I’ll yell for Weese.”

“A man pays his debts.  A man owes three.”

“Three?”

“The Red God has his due, sweet girl, and only death may pay for life.  This girl took three that were his.  This girl must give three in their places.  Speak the names, and a man will do the rest.”

He wants to help me, Arya realized with a rush of hope that made her dizzy.  “Take me to Riverrun, it’s not far, if we stole some horses we could—”

He laid a finger on her lips.  “Three lives you shall have of me.  No more, no less.  Three and we are done.  So a girl must ponder.”  He kissed her hair softly.  “But not too long.” – Arya VII ACOK

Later, we also see that “wishes” have consequences, which is also prevalent when genies are concerned.  GRRM himself is a big fan of consequences and unintended side effects.  

Jaqen is not Arya’s only form of Magical Help at Harrenhal however.  Jaqen may take on the role of Fairy Godmother/Genie, but we also see Arya experiencing the help of not only an animal aid, but from a dead parent.  For instance, the heroine in Aschenputtel, by the Brother’s Grimm, is given a hazel twig by her father that she plants over her mother’s grave.  She waters it with tears and over the years it grows into a glowing hazel tree.  The girl prays under it three times a day, chanting, and a bird emerges from it that grants her wishes.  There are two instances of something similar happening in the books:

In the godswood she found her broomstick sword where she had left it, and carried it to the heart tree.  There she knelt.  Red leaves rustled.  Red eyes peered inside her.  The eyes of the gods.  “Tell me what to do, you gods,” she prayed.

For a long moment there was no sound but the wind and the water and the creak of leaf and limb.  And then, far far off, beyond the godswood and the haunted towers and the immense stone walls of Harrenhal, from somewhere out in the world, came the long lonely howl of a wolf.  Gooseprickles rose on Arya’s skin, and for an instant she felt dizzy.  Then, so faintly, it seemed as if she heard her father’s voice.  “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,” he said.

“But there is no pack,” she whispered to the weirwood.  Bran and Rickon were dead, the Lannisters had Sansa, Jon had gone to the Wall.  “I’m not even me now, I’m Nan.”

“You are Arya of Winterfell, daughter of the north. You told me you could be strong.  You have the wolf blood in you.”

“The wolf blood.”  Arya remembered now.  “I’ll be as strong as Robb.  I said I would.”  She took a deep breath, then lifted the broomstick in both hands and brought it down across her knee.  It broke with a loud crack, and she threw the pieces aside.  I am a direwolf, and done with wooden teeth. – Arya X ACOK

Here we see an inversion. Arya’s mother isn’t dead at this time, but her father, Ned is.  He is who we hear through the heart tree giving Arya this empowering “Mufasa” moment that gives way to Arya’s true transformation in this arc, she reclaims her identity.  And as soon as Arya asks the old gods for aid, a wolf howls in the distance as if in answer.  It’s not confirmed but I do truly believe that this howl came from Nymeria, by way of the Old Gods/Greenseers, who somehow helped strengthen their bond.  It is after this moment that Arya starts having full on wolf dreams in earnest and it’s through her first wolf dream that we see that Nymeria may have become Arya’s animal aid:

Her dreams were red and savage.  The Mummers were in them, four at least, a pale Lyseni and a dark brutal axeman from Ib, the scarred Dothraki horse lord called Iggo and a Dornishman whose name she never knew.  On and on they came, riding through the rain in rusting mail and wet leather, swords and axe clanking against their saddles.  They thought they were hunting her, she knew with all the strange sharp certainty of dreams, but they were wrong.  She was hunting them.

She was no little girl in the dream; she was a wolf, huge and powerful, and when she emerged from beneath the trees in front of them and bared her teeth in a low rumbling growl, she could small the rank stench of fear from horse and man alike.  The Lyseni’s mount reared and screamed in terror, and the others shouted at one another in mantalk, but before they could act the other wolves came hurtling from the darkness and the rain, a great pack of them, gaunt and wet and silent.

The fight was short but bloody.  The hairy man went down as he unslung his axe, the dark one died stringing an arrow, and the pale man from Lys tried to bolt.  Her brothers and sisters ran him down, turning him again and again, coming at him from all sides, snapping at the legs of his horse and tearing the throat from the rider when he came crashing to the earth. – Arya I ASOS

We see here that Nymeria and her pack protected Arya, Gendry, and Hot Pie against their pursuers after their escape from Harrenhal.

Here is another instance of Arya praying under the heart tree:

Arya went to her knees.  She wasn’t sure how she should begin.  She clasped her hands together.  Help me, you old gods, she prayed silently.  Help me get those men out of the dungeon so we can kill Ser Amory, and bring me home to Winterfell.  Make me a water dancer and a wolf and not afraid again, ever.

Was that enough?  Maybe she should pray aloud if she wanted the old gods to hear.  Maybe she should pray longer.  Sometimes her father had prayed a long time, she remembered. But the old gods had never helped him. Remembering that made her angry. “You should have saved him,” she scolded the tree.  “He prayed to you all the time.  I don’t care if you help me or not.  I don’t think you could even if you wanted to.”

“Gods are not mocked, girl.”

The voice startled her.  She leapt to her feet and drew her wooden sword.  Jaqen H’ghar stood so still in the darkness that he seemed one of the trees.  “A man comes to hear a name.  One and two and then comes three.  A man would have done.”

Arya lowered the splintery point toward the ground. “How did you know I was here?”

“A man sees.  A mean hears.  A man knows.”

She regarded him suspiciously.  Had the gods sent him?  “How’d you make the dog kill Weese?  Did you call Rorge and Biter up from hell?  Is Jaqen H’ghar your true name?

“Some men have many names.  Weasel.  Arry. Arya.”

She backed away from him, until she was pressed against the heart tree.  “Did Gendry tell?”

“A man knows,” he said again.  “My lady of Stark.”

Maybe the gods had sent him in answer to her prayers. – Arya IX ACOK

In Cenerentola, the heroine’s (Zezolla) father is given a date seedling by a fairy and he gives it to his daughter.  Zezolla cultivates the tree in which a fairy lives.  This fairy gives Zezolla magical aid.  When Arya prayed beneath the heart tree in the above quote it almost seems like Jaqen appeared from the trees, leaving Arya to question if the old gods sent him.

And like in Aschenputtel and Disney’s Cinderella, Arya spends time at Harrenhal singing/chanting to herself as well:

Barefoot surefoot lightfoot, she sang under her breath. I am the ghost in Harrenhal. – Arya IX ACOK

This is very strange for a couple of reasons.  When we first meet Arya she claims not to like songs and doesn’t sing.  She continues this up until she goes to Braavos. There she discovers that she likes the bawdy songs when she is using the name, Cat of the Canals.  The only exception to this is when Arya is at Harrenhal. Another reason this is odd is because of where Arya is at physically and mentally.  So either Arya was always lying about not liking songs, or Arya singing here is supposed to tell us something.

And while this might not mean anything, I found it interesting that Arya spends a lot of her time in ACOK barefoot.  Now Cinderella isn’t really said to be barefoot in the stories, but she did usually lose a shoe when running away from the Prince/King, hence making her barefoot. When Arya decides to escape Harrenhal, she does don a pair of shoes again and from then on out she mostly wears them.  This also leads to a fun bit of subversion.  In the originals tales it’s always the Prince/King saving Cinderella from further oppression.  But in Arya X ACOK, not only did she (a princess) plan the escape, but she saves Gendry, a lost (albeit bastard) prince, along with Hot Pie, from further oppression (and torture and death) by their slavers in their prison camp.  (Hot Pie definitely reminds me of Gus Gus as well by the way :D)

From Rags to Riches

In many versions of Cinderella, we also see the heroine become physically transformed.  The heroine is usually dirty, covered in ashes, and wearing “rags” before they are made over.  In the most popular version, Disney’s Cinderella, the Fairy Godmother magically turns her from dirty household servant to highborn lady, adorning her in a silver ballgown and glass slippers.  In Ye Xian, magical fish bones, help the heroine dress appropriately for a local Festival, including a light, golden shoe.  And in Aschenputtel, the doves that emerge from her hazel tree, that grant the heroine wishes, drop a gold and silver gown and silk shoes down to her to wear to the ball.  Also, noticeably, this is the time the Prince/King notices Cinderella and finally “sees” her.

While we didn’t get anything like that in ACOK, we don’t have to look much farther than ASOS, when Arya goes to Acorn Hall and meets Lady Smallwood, who puts her in two different dresses:

And afterward, they insisted she dress herself in girl’s things, brown woolen stockings and a light linen shift, and over that a light green gown with acorns embroidered all over the bodice in brown thread, and more acorns bordering the hem. – Arya IV ASOS

It was even worse than before; Lady Smallwood insisted that Arya take another bath, and cut and comb her hair besides; the dress she put her in this time was sort of lilac-colored, and decorated with little baby pearls.  The only good thing about it was that it was so delicate that no one could expect her to ride in it. – Arya IV ASOS

And while there is no ball, Arya and Gendry spend their time in the forge together.  This is the very first time Gendry has seen Arya look like a proper lady.  Cinderella and Arya are no longer dirty and in rags and they are now in gowns looking their place in society, despite Arya’s dress not being nearly as grand.  However, it’s enough of a change for Gendry to finally realize just who Arya truly is when it comes to her place in the world.  And judging by his behavior after this event, he also begins to acknowledge that if he continues to stay by her side he could potentially love her romantically in the future as well:  

Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.

[. . .]

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her.  “You look different now.  Like a proper little girl.”

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”

“Nice, though.  A nice oak tree.”  He stepped closer, and sniffed at her.  “You even smell nice for a change.” – Arya IV ASOS

Runaway Princess

Now we may not have had a ball, but while taking shelter in a stone stable with the Brotherhood Without Banners, Arya does run outside, trying to get away from everyone:

His words beat at her ears like the pounding of a drum, and suddenly it was more than Arya could stand.  She wanted Riverrun, not Acorn Hall; she wanted her mother and her brother Robb, not Lady Smallwood or some uncle she never knew.  Whirling, she broke for the door, and when Harwin tried to grab her arm she spun away from him quick as a snake.

Outside the stables the rain was still falling, and distant lightning flashed in the west.  Arya ran as fast as she could.  She did not know where she was going, only that she wanted to be alone, away from all the voices, away from their hollow words and broken promises.  All I wanted was to go to Riverrun.  It was her own fault, for taking Gendry and Hot Pie with her when she left Harrenhal.  She would have been better alone.  If she had been alone, the outlaws would never have caught her, and she’d be with Robb and her mother by now.  They were never my pack.  If they had been, they wouldn’t leave me.  She splashed through a puddle of muddy water.  Someone was shouting her name, Harwin probably, or Gendry, but the thunder drowned them out as it rolled across the hills half a heartbeat behind the lightning.  The lightning lord, she thought angrily.  Maybe he couldn’t die, but he could lie. – Arya VIII ASOS

Now it’s not explicitly clear that it was Gendry who ran after Arya, calling her name, but due to the possible symbolism in the scene, and also his behavior in AFFC, it makes me think it was him.  But whether he was or not I believe just Arya believing it might be him makes this applicable enough as a loose parallel for the Prince chasing after Cinderella, only for Cinderella to disappear like in many of the Cinderella retellings.  

Searching the Realm

At the end of ASOS in the epilogue we learn that Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners, who Gendry is a part of is actively searching for Arya:

The outlaw gave him (Merrett Frey) an encouraging smile. “Well, as it happens, we’re looking for a dog that ran away.”

“A dog?” Merrett was lost.  “What kind of dog?”

“He answers to the name Sandor Clegane […] Did you see him at the wedding, perchance?”

[. . .]

“He would have had a child with him,” said the singer.  “A skinny girl, about ten.  Or perhaps a boy the same age.”

“I don’t think so,” said Merrett.  “Not that I knew.” – Epilogue ASOS

In many retellings of the Cinderella story, the Prince/King searches the realm looking for the heroine with an identifying item, and typically that item is a shoe of some sort.  Once the shoe is placed on the heroine’s foot it symbolically means the heroine is reclaiming her identity.  Arya, however, didn’t lose a shoe, and I’d argue that when Ned/the Old Gods/the Greenseers spoke to Arya through the heart tree, empowering Arya, that’s when Arya reclaimed her identity, at least for that time as Arya must reclaim her identity multiple times in her arc.  I’d argue that Arya’s connection to the North and her family is her overall identifying item. But I fully believe Gendry himself might be another “identifying item,” along with him still taking on the archetypal role of “prince”.

Why do I say this? Because in AFFC Gendry is stationed at one of the last known places Arya was sighted at with the Hound, the Crossroads Inn, where he is blacksmithing while also helping to look after orphans. He was likely stationed there by Lady Stoneheart and the Brotherhood Without Banners because he knew Arya the best out of everyone (remember LSH would probably have a hard time recognizing Arya after two plus years and a resurrection).  So if she returned, he would not only have a better chance at recognizing her, but also possibly a better chance at keeping her there compared to anyone else.  If people are doubting that this is Gendry’s role, just remember that the BWB is actively looking for Arya, and also note Gendry’s personality shift post-ASOS. Gendry has always been rude and moody, but in AFFC it has been taken to the extreme.  He is absolutely furious and instead of being just plain rude, he’s actually become mean and more violent.  He also seems to have something against the Hound now, someone who he previously had nothing against during the Hound’s trial by combat earlier in ASOS:

…The boy came and stood beside her, his hammer in his hand.

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses.  For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day.  An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too.  ��Him.”

“Not him.  His helm.” Brienne tried to keep the fear from her voice, but her mouth was dry as dust. – Brienne VII AFFC

That “him” was very pointed and because of the symbolism in the scene surrounding that “him” and the overall change in Gendry’s behavior I definitely take it to mean Gendry does have a problem with the Hound now.  So what changed?  The Hound kidnapped Arya.  I think it’s safe to say that Gendry is just as invested as the rest of the BWB, if not more so, to finding Arya again, hence making him the “prince” searching the realm for his lost Cinderella.

A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes

In Disney’s Cinderella, songs like “Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Boo”, “So This Is Love”, “Cinderella”, “A Dream Is a Wish Your Heart Makes”, “Oh, Sing Sweet Nightingale”, and “The Work Song” are included into the film.  This isn’t the first time we’ve seen something like this in the previous retellings however.  Like I mentioned earlier the Brother’s Grimm, Aschenputtel, features this as well to some extant.  In Aschenputtel, the heroine would “sing a chant” to call upon the white doves that came from her glowing hazel tree.  These birds would help her grant wishes and help her complete tasks, and it was most likely the inspiration for why birds were included in the Disney version, although birds have featured in more than just Aschenputtel.  I mention this because GRRM wrote Arya a song in the novels:

“My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

 “And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me your forest lass.”

This is very clearly a love song also and we know it’s most likely about Arya and her foreshadowing a possible future relationship with Gendry.  And it’s very clearly about them as Gendry is a bastard Baratheon “prince”, hence the mentions of “yellow silk” and a “crown”, and also because Arya quite literally is dressed as an oak tree at this time and almost a maiden and will be a maiden when they reunite later in the series.  We also know the song is meant to foreshadow them because of the context.  Tom O’Seven’s specifically winked at Arya as he sang this song, and after the song was sung Lady Smallwood, when taking Arya to get changed into a different dress, said to Arya, “I have no gowns of leaves,” which further tells the readers that this song is Arya’s song, her future love song.

A Mother’s Legacy

In the Magical Helpers section above I mentioned that a dead parent may be the one to help the heroine instead of the typical fairy godmother, by either sending an animal to aid the heroine and/or granting wishes, or by the heroine’s mother transforming into an animal.  In some Greek versions, in “the Balkan-Slavonic tradition of the tale”, and in some Central Asian variants, the heroine’s mother comes back as a cow who is then killed by the heroine’s sisters.  The heroine eventually gathers the bones and from her mother’s grave the heroine is gifted wonderful dresses.  In other variants, the heroine’s dead mother comes back as a fish or a female dog. These animals represent the heroine’s mother’s legacy.

Jon chuckled. “Perhaps you should do the same thing, little sister.  Wed Tully to Stark in your arms.”

“A wolf with a fish in its mouth?” It made her laugh.  “That would look silly…” – Arya I AGOT

That night she went to sleep thinking of her mother, and wondering if she should kill the Hound in his sleep and rescue Lady Catelyn herself.  When she closed her eyes she saw her mother’s face against the back of her eyelids.  She’s so close I could almost smell her…

…and then she could smell her.  The scent was faint beneath the other smells, beneath moss and mud and water, and the stench of rotting reeds and rotting men.  She padded slowly through the soft ground to the river’s edge, lapped up a drink, then lifted her head to sniff.  The sky was grey and thick with cloud, the river green and full of floating things.  Dead men clogged the shallows, some still moving as the water pushed them, others washed up on the banks.  Her brothers and sisters swarmed around them, tearing at the rich ripe flesh.

[. . .]

The scent was stronger now [. . .] Only the scent mattered.  She sniffed the air again.  There it was, and now she saw it too, something pale and white drifting down the river, turning where it brushed against a snag.  The reeds bowed down before it.

She splashed noisily through the shallows and threw herself into the deeper water, her legs churning.  The current was strong but she was stronger.  She swam, following her nose.  The river smells were rich and wet, but those were not the smells that pulled her.  She paddled after the sharp red whisper of cold blood, the sweet cloying stench of death.  She chased them as she had often chased a red deer through the trees, and in the end she ran them down, and her jaw closed around a pale white arm.  She shook it to make it move, but there was only death and blood in her mouth.  By now she was tiring, and it was all she could do to pull the body back to shore. As she dragged it up the muddy bank, one of her little brothers came prowling, his tongue lolling from his mouth. She had to snarl to drive him off, or else he would have fed.  Only then did she stop to shake the water from her fur.  The white thing lay facedown in the mud, her dead flesh wrinkled and pale, cold blood trickling from her throat.  Rise, she thought.  Rise and eat and run with us. – Arya XII ASOS

“So you sewed his head on Robb Stark’s neck after both o’ them were dead,” said yellow cloak.

“My [Merrett Frey] father did that [. . .] I only drank some wine…you have no witness.”

“As it happens, you’re wrong there.”  The singer turned to the hooded woman.  “Milady?”

The outlaws parted as she came forward, saying no word.  When she lowered her hood, something tightened inside Merrett’s chest, and for a moment he could not breathe.  No.  No, I saw her die.  She was dead for a day and night before they stripped her naked and threw her body in the river.  Raymund opened her throat from ear to ear.  She was dead.

Her cloak and collar hid the gash his brother’s blade had made, but her face was even worse than he remembered.  The flesh had gone pudding soft in the water and turned the color of curdled milk. Half her hair was gone and the rest had turned as white and brittle as a crone’s.  Beneath her ravaged scalp, her face was shredded skin and black blood where she had raked herself with her nails.  But her eyes were the most terrible thing.  Her eyes saw him, and they hated.

“She don’t speak,” said the big man in the yellow cloak.  “You bloody bastards cut her throat too deep for that.  But she remembers.”  He turned to the dead woman and said, “What do you say, m’lady?  Was he part of it?”

Lady Catelyn’s eyes never left him.  She nodded. – Epilogue ASOS

In the Chinese retelling of Cinderella, Ye Xian, the heroine befriends a fish, which is the reincarnation of her deceased mother.  In The Story of Tam and Cam, a Vietnamese version, the heroine Tam also had a fish which was killed by the stepmother and the half-sister, and its bones also give her clothes.  And a typical scene in Kapmalaien tales is the mother becoming a fish, being eaten in fish form, the daughter burying her bones and a tree sprouting from her grave.

So not only is Lady Catelyn a symbolic fish, a daughter of House Tully, but she’s also been resurrected (reincarnated), and is looking specifically for our heroine, Arya, who I believe will be gifted several various things (both good and bad) by this incarnation of her mother, but we shall see if the parallel continues when TWOW and ADOS come out.

Conclusion

I really hope that after you read this monster you were as convinced as I am that Arya indeed has Cinderella motifs, and an extensive amount of them as well. Whatever it may mean I don’t rightly know, but what I do know is that at the end of the day, the many stories of Cinderella are an analogy.  An analogy about someone “who unexpectedly achieves recognition or success after a period of obscurity and neglect”.  Of someone whose attributes were unrecognized in their society, only for them to be recognized.  And I don’t know about you, but that sounds pretty hand in hand with one of her other biggest fairy tale motifs as well that runs concurrently with the Cinderella motif, and that is the story of “The Ugly Duckling”, who after years of neglect, finds acceptance within society, as well as self-acceptance within themselves. :)

[ghostiewriter]

I just need any future jiara canons you have 🤣 I'm addicted. Preferably pregnant or with kids. Seriously just....gimme it

I AM HAPPY TO MAKE YOUR WISH MY COMMAND MY FRIEND!

CAN YOU IMAGINE JJ AND KIE HAVING THEIR OWN PLACE FOR THE FIRST TIME?

They do it up together and paint it themselves

They jokingly challenge each other at making IKEA furniture

Kie watches JJ as he’s shirtless and building a table from scratch because he’s convinced he can do it

He gets bored after an hour and they just scrap the project and go back to IKEA

Imagine them sleeping on a mattress on the floor for the first night but it doesn’t matter because it’s their place🥺

IMAGINE NOW A FEW YEARS LATER

They have gotten so used to it just being them and then BOOM THEY HAVE A KID ON THE WAY

JJ is running around like a madman baby-proofing the apartment

“Does that corner look too sharp for you?”

“Are babies aware of curtains being a no-tug situation?”

“What are the chances of our baby falling into the toilet? Okay maybe with my genes, that’s high—”

Kie finds it absolutely hilarious but also quite cute

Can you imagine them decorating the nursery together?

Kie paints a wee mural and JJ is making sure their baby has the best crib one can make

(side note: he gets way better at wood work over the years)

That crib being the one they use for all their kids😭each of the wee bars has the kid’s name carved into it

Imagine Kie waking up one morning and finding JJ curled in the crib with the baby because it was crying and wouldn’t stop unless he was holding it and he didn’t want to wake up Kie so he climbed in

IMAGINE HER HAVING A WEE ALBUM OF ALL THE TIMES SHE HAS FOUND JJ AND THE BABY FAST ASLEEP

The first time she finds the baby napping on his chest whilst he lays on the couch, Kie swears her ovaries are going to explode

Also can we talk about JJ and Kie catching each other doing the baby voice and taking the piss out of each other?

Because they would

They try and record each other saying the weirdest stuff

It’s like a competition that kickstarts all over again whenever they have another kid

It continues on when they get pets too

The competition just never ends with them too🌚

[teeztheflag]

─────────────────────

S i e b e n  S i n n e (Seven Senses) II

⋆ pairing: catking!san x reader (x human!woo young)

⋆ genre: yandere au, fantasy au, suggestive

⋆ trigger warnings ⚠️ strong language, yanderish behaviour, possessiveness, violence

⋆ words: 6,800

a/n: second part! I hope you like it :) gimme feedback you lovely people <3

part I  part II  part III

⋆ „You’re a cat now. Did you already forget?“

─────────────────────

You were shaking heavily. Thoughts running a mile per hour you could just think of the boy that helped you earlier to find the way out of the kingdom.

He said he would torture him... It wasn’t his fault. You brought him into the situation.

You stand up and make your way to the door trying to open it without success. Your banging and yelling doesn’t seem to bug someone because no one comes and no one openes it or talks to you. You slide down the door your head between your palms feeling the soft fur of your ears.

This is a bad dream. A very bad dream.

You try to control your breathing but can’t stop the tears that roll down your reddened cheeks. Everything was too much for you. You were confused and feare the worst... What if San would hurt you, too? The look in his eyes was wild and feral when he left you about half an hour ago. Your fingers find their way to the cold material of your necklace. It suddenly feels much more heavy than yesterday.

You want to rip it off your hand already a strong grip on it but you understand that it would probably only anger him more if he saw it. After a few minutes you stand up and look around the chambers of San. Everything seemed very neat and the room also led to a huge bathroom and a dressing room that owned the probably most expensive fabrics you’ve ever seen.

There was a mirror inside the en-suite and you watch your appearance in awe. Your tail doesn’t move around much and your ears seem to hang down a little bit representing your sorrowful mood all along.

Suddenly you hear a thud and a light call for your voice indicating that San had to be back. You turn around and leave the dressing room to see him standing in the room with slight wet hair, ears and tail and new clothes.

His eyes immediately turn soft seeing you and with a shaky sigh he gets down on his knees in front of you dismissing your hurtful glare.

„I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you in this state.“

You look down on him bewildered at his choice of words but are quick to do the only logical thing - play by his game.

„My king. I am the one to be sorry. I think it won’t bring us anywhere if I lie to you. I tried to leave you but ... I have a good reason to try so.“ 

San looks up an interested glint on his face and his lips parting a few times before he speaks up. „And what is your reason then, my love?“ With that he stands up and tilts his head a little bit ears twitching probably in annoyance.

You speak rather unsure. „My life. My human life outside this world. My family and friends. My school and my town and my goals for the future. I am not a cat, my king... I don’t want to be a cat...“

San‘s orbs turn into such a dark color you flinch naturally when he grimaces at your words and holds his hand up. You close your eyes anticipating the slap that might follow after your brave words but you feel goosebumps forming on your skin when instead your face is met with the tip of warm fingers.

You hear a little chuckle leaving him and open your eyes to see the king smirking at you heartily with his fangs showing which earns him a frown of you. „You will adjust. I and all people of this kingdom will help you to.“

With the feeling of failure evident on your face and how you move away from his touch the tears are immediately streaming again. „You don’t want to understand me, right?“

While San is busy holding himself back to do something he would regret you keep on stepping backwards until you meet the wall. He‘s so close now you can feel his breath on your lips and the temperature in the room seems to rise rapidly at his close proximity. Your gaze slides over the sharp features of his rather beautiful face when he presses his opened palm hard against the surface of the wall next to your head.

„My king...“ Your voice trembles so much you’re afraid you might faint any second.

„San. My name is San. Let me get something clear, (y/n). You are mine now - my soon to be wife and queen. I fell in love with you at first sight and as I said, a cat only falls in love one time in their lives. Do you think I would let you go? Never. Will I destroy everyone who tries to take you away from me? Yes.“

You’re stunned at his tone and gulp trying to process everything he just said. „He’s alive, right?“

San smiles at you. „He is. You don’t know that your little stunt literally helped me a lot to finally take this scum and give him what he deserves. But that shouldn’t interest you any further.“

Something in yourself suddenly lightens up understanding that he doesn’t only seem to be merciless but is much worse in reality. „You’re a monster, San - and I hate you.“

An impressive look adorns his features at your response and he scoffs. „Only to the ones who try to take you away from me.“

„Little possessive there, don’t you think?“ You counter.

„Oh, you don’t want to test me even more darling.“ 

You shake your head lost in your thoughts. „I won’t submit to you.“ 

He leans back and eyes you from the bottom to the top. „We will see.“ San responses and turns around and indicates for you to follow him which you do - promising yourself only because there’s probably going to be dinner and you are way to exhausted after this day to argue with him any longer.

You’re still thinking of the boy... god, how sorry you are for everything you caused. You should try to help him no matter what. Luckily San let you sleep in your own chambers this night - if it was an act of sympathy you didn’t even want to know. More intriguing was the fact that after the incident he acted like nothing happened at all and also the whole castle treated you like the queen you would soon be.

The next morning the maids enter your chambers again with the prettiest smiles on their faces preparing you for the day. You’re fitted into a loose but elegant old white dress after they got your hair and make up ready.

The look in the mirror is promising and you still have to get used to the ears on your head. Joy pleads with you to wait in the chambers until someone comes to pick you up but you’re quick to take your leave and run so fast they lose you because of the various turns and hallways the castle provides.

You’re laughing and breathing out when you check if you actually lost them and decide to roam around on your own. Some guards greet you don’t knowing about the fact you’re not supposed to walk around on your own right now. Only when you enter a big foyer and descend a huge staircase you hold in to listen to a voice you once heard before.

„Prince Jong Ho!“ You try to find the source of the voice quickly and shriek back when you open a slight closed door seeing the bare back of the prince.

„Woah!“ The prince shields himself with the fabric he just wanted to put on when he hears your scream. „(y/n)?“ A smile grows on his young features and he looks around the corner to find you holding your hands in front of your eyes.

„I am sorry.“

„Oh, don’t be! I will be with you in a minute!“ You wait in front of his chambers when he comes out dressed pretty a moment later and engulfs you into his arms. Surprisingly you hug him back equally feeling like the prince was much nicer and trustworthy than his older brother.

„Oh, but what brings you to me? I thought you would be eating breakfast with my brother. Or did you get lost again?“ He winks at you not meaning any harm but his statement just made you realize he might not be a big help...

You stand awkwardly in front of him and fidget with the hem of your dress before you decide to reach out. „Please, prince Jong Ho. You have to help me to get out of here! Your brother is - “

„Oh no, (y/n)... San already told me about yesterday and he said this might would happen because you’re still a little bit confused and nervous because of the wedding. I promise you I will be there for you and love you like a sister! You don’t have to be afraid of anything!“ He cheers up to lighten the mood but it only comes to your deaf ears understanding you won’t be able to convince the young but naive prince.

With careful steps you put some space between the two of you leading to a frown on Jong Ho‘s face. When he tries to reach out you put up your hands in defence perplexing the prince. 

„Please, talk to me (y/n). You don’t seem to feel really good right now maybe I should bring you to San and - “

„No!“ With a strong push Jong Ho trembles back and the moment you turn around to run you collide with a firm chest and immediately feel a tail engaging your waist to hold you firm.

„Jong Ho, I am sorry but (y/n) seems to be a bit disoriented this morning... I will take her with me.“ With a huge smile on his face he takes you with him away from his brother who waves at the two of you relieved.

You groan out annoyed which earns yourself a giggle from the cat king. „Your ears look pretty this morning.“ 

Scoffing you whistle out. „Is this how you are flirting in cat style?“

„Maybe.“ His tail strengthens it‘s hold on you and you can feel a slight tingling sensation in your stomach because of this.

San doesn’t bring the incident up again and prepared a breakfast in the big garden on the green grass for you. The sight is really pretty to take in and you wonder how bipolar his actions come off...

After finishing you’re closing your eyes enjoying the sun on your skin and freeze when the king leans into your comfort zone to place a chaste kiss on your exposed collarbone.

„You smell amazing... also take a last look on the garden and the town. You aren’t allowed to leave the castle until our wedding.“

A bubble of anger ignites inside you and you turn to him not stopping your hand that reaches out to place a firm slap on his cheek. San‘s face moved in the process and he huffs out tasting blood because of his fangs colliding with his bottom lip.

„You little mischievous kitten.“

Rage is written on your face but instead of getting the impact San faces straight ahead and sighs in content. „You won’t get anywhere with this. I like your feisty side.“ 

You slump back and groan out crossing your arms in the process. „You’re so annoying San!“

„And you’re finally calling me San. We’re getting here anywhere I see.“ He smiles triumphally at you from the side whereas you won’t worth a look at him.

The day went by pretty unspectacular with San leaving you after the breakfast tending to kingdom duties and you being captured in the castle followed by gazes of the guards - whose number increased noticeable after San‘s threat.

How should you get out of here? And how was the boy doing?

The next day - again without having to sleep with the king - you find yourself in the kitchen seeing servants pacing around like ants preparing many delicacies.

„What is going on her if I might ask?“ 

A young man greats you immediately with a bow coming to your side to guide you around. „This is all for your wedding, Miss.“

„But isn’t the wedding only in a few days?“

The man chuckles and leans down to whisper in your ear. „King San wants to test everything before to make sure what meals we‘re going to present on the actual event.“

You roll with your eyes and cross your arms. „Isn’t this a little bit too much.“ You mutter out and look at the servant questioningly.

„Oh, our king is a perfectionist!“

„Mh, if you say so... I am just sorry you have to work so hard... what is your name by the way?“

„It’s nothing! We love to put a smile on his and your face! My name is Jeong Yun Ho, Miss.“ His tail wiggles excitedly at your interest in his person and you can‘t suppress the smile at his behavior. „Nice to meet you, Yun Ho.“

You look around before you lean down into his side a little bit more making him confused. „If I might ask you, Yun Ho... Do you know how the captured boy in the dungeon is doing?“

Yun Ho looks frantically around being clearly irritated on how to answer. „Yes, but unfortunately I don’t think that I am allowed to tell you.“

Welp, was everyone in this godforsaken kingdom in love with San?

„Oh, I mean, I am going to be your future queen, right? I want nothing to stand between me and our diligent and hard working people...“

„Mh, okay... You’re right! I trust you, Miss. As our future queen I want to fulfill every wish of yours!“ You smile to yourself and listen intently. „So he’s doing alright I guess. He got what he deserved for what he did to you but... it’s still sad.“

„Why? Who is he?“

„Kang Yeo Sang once was a great advisor of King San and they were good friends, too. It ended bitterly when he betrayed the king and us by wanting to turn into a human to live in the human world.“

What the hell?

„How did he do that? What was his plan?“

Yun Ho looks around again and lowers his voice in advance. „I am afraid I am not really sure. Rumors say he fell in love with a human girl and went to seek help of someone called the ‚mask seller‘ but no ones even sure if someone like this exists and how he could help him with turning into a human...“

„Do you know someone who knows more about this?“

He thinks and shrugs. „I don’t know. I would probably ask the traitor himself if I wanted to know but, Miss, why do you want to know all of this?“ A huge smile adorns your face and you chuckle. „Just get other thoughts because I am so nervous because of the wedding.“

Yun Ho nods and excuses himself to continue with his work leaving you finally with a goal ahead.

You have to talk to Kang Yeo Sang.

Another day went by with you only seeing the king at meals. You wouldn’t bring up the subject of him wanting you to sleep in his chambers. Because - you were very thankful he seemed to forget about it.

You layed down in your bed between the silk cushions and played with your tail. You were able to control it better now after the first moments of it swinging around tickling others or stepping on it and falling down.

Oh gosh four guards saw this and you bet it took everything in them to not laugh...

How long have you been even here now? It wasn’t like you didn’t do anything intelligent all day, no. You visited the big library of the castle and read about the kingdom and the history of cats. You also tried to get to know the servants of the castle more and have some conversation. And of course you already found the location of the dungeon but much to your dismay it was guarded by two guards nonstop.

There had to be a way to lure them away but how...

When you try to yawn just a deep meow escapes which makes you laugh out afterwards but also remembers you that all of this isn’t funny at all... You might look like a cat but you’re still a human at heart. That’s why tomorrow you should find a way to get to Yeo Sang and talk with him about the mask seller.

If this mysterious person had something to do with turning people into humans maybe he could help you, too?

You fall asleep soon after and your thoughts vanish into an inappropriate dream.

„San I - I this feel so good!“ San‘s tail is tangled around your waist and you can feel his juices mixing with yours inside your throbbing walls. He feels huge and is filling you to a point where you see stars. His rhythm increases it‘s pace when you embrace his waist with your arms to push him further into your body.

A smirk plays on his lips and he decides to fully taste the moan that just wanted to escape you with a deep and longing kiss. He grunts and moans out at the feeling of your skin on his.

„You needy little - “

You wake up with sweat on your body and quick breaths.

„Did this just really happen... oh god no! I am not fantasizing about him. This is so wrong I don’t like him I like - “

There was a boy you liked. What was his name again?

You munched on your cereal for half an hour when San poked you with the tip of his tail to get your attention. He tilted his head and smiled. „What are you thinking about?“

The sex scene comes back into your mind but you quickly try to shove it away when you can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought. Getting back to your original concern... you forgot about someone. Someone who was really important to you.

„It’s nothing.“ You sadly look down again while San supports the weigh of his head with his hand and arm placed on the table. His gaze is still trained on you interested in what you are hiding from him.

He pokes you again making you groan out and you lean back into your chair to frown at him. He won’t let you out of this... „The longer I am here the more I feel like forgetting about my world... and the persons in it.“

„Mh, this is your world now. My concierge told me about the boy you met before they took you home.“

„The boy before you took me here.. Woo Young! That’s his name!“ Surprised at remembering him again you stand up and smile happily. Much to the dismay of the cat king. He rolls with his eyes and indicates for you to sit down again.

„You cannot see him again. He wouldn’t recognize you anyway.“

„Why are you saying this! Why wouldn’t he recognize me?“ San chuckles and pops a grape into his mouth one of his black cat ears twitching because of your high pitched voice.

„You’re a cat now. Did you already forget?“

Tears are threatening to form when you look away to keep out of San‘s eyesight.

„My beautiful (y/n), please don’t be sad. I didn’t want to make you unhappy this morning... but it cannot be helped. Most of the humans don’t like us. They treat us like we’re dumb and my fellow sorrowful friends being encaged in their small homes are... well, let’s not talk any further about it. Today is a good day! You’re having the fitting for your wedding dress.“

You shrug him off and stand up to leave the dining room for your chambers feeling like it doesn’t matter what you say San would always win an argument.

Indeed later on the maids found you in the play room to take you with them to a part of the castle you haven’t been before. Ye Ri was on your left sight and entangled your arms to whisper into your ear. „We’ve chosen a room with a huge distance to the king‘s working place. Knowing him he would try to take a look at his beautiful queen.“ She and the other maids giggle at this and you put on a fake smile not wanting to crash their spirit.

A man and a woman were already prepared to show you their dresses while a small siamese cat waited patiently on an armchair. One after one you’re getting into dresses being not happy with little details. The maids on the other hand are teary and complimenting you nonstop saying after every dress ‚this is the one!‘. Only after two hours you get into the 54th dress that knocks the breath out of your lungs.

„Beautiful...“

„Is this the one, Miss?“ You turn around to look at the maids that watch you knowingly and after a carful nod they scream and open a bottle of champagne.

The siamese cat is the designer of the dress and with a little puff it suddenly transforms into a person. A beautiful woman is standing in front of you bowing to you. „Thank you for taking one of my creations, Miss.“

„Oh, you’re welcome! I love it.“ You swing around a little bit giggling when your tail swings happily, too.

After a few hours you ask one of the guards where the king is and if he is busy. „I am sorry, Miss. King Choi is currently out of the castle in another town but he will be back in an hour. Should I tell him about your need to see him when he’s back?“

„Oh no, please! I will see him this evening at dinner anyways. Thank you for your help though.“

This was your chance. Making your way to the door that leads to the dungeon you hide behind a corner and see the two guards patrolling around. Your plan? Probably not the best but earlier you decided to sneak some matches out of the library where a fireplace is located.

You have to set up the fire somewhere they can see it quickly so maybe just the curtains of the one of the big windows in the hallway? Well, better than nothing. After a few attempts you manage to lighten the curtains taking a step back at how fast the fabric starts to burn.

Smoke is developing and you quickly hide back to wait for the guards to recognize the fire. Only a few minutes after nearly all the curtains are in flames and the guards run up to yell for help. They’re already shielding their eyes and are coughing out the smoke that enters their lungs.

As fast as you can you run and hope they didn’t see you while they try to bring down the curtains and put the fire out with their feet. You open the door and run down a dark corridor until you are met with a staircase that leads to nothing but blackness.

You don’t know how much time you would have so you practically rush and hope there are no other guards down here. The dungeons are cold and wet and you can hear some whimpers and meows from cats that are here for who knows how long.

With a small voice you try to find the one you’re looking for. „Yeo Sang? Kang Yeo Sang?“ After a few more attempts there’s a jingle and a hiss and you decided to go into the direction it came from.

„Yeo Sang?“

„Could you please shut your mouth I am trying to sleep here.“

You rush to the grid and your fingers enclose around the cold material breathing hard in excitement.

Yeo Sang carefully stands up from his poorly made bed and nears the door to see you standing there. „You!“

„Yes, it’s me... and before you say anything I am so sorry you’re in here. It’s my fault but please believe me I will try everything to get you out of here!“ You speak in desperation and Yeo Sang‘s frown slowly vanishs of his face.

„It’s not your fault... sooner or later he would have found a reason to imprison me.“

„I already know about your story with the king... I am sorry this happened to you.“

„You know about it? Well, I mean I believe everyone knows about it by now.“ Hurt takes over his features and you give him an apologetic look.

„Listen Yeo Sang, you have to tell me everything about this mask seller so we can get out of the kingdom and - “

„No! Don’t even dare to get into contact with him!“

„But why? I mean he could help us to turn into humans and we could flee.“

„This cat is a bad person, believe me. He won’t help us without wanting something in return.“

„But why? What could he want?“

Yeo Sang sighs troubled at your interest but what else chance would he get? If you wanted to test your luck...

„For me it was a hard decision to make. I had to give him my cat life.“

„But you’re still a cat, right?“

„Yes. Because just like you I was stopped before leaving the kingdom which didn’t fulfill our contract so I stayed as a cat.“

„If we find him he could make another contract, right?“

„I guess. The problem is I didn’t see him for over three years. It’s just like he vanished out of this world to lure humans into his trap. You know why so many people are afraid of him? Because once you make a contact with him there’s no turning back. He will take your human or cat soul and eat it up to stay young.“

„That sounds terrible... but for me I want to have my human body back. I wouldn’t regret it all. I wasn’t born as a cat neither identify as one. I just want to go home and - “

„Be with the ones you love...“ Yeo Sang ends your sentence feeling the equal desperation.

„Yeo Sang, there has to be a reason the mask seller came to you. Do you remember something you did or anything else?“

„I was desperate and crying in the garden when no one was around... he just appeared in front of me.“

„I have to get out of the castle... I don’t know how to find him but I am sure he won’t come if am trappend inside.“

„I’ve heard that you’re not allowed to go out anymore.“

„You know the king, right? Maybe an idea how I could convince him?“ The young boy laughs out and thinks deeply before answering. „San is very intelligent and manipulative. He likes the things to go his way so you will probably have no chance in tricking him.“

„That doesn’t help me at all...“

„Listen, if I would know how to charm this fucker I wouldn’t be in the dungeons right now. But with you... he was my friend but you will be his future queen. Maybe use your female charm?“

You raise one of your eyebrows at his suggestion and groan. Suddenly there’s noise to which you and and the cat flinch.

„You have to go! Hide until the guard passed you and - “

„I will do everything to get you out of here as soon as possible!“ With a quick nod he ushers you away and indeed you manage to get out of the dungeon unrecognized.

Back in your chambers you close the door and shriek when you can see San leaning against the wall looking outside. „Where have you been my love?“

With a shaky voice and controlled steps you reach the king. „I have been in the library.“

His gaze drifts to your form and he sees your tail swaying uncontrolled back and forth. „Sure. I am just happy to see you’re unharmed. There has been a fire, y‘know.“ He folds his arms in front of his chest and squints his eyes at you.

„I - I didn’t know.“ 

San makes a move to rub some dust off your chin and you facepalm yourself in your thoughts. „Should we eat dinner?“ 

You’re more than convinced he knows everything so him pretending not to confuses you really. 

Remembering your goal you have to work on it immediately so after some seconds you decided to make the first move. You take a step forward until you’re directly standing in front of him. Catching his gaze with your own you place your palms flat against his chest to which the kings takes a sharp breath. „Can’t we go eat outside? Like in the town?“

„In the town? Did you forget about your house arrest?“

„No but... I feel like going crazy inside here. You said humans are bad for imprison their cats and technically you’re doing the same to me.“ At this San stars to smirk his fangs showing.

„You’re pretty intelligent. Always showing me I made the right decision. Well, then let’s go.“ He takes your hand with excitement but stops in his tracks immediately after.

„Oh, you should wash your face before we go my love. I will wait outside for you.“

Your heartbeat seems to stop when the words escape his mouth so casually. „I will. Thank you for reminding me.“

After eating in one of the probably much more expansive restaurants of the town you were able to recognize everything a little bit more and also discovered something that could be interesting. On the way home you play with your thoughts and come to the conclusion: the mask seller, that guy a sells things. Wouldn’t there be a possability to find him on the market? Probably not but the idea was so silly it was worth a try because like you and Yeo Sang already emphasized - your chances were low.

Back in the castle you do something that you would probably regret later on. In the dim light of one of the living rooms you decide to watch a movie with the cat king and cuddle yourself into his sight. You’re getting sleepy with any minute and freeze up when a purr leaves your body after San starts to stroke your hair and ears.

„Oh my god. That’s feels... unusual?“ San laughs out and pecks your cheek to which you purr again.

„Stop! I am already purring like a cat oh no!“

„Your purring is like music to my ears.“

With his tail he pushes you back into his arms and until midnight you turn into a purring mess. You don’t feel like stopping him at all because something inside of you yearns for touches and strokes.

„Should we go to bed, (y/n)?“

„Mhh...“ With half opened eyes San makes a move to lift you up and makes his way to his chambers to lay you softly into the cheets. You fall asleep immediately and don’t notice the king getting ready for bed, too, to join you.

How many days since you were brought here?

You slurp on the tea a maid prepared for you and watch the town in the distance. It was a nice day and the castle was in full action to prepare for the wedding. You push yourself from the ground and enter the big hall where your wedding seems to soon take place.

Many servants and people greet you and you stop in your tracks when you can see Hong Joong who is busying with telling others what to do.

„Miss? I didn’t see you for so long! Are you excited? Do you like the decorations?“ His face lights up immediately and you send him a reassuring smile to all his questions.

He‘s San‘s concierge so maybe he could help you to get out of the castle today? „Ehm, Mr. Kim. Do you know where I can find the king right now? I want to talk with him about something...“

„Mh, of course! Follow me.“ Turning hallways and passing by chambers the concierge doesn’t stop talking about many things.

„I mean he’s busy right now but he already told me that there’s always time for you! How a good husband and father he will make... always time for his family as well.“ You suppress the need to roll with your eyes when Hong Joong stops in front of a door and knocks two times.

San stands up instantly to reach you and hug you to him. „What brings you here? Do you need anything?“

„No, I mean. I wanted to ask you something.“ You smile up at him sickeningly sweet and start to caress his face with your fingers to which the king straightens up and tries to control himself.

„Anything for you.“

„I want to go to the market today.“ Immediately his face falls and you are quick to continue with your words. „I saw some shops when we were eating out and I... I wanted to prepare something.“

„Prepare what?“

„Something for you. It is a surprise don’t ask so much!“

„You don’t have to go to the market on your own just write down what you need and I will get someone to buy it for you.“ He challenges you with a tilt of his head and you could slap this fucking smile out of his face in this moment. He’s always so smart.

Come up with something.

You look sadly to the ground and your arms fall to your side. „I knew you wouldn’t say yes. I don’t think anyone should buy something like this for me. It is just too embarrassing.“

Hong Joong, who pretends to not listen to your conversation, awkwardly caughs and starts to whistle.

San frowns and suddenly opens his eyes wide at the thoughts that are running in his mind. „Oh, I mean, if you mean that... and you found something you really want... it will be an exception! And Hong Joong is coming with you!“

You fall into his arms and place a chaste kiss on his lips surprising the two of you. With a last glance San winks at you and let’s you go to get to the market - a bewildered Hong Joong quick in your steps.

Hong Joong really likes to make conversation so you don’t stop him when he gets into his own world talking about the things he likes and is interested in. Maybe like this it would be easier to find what you’re searching for.

„Oh, look! There’s a shop for artists! Oh and there!“

„You can go to the store if you want. Here’s the lingerie shop.“ You smile at him but the concierge frowns and debates with himself. He shouldn’t leave you alone any second but the shops were literally located across from eachother.

„Thirty minutes and we meet here again?“ You shake his hand and say ‚deal‘ watching the enthusiastic cat rushing over the street. You wait until he’s inside the shop to run down the street and get more to the place where merchants would be. It was a whole chaos and too many people to even get a good look on all the sales booths.

You wander around trying to take a glimpse on everything they sell on the street and after fifteen minutes you plump down on a bench sighing exaggerated.

„I guess this was a dumb idea.“

Air is whistling through the flowers and lamps when you feel a shudder down your spine looking down into your lap to examine your fingers.

„The cat life suits you very well...“ You look up immediately feeling like time stopped when you see a the fabric of a hanbok and round eyes examining your body.

„Who are you?“

The man takes a step to your form and takes something from behind his back to show you. Your eyes widen and your hand immediately shoots out to reach for what the man holds in front of you but he’s quick to make it disappear and smiles at you mischievously.

You’re upset and stand up to point at the man. „You’re the mask seller! Oh my god I found you!“

He raises one of his eyebrows and licks his lips in excitement. „I also know a lot about you, dear (y/n). Oh, I mean... in a few days I have to call you my queen.“

You grit your teeth at his words. „If you’re here you know that this is not gonna happen. You want a soul, right mask seller? You can have Kang Yeo Sang‘s and my cat soul!“

He laughs out loud and waves with his hands in front of him to stop your excitement. „Wait a second there. Yeo Sang is kept in the dungeons and the king won’t let you get near the portal again. What makes you think I would make a contract with you?“

„I - can’t you help us to flee? I promise our souls will be yours!“

He shrugs with his shoulders and stars to circle your form his tail caressing your body in the process. His actions make you shudder and you suddenly feel very small in front of the man.

„I mean I can help you but the king is also my king. Why do you want to be human again? Isn’t it much more fun to have a tail and ears like us?“

You have problems to find the right words but look up confidently to Seong Hwa. „I have people I love and I want to get back to them. This isn’t my home and I didn’t have a say in anything that happens to me here, so... yes. I definitely don’t want to stay here as a cat.“

He tilts his head in interest. „If you think so.“ Suddenly like magic a paper appears in his hand and he makes a move with his index so it is flying in the air next to him. While you watch in awe he pulls out something like an ink cushion and looks at you promising.

„You have to sign as a cat with your paw.“

„Oh, I didn’t turn into a fully cat yet... I mean I don’t know how to.“

He smiles at you and gives you a little push so that you make a little roll. The ground moves closer in an instant and suddenly you look up to a much larger Seong Hwa now. You feel the wind caressing your fur and you scrunch your nose in awe letting out a little meow.

„That was easier than I thought.“

„Well, it’s the easiest way. Here.“ You push your little paw into the ink he holds down for you and place your imprint on the contract.

„Well done, little (y/n).“

„Wait, what about Yeo Sang and when will you get us out of here?“

„Yeo Sang already made a contract and about your escape... we will have to wait until the marriage day when there’s a lot of hustle and bustle in the kingdom.“

„Can you be more accurate?“

„Meet me here after the marriage ceremony when the party is in full swing. I will get Yeo Sang and then you can get out of the kingdom of cats.“

„Alright. I hope your plan is going to work out!“

„I promise you I will get you to the portal without someone stopping you and Yeo Sang will be there with you. Oh, you should get going now... I think the concierge noticed your absence.“

„Oh shit. Then I will see you soon and - thank you for helping us.“ He grins at you and waves goodbye.

„I almost forgot! Once you signed the contract and get back to the human world there’s no turning back! Also vice versa when with a human soul...”

In the distance you don’t hear him shouting his last words anymore but if it was on purpose only the mask seller knows.

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↺ back to navi

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[gretavanbitch]

Tangled up in blue 6-

Warnings- drinking, smoking, smut

Note- Hi loves, I just want to say thank you for all of the kind reception to this story. I am so glad you are enjoying it, and I hope you like the new chapter! also asks are open for imagines about any of the boys. 

~

The warmth of the bonfire surrounded the group, illuminating their faces with light. Penny sat close to Josh, a blanket wrapping around both of them. The night was midway through, hours of the usual alcohol related antics had long passed now there was a quiet calmness in the group. 

Both Penny and Josh. sit criss cross applesauce, Josh’s head leaning on Penny’s shoulder as they listened to Jake tell a story. He was describing the time that Sam made a bong in high-school ceramics. Giddy laughter shook Josh’s body, bittersweet memories of youth unfolding with the night. 

“He tried to convince Mrs. Reid that it was a watering can,” Jake chuckled, leaning back into his chair as he spoke. Penny smiled, imagining the trouble that the band got into as teenagers, and wishing she was there to see it herself. The remains of her tequila soda were floating around at the bottom of her cup, her third tequila soda that night. Both her and Josh had three drinks, a substantial buzz enveloping them both. 

“Hey Pen,” Josh spoke in a hushed whisper, his head still on her shoulder and eyes toward the fire. 

“Hey babe,” She whispered back, kissing the top of his head after she did. 

“Gimme some lovin,” he sighed, lifting his head and meeting her eyes before meeting her lips in a sweet kiss. His scent overwhelmed her senses, causing the light of the fire and the sounds of the group disappearing completely. The only thing that existed was him, and he was the only thing that mattered. Whenever he touched her, she melted. Whenever he spoke, she listened. And whenever he left, she broke. He was her world, and she could only hope that she was his. 

A gust of cool air sent a chill down Penny’s spine, reminding her that getting lost in her mind would only distract her from the important things. Like the beautiful soul next to her. 

“wanna go watch a movie?” Josh asked, nudging his nose against Penny’s softly. Penny hummed in response, reaching for his hand as he offered it to help her up from the seat. They muttered goodnights to everybody before making their exit up to the bedroom. 

When they reached the room, Josh flicked on the bedside lights and grabbed his laptop from the bag. Penny pulled down the blankets on the bed and patted the spot next to her softly. She was still wearing Josh’s grey hoodie and boxers, and he was wearing a white shirt and grey sweatpants. 

The white duvet cover ruffled slightly as Josh placed the laptop in his lap, clicking on the netflix tab. 

“Watcha wanna watch baby?” he asked. Penny sighed, nuzzling her head into the crook of his arm, wrapping her hands around his waist. 

“twilight, this is the perfect place to watch twilight,” Penny concluded, getting excited with her own idea. Josh chuckled, but clicked on the movie anyways. 

“anything for you, Pen,” He then pulled the blonde closer to him, resting his head on top of hers. 

After about 20 minutes of the movie, Josh’s eyes began to flutter closed, as his chest rose and fell steadily. 

“Hey Josh?” Penny spoke, just above a whisper. 

“mm?” he mumbled, half asleep. 

“do you ever see us settling down? like kids, and a dog, and a nice house, yanno?” Josh was more awake now, thinking deeply. Penny’s hand drew mindless circles on his stomach, her cheek resting against his chest. 

“I dunno, i’ve never been one for domesticity,” he thought “but I would do anything for you.”

“Aw Joshie, you going soft for me?” Penny teased, craning her neck up to jut her lips out at Josh. He rolled his eyes, chest shaking with his low chuckles. The dim light of the computer screen illuminated his face just enough to outline his face perfectly. He looked down at her through his lashes, smiling softly. 

“No, I just love you Pen,” He smiled, pulling her frame completely onto his chest, moving the laptop to the side as he did. 

“I love you too Josh,” Then she kissed him, running her fingers through his curls lightly. He smiled against her, pulling her chest closer to him. His hands ran over her waist and down to her butt, squeezing it lightly. Penny moved her legs over his frame to straddle him, running her tongue against his bottom lip as she did. This elicited a sigh from Josh, his erection growing under Penny’s core. 

After a few minutes, she pulled back momentarily, peeling her hoodie off to reveal her bare chest. Josh caught his lip between his teeth, eyes half closed and darkened with lust. 

“you’re so pretty, baby,” Penny sighed, running her hands down his jaw. Josh just groaned in response, pulling her back in for a heated kiss. She then removed his shirt, and peppered kisses down his collarbone, biting softly as she did. He sighed, running his hands through her slightly messy hair. The sounds of the rest of the band outside the window could still be heard, but they felt a million miles away. 

An idea then popped into Penny’s head and she smiled a devilish grin as she got on her knees next to Josh’s frame. He raised his eyebrows, running his hand down her back lovingly as she got comfortable on her knees. Her eyes met his as she palmed him through his sweat pants, his breathing hitching in his throat in reaction. His eyes fluttered shut with a smile on his face. She bit her lip, pulling his member out of his boxers. Her mouth salivated at the sight of him. He was perfect, longer than you would expect and thicker too. She thumbed over his tip, gathering precum as she did. He sighed, taking his own lip in his teeth. 

She then licked a stripe up his length, wrapping her hand around his base. Her tongue swirled around his tip before her lips wrapped fully around him, slowly lowering her head. Josh let out a whimper, holding her hair softly as she began to bob. After a few minutes Josh’s breathing became more eratic and his hips began to jut up, causing Penny to gag a few times. 

“fuck baby stop,” he moaned, “I need to be in you.” 

Penny grinned, removing herself off of him. Josh immediately and aggressively crashed his lips against hers, gripping her hips tightly. He then ran a few fingers through her heat, inserting two. 

“mm so wet for me, mama.” 

Josh then flipped Penny over so he was now hovering over her. He kissed her nose softly, pushing her hair behind her ear. So beautiful, he thought. He removed her boxers, softly running his hands down the dips of her hips. Every part of her was perfect. The stretch marks that ran down her hips, the beauty marks that decorated her face, and his favorite part, her smile. The way that her lips curled up just enough to reveal her teeth was his favorite sight in the whole world. To him, she was his world. 

He kissed down her breasts, stopping to appreciate each one. She hummed in response, smiling and running her hands through his hair. He then lined himself up at her entrance, pausing momentarily to tease her clit with his tip, eliciting a gasp from her. He met her lips once more, pushing himself into her deeply. They moaned in unison, her nails tracing down his back harshly. He started with a steady pace. Her chin was tilted to the sky and his head was buried in the crook of her neck, both panting and whining. 

“look at me baby,” Penny cried, getting closer to reaching her own peak. He rasped a groan, meeting her eyes. Her eyes were half shut, closing occasionally with a particularly deep thrust. Penny’s vision then became blurry, legs shaking, and a string of profanities falling out of her lips as she came. Josh followed suit only seconds later, moaning loudly and collapsing onto penny. 

For a few minutes the only sounds to be heard in the room were Josh and Penny’s heavy breathing and the light wind outside the window. Josh lay on his stomach, arms wrapped around Penny’s frame. She played with his hair softly as his breathing became slower, lulling him to sleep. She followed suit soon after, welcoming the serenity of sleep next to Josh’s warm frame. 

~

Streams of golden light ran wild through Josh’s hair. The breeze from the open window jostled the curtains softly, causing a chill to run down Penny’s exposed chest. She yawned quietly, prying Josh’s arms off of her frame. Her bare feet padded against the floor, picking up one of Josh’s white shirts and her boxers from last night. 

She brushed her teeth and washed the makeup that she neglected to remove last night from her face. The cold wood of the stairs creaked softly under her feet as she made her way to the kitchen. She could hear the sound of voices as she rounded the corner, yawning once again. 

“Well well well, look who it is,” Sam smiled into his coffee cup from his seat at the counter. Penny laughed, flipping him off as she poured two cups of coffee. 

Jake and Sam shared a knowing glance for a moment before Jake spoke, “did you have a good night last night?” he snorted into his coffee. 

“It was fine, why?” Penny asked absentmindedly stirring cream into Josh’s coffee. 

“oh nothing, you should just be the singer on our new album, you got some pipes,” Sam laughed. Penny’s eyes bugged out of her head and her hand clamped over her mouth. 

“oh shit,” she laughed. Just as the laughter was dying down, she heard the pattering of footsteps down the stairs. Josh emerged in his boxers, head a fluffy mess. He rubbed his eyes as he sat down on the stool next to penny, thanking her for the coffee with a kiss on the cheek. 

“what’s so funny guys,” he questioned as everyone, including Penny giggled quietly. 

“Josh, everyone heard us last night,” Penny laughed, rubbing her temples. 

Josh leaned back, hands up against his head and a proud grin on his face. “whoops,” he smiled. Penny just shook her head, smiling and slightly embarrassed. The morning progressed into a slow and lazy tempo, breakfast taking them an hour to finish eating. The group was now haphazardly lounging in the living room, Scarface playing on the TV. Josh was sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch with penny’s head on his lap. Jake and Danny shared the couch, while Sam was out picking up the girls at the airport. Penny was excited to finally have some more feminine energy in the group. Carly, Emily, and Dana were all going to be joining them on tour for another week and a half then they all would be returning to work, including Penny. Her heart ached at the thought of leaving Josh again, but she hoped to document as much of it as she could through her lens. 

Halfway through the movie, Penny needed a smoke. She grabbed her pack and headed towards the back door. The soft pattering of rain sent a chill down her spine, causing her to wrap her arms around her frame. Josh was inside, totally engrossed in the film, and she was okay that he wasn’t joining her. She needed just a moment alone, a moment of quiet. Once she returned to Nashville, she would be alone again. There would be no beautiful mornings of golden sunlight shining on Josh’s face, or quick kisses while he cooked dinner. What is the point of living if you aren’t with the one you need? No, she couldn’t think like that. She was more than Josh’s girlfriend and she knew it. She was an artist and so was he, but sometimes it’s hard to get motivation outside of the beauty of love. She crushed her smoke in the ashtray and opened the sliding door, feeling slightly unsettled by her thoughts. The only aspect of comfort coming from the knowledge that the girls would be here soon, she could talk to them. 

Lunch arrived with homemade sandwiches by Danny. Everyone was eating and talking loudly, enjoying eachothers company when Sam finally made his way back to the house with the girls. She could barely get out a word before Carly enveloped her in a huge bear hug. She laughed, squeeking out a greeting before hugging both Dana and Emily very tightly as well. Everyone said their hello’s before the girls found their way to their designated boy, the soft lull of romance filling the air. 

Josh smiled into Penny’s hair as they watched the couples bathe in each other’s presence. She sat on his lap at the dining room table, leaning back into him with his arms wrapped around her. When it reached two in the afternoon, the boys began to prepare for the show that night, gathering special picks and tamborines up. 

The boys would be heading to the venue a few hours earlier than the girls, not wanting them to have to sit around while they do soundcheck and work on mechanical aspects of the show. Penny was grateful of this, knowing she could use some girl time right now. 

“I’ll see you in a few hours,” Penny smiled, kissing Josh sweetly as he hugged her goodbye. 

“I’ll text you for outfit advice,” he winked as he made his way out to the car that would take them to the venue, leaving the girls with the rental. The girls agreed to spend a few hours alone in their own rooms, most of them were still jet lagged and needed a good nap. When it hit six, everyone slowly emerged from their rooms, makeup bags in hand. 

“alright bitches,” Carly spoke, putting her hands firmly on her hips, “let’s pregame and talk shit.” Everyone yelled out in agreeance, gathering their makeup and drinks of choice to gather in the living room. 

“So ms Penny,” Dana began “things seem to be getting pretty serious with Josh.” She wiggled her eyebrows as she primed her face. Penny smiled, spraying her face with rosewater. 

“yeah I think we are,” She responded, forming her lips into a thin line as she rubbed product into her skin. 

“well, I support it. You both look really happy,” Emily smiled, patting Penny’s knee softly. 

“thanks guys,” Penny smiled. Her mind drifted for a moment, remembering the gaping trench in her gut. She remembered the fact that she simply cannot process leaving Josh for more than a day. 

Silence filled the group for a few moments, everyone focused on their own makeup and drinks. 

“I actually have something I wanted to ask you guys,” Penny sighed, placing her eyeshadow brush down harshly. They all nodded, waiting for her to continue speaking. “I go home next week, and well i’m terrified because last time I was alone I completely shut down,” Her eyes welled, she quickly dabbed the tears away, not wanting to ruin her makeup. “I feel like I don’t exist when Josh isn’t with me.” 

She finally looked up to meet the faces of the other girls. Their faces were sympathetic, they stared at her like she was a hurt baby deer, helpless. Dana finally spoke up, breaking the silence. 

“We all feel like that babe,” everyone nodded in unison, frowns on their faces, “It just gets easier with time, you have to find ways to distract yourself and grow comfortable with yourself.” 

“yeah, and remember whenever they are on tour, all of us four are alone, so just give one of us a call and we’ll be there,” Emily said quietly, rubbing a hand down Penny’s back lovingly. 

“thanks guys, seriously I love you all,” Penny chuckled, enveloping them all in a hug. 

“We love you, now lets get drunk for real this time,” Carly responded, pouring everyone tequila shots. 

~

GUYS! sorry for the delay on this chapter, I am hoping to update again this week! hope you liked it :)

[anika-ann]

Attached: Words We Don’t Mean

(...and Those We Do)

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader   Word count: 7950 👀

Summary: Your parents decide to visit for Thanksgiving, which alone is a trial. 

The fact that they haven’t met Steve yet and they have no clue who he is… yeah, you better brace yourself for a storm.

A/N: Attached: Words We Don’t Mean (and Those We Do) is a one-shot to the Attached series. Technically, you can read it as a standalone.

A/N: In the Stockings fic, I mentioned that no one in their household talked about (last) Thanksgiving. Here’s why. Also: I named the parents Paul and Jane, it’s enough of a mess to work around with nameless reader; if that offends you, sorry, feel free to move on from this fic.

Warnings: angst, parents-daughter fight, mention of sexual relationhips and of using one’s body to earn money (negative view), mild flashback, emotional H/C, swearing, sprinkles of fluff and Disney

Story masterlist

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“Sweetheart, please, sit down for just a second,” Steve requested gently; however, there was no mistaking the drop of amusement in his voice.

You hummed in acknowledgement of his words and continued scrubbing the bathtub clean.

Everything had to be perfect. Had to be. You bought the tinniest of the giant turkeys yesterday – just so you wouldn’t have to eat leftovers for a month –, ingredients for the stuffing, potatoes and cranberry sauce. Your mum had promised to stop by somewhere to get four slices of a pumpkin pie. But cooking was on your list later today; first you needed to make sure that the apartment would shine with cleanness.

Not that you considered yourself a neat freak, thank you very much… maybe occasionally. And Steve? Yeah, he was more of a neat freak than you were and now he was telling you to rest and take it easy? Uh-huh, nope.

Nope, because… your parents -- gosh, your parents.

“Honey-“

Your head snapped to him as he bounced off of the doorframe, soft steps leading him right to you.

“Did you just call me honey?” you asked incredulously.

Not that you didn’t like it, it was just-- you were Steve’s sweetheart, his babygirl, his good girl… now honey? That was new and frankly, it might have freaked you out a bit.

Also, your heart skipped a frantic beat upon looking at him.

Damn, you forgot again about what he had done yesterday and it always startled you to see him like that. Too unusual – not bad-looking by any means, just… unusual.

Steve chuckled as he crouched to you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and cupping your mildly sweaty cheek. He grimaced a bit at your surprised tone.

“Not a fan?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, hun, it’s just that… it’s a bit ominous, the change.”

One corner of his lips rose at your choice of a petname. “That’s because you’re freaking out and I need you to calm down a bit, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you scoffed, rather offended. Mostly because he was right – but also because he was being a damn hypocrite.

“Oh, am I? Me? Did I spend about an hour in front of the mirror yesterday, trying and almost failing to solve the dilemma whether I should or shouldn’t shave off my beard?”

Steve’s face turned entirely sour at your snarky remark.

“Don’t be mean, it’s a valid concern to-- I don’t want them to hate me,” he murmured and dropped his gaze in shame along with his hand, seemingly shrinking into himself, his insecurity returning.

You sighed and mentally cursed yourself for bringing it up again.

You dropped the brush to the tub with a thud and lost one of your gloves, wiping the ew feeling onto your old sweats before you tried to smoothen the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“They’re gonna love you, Steve,” you assured him again, letting you fingers travel over his clean-shaved jaw, lightly pulling at his cheek to make him smile again. “I miss the beard, not gonna lie, but you do have an extremely sweet boy-next-door look now, you are my handsome, funny, smart as hell guy, who’s somehow all grown up and has life stuff figured out and you’re making me happy. You’re the epitome of the guy a girl wants to bring home to meet her parents.”

Despite slightly panting from exertion, you took care to sound as convincing as possible, pushing away your own worries for a bit.

Steve was your perfect guy, perfection incarnated; you weren’t worried about him not making an impression… except for the fact that Steve did have a few years on you and worked at the uni and—well.

Yet, you couldn’t but dread the moment your parents realized that you were everything but perfect since they let you loose on the world. You had never been the daughter to show off like the epitome of everything good and wholesome, but you always tried your best to please them…. Now though? Darting your professor? Even if he wasn’t exactly your professor?

Yeah, you didn’t think that a spotless apartment could make up for that, but it helped to ease your anxiety when you kept lying to yourself that it just might.

Steve grasped your palm in his, planting a tiny kiss there – a gesture to warm your heart, always – his lips once again curled up a fraction as his gaze met yours, his mesmerizing blues kind and hopeful.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

And with the way he was looking at you – you finally figured it out. Just a fleeting thought and an answer to an unspoken question you had been failing to grasp at since yesterday; it escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Gosh, you look like a Disney prince!”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide, laughter erupting from his throat and he pulled you to him in one swift motion, falling on his ass with you in his arms in the process and nearly getting crushed by you. Clearly, he did not care one bit as he shook with laughter, kissing your nose, your cheeks and finally your lips despite your protests that you were gross.

“That’s golden! Oh babygirl, you’re the-”

“Tell me I’m Cinderella, I dare you,” you grumbled, but Steve just shook his head and kissed you breathless, fingers of one hand curled around your nape to guide you closer, to breathe you in, while his other hand stayed wrapped around your waist.

You tried your best not to touch him with your gloved hand, having it ridiculously stretched out to nowhere in order not to spot his clothes, but your free hand clutched at his t-shirt with enthusiasm.

His lips left yours only when the world started spinning and your mind turned blank besides the thought of Steve’s mouth being on yours and how much you loved it when he stole all the breath from your lungs – and how much you always missed him when he withdrew.

You stared at him, dumbstruck, as he watched you like you were the eighth wonder of the world, your messy self in baggy clothes, your heart growing three times its size, your insides positively tingly from the heated make-out session.

Steve was smiling again too at last, brushing your nose with his and planting one last soft kiss on your lips.

“Okay, babygirl, now hand over the brush.”

You had to blink several times, your oh so lazy brain taking its time to realize what he said. Huh? Also, did he just said it as if he was asking you were a robber holding a hostage on gunpoint and he was asking you to lay down your weapon?

The thought made you internally snort.

“Why?” you demanded, suspicious.

“Because I’m taking over.”

You instantly shook your head. “No-“

“Yes. I promise I’ll make sure it’s spotless-“

Okay, yeah, that was one of our arguments against him doing the clean-up. However, there was one more. “But you still have papers to grade and lessons to prepare!”

“And you want to cook too and then we’ll have to clean up the kitchen. And you’ll want to take a shower and and and. Papers can wait. Gimme the brush.”

“You make it sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction… or I am,” you muttered, but you kissed his cheek – such a strange feeling, you truly missed the sensation of his beard scraping your lips – and climbed out of his lap with a meek and cautious thank you. He cackled at your antics, but quickly fished out a new pair of gloves from the bathroom drawer and started working.

You swallowed your smart remark about him being the Cinderella now. Mostly because his gesture was one of the sweetest things and really – seeing Steve scrubbing the bathtub might not be the sexiest thing in the world… but it kinda was.

It pulled at your heartstrings as you imagined that this might be how it would always be; you and Steve, settling together, taking care of the household, then cuddling on the couch—the domesticity you hadn’t always been sure you craved.

Now you were certain of it; but to get to that, you had to survive your parents’ visit first.  

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You had somewhat stayed in touch with your parents, mostly with your mum; you two had been calling on a so-so regular basis, sometimes with video, and both her and your father were obviously aware that you had a boyfriend (gee, that sounded kinda trivial, a boyfriend). In fact, Steve played a huge role in them deciding to purchase their plane tickets… besides wanting to see New York City… and you.

The thing was… you had managed to keep Steve’s identity secret so far; you never used a videocall when he was around, so your mum only had heard his voice, sweet and polite in the most Steve fashion possible, you sort-of danced around his age and his job. Yeah, you found it strange as well that you kept it up so long, a divine intervention even; or maybe your mum simply had a good idea of your dirty secret all along and purposely didn’t probe.

Now, with your parents in the apartment, your dad’s eyes more on Steve than on you (your mum’s eyes wandered too, you noticed, but she had enough decency to show you she missed you first), you felt dread fill every cell in your body. Your heart was pounding in your chest with too much ferocity, your temples pulsing, your palms uncharacteristically sweaty and if it wasn’t for Steve’s warm hand on your lower back, its weight oh so comforting, you might spontaneously combust because of your nerves.

You were suddenly entirely grateful that Steve had shaved off his beard, was giving less of a an incredibly hot (and still very young, thank you very much) professor vibe and looked--- well, kinda like he could be your classmate.

But of course, of course the subject came up. Inevitably, after the small talk about your parents’ flight, about how their job was going and if they picked up a new hobby (…or heard some gossip), you and Steve became the centre of attention.

First, things went smoothly enough; you talked a bit about school, about Penny and some of your classmates and professors, about your part-time job. Steve had been subtly drawing small comforting circles on your thigh whenever he wasn’t eating and he in fact succeeded in lowering your heartbeat so much that you might appear even calm.

And then it oh so predictably went to shit.

Because apparently, your materialistic father had to ask Steve what he was studying and what his plan for his future career was.

“I actually finished my studies,” Steve admitted in an admirably dispassionate manner.

Meanwhile, your own heart started racing again, sending you to the verge of a cardiac arrest; your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, but a hint of a smile played in the corners of his lips in effort to remain polite… for now.

“Oh? Was that recently?”

You deflected that question by bringing up the pie and snatching Steve with you to bring it to the table since you two were the hosts.

The question forgotten, your mum – god bless her, she had caught up enough to know you did not want to discuss Steve’s age, even if it wasn’t that bad – asked about Steve’s field of study.

“History, minoring in pedagogics.”

“Oh? So you are a history teacher?” your dad chimed in and you swallowed as Steve confirmed that claim, walking straight into a death trap. You had seen it coming, you had, but you still winced when your father’s icy tone cut the almost festive atmosphere. “And it wouldn’t be that you’re more of a university professor, would it?”

His hand balled into a fist on the table, your mother’s lightly covering it as she whispered his name; the gesture of comfort, a silent plea for him to stay calm, didn’t quite work.

Steve, to his benefit, looked only a bit sheepish, meeting your dad’s eye with bravery worth of the Disney prince you had called him earlier that day. Also, with the same honesty… why hadn’t you agreed on lying to them again?

“It would, sir.”

“Oh. I don’t suppose then that it is a coincidence that you two met in school?” your dad continued and you sighed, your breathing progressively turning into a more and more of a difficult task with the anticipation of a storm.

“It is not, sir,” Steve replied calmly and you honestly didn’t know whether you should kiss him or punch him, unsure if his attitude made your father madder or not. “However-“

Your father’s gaze snapped to you, sharp and enraged; you felt yourself sink into your chair involuntarily, your mind travelling years back to the moments when he wasn’t pleased with you at all, yelled and sputtered words tasting of venom.

“Do you have any explanation for this inappropriate joke?” you father hissed, not caring he interrupted whatever Steve was about to say to your defence.

Your chest grew heavy, edges of your vision blurring subtly; your eyes burned and suddenly, you weren’t only remembering. You were reliving a memory, feeling like your child-self, like your teenage-self, being scolded for every imperfection; and there had been generous amount of those as you had been growing up.

Steve’s hand somehow slid under the table again, squeezing yours, a gentle wave of attempted comfort washing over you.

But it took one glance at him and you understood that silent support was not the only goal of his when he sought your touch.

His jaw was set tight, his grip a little too strong; he was trying to maintain composure, while not at all impressed with the tone your father was speaking with you.

Yet, Steve’s gesture did provide you with something you hadn’t had whenever you faced your father before; strength and true support, the essential reminder that you had done nothing wrong.

“Dad, this is not a joke,” you said, your voice shaking only slightly as you squeezed Steve’s hand back, “Steve and I are dating. Yes, he is teaching at the same college I study, but-“

A fist hit the table, causing the remaining tableware clank with the force behind the blow and you winced in fright, all muscles tensing in an instant.

“There is no ‘but’ applicable in this case!” your father spitted out, the anger in his voice making your guts twist, the sting in your eyes intensifying. “We help you to pay for school so you could study, not sleep around!”

Several things happened at once; your mother admonished your father, a level-headed whisper of his name. Your voice, too quiet as always when your father reprimanded you, tried to protest, to defend yourself.  And Steve’s patience ran out, his outrage at your father’s demeanour showing.

“Paul-“

“That’s not what’s-“

“Don’t talk to her like that!“

“You keep your mouth shut now,” you father snapped at Steve, pointing a finger at him accusingly before turning his rage towards you again, the deep disappointment in his eyes somehow more hurtful than the anger. “Is it that bad with your grades that you have to—to--- Jesus Christ.“

The world stopped for several frantic beats of your heart, everything else in standstill. Multiple sharp breaths were drawn in, but you didn’t think either of them was yours.

Your father’s unfinished sentence echoed in your ears as if from a terrible distance and just like that—just like that, you were thrown several months back to the days before your graduation.

Rogers’ whore

Bet she’ll get the highest score

The icy feeling that froze your bones and crystalized the blood in your veins made for a stark contrast to the few hot tears you were distantly aware of that were running down your cheeks.

Many had thought of you that you were a set of holes to fill for the professor in exchange for passing an exam or two, which was disgusting, deeply insulting and obviously wrong. But those people didn’t know you- they weren’t your blood.

Your own father was now seconds from calling you a whore. The dinner turned into a stone in your stomach as the verbal punch knocked all air from your lungs.

“Paul!” you heard a swift reproach, quickly followed by Steve’s voice, dangerously low in a threat. “I’m sorry, what did you just imply about her?”

“You zip it-“

“Paul!”

It felt like a fucking elephant stomped on your chest, the spiral of pity and despair, mocking voices swirling wildly, tossing you around with a quickening speed as the circles got smaller and smaller, as if you were circling down the drain, your breaths coming shorter and shorter too-

And yet your father still continued, ignorant to all warnings and your inner turmoil.

“That’s over, my dear. I refuse to support such disgusting thing. And you, I don’t see how it’s possible that you still have your job-“

“DAD!” a loud cry cut off the monologue and it took you a moment to realize that it was you who just snapped and yelled, despite the unmistakable addressing.

Your father stared at you in mute shock as you dared to interrupt him; and frankly, with the world spinning, your stomach twisted and your chest constricted with anxiety, you were shocked by your actions too.

It was the fact that he doubted Steve’s position at the uni, flashed through your mind, the way he insulted the man you loved and who deserved all the good things. Or maybe it was his fucking attitude towards Steve and you in general and you just finally reached your limit. You weren’t sure; but shit, this ended now.

The silence that fell on the room granted you a few moments to breathe and calm your frantic mind.

“He is not using me like some f-“ -fuckdoll- “-fling or whatever. And he’s not even my professor, he’s-“

“Like it matters!” you father snapped from his trance, spitting the words, a vein on his temple visibly popping up as he rose to his feet swiftly, nearly sending the chair flying to the ground.

You stared up at him, the coil of despair and rage in your gut burning hot as he literally looked down on you.

You hadn’t been ready for this. You hadn’t been ready for your father to despise you for being in a relationship with a great man, to judge you so harshly without being able to listen for a damn second.

“It DOES. But even if he was-“ you tried to explain again, losing patience and the ground under your feet too as Steve’s hand started practically crushing the bones of yours.

You could physically feel Steve trying to hold back and slowly succumb to his not so nice emotions no doubt swirling in him just like in you.

“How can you not see that’s he’s only looking to get his---” your father gestured wildly towards Steve and rather low and you could hear Steve’s teeth grinding at the implication. Your blood reached the boiling point. How dared he to- “-that he’s only seeking a physical thing-“

“That’s not what this is. I love your daughter-“ Steve emphasized, expression fiery, voice surprisingly measured for a man who you believed was one moment from punching your father.

“Sure you do, son, until something with long legs and tall heels walks by-“

Steve’s chair scrapped against the floor and you quickly laid a palm over his chest to stop him from jumping to his feet and succumb to his righteous anger.

“Steve-“ you whispered soothingly, seeing the light tremble to his hands, tendons dancing under his shirt with the effort to hold back.

“Paul, that’s enough,” your mother interjected, grabbing her husband’s wrist to keep him back as well.

“I do love your daughter, I respect her and I fully intend-“

Steve closed his eyes as he inhaled shakily to compose himself. In the very back of your mind, you spared a single thought to what he was going to say before he shook his head and looked your father dead in the eye again.

“-I am serious about her and I want to and will be with her as long as she’ll have me.”

You had two full seconds to sink into the gentle sentiment behind his words, to cherish how much he did respect your choices and strangely, how he still doubted he could be enough for you, before your father scoffed dismissively.

“Well, I hope you are serious, because if she comes crawling back in few weeks, the door and the account will be closed.” He shot you one disdainful look that made your heart stop before twisting his arm from your mother’s hold and stepping away from the table. “We’re leaving.”

Your eyes slipped shut, a fresh wave of hot tears painting your cheeks, all strength leaving your body, darkness enveloping your mind.

He was cutting you off. He was going to disown you no doubt; that much of a disappointment you were to him.

Your own father hated you.

Dull ringing filled your ears, muffling your mother’s low voice.

“I’m so sorry for his behaviour.” She sounded truly regretful, her voice quivering a bit, you thought. “I’ll talk to him about what he said. Thank you for the dinner, baby. It was nice to meet you, Steve, truly.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve responded firmly, his voice the only solid thing in the room. “I’ll—I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary, Steve. But thank you. I’ll call you, sweetheart.”

A low whisper about a promise fell from her lips next as she brushed your shoulder, but you couldn’t hope to understand what she was saying, the buzz of blood in your ears growing louder.

And then you knew she was gone along with your father. You knew because a warm hand touched yours, another gently wiping way the endless waterfall of your tears and then you were pulled to your feet and practically dragged to the couch in Steve’s protective embrace.

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You wouldn’t be able to tell how long you were drenching Steve’s shirt in tears, sobbing into his chest as he held you firmly and yet tenderly, whispering sweet nothings, words of comfort empty and yet so meaningful.

You couldn’t tell how long it took for the tremble subdue, for the sobs to turn into sniffles and then die out entirely.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” Steve whispered to your hair, caressing your scalp, your back the next, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know,” you creaked back, gripping the fabric of his shirt for one last time before you gathered your breath and courage to face him; you had to. You might be a mess, but it was vital that he heard you say this: “It’s not your fault.”

You withdrew slightly, meeting his eyes, so big and regretful, a bit watery as if he was the one crying. The corners of his lips, apparently having been turned down the whole time, twitched, his whole face twisting in a grimace; little sad, little defiant, but he didn’t protest even though you were certain that he wanted to.

Perhaps it was a testimony of how well you two fit, how your thoughts worked on the same wavelengths; you understood what he must have been thinking. If you were dating literally anybody else, this wouldn’t have happened.

So you had to assure him that you didn’t blame him; even if he did so himself. You didn’t have the energy to be angry with him for such thing. Mostly because that in a way, there was a tiny bit of truth in him thinking so.

“Don’t do that to yourself. I chose you. Yes, this relationship is on both of us… but we knew the risks and went for it anyway. And—it’s worth it, it’s just… fuck, this is so fucked up. I’m in such a mess now,” you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears burned in your eyes.

Steve’s fingers were quick to dry your cheeks, gently stroking, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We are, babygirl. We’re in this together. What’s mine is yours,” Steve said, determined. You couldn’t find yourself sharing his optimism, but his eyes locked onto yours, serious as his words. “We’ll figure it out. Find ways of saving more. Hell, if it comes to that, I’ll try to find a job that pays better-”

Your palms landed on his chest, pushing away, putting some distance between you; his hand dropped from your face.

Say WHAT?

“Absolutely not!” you protested instantly, sobering from your despair and letting indignation take over, ignoring entirely the voice in your head sweetly nudging you with the idea of what Steve was willing to give up for you. “I’ll drop off college before I let you give up being a professor, Steve-- you are made-“

“Not an option, sweetheart,” he shot back instantly, expression turning strict. “You leaving college is off the table.”

Mentally, you threw your hands up in the air, growing confused and frustrated by the minute.

“Why? How is that different from you finding a new job, giving up something you worked for so hard?”

“The difference is,” Steve raised his voice slightly, speaking slowly as if he wanted you to remember every word, “-that the chances are that I could come back at some point, that I might only lose a few years. You dropping off, on the other hand, would affect your whole future.”

The same exasperation you felt burned in his eyes now and you gulped, realization hitting you that… yeah, okay, that was a good point. But you hated it anyway.

“…okay, that’s a fair point. But I rather work three jobs and didn’t sleep at all than seeing you leave the university.”

“And work yourself to the ground? I don’t think so, babygirl,” Steve shook his head, just a smidge of patronizing which stung more than you would expect.

Obviously, he was presenting you with more of a feasible option, but you had a feeling that the primal instinct to be the provider played a role in his attitude too – and at any given moment besides this one you would like that; you were completely fine with him wanting to ensure you were secured, taking the larger portion of the burden on his shoulders.

Except now it reminded you of your father in the worst possible way despite knowing that the sentiment was nothing but sweet, no malice in his intentions. It chased tears into your eyes.

Steve’s expression instantly melted, panic flashing in his eyes as he must have figured out that this was not the right thing to say… or not the right way.

His hands were quick to frame you face, tender but unwavering, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s just… we’ll work it out, somehow, okay? We can even move out and share an apartment with someone else if we need to. Though you’re forgetting I used to pay this rent and bills on my own.”

Your lower lip quivered, your heart fluttering in fondness for this incredible man, your chest constricted at the idea of taking anything away from him, even if it was comfort. God, the distance he was willing to walk…

“You were living on school cafeteria food and ramen,” you mumbled, corners of your lips twitching upwards for the shortest moment.

Steve’s smile, on the other hand, was almost blinding, tight-lipped but honest, thumbs sweeping at the tears that appeared yet again.

“See, another possibility to save money. Don’t cry, my pretty girl…” he pleaded lowly, kissing your nose before shaking his head lightly. “Or cry if you need to. I’m here, sweetheart, okay? Whatever you need.”

Shit, your heart couldn’t hope to contain this amount of love-

How could anyone ever doubt Steve was the right man for you? The best man? The most wonderful loving human being? How did your father think he was just looking for a mindless fuck?

“I love you,” you whispered hoarsely, smiling through your tears. “Fuck my father. He can’t bully me into being his perfect daughter by cutting me off, can’t make me behave. There’s nothing wrong with me loving you.”

“Or me loving you.”

There was no questioning his honesty; it was written all over his features, his irises bright with emotion. And yet, you worried your teeth over your lower lip, insecurity, your old friend, crawling into your head.

“You do, really? Even with my asshole of a dad?”

You didn’t mean it. Entirely. Though momentarily, your dad was being an asshole, not for the first time.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re my everything,” Steve promised, releasing your face in order to tuck messy loose strands of your hair behind your ears.

“That’s the sweetest thing to say, but you can’t exactly sell me to put food to your mouth-“ Oh. Even though… maybe that would be an option? “Well, technically-“

All the gentle warmth radiating from Steve’s expression turned ice cold, smile dropping so fast it startled you.

“Don’t you even-“

“Hey, why not, I mean how much do you think-“

“Stop that right now!” Steve’s voice cut you off, razor sharp voice as if cutting into your skin.

You flinched at the mental blow on instinct, air stuck in your throat, muscles in your back straightening enough to inflict a sharp pounding in your head.

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling painstakingly slow, as if he got punched in his gut too. His fists on your sides clenched and unclenched, Adam’s apple bobbing. When he looked at you again, it was obvious he realized he had scared you – and that he regretted not keeping his anger in check.

“I’m sorry, babygirl, I didn’t mean for it to come out this harsh.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, focusing on nothing but your breathing and keeping yourself from sobbing again as you were reminded of your father’s yelling. With each long second, you could see Steve’s face twisting and his body sinking into the couch in shame.

Well. As much as you hated him snapping at you, you had to give it to him – it sobered you up. Frankly, you didn’t blame him for being so harsh.

But you were also aware that Steve was a painfully kind and gentle soul and he never wanted to be rough with you… well, except under certain very consensual special circumstances.

“I know,” you forced an unconvincing smile, laying your palm on his cheek, affection Steve was quick to lean into with a sigh – probably both relieved and content. “I’m sorry for talking stupid.”

He covered your hand with his, carefully manipulating it so he could brush his lips over your palm.

“You’re not, not really. Our heads are a mess, rightfully so. I know people still do that, some purely by choice, but—I don’t want that for you, ever. That’s the same level on a will-never-happen scale like you not continuing your masters. Not an option for me. You’re my girl and if someone’s gonna change their habits, it’s gonna be me first.”

The surge of affection at his words filled your stomach with butterflies, wrapping around you like the softest and warmest comforter.

Great, now you wanted to cry for a whole different reason.

“I don’t deserve you,” spilled from your lips before you could think twice. Steve’s sweet smile made its return.

“Other way around, babygirl. Other way around…. Now how does a bath and a bed sound?”

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Steve hadn’t planned on you and him having a bath when making the suggestion. He found a bath-bomb even and few candles so the light wouldn’t have to be on and hurt your previously teary eyes.

But then you looked at him with wide eyes, pleading and so vulnerable, a single look so heartfelt that it would make the devil’s black heart break and the angels weep – and he was done for, sinking into the bath with you even if the bathtub was not meant for more than one person, especially when one of them was of Steve’s built.

He couldn’t tell you no. Less so after the shitstorm the dinner had turned into.

Yes, Steve’s own emotions were running high, anger, disappointment and self-hatred he knew he couldn’t confess to, certainly not at the moment, but you. You were the priority here because he had a feeling that no matter how overwhelmed he felt, he had nothing on you.

The ceramics of the tub was hard against his back and against his knees at the side, but you fit into his arms and between his legs so perfectly and contentedly that he wouldn’t dare to complain. Head in the crook of his neck, your back to his chest, you melted into him, eyes closed, fingers absently and yet affectionately running over his forearms above water, sometimes along his calves.

You didn’t talk much, mostly repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that you loved him – something he found himself echoing every time – and it slipped through your lips too that while you would never change the fact that you picked him… you were sorry for being a disappointment to your father.

At that, something in Steve’s chest cracked and he swore to himself – that he would never ever be the cause of you feeling like a disappointment. And why would he – you were his perfect girl, his best girl. As much as he regretted that he indirectly did have a hand in making you feel like this now, he wouldn’t change who you were to each other and who you were had he had the chance. Never.

What he could do was to hold you tighter after your admission and whisper more sweet nonsense that made perfect sense to him to your ear.

By the time the water got cold, you were practically asleep, completely groggy, pliant. Somehow, you both climbed from the tub without sustaining any injury. He might have been holding you upright a bit as you both brushed your teeth and pulled on a pyjama.

You fell asleep almost instantly, face hidden in Steve’s chest, few stray tears dampening his sleepshirt as you mumbled one more love confession into the fabric.

“I love you, Steve... I’m sorry… you have to put up with such bullshit…” Your words slurred but Steve didn’t need to hear them to understand what you were saying.

He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the sting of guilt in his gut.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, earning a hum that might have been a sign of contentment… or you being entirely drained. “Let’s go to sleep now. Clearer head in the morning.”

Another hum and then nothing but your deep slow breathing, the last remnants of tension leaving your body.

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Steve didn’t think he would follow you to the dreamland anytime soon, too agitated, thoughts swirling wildly in his head, but he caught himself snapping back to consciousness at some point, unsure when he fell asleep – and what woke him up.

An intrusive buzzing on your nightstand provided him with the answer, your phone lit up.

Steve spared you one glance as you stirred only to nuzzle deeper into his frame, sighing.

As carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, he stretched over you and checked who was calling.

Blood crystalized in his veins, heart sent into frenzy as he read a simple short word.

Mom.

He squeezed the side button, silencing the vibration as he pondered what to do; and yet, even as his heart jumped to his throat – as if he was a teenager about to face his girlfriend’s parents after he took her virginity – he had already made a decision, accepting the call as you sank into the cushions without him as a pillow.

He slipped from the room as silently and quickly as possible, announcing himself before you mother could say something not meant for his ears.

“Oh. Hello, Steve,” your mother greeted him, clearly surprised – but much to Steve’s relief, not angry.

He could do this, he could talk to your mother even with the lump in his throat; could have been much worse. Could have been your father and Steve wasn’t so sure if he would manage him. For one, he would hate to be reminded, once again, of what the numerous hate letters had told him about being a total perv; for two, Steve feared he might exchange words with your father that couldn’t have been taken back and would seal the damage done to the relationship with your parents .

“I’m sorry, ma’am. She fell asleep and—I can wake her, of course, but-“ He stumbled over his words and was immensely grateful when your mother saved him from his misery; more se when she said what she did.

“-but she had a rough night. We all did. I’m okay to talk to you, Steve.”

“Alright… how can I help, ma’am?”

“Tell me how bad she is, Steve? She stopped crying before she falling asleep?” the woman on the other side asked softly, causing Steve’s heart to squeeze in a painful memory of his own kind mother, God bless her soul.

And perhaps it was that very memory that encouraged him to speak openly, the genuine worry of a mother who cared deeply for her child, her heart full of love.

How such woman could end up with such an asshole and stay with him was beyond Steve’s understanding, but he certainly wasn’t in position to judge the choices of the women in your family – after all, he was your choice and there was a long line of people who looked at the two with disdain.

“For a while,” Steve admitted with a sigh, his gaze automatically flickering towards the bedroom. “She’s—she feels like she disappointed you in a way, she’s scared of the what’s next, but she’s angry too, because she doesn’t think she did anything wrong by being with me.”

And Steve thought the same… to a point. Didn’t matter that sometimes he would find himself in a dark place where he simply awaited the moment you’d change your mind and left him; for someone your age, with better looks, someone smarted, someone funnier, someone who didn’t have to shave off his beard just so your parents made it through the front door without yelling.

Such gloomy images always left him more desperate than he was comfortable admitting and with searing jealousy in his gut.

He needed you. Yes, he’d survive if you left – but he was certain that you’d take his heart with him, leaving him unable to fall in love ever again… or to feel whole, for that matter.

“She wouldn’t leave you to get her financial support back, Steve,” sounded gently on the other end of the line and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in alarm, brief wonder if he had said any of his latest thoughts out loud.

He supposed he didn’t – your mother was just too intuitive, just like his used to be. He gulped against his dry throat, suddenly guilty for – in a way – forcing you to leave them.

“…I suppose not… I’m sorry if-- it was never my intention to steal your daughter from you, but I’m- I’m not gonna pretend I mind that she would rather be with me than had her money.”

“This is not your doing, Steve, don’t you think I don’t know that,” she continued, a subtle smile in her voice, Steve thought. “And it’s good that she’s willing to make this choice. We wouldn’t want the bride to get cold feet, after all.”

Steve’s heart stopped altogether, he was sure of it. Colour him mortified.

How the hell—but- she couldn’t--- he hadn’t proposed yet and he- what?

His stomach twisted in a tight knot. He couldn’t but ask, voice barely above whisper.

“…how did you know?”

“You stopped yourself mid-sentence, Steve. And as cliché as it sounds, you had fire in your eyes, defending my daughter. It is clear to me that you are serious about her, that you love her, and from the little I heard about you, you are the kind of man who would put a ring on it to seal the deal.”

You mother was definitely smiling now and Steve found himself doing the same, even if the lift of his lips turned sour.

“I would have asked for parents’ blessings, but…”

“I give it,” she was quick to assure him and Steve’s breath hitched, his chest puffing with pride, filling with endless relief and joy. Your mother approved of him. Even knowing who he was, how old he was, how—she was willing to give him her blessing! “You seem like a good man, Steve.”

Steve was both embarrassed and ridiculously proud when he realized he was blinking against tears gathering in his eyes, enormous weight falling from his shoulders.

“That, uhm—that means a lot, truly,” he choked out, swiftly clearing his throat, the embarrassment definitely winning now. He had to get it together before he gave out how weak he could be in front of your mother… she had given her blessing; she could easily take it back.

“I like you, Steve. You’re a good blend of an old-fashioned and modern man. Don’t mess it up and keep my daughter happy.”

“I will try my best, ma’am,” he declared in an instant, meaning every word.

A sigh sounded from the speaker. “That’s all I ask for… now the less happy reason to call. I talked to Paul, but he… I’m sorry, Steve, as for now, he still isn’t fond of you.” That didn’t surprise Steve, but it hurt nonetheless. Then again, he was grateful that your mother tried to put in a good word for him; that meant a lot too. “He only agreed to pay for three more months.”

Steve’s free hand balled into fist, the other clutching the phone considerably tighter as hot surge of anger flooded his veins.

Three more payments. As if the relationship with your family was a damn job contract and this was the notice period.

Steve was sure he was going to be sick.

“Thank you. That’s… we appreciate it,” he managed to grit through his teeth, trying his damnest to remember that he wasn’t mad at the sweet woman – only at her husband.

“You really are a good man, Steve. You’re good for her. I’m glad she found you.”

Steve would once again be entirely joyful at being at least your mother’s favour, but he heard you call out his name from the bedroom, low, hoarse and utterly confused and all he could focus on was the idea of you, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair and still adorable, looking for him in the dark room with a pout to your lips.

“Steve?” your mother called out unsurely and Steve snapped from his reverie.

“Sorry, uhm, she’s awake-- do you want me to hand you over or-“ he blurted out swiftly, hoping the answer would be no as he couldn’t wait to crawl back to bed with you.

“No, just tell her I called. I believe you two have things to talk about. Take care of my daughter, Steve. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jane, Steve,” she offered kindly just as Steve heard the soft patting on your fluffy socks on the floor.

“Yes, Jane,” he corrected himself then, unable to contain the satisfaction as he tested the name on his tongue. “Thank you, really. Goodnight.”

He ended the call as you emerged from the bedroom, squinting to the low light, your eyes instantly finding him – he automatically smiled for you, unsubtly splaying his arms wide. You didn’t hesitate, aiming straight into his embrace even if it was at snail pace.

It was funny and strange and wonderful how Steve still loved simply holding you, his heart calmer the moment he found you melting into his frame. Christ, he loved you… and clearly, your mother noticed; he was so obvious, that-

“You were gone,” you muttered into his chest discontentedly, nuzzling into him and Steve automatically cradled you to him tighter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admitted bluntly, propping your chin on his torso to look up at him, eyes growing wide and surprisingly soft with emotion. “More so because I was talking stupid and crying into your shirt instead of comforting you after my dad accused you of the things that--- those things that aren’t right.”

Steve felt the painful nudge to his consciousness, because he knew there always would be some truth to ‘those’ words; but you were here to dilute the pain and make it all better. Your care for his well-being served like a shield for the sticks and stones for now at least, when you were the priority. You had it worse at the moment, no matter what his former colleague had accused him of in those hate letters – and now your father.

“Hey, no. Don’t worry about me now.”

You gazed into his eyes, pushing on your tiptoes to peck his lips and the small gesture of affection was like a balm to his soul, much like your words.

“But I do. Always. I love you, Steve… I’m sorry we can’t catch a break… but we’ll… somehow, we’ll push through, right?” you whispered, hopeful and wistfully determined and Steve could only nod, feeling the corners of his lips rising.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re my girl.”

“And you’re my guy. My prince charming,” you hummed, cradling his unusually smooth cheek, irises full of wonder, the sensation was as foreign to you as it was to him. But it was your babble that made him chuckle, the nickname that seemed to catch on; you were too cute for words. “Guess I am Cinderella after all and somehow you accidentally fell in love with me.”

“Damn right I did,” he confirmed, brushing your forehead with his lips before tugging you back to the bedroom. “Not all that glitters is gold.”

“True. Though you might have some glitter from the bathbomb on you.”

“Cheeky girl.”

He didn’t bother pretending to be offended or grumpy; he was simply too happy to see some of your snarky teasing side making its return, that was always a good sign.

“I try… but really, are you okay?”

Steve didn’t respond at first, climbing to the bed, manoeuvring you to his arms where you belonged and fit so naturally. Only when the lights were out and you were both comfortable, he replied, truthfully.

“I will be. I have you. Plus, your mum seems to be okay with me.”

More than okay, apparently.

Steve’s heart fluttered with a bit of nerves as his mind wandered to the ring he kept in the very room you fell asleep every night.

“As she should,” you hummed, sounding very pleased. “She has a nose for good people. And you’re the best.”

“After you at least.”

“Best man, then,” you argued playfully and Steve was perfectly content to have you think that. It would play in his favour when he would finally find the courage to sink to one knee in front of you.

“Well, I’m certainly a lucky one… I have the best woman.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. Love you,” you whispered, kissing his chest over the fabric of his sleepshirt and sighing blissfully. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too.”

If you only knew how much…

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S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

Stockings (next in timeline)

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Wink wink. I once again stretched this quite a bit, but hopefully you reached this very end without skipping something ;)

Thank you for reading and extra thanks if you happen to like, reblog and/or comment. Stay safe and happy!

(Also, to American friends: I hope you'll have better Thanksgiving than this ;) )

[probablyevilideasafterdark]

An Earth Trans in Urtrament, Chapter 6

Ok, I finally decided to cut the chapter I'm working on off at the point I felt like was the natural break point, and chapter length be damned. It's shorter than previous chapters, but still seven-ish Google Doc pages, so it's not like it's a stub of a chapter or anything.

This chapter moves towards the smutty part of my intention with this fic, but is still SFW.

Chapter 7 may take less time than this one did, even if it's longer, because what will be chapter 7 was originally part of this chapter, and so I already have a good bit written past where it felt like it was right to cut off chapter 6. But I'm still working on it, so I don't know when it will go up. We'll see.

Enjoy Chapter 6, and if you like it, please like and reblog the post.

Chapter 6: Crazy, Stupid and Dangerous

It’s a few hours before I hear from Mez’gin again, during which time, I go back over the scrolls and my notes, and write out an actual spell, first on scratch paper, then copied into my spell tome. I run out and buy some spell reagents while waiting, and ask around the Derelict dining room where a good place for an experimental summoning would be around Marsti. It takes a few tries, and people who want to know what I’m working on that I have to convince it’s better if they wait till I know whether it’ll work, but I’m told about a reasonably safe, concealed place on the banks of the river that would be suitable.

Mez’gin messages me around half past ten, and appears outside of the Derelict just a few minutes later. “Ok,” she says, “lets see what you’ve put together.”

I guide her to my room, and lay out my notes and the final spell so she can take a look at them. She examines everything for another hour or so, but eventually concedes that it looks like it should work.

“I’m still not sure you’ll be able to reach into your world, but… I don’t think you’re going to kill yourself doing this. Do you have a place to cast it? Please tell me you’re not planning on using this room.”

“No, that would be rude to the people who work and sleep here if this spell goes seriously awry. There’s a place on the banks of the river we can do it. I asked around where I could try out an experimental spell.”

“Oh good… you told other spellcasters you were going to try something experimental. Tell me, is reckless curiosity not a thing where you come from?”

“Oh, no, it’s basically a defining trait of some of the best scientists. ...and some of the worst.” I gather my supplies up and lead Mez’gin to the spot I was told about. “Ok, we need to draw a summoning circle. I am taking some precautions. ...also it will help direct the energies.”

Mez’gin smirks. “Alright, gimme a second.” She mutters a word I don’t quite catch under her breath and conjures a few floating lights that illuminate the area. “Ok, what am I drawing?”

I hand her a diagram, a copy of the one I’m holding, and we sort out a basic grid on the soft earth to help us get things lined up. Mez’gin pulls out a thin silver rod to do her drawing, while I simply use my claws. It takes about fifteen minutes, then another ten to carefully fill the lines with silver dust. As a final step, I take my bracelet off and lay it on the ground, encircling the whole summoning circle. “Ok. Ready?”

“Let me ready a dispel just to be safe. I can hold it, and discharge it harmlessly if it turns out we don’t need it.”

“Ok.”

She focuses for a moment, and mutters another incantation, causing her hands to glow softly, then nods. I turn and step into the circle, holding my spell tome open in my un-gauntleted hand. The incantation is short, the gestures simple, and then I get to a point that hadn’t quite occurred to me when I was writing the spell.

I’m supposed to reach into the conduit. And I don’t think the ready routes in this case are really the best. I take a deep breath, and continue chanting as I lay my carnamanite gauntlet on my stomach, then push in, focusing on Æther, and the space I remember first waking up in, and my hand glows and passes through me. I feel around, mentally following a whining meow which stops suddenly, and I feel a small head butting into my hand. I smile, carefully take hold of Nyx, and pull.

“WREAZ.”

Mez’gin’s shout brings my attention to the fact that my arm feels incredibly warm. Right under the gem on the gauntlet. I shake my head and try to focus back on my task. It feels like I’m trying to pull a car one handed. In a lightning storm. But I’m already at this point, so… I keep going.

It feels like forever, but eventually, I’m cradling the black, furry, purring form of my cat Nyx, and falling back as the spell ends and the magic drains, sitting hard on the soft ground of the river bank.

Mez’gin rushes over and makes a fuss, checking my eyes, “can you hear me? Wreaz?”

I cough and laugh, “Yeah, I can hear you.” I hold up my cat, now much larger in proportion to me than she was, “Meet Nyx.”

Mez’gin smiles and reaches a hand out for Nyx to sniff, then strokes her head.

“What the SHITTING HELL WAS THAT?” says a man’s voice, alerting me to the handful of magic students that had been watching from behind trees and rocks.

I turn to the one who exclaimed and replied simply, “I missed my cat.” He stares at me in utterly shocked puzzlement, but shakes his head and gathers the other students up to head back to the Derelict for a drink. “Tell Fit that I’m buying your drinks!” I shout after them, which cheers them some.

Mez’gin taps a hoof on something hard in the dirt, “I think… we need to do something about this.”

Looking down, I see that the summoning circle has apparently melted the silver dust and even the dirt beneath it, creating a permanent circle of silver and glass. “Um.” I stand up. “Gimme a second. I think there’s something I can do. I focus, and a wordless echolalia falls from my lips as my hand glows. I trace a doorway of light in the air, and push the center of the bounded space, opening a portal to somewhere else, something that looks like a cozy entrance of a cabin. “Help me pry this up,” I say.

Between the two of us, we’re able to dig out the circle and roll it on end through the portal. With a pull inside the space, I close it as easily as I opened it, and find Mez’gin staring at me.

“And that was….?”

“I think it was a benefit of Cassiel’s pact. She wanted a home she could enter from anywhere. I saw the thread leading off from my body while I was in Æther during the calling spell and… just kind of knew how to open the portal. Hold Nyx for a second for me?”

Mez’gin takes Nyx while I dig a harness and leash out of my bag, and get them on the struggling cat.

“Ok, now I feel comfortable letting her walk on her own. I’m going to make her my familiar, and then she’ll probably be ok without the harness, but for now, I didn’t rip a hole in two worlds through my stomach just for her to run off and get eaten by a warg or something.”

Mez’gin sets Nyx on the ground, who quickly gets over the harness and starts sniffing around as we rub out the impression of the circle and I put my notes and supplies back in my bag. We walk back to the Derelict, where Fit raises an eyebrow as we walk in together, cat in my arms.

“Er… did I create an uproar when I told those, like, five students I was buying their drinks?”

“Little bit. Fortunately in their ‘someone else is buying my drinks’ they opted for the heavier stuff and most of them were quickly bludgeoned into quiet drunkenness by liquor I warn other thumbar about before serving. Also, they’re students. They’re rowdy, but I’m not having to put a table on your bill like I probably would if they were sailors.”

I rub my neck abashedly, “Sorry. How much do I owe you?”

“20 gold.”

“They really did go high end. Can I get some cider and… Mez’gin what do you drink?”

“Oh, you’re buying me a bottle of wine for this little caper.”

“And a bottle of wine, whatever your best is, can you have someone bring them to my room? Oh, and… a bowl of water and a bit of sausage steak for my friend here,” I say holding Nyx up.

Fit smiles sardonically and nods, “yeah, that makes it 35 gold even.”

I set Nyx on the stool next to me and pull my purse out, counting out five platinums and handing them over. Fit drops them into a cashbox and nods his head towards the hallway.

In my room, I have Mez’gin hold Nyx while I pop the window open and position a chair under it, then pull out a scroll of antilife shell, casting it such that it butts up against the outer wall of the inn, and then a scroll of persist effect, and cast it on the shell, creating a small area where Nyx can poke around outside, but go no further than, and no one can pass the other way, either. Then I position a chair under the window and let Nyx off her leash. “Ok, Nyx. You can go outside, and please do so if you need to piss.” Mez’gin giggles and Nyx starts exploring the room before jumping up to sit in the window.

I climb up onto the bed, and Mez’gin sits down next to me. Hazel brings our drinks, and a glass for Mez’gin.

“How are you feeling?” Mez’gin asks me.

“Tired. That spell was… draining.”

“Yeah, magic will do that. Let me see your arm.”

I take my gauntlet off and give her my arm. My forearm is red like a sunburn under where the sapphire sat. Mez’gin looks my hand over, telling me to flex my fingers, make a fist, roll my wrist. She pushes my fingers back gently, and satisfies herself that there’s no damage to my hand. She pulls a small jar of salve out of her bag and rubs it into the burn on my arm, then wraps it with a bandage.

“You’re lucky you just got a bad sunburn.”

“I know.”

She shakes her head. “Please don’t make a habit of trying out spells you wrote in a day. You did good, but with refinement, you could have made that much safer. The gauntlet probably actually saved your arm, at least.”

“I know,” I say, nodding grudgingly.

“But you did good,” she says, taking my face in her hands, and looking into my eyes. “You could overturn magical theory as we know it—if you don’t kill yourself with dangerous experiments, first.”

I blush and close my eyes, nuzzling my cheek into her hand. “Thanks.”

“Hey,” Mez’gin says quietly, drawing my eyes open and back to hers, before kissing me. A light peck at first, then another, deeper kiss, our lips parting and tongues seeking each other. We separate after what feels like an eternity of bliss, and her hand strokes down my neck, caressing my collar as it traces a line down towards my chest.

“I-” I hesitate, “Satan, I want this so much, but… I’m drained.” I look at her guiltily. “Sorry.”

Mez’gin smiles and pulls me into her arms, “don’t be, it’s ok. I’d honestly be surprised if you weren’t too drained.”

“Can we just sit like this and talk for a bit?”

“Of course. For a little bit. I need to get back to the Coil for lectures. But we can stay like this for a little while.”

We sit and cuddle for while. I tell Mez’gin about Earth, and about the fantasy fiction from there that serves as my sort of basic reference for things in Urtrament. Not that I expect things to be exactly how Earth fantasy writes them, just that it’s a model to work from. Nyx comes and sits on our legs, and after about an hour, maybe a bit longer, Mez’gin says she should be heading back. Before she goes, I ask her to look over another spell I worked out. She’s disapproving at first, but it’s less an entirely new spell, and more an alteration of existing spells, and she points out a few places where I should change something, but says that it should work well, and safely.

“Ok, I need to get back. Rest up. You’re going to need the energy for your mount spell to get to Pergamano. But it’ll work. You’re just an aesthetic bitch,” she smiles teasingly.

“Damned straight,” I grin. “Enjoy your lectures. Fill me in when we see each other next.”

“Of course.” Mez’gin gives me a peck on the cheek, then steps back and mutters a word, disappearing from my room.

I go out to the kitchen, finding Fit sitting behind the bar, the rest of the staff done for the night while any clients have turned in for the night. The fire in the main room is banked to a low glow, the lanterns on the walls carefully lowered similarly.

“Need anything?” he asks from his chair, positioned so he can easily see anyone coming into the main room, but also tilt his head back against the back counter.

“Um, is it possible to get some food? A ploughmans would be fine.”

He nods, “of course.” He holds up a hand as I reach for my purse, “don’t worry about it. You spent enough buying drinks for students that we can comp you a ploughmans.” He gestures for me to follow as he gets up and walks into the kitchen. He pulls out a plate and starts gathering things, “who’s your friend?”

“Oh, her name is Mez’gin. I met her on the phantrain. She was headed to the Coil.”

“She’s cute. And she cares about you. You need friends like that in this world.”

I smile despite myself, “yeah. Friends who’ll teleport into town to keep you safe when you try something crazy are good to have.”

“That where the cat came from?”

I nod, “yeah. She was my cat back home. And home is a long ways away, so I had to sort of create a spell to call her here.”

“I heard the students you bought drinks for talking about it. I don’t know a lot about magic, more of a beater myself, but it certainly sounded impressive. They sounded disappointed in the result, though. But they were also debating whether you succeeded or failed. I know enough about you magic sorts to know that debate is probably a good sign.”

“Ninety percent of most magic merely consists of knowing one extra fact,” I smile, arching my brows.

He chuckles as he hands me my plate of sausage, bread and cheese with some sliced onions. “Yeah, that sounds about right. Y’all always think you’re the smartest one in the room. It’ll do them good for you to be around with your one extra fact, just as long as you remember they’ve got their own, too.”

I nod chastened. “Well, I was smart enough to ask Mez’gin for help with the spell. That’s an improvement for my normally much more impulsive and over-confident ass.”

“Stay safe, always make sure your friends know when you’re going to do something crazy, stupid and dangerous. They’ll be the ones patching you up.”

“Yeah? I think you have some experience with that.”

Fit pulls the neck of his shirt down a bit, showing a large scar of what looks like actual copper on his shoulder seamlessly melding with the skin around it, possibly the result of a spear or similar tearing through it. It must have destroyed the bone and sinew and muscle. I don’t know if it’s a testament to healing magic, Fit’s resilience, or both. “On both sides. But all crazy, stupid dangerous things are worth it when it’s done for your friends.”

“Thanks, Fit. Oh, I hope it’s not a problem that I have Nyx in my room. I opened the window so she shouldn’t make a mess inside.”

“No problem. We’ve dealt with worse.”

“Thanks.” I take my dinner back to my room and sit on my bed. I think back on that cabin I was able to open a portal to, and wonder. Biting my lip, I slip the carnamanite gauntlet on again, and focus my mind, then let it unfocus in a very specific way, calling up the wordless repeating chant I used before, but this time, instead of a doorway, I sketch a well-known emblem from my before life into the air, and reach into it. I feel something vibrating within, buzzing in familiar ways like the vibration of a speaker playing your favorite song on the other side of a wall. I swirl my hand in this unseen space, gathering the vibration like strands around my fingers, then pull my hand from the glyph and lay it on my slate. I go back a few times, repeating this process until there are no more familiar vibrations in the otherworldly space, but before I close the portal, I reach in one more time, and grasp a thread-like energy that composes the space itself, pulling it out of the portal and examining it. It glows a dull lime green and I pick at it, pulling a couple strings away and letting them draw back into the portal, then wrap the remaining slimmer thread around one finger, and press the finger into my slate, passing into the magical half of its form, and find the signature of the polterstra function. I wrap the thread around this signature and tie it off. I pull my finger out, and brush away the glyph in the air, then double check-- the glowing lime green strand extends out of thin air and into my slate, remaining even as the portal is gone, but only visible with magical sight.

I grin to myself and take off the gauntlet, setting it on the bed table. With a flick of my thumb, I wake my slate to pull up the polterstra musical function. Inside is my music library from home. I hit shuffle and sit back to enjoy my dinner. A while later, plate set aside on my night table and slate in my hands, I doze off reading more about the world I find myself in. I wake up a couple hours later, set everything aside, and nestle under the sheets to truly sleep. Nyx jumps up and curls up on my hips and I fall into true sleep quickly with my music playing.

[wiypt-writes]

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 28- Crossbones

Summary: The Avengers uncover the identity of the mysterious Crossbones and mount a mission to apprehend him in Lagos.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: NEW BANNER ALERT @angrybirdcr​ has made a DOOZY for the Civil War part of the Story.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 27

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

January 2016

“Are you sure this isn’t a team call?” Katie asked Steve, watching as he picked up his shield.

“No.” He shook his head firmly as they walked down the corridor.  “We don’t even know if he will be there.”

“But…”

“Katie, stop!” Steve chuckled, pushing the door open to enter the hangar. “We’ll be fine. This is intelligence gathering, I’ve no intention of heading straight off after this guy, not until we find out what his play is.”

“His play is arms trading.” Nat interjected dryly as she appeared at the side of the jet.

“Which we are going to gather intelligence on.” Steve looked at her sternly “Nothing more.”

Katie bit her lip, she wasn’t convinced.

“We’ll be fine.” Steve continued, putting both his hands on her shoulders before he deftly changed the subject. “Don’t you have an interview to be getting ready for?”

He watched as the gentle smile spread across her face, a surge of pride flooding his system. She’d recently found out that the author of one of the books SIP had published last year had worked their way onto the Pulitzer Nominee list for fiction. The book itself held a plot centred around a War Veteran and the letters he wrote to his girl back home, and she’d roped Steve into helping the author keep it as factually correct as possible, something he had found strangely nostalgic yet enjoyable. Upon publishing it had flown off the shelves, the original five hundred copies went within three hours causing a mad scramble for a second run and downloads had been off the scale. Other than the Thrombey book they had published, it was their biggest seller to date, shifting almost half a million copies in a month, and with a foreword from Steve Rogers, critics had raved about how poignant it was.

Whilst it hadn’t won the prize, simply being a nominee was an honour in itself according to Katie. The Publicists at SIP had arranged for the author to be interviewed in a few newspapers and magazines along with one of them also requesting Katie, to discuss the launch of her new charity The March Foundation, which would sit alongside Tony and Pepper’s latest initiative- The September Foundation, but instead of focusing on inventors and science, it would instead be centred around authors and the arts.

The name was a play on words, not only being another month to compliment Tony’s, but also to honour both the War Based fiction that had inspired it and the man who had saved her life as March was the month of Bucky’s birth. A decision that had really touched Steve.

She took a deep breath and sighed, as she eyed Natasha heading up the ramp into the jet.

“Just be careful…”

“I’m always careful.” Steve kissed her gently.

“Liar.” She mumbled against his lips. He grinned and pulled back, pecking her mouth once more before he started up the ramp. He paused at the top and turned to face her. “We’ll be back late tonight. Don’t wait up.”

“I won’t!” she teased.

He flashed her another smile and then he hit the button and the ramp started to close. A loud siren told Katie that the hangar door was opening and that was her cue to leave. She headed back over to the steps at the side, leading up to the mezzanine, and as she watched through the window she saw the jet fly out of the side and over the frosty compound grounds. It up through the clouds and gone from sight before she had reached the double doors at the top.

The base was a hive of activity already, despite it being little after seven am. Katie was heading for an hour or so in the gym before her day began properly. She stuck her Bluetooth headphones in, selected the usual work out play-list and began to run on the treadmill, slowly at first to ease herself in- she was a little bit stiff and sore from her sparring session with Natasha yesterday. Nat had really upped the ante on Katie over the last month or so, which was good as Katie was now pretty much on a par with her when it came hand to hand, something Steve had been completely astonished to see after walking in on the two women just as his wife floored Natasha with a well-placed leg swipe the red head didn’t see coming. 

Forty minutes later, Katie swapped to the rower to finish off, and was approximately half way through the three-kilometre distance when her music cut off and the screen to the right of the machine switched over from the play-list to a visual of Rhodey.

“Hey Kiddo,” He smiled as she stopped rowing to look at him. “Sorry to interrupt, but we’ve had a sensor trip on the outer perimeter of the facility.”

“You send someone out there?” She frowned, catching her breath as she picked up the bottle of water that was to her right.

“Yeah, Sam is currently out there looking for it, just thought, well seeing as Cap and Nat are out, you’re technically the one in charge so…”  

She let out a snort as she swallowed a mouth full of her drink.  Being third in command was something she didn’t really care for, knowing full well it was Steve’s way giving her some kind of authority over simply being the Captain’s Wife, but she’d accepted the gesture simply because he’d been so excited when he had asked her she couldn’t refuse.

“Okay, I’ll go and check it out. “

Standing up she left the gym and moved quickly to the armoury, grabbing a gun, a coms piece and a fleece jacket before quickly making her way outside.

“What’s going on up there, Sam?” Rhodey spoke in her ear as she walked into the cold air, spotting Sam circling above.

“I’m at the location of the sensor trip, but I’m not seeing anything.” He said. “Oh, hang on…”

“What is it?” Katie asked, watching him as he circled above her.

“Roof top…”

“Gimme a lift?” 

Sam swooped down from the clear, winter sky and she grabbed his arm as he effortlessly pulled her up, dropping them both onto the flat roof of one of the buildings.

“I can see you.” Sam called out loudly as they landed.

Katie frowned, as she didn’t know what Sam was talking about until out of nowhere a man in a red and silver suit, with an insect like helmet suddenly appeared. Katie cocked her gun and aimed it at him.

“Who the hell are you?” she questioned. As they watched the man started to awkwardly introduce himself to Sam, his mask lifted to reveal a shaky smile as he waved.

“Hi, I’m Scott. I know who you are, obviously, you’re Katie Stark, I mean Rogers…” Scott started trying to hold back his enthusiasm and motioning towards Sam and Katie with a chuckle. "I’m a big fan.”

"Appreciate it. But like the lady asked, who the hell are you?” Sam echoed Katie’s earlier sentiments.

“I’m Ant-Man.” Scott or Ant-Man answered confidently. Sam and Katie shared an incredulous look and Katie mouthed the name back to him and he shrugged. Katie lowered her gun slightly.

“Wanna tell me what you want?” She questioned Ant-Man as the man tried to explain why the two Avengers hadn’t heard of him.

Scott pointed towards a building to their left, maintaining eye contact with Katie as he spoke “I was hoping I could grab a piece of technology. Just for a few days, then I’d return it. I need it to, uh, save the world- you know how that is.”

“Yeah, we know exactly how that is,” Sam said to Scott and Katie felt her mouth twitching into a grin.

“What piece of technology, and what do you mean saving the world?” she asked.

“I’d love to tell you but Hank Pym said never to trust a Stark.” The man called Scott, or Ant-Man was almost apologetic. “Even though you’re technically a Rogers now.”

Katie frowned, she’d never heard of a Hank Pym before, but that was irrelevant now. Sam gave a sigh besides her and stepped forwards.

“We’ve located the breach.” he spoke “Bringing him in…”

“I’m really sorry about this.” Scott rushed out and as Sam reached out to him he vanished.

“What the…” Katie spun round and felt something hit her, hard in the back. She fell forward onto the gravelled surface of the roof before rolling onto her back, gun raised again just in time to see Sam flying backwards off the edge, tumbling through the air and grappling with something whilst flying over the lawns of the facility.

Katie could do nothing but stand and watch from her vantage point as Sam continued to wrestle with, then shoot at the man who could shrink and grow seemingly at will. And if she was completely honest, it was kind of entertaining to watch.

“This guy would actually be pretty useful.” Katie mused into the coms, trying but failing to hide the amusement in her voice “Are you recording this? For future, recruitment purposes obviously.”

“All over it.” Rhodey responded, a slight chuckle punctuating his confirmation.

It was when the two men crashed into the storage unit that Ant-Man had wanted to break into in the first place that she started to get concerned.

“Err do we have cameras in there?” she questioned Rhodey.

“Uh… negative.” Rhodey answered after a short pause.

“Shit.” Running to the side of the roof she scaled down the metal ladder at the side, dropping the last eight feet or so, landing gently before she ran towards the storage building. At that point Sam came crashing backwards through the metal door and Katie flung her arms up to shield her face from the debris before glancing up. Sam’s flight pattern was jerky and off and he was gripping at his pack on his back.

“He’s in my pack!” Sam shouted before he landed hard in the dirt and with a groan, pulled himself into a standing position, yanking off his goggles.

“You okay?” Katie asked as she ran over to him.

“Yeah, fine…” He sighed before he looked at her. “You know, it’s really important to me that Cap never finds out about this.”

Katie grinned and the pair of them scouted around but to no avail, there was no sign of Ant-Man, or Scott anywhere. Katie instructed Rhodey to get the door fixed and lock it down again and said she would speak to Tony to find out what was in there. Sam was luckily not hurt, just a slight bruising to his pride so Katie left him at the lab with Lawson to look at making the repairs to his pack before she headed off to get changed.

*****

Steve and Natasha landed in Sadove, Crimea and were instantly greeted by the man who was leading the investigation into the raid on the local police station. The last three out of six hits the guy had made had been on small, local outfits with less resistance than the other places he had hit but that was hardly surprising. The former SHIELD base he had hit in Mexico had been heavily guarded, which made Steve think that he had perhaps suffered losses to his team which was making him rethink his strategy. As Natasha chatted to the man in his local language, Steve hung back before the man nodded to Natasha and strode towards him.

“Captain Rogers.” he said, English thick with accent “Inspector Chernov.”

Steve shook the man’s hand “Pleasure to meet you in person Inspector.”

“So you are interested in the man who raided our local station?” “He’s been on our radar for a while.” Steve said, choosing his words carefully “But we don’t have much to go on.” “Well, I’m not sure we can help but I can take you down there and you can see for yourself.” Steve nodded. “That would be great, thanks.”

It wasn’t a long drive, and once they arrived Steve and Natasha were allowed to wander round the scene undisturbed, providing they didn’t interfere with the police and teams already swamping the area. Their search showed them nothing new and they moved to watching the CCTV which the Authorities had refused to send them. They could have hacked into it, but Steve was keen to keep the tentatively growing communication lines with Crimea and Russia as amicable as possible, especially in the light of Sokovia. The Avengers were not a political party, so by remaining respectful of their requests to meet only in person he hoped it went someway to proving they were here to help and had no ulterior motives.

As such they sat in the mobile control centre, scanning the CCTV. Steve watched the footage and sighed.

“This isn’t HYDRA.” Nat concluded and Steve agreed.

“I know, it’s not their MO. This guy is too haphazard.” Steve pondered. “Just wondering why, considering how well organised he is, he is leaving so much devastation behind.”

“Minimum effort leaving maximum casualties.” Natasha said, watching the footage “He simply doesn’t care who he takes out.” “Well he’s hardly gonna care about that if he’s dealing black market arms.” Steve sighed.

They watched the footage some more and Steve held his hand up to Natasha to play it at normal speed when they reached the bit where the key perps were on screen.

“What’s he doing?” He frowned, looking at Crossbones. The man was stood in the middle of the room, looking around.

“He’s scanning for Cameras.” Nat answered as they both watched. 

There was something familiar about the way the man walked and held himself, but Steve couldn’t quite place it. As they continued the footage, Crossbones located the camera they were watching through and looked directly up at it, pulling his mask up a little to reveal his mouth, clearly saying something.

“Can you enhance that?” Steve asked. Natasha tapped at it.

It zoomed in on the man and Natasha spoke “looks like something about it being personal…”

She held her phone up to the footage and then pressed something, and the phone spoke to her in a robotic voice.

“Big Guy…I just want you to know, this aint personal.” Steve’s gut clenched. The last time he had heard those words were in an elevator in the Triskelion.

“Rogers?” Natasha looked at him, noticing the nerve which was twitching in his jaw “What is it? Does that mean something to you?”

“In a fashion.” He turned to face her. “It’s Rumlow.”

****** The interviews went well and once the photos etc were done Katie and Tony retreated to the living area of the Tower for a well-earned drink as they put the final touches of their tour together. They were to start visiting various Universities across the US to roll out their foundation grants. To ease them both in gently, the first University they were going to was Columbia, so not far from home. Tony and Pepper would be presenting and discussing to students within the School of Engineering and Applied Sciences and Katie in the School of the Arts for Students on the Writing Programme.

Their chatter moved from work to Tony asking how the Compound was going, and Katie remembered the events of that morning.

“You ever heard of a bloke called Hank Pym?” she asked suddenly.

Tony paused for a moment, frowning at her sudden change of subject, but something stirred in his mind. “The name rings a bell, hang on…FRIDAY, search all files reference Hank Pym.” He instructed, tapping at something on his tablet.

After a few seconds something flashed up in the corner of the screen.

“Yeah, here you go.” He pressed another button causing the image to reflect in front of them as a hologram. “He worked with Dad and SHIELD on a programme called Project GOLIATH.”

“What the hell was that?” Katie asked, taking a pull from her bottle.

“A research programme into some kind of Nano particle.” Tony said as the pair of them simultaneously ran through the information on the screen.

“Ahhhh.” Katie nodded, “makes sense…” “What does?”

Katie explained about the encounter with Scott and Tony gave a hum of agreement. 

“That could actually be kinda useful.”

“I know.” she agreed “But he vanished after he got whatever he wanted. Any thoughts on what it could be?”

“That facility holds a load of crap that was Dad’s” Tony said simply “Could be anything.”

“Well, nothing we could see was missing, but it might be worth you taking a look.” she suggested.

He shrugged “I can do, but there was nothing remotely dangerous in there. Was just a load of old signal jammers and code breakers we don’t really need anymore.”

“Well, I did try and ask what him what it was he wanted, you know, on account of him saying he was saving the world, maybe we could have helped with that, being the Avengers and all, but he simply turned round and said ‘Hank Pym told me never to trust a Stark’.”

She drained her bottle of beer as Tony did the same and he stood up, taking the empties to retrieve 2 more from the fridge.

“Clearly one of many in the long line of people dad pissed off.” Tony rolled his eyes as he popped the lids, before he sighed “I’m actually surprised no one tried to kill him before, you know, he rammed their car into a tree.”

Katie looked at her brother and swallowed. Tony had no idea how close to the truth he was.

“Sorry.” he slid the beer across the bar, mistaking her guilty silence for one of upset “That was out of order.”

“For all his faults I don’t think Dad was a bad man.” Katie spoke quietly “And he did love us.”

“I know.” Tony nodded, squeezing her hand.

She stayed for another drink and then headed home. She had checked in with Sam before heading back to their apartment and she was settled on the couch with a glass of wine when Steve called.

“Hey Soldier.” she said, smiling at the screen as she flicked the phone to project the image in front of her, muting the TV.

“Hey Darlin’.” He smiled back

“So, how was it?” she asked

“Well we got the intel.” 

“Solid?”

“Pretty solid yeah.” Natasha spoke, appearing by his side. “We think we know who he is anyway.” “Who?”

Steve sighed. “It’s Rumlow.” “What?” Katie spluttered into her wine glass. “Are you sure?”

“Oh pretty sure.” Steve nodded. “He left me a clear message.”

“Steve recognised him on the Video so I ran a crosscheck.” Nat picked up. “Turns out he was listed as severely injured and was taken to the hospital. After that, our trail runs cold.” 

“Until now.” Katie sighed.

“We’ve also got a list of his associates, some known faces he’s been seen with.” Steve shrugged “So we’re putting out an alert.”

“Doesn’t give us much to go on though.” Katie rubbed at her temples.

“When have we ever had much to go on?” Natasha asked and Katie shrugged

“Fair point.” she conceded as Natasha moved off out of sight.

“So how has your day been?” Katie looked back at Steve as he spoke.

“Not bad actually.” she said, “Interviews went well, oh, and we had a bit of an incident at base before.” “Incident?” he frowned, “What kind of incident?”

“Attempted break in, nothing major.”

“Everyone ok?”

“Yeah, honestly it was no big deal, I’ll fill you in on when you get home. For the rest of the day once the interviews were done Tony and I drank beer.”

“Sounds pretty productive.” Steve raised an eyebrow, smile playing on his lips.

“Beer is always productive.” Katie informed him and he chuckled.

“We’ll be airborne in thirty minutes and then we should be home in about four hours.” He said, as Katie looked at her watch. It was almost 8:30 pm. 

“Alright, I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you.”

“And you.” She blew him a kiss and cut the call with a yawn. She was tired. Really tired, so she headed off for a bath. After soaking and listening to music for forty minutes she dried off and shoved on one of Steve’s T-shirts before climbing into bed and laying there for a moment, flicking through the TV channels. She settled on an episode of Family Guy and snuggled down into the large bed, wrapping herself in the soft covers. It always felt odd sleeping without Steve being there. Sometimes she quite enjoyed being able to starfish in the middle of the Emperor sized bed but tonight she wasn’t enjoying being alone.

****

Steve was whacked when they arrived home. Bidding good night to Natasha, instead of changing in the armoury he headed straight back and let himself into their quarters. Crossing the hallway he made his way into the bedroom he paused, a gentle smile spreading on his face. Illuminated in the light from the hallway he could see Katie was curled up in the middle of the bed, using his pillow as a hugging buddy. He quietly crossed the room and perched on the bed, stripping off his boots and uniform top. He paused slightly as Katie stirred and he turned to look at her, gently brushing her hair of her face. He glanced down at the freckles he knew by memory, long thick lashes, soft pink lips, that familiar Stark nose…she looked so peaceful asleep.

She stirred again, and that nose he adored wrinkled in the way it did when she was waking up and she cracked an eye open before her face split into a smile at the sight of her husband.

“Hey.”

“Hey, baby girl.” He smiled, his hand cupping her cheek. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you”

“It’s Okay.” She yawned, leaning into his touch.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are?” He asked, and through the tiny sliver of light coming from the hallway Katie could see his eyes were full of their usual warmth.

“I don’t think you did today, no.”

“Well in that case, you’re beautiful” He smiled and she chuckled slightly as he dropped a soft kiss on her head. “I’m gonna take a shower and then I’ll be right with you.”

She watched him appreciatively as he stood up and pulled his compression-shirt over his head, leaving him bare form the waist up as he headed into the en-suite. For a moment she was tempted to join him, but then decided against it, laying back onto her side, dozing.

It wasn’t long before the bed dipped and she felt him slide under the covers next to her. She turned over to snuggle up into the crook of his shoulder, her head laying on his chest.

“So, you wanna tell what the incident was today?” he asked, his right hand reaching up to play with the strands of her hair that fell over her shoulder.

“Oh yeah.” she grinned before she launched into an explanation about Scott-slash-Ant Man. He fell silent for a moment but in the end came to the same conclusion as Tony had, there was nothing in there that was dangerous so they just needed to remain vigilant.

“Yeah, well Sam seemed to be taking vigilant to the extreme as he’s already been on the phone to numerous contracts, trying to track him down.” she said “I think he’s a bit annoyed the guy basically kicked his ass. Rhodey caught it all on video but Sam told me never to tell you about it. He’s taken it quite personally.” “I’m not surprised, he had his ass kicked.” Steve sniggered. “Where do I get a copy of the CCTV?”

Katie grinned, “I have it on my phone, Rhodey sent it to me.”

“Play it.” he instructed.

“What now?” “Yes, right now.” he nodded, moving so he was sat up, jolting her off his chest.

“No Sam will kill me!” she laughed, propping herself up on her elbow

“Screw Sam!” he snorted “He plays those damned Phys Ed videos every chance he gets.”

“That’s true.” Katie pondered “Ok, hang on…”

She turned, reaching over for the phone and the TV remote. Blinking at the sudden light, once her eyes were accustomed to the change she pressed a few buttons on her phone and beamed the footage to the TV on the wall. She had to admit, it looked even funnier from the video play back than it had when she had been there.

Steve let out a huge, genuine laugh, his head thrown back, banging against the headboard, arm clutched across his chest as he laughed, and laughed.

“I’m so showing that at our next briefing.” he said, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes.

“You can’t…” “Oh, I can!”

****

The next morning the pair of them made their way to the briefing room both munching on a piece of toast and each carrying a mug of coffee. It was early, before 8, but Steve wanted the team to be prepared. Everyone filed into the room along with some good humoured grumbling about the time before they dropped into their preferred seats and looked to the front of the room.

“I know it’s early and I’m sorry…” Steve held his hands up, looking round at the team assembled in front of him “But this is important.”

“More important than sleep?” Sam yawned.

Steve ignored him. “Alright, here’s what we already know.”  Steve began to explain how they believed Rumlow to be Crossbones, the masked man who had been causing a whole lot of chaos in the wake of what happened at the Triskelion. Katie knew he was annoyed at himself for not realising he had survived sooner, but even if they had, they’d so much going on, not to mention Ultron had been a much bigger threat in the immediate future

"He’s been targeting former SHIELD labs and police stations all over the country and selling products on the black market.” Natasha spoke.

“Police stations?” Katie asked.

“We think he suffered heavy losses at the raid prior to the last three, so he’s going for easier targets whilst he regroups.” Natasha answered.

“Still no intel on who his buyers are?” Wanda asked.

“No.” Steve shook his head, “He seems to have become an independent terrorist, and doesn’t appear to be working for anyone”

“Our recon yesterday told us that Rumlow seems to be operating with this guy.” Natasha explained as the photos flashed up “He’s known as the Black Mamba…” “Black Mamba?” Wanda deadpanned. “Cross Bones and Black Mamba?”

“NATO has every available pair of eyes out looking for them.”  Steve ignored Wanda and looked at Rhodey.

“Soon as they break cover, we’ll know.” Rhodey nodded

“So then what?” Sam frowned

“More recon?” Katie asked

Steve looked at his wife and nodded. “Possibly, but for now we need to let intelligence do their job. But be prepared, when we get a lead I want to be ready to go.”

There were mumbles around the room and Steve let the team lead the discussion. Sam commented on the crap code names again, causing Wanda to laugh. Katie suggested they should compile a detailed profile on Rumlow, see if they could find a pattern to his behaviour, nodding to Vision. the AI had a knack for it as did Katie, so Steve and Natasha nodded, both agreeing it was a good idea.

“We need to be vigilant.” Steve instructed. “Keep our eyes open for anything that’s out of the ordinary.” He caught Katie’s eye, a wicked smirk crossed his face and she shook her head smiling as he continued “Speaking of which…FRIDAY, play the video”

“Certainly Captain Rogers.” The pictures of Rumlow and Black Mamba disappeared from the screen and suddenly the footage of Sam spiralling through the air started to play. The room started to snigger as Sam looked at Katie who held her hands up in an “it wasn’t me!” gesture.

“Oh come on Man!” He groaned as the room gleefully watched the film, laughter ringing round the room.

******

The next four months ticked by with no further information on Rumlow. They pulled together a potted history which tracked the hospital he had been in, when he had escaped (the local authorities had been searching for him for ages since he threatened his nurse upon waking before violently breaking out) his movements since (ones they knew about and some they hadn’t) but it didn’t give them anything new.

Katie and Tony were buried deeply in their Foundation work, which was taking up a lot of Katie’s time so she wasn’t as close to the investigations as she could have been. Steve was fine with that though, the further away she was from Rumlow frankly the better, but he still made sure she was involved with what they had found and she attended the briefings as best she could when she wasn’t travelling the country. Steve’s chest burst with pride every time he saw his girl on the news, in papers, as the press seemed to be lavishing praise upon the siblings for what they were doing. 

Then, one day in the middle of May, they struck gold when one of the Facial Recognition Alerts they had set up pinged to Black Mamba being spotted in a Lagos, Nigeria. As a result Steve had scrambled them all to attention as soon as he could, which was four am. But there were no complaints about the time, not when they knew this could be their chance to bring him in. They all pitched round the screen as Steve and Natasha identified the local police station that they suspected of him hitting, given where the FR had pinged several times.

“We think they are scoping this area.” Nat said, drawing a red circle round a part of the town.

Katie moved the screen with her fingers, enlarging the aerial shots as she looked at them, her analytical brain going ten to the dozen.

“Layout looks pretty standard.” she said, scanning the map, frowning slightly. Something was nagging at her. And as she looked, she realised what it was.

“What is it?” Steve asked, recognising the tone of her voice and frown on her face.

“The Science Institute.” She nodded towards the screen. “Big white building at the end of the road.”

“Biological weapons are big on the black market.” Sam cottoned on, nodding slightly.

“Yeah but his recent previous hits and our pattern analysis don’t give us any reason to believe that’s what he’s going to be aiming for.” Nat suggested

“You said yourself that you suspected he was going for easier targets whilst he regrouped.” Katie bit her lip. “What if he has?”

“We have to assume Rumlow will go for the police station, it’s the best intel we have.” Steve looked at her and he noticed the expression on Katie’s face as she crossed her arms and opened her mouth to argue. “But we should be vigilant, keep alert.”

She exchanged a glance with Sam, who simply shrugged

“We do this with stealth.” Steve continued, “I want us on the ground and out of sight, we need to catch him with as little fuss or danger to civilians as possible”

"Yeah, and with that in mind Viz you may need to sit this one out.” Nat tossed out and Vision nodded deprecatingly

“We’re still working on him blending in.” Wanda added.

“Same for you too Rhodey.” Steve looked at him “We need someone back here, we could be gone a few days.”

Rhodey nodded. “No problem Cap.” “Get what you need. Wheels up in twenty.” Steve dismissed everyone who immediately went their separate ways to prepare for the upcoming mission leaving Katie, Natasha and Steve alone

“You think she’s ready?” Natasha looked at Steve, nodding to Wanda. He took a deep breath, staring at the door through which she had just left with Vision.

“You say she’s been training hard.” He spoke after a moments pause, looking at Nat.

“Yeah, she has but her powers are still largely impacted by her emotions.”

“Aren’t everyone’s?” Katie asked. “I mean I’m angry or upset I fight harder, as you know.” “Yeah but,” Nat sighed “It isn’t the same, she can do a lot of damage.”

“We have the bare bones of a team as it is.” Steve shook his head and Katie looked down, feeling slightly guilty. She had discussed this with Steve, she wasn’t going. The Stark Foundation Tour had another few visits to Universities this week. Steve spotted the look on her face and he gently nudged her arm “That’s not a criticism honey…” “I know…” she bit her lip. Maybe she should postpone…

“Throw in the fact that this is the first full team mission we’ve had since Ultron and I don’t see any choice but to take Wanda” Steve shrugged, ending the conversation.

Nat took a deep breath and nodded “You’re right. And maybe being in an actual mission environment might help her gain some control, I mean practice makes perfect.”

“You trying to convince me or yourself?” he asked, eyeing her

“Both.” she drawled, heading out of the door.

Katie took a deep breath as Steve turned to her. “You best go.” she smiled softly. Steve bit his lip before he pulled her into an embrace, kissing her softly.

“I’ll call as soon as I can.” He promised, pressing his forehead to hers.

“Stay safe, please.” She whispered as he kissed the tip of her nose and hurried out of the door.

Once he was gone, Katie sank onto a chair, her head in her hands. She was torn, really torn. For the last year or so, post Ultron, they’d had a pretty quiet time of it, mopping up any stray Hydra operatives that strolled into their patch. But this, this was big. Was the Foundation really more important than putting a halt to whatever shitty plan Rumlow was trying to pull off? She was still an Avenger after all, she’d never quit that, and would never quit that.

She’d always be Supernova, whether she wanted to be or not.

“I’m gonna regret this.” She groaned to herself as she jumped up, and headed after the rest of the team.

*****

Steve, at first, had tried to argue against her coming but when Natasha had pointed out they could do with the support he had relented and the team had been bolstered by Supernova’s return to active duty.

Their support staff had done a great job on such a short time, and rented the group a four bedroomed apartment overlooking the street the Police Station was on. It wasn’t fancy, but it was the last place anyone would think would house Avengers. They spent their first day setting up a command centre, with coms links back to base and the next morning they began their recon.

The first two days were completely uneventful. No sign of Rumlow or any of his associates. Nat was the expert at covert ops and so she took the lead, directing them to all the right places coaching Wanda along the way and Steve was pleasantly surprised to see how well the younger girl took to the task, blending in with the locals. Katie took to observing from up high with Sam, her attention on the Biological Institute, unable to shake the nagging feeling she had about the place. She hadn’t mentioned it since their brief a few days ago, but Steve knew when she had an idea in her head she wouldn’t rest so he left her to it. Between them they had the area covered, which was good enough.

On the evening of the fourth day Wanda, Sam and Natasha headed out for a little undercover work in the bars at night, “So you guys can have a little undercover activity of your own” Sam teasingly stated, patting Steve on the back as he left, drawing an exasperated sigh from the Soldier. Nevertheless, the door had hardly clicked shut before Steve had his wife pinned up against a wall, hands wandering all over her body, lips and teeth clashing, her hand fisting in the slightly longer strands of hair at the top of his head as they’d furiously taken advantage of their first time alone in days.

The next morning Katie woke at about five-forty-five am and rolled over only to find the bed empty besides her. Steve could never rest when they were in the middle of a case like this. The clothes they had shed and left scattered all over the floor the night before were now folded and placed on top of the dresser, and she had to smile. Even now he was a total neat freak. Knowing full well where he would be she climbed out of the bed, pulled on Steve’s T-shirt and a pair of shorts before making her way into the dark corridor. She stopped in the doorway of the small dining room which was functioning as a makeshift office and sure enough, there he was, the lamp softly illuminated his handsome face as he flicked through a file, crease evident between his brows.

“Soldier, you’re up so early.” She said gently. Steve had heard her coming of course. Smiling softly, as he was always pleased to see her, he turned to face her as she crossed the room.

“Yeah, sorry, I woke about half an hour ago and couldn’t get back to sleep.”

“You know, I get that you’re fed up of just waiting but sitting here re-reading all this isn’t going to help you know.” Katie sighed, taking the file off him and dropping it onto the wooden table, before she perched on the edge.

“I know, it’s just so goddamned frustrating.” Steve ran his hand over his face. After pondering for a moment Katie stood up and walked behind the chair and placed her hands on his shoulders. He let out a groan of satisfaction and leaned back in his seat as she kneaded the muscles with her hands. She found a particularly bad spot just under his shoulder blade and began to push harder with her thumb. Steve, unable to decide if it was pleasurable or painful, made a little noise which was half way between the two.

“God your shoulders are so knotty.” Katie mused and he left out a breath through his nose moving his head to the side.

“Yeah well, I did a lot of exercise last night.” He quipped back as her hands continued to work at his shoulders.

“I’ll say.” She grinned. “You know that thing you did with your mouth is actually illegal in several countries.” “Good job we live in the land of the free.” His voice was low as he fully relaxed under her touch.  Katie carried on working at his muscles in silence for a moment, happy to let him bliss out. 

“So… answer me a question?” She spoke after a short while, rousing him a little, and he hummed, unable to bring himself to be bothered to talk.

“If you couldn’t sleep why didn’t you wake me to help you?” Her voice was loaded as she leaned forward to wind her arms around his neck, running her hands up and down his chest from behind. Steve loved it when she touched him like that which was why he pouted slightly when she pulled away, but the pout didn’t last long and a smirk crossed his face as Katie walked round to the front of his chair

“And how, exactly, would you have done that?” His hands moved to rest on her hips as she lowered herself so that she was straddling him. She slid one of her hands around the back of his head to tangle in his hair the other settling on his chest.

“Reckon I can think of a few ways.”  She smirked slyly before using her hand in his hair to pull him forward and connect their lips. Steve kissed her back immediately as one hand crept up the back of her top, the other on the side of her thigh, sliding up her shorts.

“Sleepy yet?” She murmured.

“Not exactly the word I would use.” Steve raised an eyebrow.

She grinned and then began to rock her hips on top of him grinding down on his growing hardness and he sighed slightly, kissing her harder as she pushed down again. With an automatic reaction he raised his hips, rocking up to meet her and this time she groaned as she could feel the friction of their clothes grinding against her clit. His hands were now firmly holding her hips underneath her, no, his top, and he sat forward so his mouth could cover the spot under her ear that drove her wild. With a soft sigh she titled her head to the side as he trailed kisses across her jaw until his mouth met her lips again. His hands reached down to grasp the hem of her top and he had just begun to slide it upwards when they were interrupted by a raspy voice.

“I thought all the making out fully clothed supposedly stopped when you reached the age of seventeen.” Natasha scoffed from the doorway. Katie looked up over Steve’s shoulder as he sighed, dropping his head onto her chest, letting out a groan of frustration.

“Don’t you know how to knock?” Katie sighed.

“Don’t you know how to lock a door?” She retorted, dryly.

“I take it this isn’t a social call?” Steve’s voice was muffled as he spoke into his wife’s chest, not bothering to move his head. Katie chuckled a little, her hand running through his hair.

“Half and half.” Natasha arched an eyebrow, “Unsociable hour it maybe but Wanda’s already up and wants breakfast, she was going to head out to the local bakery but I thought it might be an idea to start the re-con early.”

Steve’s head looked up to Katie’s as she shifted off his lap and straightened out her clothing and hair. Steve glanced down at his crotch and Katie raised an eyebrow slightly as he stood up and adjusted his sweats in an attempt to hide his slowly ebbing arousal before he turned to face the red head.

“Well, you’re the expert in this covert stuff.” He raised his brow. “What have you got in mind?”

*****

“All right, what do you see?” Steve was coaxing Wanda, as ever, to observe her surroundings, see and hear everything, on the job training he supposed you could call it.

Meanwhile, Katie glanced down from the rooftop on which Sam and her were currently stood, her scanners doing their usual work. No weapons spotted yet.

“Standard beat cops. Small station. Quiet street. It’s a good target” Wanda’s voice came through the ear piece Steve was wearing.

“There’s an ATM in the South Corner.” he replied “which means….”

“Cameras” Wanda said instantly.

“Both cross streets are one way.” He carried on

“So, compromised escape routes.”

“Means our guy doesn’t care about being seen, he isn’t afraid to make a mess on the way out.” Steve concluded. “You see that Range Rover halfway up the block?”

“Yeah, the red one? It’s cute”

“It’s also bulletproof,” Katie cut in as FRIDAY completed a scan on the vehicle “Which means private security…”

“Which means more guns, which means more headaches for somebody. Probably us” Nat finished

“You guys know I can move things with my mind, right? “ Wanda replied

“Looking over your shoulder needs to become second nature.” Natasha continued

“Anybody ever tell you you’re a little paranoid?” Sam asked and Katie turned to look at him, retracting her face plate to give him a grin.

“Not to my face. Why? Did you hear something?” the exchange continued.

“Eyes on target, folks” Steve spoke firmly with an air of authority, bringing them back to the job in hand. “This is the best lead we’ve had on Rumlow in six months. I don’t want to lose him.”

“If he sees us coming that won’t be a problem. He kind of hates us.” Sam replied

As Steve watched he noticed that a garbage truck was slowly pushing its way through traffic, with no regard to pedestrians or other vehicles. He frowned and kept his eyes on it as it continued to gather momentum as it went.  

“Sam, Katie…see that garbage truck? Tag it.”

Sam’s small drone launched, swooping down to scan the vehicle as Katie instructed FRIDAY to do the same.

“Give me X-ray.” Sam spoke. There was a pause before he gave a little moan. “That truck’s loaded for max weight.”

“And the driver’s armed.” Katie concluded.

And in that second it dawned on Steve that his wife had been right all along. The Institute was the target after all.

“It’s a battering ram.” Katie’s voice mumbled on the coms, clearly having realised the same thing he had, and with that Steve turned from the window, running for the door.

“Go, now!” He yelled into his coms as he sprinted down the stairs. “There not hitting the station…” “The institute…” Sam spoke as Steve burst onto the street looking up in time to see Falcon and Supernova spiralling into the air.

And once more the fight was on.

**** Chapter 29 Part 1

**Original Posting**

[atruththatyoudeny]

Monthly Reads | November 2020

Happy 28th! Here are all the fics I read this month and the one I’m (still) currently reading - a whooping 365k fic! And as always: all my love for all the amazingly talented authors this fandom has ♥

❖ Hang there like fruit, my soul/Till the tree die | louloubaby92 | a/b/o - past sexual abuse - angst - 111k ''You still want me?'' he asks, voice thick. ''Yes,'' Harry's answer is absolute, almost defiant. ''But my hands are empty,'' Louis shakes his head. ''I've got nothing to offer you.'' ''I don't care about that. Do you see my hands?'' Harry asks before he cups Louis' face. His touch is gentle. He's always gentle when it comes to Louis. ''When I'm not holding you, I feel empty, but like this,'' he presses closer until their faces are inches apart. He caresses the apple of Louis' cheeks and that's when Louis realizes that he's spilled tears and Harry's wiping them. He didn't even notice; too busy looking into Harry's kind, kind, kind alpha eyes. ''I feel like I'm holding the world and I don't feel empty anymore,'' Louis knows he's a defective omega. He knows its also not his fault but it is what it is. He takes the world head on even when the world is unkind to him. Not Harry though; stubborn as he is, he doesn't back down, not when it comes to Louis.

❖ an island without waves | tofiveohfive | getting back together - angst - post friends with benefits - 5k Louis feels unreasonable. Less than a month ago, his consciousness was clean, not a hitch in his step. However, since the day the smallest seed of doubt planted itself in his mind, Louis keeps second-guessing himself and his choices. Every time he turns a corner, there’s some variation of Harry’s essence waiting to haunt him. A smell, a sound, a flavor, a color. Something Harry had mindlessly left behind. Something Louis is certain Harry would love if he could show him. Harry is in everything. He’s everywhere. An AU inspired by Niall Horan's songs: Everywhere | San Francisco | Still

❖ can't believe i captured your heart | millsx | break up - implied/referenced charcater death - domestic fluff - toxic relationship - 22k Harry wants Louis to teach him how to ride a horse for a date. Louis wants Harry to break up with said date. Or, the one where Harry is in a toxic relationship and Louis is there to get him out of it.

❖ Want It Flowing Through My Streams | screwstyles | Tennis AU - a/b/o - strangers to friends to lovers - 30k Wimbledon ABO AU: Harry has just qualified for his first Grand Slam, and he’s prepared to make the most of it – that is, until his heat unexpectedly hits him only a few days before his first match. And it’s just his luck that Louis Tomlinson, the resident bad boy of British tennis, is the only person around to help him.

❖ pull me back together again (the way you cut me in half) | 28sunflowers | post-break up strangers to lovers to exes to lovers - cheating - angst - 26k When trying to figure out who the love of his life is, Harry’s brain brings back a specific name from his past. That’s why, a decade after a messy divorce, Louis opens his door to find his ex-husband standing on the other side, asking for a second chance. Or a This Is Us AU starring Harry as Kevin and Louis as Sophie, but I selectively choose to use only some parts of what's cannon on the show.

❖ Pride and Peace | BrklynVan | canon compliant - hurt/comfort - fluff - angst - The X Factor era - 4k Louis stays off of social media and mostly out of the public eye as much as he can. So, when his publicist calls him at 7 AM to tell him that Harry Styles is releasing a Rolling Stone article in which his name appears many times he doesn't know what he is supposed to feel. “I got an email from Harry Styles’ team today about a piece in Rolling Stone. You are mentioned a few times and Mr. Styles wants your approval.” Louis can feel his heart drop and sudden panic makes his head feel heavy. He is quick to calm himself down and realize it could just be about their time in One Direction. “Ah, like music-related and shit?” He asks in hopes she will confirm it’s only about One Direction and he can go back to sleep. “Some parts, yes. I have sent it over to your email. Just to get an idea, It’s a..- its dropping for Pride Month.”

❖ sunflowers, sunshine, and you | soldouthaz | enemies to lovers - slight angst - 28k Sunshine county is small but mighty and Harry takes pride in knowing nearly each and every person that lives inside of it. For nearly eleven years now he’s been sheriff, and not one of them he’s ever regretted settling down here. He knows the road names like the back of his hand, knows the people and the animals and the way the world works here. In all of the time he’s been here, not a thing has changed. So, all things considered, when he starts seeing a beat up pickup truck roaming through town with plates he’s never seen before, Harry, to be frank, jumps on that like a fly on fresh dog shit.

❖ wake the morn and greet the dawn (with hearts entwined and free) | mixedfandomfics | selkies - mysthical - scottish folklore - implied/referenced homophobia - attempted kidnapping - ableist language - 21k It was a great storm that sent Harry ashore. Grandmothers professed they had not seen its like in a generation, and fathers lost their sons to the sea.

❖ Gimme Some Sugar | nonsensedarling | mutual pining - fluff - humor - no smut - 14k Louis is scheduled to work an overnight shift with Harry, the hot new pastry chef, to complete a special order. Into the late hours of the night, they bond over music and the ability to make each other laugh like no one else... which makes it harder and harder for Louis to hide his crush. Maybe it won't be so bad if he can't. * Or an AU inspired entirely by a manip of Harry with highlights.

❖ Meant To Be (Arse First) | Anonymous | soulmates - soulmate-identifying marks - fluff - meet-cute - bad jokes - humor - 5k Zayn groans in response, and Louis can hear the slow rustle of his bed sheets in the background. “Is it another ‘you woke up in the back parking lot of a Tesco’s with no pants and I need to come get you before the cops do’ panic or more of a 'I can stay in my bed and lend you an ear’ kind of panic, because I drank a lot more than you did last night, Lou.” “Uhh,” Louis replies eloquently, “more like an 'I have two giant, blood red handprints on my naked arse, and no, they aren't from a good shag’ kind of panic.” ------ Or the one where your soulmate mark appears on your body where they first touch you and stays there until they touch you for the first time. Aka the one where Louis's soulmate must like bums.

♦ Hiding Place | alivingfire | friends to lovers - soulmates - soul bond - canon compliant - mutual pining - slow burn - slow build - The X Factor era - 365k Louis never wanted a soulmate, didn’t really care for the whole Bonding thing at all, really. Enter Harry Styles, who’s wanted to be Bonded for as long as he could remember. With one fateful meeting in an X Factor bathroom, Louis gets a dagger on his arm and the realization that just because Harry is his soulmate doesn’t mean it’s mutual. From the X Factor house to Madison Square Garden, from the Fountain Studios stage to stadiums across the world, Louis has to learn to love without losing himself completely, because someday his best friend will Bond to someone and replace Louis as the center of his universe. Meanwhile, Harry begins to think that maybe fate doesn’t actually know what it’s doing after all, because his other half has clearly been right in front of him the whole time. All he has to do now is convince Louis to give them a chance. Or, the canon compliant Harry and Louis love story from the very beginning, where the only difference is that the love between them is literally written on their skin, and there’s only so much they can hide.

[willow-salix]

In Time.

This little ficlet came into my head after a conversation with @sugar-fiend​ that inspired me to think and to write, so this is for her because she’s awesome.

"What was that noise?" A man's voice cut through the quiet of the park, catching Marie’s attention and taking it away from her phone. 

"What noise?" The same noise he had heard came again from the depths of the woman's giant handbag. 

"That noise."

"Oh, that, that's nothing, don't worry about it."

"That is not nothing, that sounded li-" 

"Did you remember to get the sandwiches from the good deli, the one that uses that super crunchy bread and the extra strong cheese? You know I'm not a fan of the weak stuff."

"Yes I went to Freemans…seriously, what is that noise? Don't tell me it's nothing."

"It's noth- hey, leave my bag alone you!" 

The sound of a short scuffle broke out behind her and Marie desperately wanted to turn around and look but knew that would probably be creepy. She didn't want to be that weirdo that sat on benches in the park and stared at people who were trying to eat their lunch. 

"A duck? Seriously? You have a duck in your bag? Where the hell did you get a duck from?" 

The man sounded so done that Marie had to stifle her giggle before they heard her. 

"It's only a baby one," the woman argued. 

"That is not the point. You can't keep it."

"Sure I can, he can float in the bath or something."

"No he- he cannot float in the bath!" 

"Why?" The woman sounded shocked and there was a surprised little quack as she evidently grabbed the duck to examine it. "Are his little feets OK? Can't he swim? Don't all ducks float?" 

"I meant he can't just float in the tub, he needs a lot more than that," the man's sigh floated on the breeze yet she still heard it perfectly. 

"What else does he need? I already gave him a name, it's Fernando."

"Fernando? It's a duck!" 

"So that means he can't have a fancy name? What are you, a speciesest now?" 

"That's not even a word!" 

"Look, he's fine, look how cute he is!" 

"Where did you even get him?" 

"Dude on a street corner sold him to me for an ice cream."

"An ice- you bought a duck from a man on the street?" 

"Well, yeah, wouldn't you have?" 

"No! I wouldn't buy a duck from anyone!" 

"Seems like that's a you problem right there. Gimme my sandwich, he might like some of the softer bread in the middle."

"Don't fill him up on bread, he needs proper food designed for his small stomach."

"Because he's a baby!" the woman cooed. 

Marie heard another tiny noise from the duck and even she had to admit that it sounded pretty cute. 

"You need to give him to a sanctuary or a farm or something."

"That's far too sensible, besides I've adopted him now. You don't just buy a duck to give him away again, that's mean. I'm his mumma now. He's imprinted on me."

"When did you buy him?" 

"Like an hour ago. The dude said he was the last one and no one wanted him and that he was going to drown him if no one took him."

"Drown a duck?" The man didn't sound too convinced by that idea. 

"It was a legitimate concern, OK? It's not like we don't have anywhere for him to stay. Please?" 

"No! You are not keeping the duck, there's a pond over there, you can let him go later. He's probably been taken from there anyway and his mother is probably looking for him."

"The man said he hatched him himself."

"He also sold him for an ice-cream, you can't believe anything he says."

"Scott said I can keep him."

"Why am I not surprised? I don't care, you aren't keeping the duck. It's a duckling, you don't even know how to look after a duckling."

"I could learn."

"No. Promise me you'll put him back into the wild."

"I'll promise to think about it."

"No, you'll do it." 

The woman huffed loudly, obviously sulking. 

"Well, you're no fun."

"So you constantly tell me."

"Why am I with you again?" 

"It's a mystery. Here," Marie heard the rustling of a paper bag. "Eat your sandwich, I made sure they put only the thinnest spread of pickle on it."

"Thank you," the woman took the sandwich and the sound of more rustling came from behind as the woman unwrapped it and started to eat. 

"That duck just pecked my sandwich," the man said a few minutes later, in between them chatting about their week and the woman telling him some gossip about a woman named Cleo.

"He's hungry, can I just get him some food and fatten him up a bit before I release him? Give him a good meal?" 

"Maybe," the man conceded. 

"Here Ferdy, have another bit." The duck quacked happily. 

"You could at least feed him from your own sandwich." 

"Yours is wholemeal, that's gotta be better for him, right?" 

"Probably," the man sighed. 

Marie listened with half an ear to the rest of their conversation as they finished their lunches and started saying their goodbyes. 

"Remember your promise," the man reminded her. 

"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled but she didn't sound like she really meant it. 

Far too curious for her own good, Marie turned in her seat and glanced casually over at them. 

The man had reddish hair streaked through with pale grey, although it was brushed neatly back from his face in a side part that swooped over to curl at his temple. He had on a pair of wire rimmed glasses that did nothing to hide the dazzling turquoise colour of his eyes. He smiled at the woman, the little lines around his eyes deepening and Marie realised he was actually quite handsome. A silver fox they called them. He was dressed quite normally in casual jeans and a shirt covered with a light jacked, but the woman was not. 

She had bright lilac hair and was wearing some kind of mishmash of clothing styles, a long floaty skirt that looked like a patchwork blanket, a black peasants blouse but with a biker jacket on top and clumpy army boots. She returned the man's smile with one of her own, her eyes crinkling in much the same way his had, then playfully stuck her tongue out at him. 

Marie could honestly say she was surprised, they had sounded much younger. To her anyone over the age of thirty was nearing ancient times, so it was nice to see that older people could still have fun. 

"Such abuse even after I bought you lunch," the man said, standing up. It was then that Marie saw they were holding hands. He tugged her to her feet and handed her her bag. 

"Release the duck."

"Maybe," she retorted. She placed the bag back down and lifted up on her tiptoes, her arms looping around his neck. 

"Bribing me with kisses won't work," he told her, but he kissed her anyway. 

Marie had expected them to share a quick, chaste kiss, since they were in public and you know, old, but she'd never been more wrong. 

The man's arms slipped around her waist, pulling her in closer and Marie had to look away as one of his hands drifted down to her plump backside. How embarrassing. 

"I have to go," the man said, breaking their kiss. "I have a lecture at two and you know they don't give those spots out easily."

"Bullshit, you know they begged you to talk, you're too modest."

"Modesty is not a crime," he told her, releasing his hold on her and stepping back. 

"Fine, go, leave me and our son to fend for ourselves."

"You're not keeping the duck."

"Yeah yeah, go do your boring lecture thing. I'll see you later."

"Woman, you're a liability," he grumbled as he walked away. 

The woman giggled to herself as he left. Turning she saw Marie still staring and smiled at her. 

"You good, kid?" 

"Yeah," Marie blushed, embarrassed at being caught staring at them. "Sorry, I didn't mean to watch you. It was just nice to see that ol-" 

"Older people can still do park dates and kiss like you teenagers?" 

"Yeah, I guess..."

"When you find the right person you'll know it, don't let age stop you from enjoying yourself. Besides, I'm only 54, I'm hardly over the hill," the woman laughed as she reached for her bag. 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to imply-" Now that she could see her properly Marie saw that the woman was actually still quite pretty, even if her eyeliner was a bit too young for her. 

"It's fine," the woman laughed. "I was only joking." 

Marie smiled back, the woman's friendliness putting her at ease. As she watched the woman picked up her back carefully and hung it from her shoulder. 

"Guess I had better go, I need to get this little one some proper food." She opened her bag to show Marie the contents as she passed, revealing a cute little duckling nestled in one of the inner pockets on a bed of kleenex.

"I'm keeping the duck," the woman told her. 

"That man won't be happy with that," Marie laughed. 

The woman shrugged, not looking the slightest bit bothered. 

"Believe me I've brought home worse and no doubt I'll do worse in the future. If he's not used to me now, with all the years we've been married he's never going to be."

"How long have you been married? Marie had to ask, it couldn't be that long, surely. 

"Twenty-five years in October, he knows me well enough by now and I him. I can guarantee you that he'll have gone online to look up duck care and will have ordered everything we need for little Ferdy by the time he gets home. He always does. He grumbles at me but he always gives in."

"That's nice," Marie said, unable to believe that the couple she had seen hadn't been in the first flushes of dating as she had assumed but been married for so long, longer than her parents actually and they barely spoke to each other. She just hoped that she was lucky enough to find someone she still liked after all that time, let alone someone she'd snog in the park on a Wednesday lunchtime. 

Marie watched as the woman walked away, chatting to the little duck in her handbag and Marie sent up a heartfelt prayer that she would be half as interesting as that when she got older. 

Substitute wife for husband and yeahhhh

[redrobinfection]

(16) Graveyard

SociallyAwkwardFox’s Spooktober (2018) - Day 16 “Graveyard”

Tim & Damian | Implied JayTim | Implied DickDami | College AU | No Capes | Crack | actual discussion of literature | Dick Grayson was adopted by the Drakes instead of the Waynes | Want to write/create with me? Find the prompt list here!

~*~

"How about four out of seven?" Tim asked with a shrug, winding up the toilet paper roll again.

Damian, his fellow barista, threw his roll at Tim's head, missing wildly. He glared. "You cheated, Drake!"

Tim rolled his eyes as he retrieved Damian's roll and began winding it up too. "How could I cheat at coffee cup bowling, ‘Wayne’?"

"You wind your roll too tightly. It doesn't unravel as much when you pitch it and thus has more mass by the time it hits the cups."

Tim raised his eyebrows. "What are you now, a physics major? That just sounds like strategy, dude. You are free to roll your roll as tightly as you'd like. That isn't against the rules."

Damian fumed. "The rules you made up! This is why I said we should use the rice crispy ba--customer."

Tim whirled on the spot, seeing that, indeed, a paying customer had entered their little, semi-enclosed coffee shop. Outside, a few students sat or sprawled over the sectional couches that filled the large basement of the university student union in which the shop was located.

Tim turned and vaulted over the counter. He heard a quiet "-tch-" from Damian as he walked to the hinged raise-able section of the counter and let himself in.

Tim straightened his apron and stepped up the register with a smile. The customer stood about five feet from the register, head tilted back, studying the menu board over Tim's head with bleary eyes. The guy was like a zombie, he was that exhausted. Tim cut his eyes over to the clock on the wall. 3:45 am. Hell of a time for coffee.

Tim glanced over his shoulder at Damian, who was reawakening the cranky espresso machine with deft fingers. Seven hours and forty-five minutes with Damian "the Demon " Wayne down, only four hours and fifteen minutes to go. Tim turned back to their customer and sighed. This was going to be a loooooooong morning.

At second glance, there was something familiar about the guy, but Tim couldn't put his finger on where he knew him. The guy had pretty teal eyes, but they were reddened and dull, like he hadn't closed them except to blink in way too long. He was also pretty well cut, Tim noticed, with clearly muscled arms and pecs so defined that Tim could clearly see them through the man's sweater. Maybe that's how Tim knew him? Maybe he'd seen him in the UREC weight room?

The guy's most eye-catching feature by far was the white forelock that curled down over his forehead. He was the third person Tim had met to have a whitened forelock like that; the other two were fraternal twins who had had small patches of albinism right at their widows peaks which affected both the skin and hair. Tim idly wondered if this guy's white lock was natural too. In any case, it looked frickin' cool, a lot cooler than his own; the best thing he could say about his own hair was that he could pull off the 90's curtain cut plus semi-mullet well enough that he could go an entire semester on a single haircut.

Tim was drawn out of his thoughts when dude finally stepped up to the counter and began to speak.

"Uh, hi, could I get a large, double-shot caramel latte?"

"Absolutely. How many pumps of caramel do you want?" Tim asked cheerily.

The guy looked up from digging through his overly stuffed messenger bag. "Uhh…the normal four should be fine."

"Okay, that will be $6.47. Can I get a name for the order?"

The guy didn't look up this time. "Uh, Jason. Gimme a sec', I know my wallet is at the bottom of this thing somewhere."

"No problem, take your time. It's not like we have a line, anyway," Tim joked.

This guy looked so dead right now--inside and out--that if he didn't find his wallet, then Tim would probably just buy the coffee for the guy himself. He understood better than anyone the sudden need for caffeine at odd hours of the day. He's not sure how he would have finished half his computer science projects this term without a much-needed double-espresso every couple of hours, to be honest.

The guy--'Jason' apparently--finally fished out a small money clip then handed over a student ID card. "Put it on my Dining Dollars, please."

"Yeah, no probl- wait a minute!" Tim cut off, staring. Suddenly, it had hit Tim where he knew this guy. "Aren't you that kid who always sits at the front of Professor Hyatt's nine-fifteen, Tuesday-Thursday, Modern European Literature and answers all the questions?"

The dude raised an eyebrow. "Uh, yeah. Why…? Wait…" He squinted and leaned in. "Aren't you the kid who once tried to sit all the way back in the AV booth, since, and I quote, 'the back wasn't far enough back'?"

Tim grinned as he swiped the ID card through the register. "Haha, yeah."

Damian moved as if to step up to the counter, the guy's drink in hand, but stopped dead about a foot away. He stared.

"Wait. Aren't you the guy who always comes in, gets tea, and sits in the window over there and reads romance novels?" Damian asked, eying him appraisingly.

The dude huffed. "Yes. My name is Jason--by the way--and they're not romance novels, it's classic lit. Now can I get my coffee?"

Damian handed the coffee over the counter, but raised an eyebrow skeptically. "You mean to tell me Rebecca is not a romance novel?"

"Wait, what!? Do you mean Daphne du Maurier's Rebecca?" Tim asked as he handed Jason's ID card back over the counter.

Damian nodded wordlessly. Tim snorted, then said, "That's not a romance! That's a totally a murder mystery! You must be confusing it with Jane Eyre. I get those mixed up too."

Jason nodded in agreement, tucking his ID away before taking his first sip of coffee. He moaned, his eyes fluttering for a moment as he savored in the sweet bliss of piping hot caffeine at 3:49 in the morning, then he looked at Damian and said, "Well, actually, I'll give you that one, uh…" --he paused to squint at Damian's name tag-- "...'Damian'; Rebecca is a modern romance novel by classification, but it's also a crime thriller just like--whazzatsay?--'Tim' said."

He turned to Tim. "I'm not surprised you'd confuse it with Jane Eyre, considering that a lot of scholars believe du Maurier adapted it from Jane Eyre."

"Wait, really?" Tim said with a laugh. "I'm glad I'm not the only one thinking that! Rebecca is like the less boring version of Jane Eyre."

Jason froze halfway into sitting down in one of the arm chairs that lined the wall closest to the door and looked up at Tim as if he had just suggested burning down the library or something similarly unthinkable. "Whaaaaaat?! I can't believe you just implied that any of the Brontë sisters' works is boring!"

Tim laughed again. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I was only twelve when I read Jane Eyre, so maybe I'd enjoy it more if I read it again now--with a mature perspective--but I remember Rebecca being a blast for thirteen-year-old me so…" He smiled, then shrugged.

Jason stared. "Twelve? Thirteen? Jeez. What else were you trying to read that young?"

"I mean, I read Moby Dick the year before that, in sixth grade," Tim admitted, shrugging until his shoulders hit his ears.

Jason gave him a flat stare. "Moby Dick? Moby fucking Dick? You've gotta be kidding me. And lemme guess, you also thought Herman Melville's masterpiece was a load of crock?"

Tim laughed, but shook his head and waved his hands placatingly. "No, no, no. I only understood, like, every fifth word--so.many.whaling.terms!--and it took me four months to get halfway in only to realize there was no way I was going to finish it by the end of the school year--I ended up skipping to the end and guessing for a lot of the AR test questions--but I definitely got the sense that it was a seminal work and that I was just too young to appreciate it. I've always meant to go back and try it again, but I still haven't gotten around to it."

"Why the hell were you trying to read Moby Dick at the age of twelve?" Jason asked incredulously, leaning back in the chair and taking a long sip of his coffee.

"Eleven, but, ah, well, my mom was convinced I had to be The BestTM in everything, so she pushed me to max out my Accelerated Reader level by the end of sixth grade and demanded that I always get the most AR points of anyone in my class, so I read a lot of the 20 point-and-up books." Tim tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I think Moby Dick was 47 points...Rebecca was 25...Jane Eyre was 33..."

Jason stared, shaking his head slowly. "So…what? You're fine with Moby Dick, a romance of the American Renaissance, but a gothic romance of the British Victorian era like Jane Eyre isn't good enough for you? Next you'll try to tell me you think Wuthering Heights is a snooze fest!"

"Well, I mean, I never could get into it, so…"

Jason slammed both hands down on the arms of his chair, incensed. "Okay, Mister, get your butt over here and sit down, we need to have a talk about Victorian Gothic and why, hands down, it is some of the best literature ever written."

Tim laughed again, then bit his lip, considering the offer. He glanced around the nearly empty coffee shop. Then he leaned over the counter and looked out into the lounge--there were exactly four people there and only one of them wasn't completely asleep in their books. Yeah, he could probably afford to humor the man.

He turned to Damian. "Hey, Dames, I'm going to make myself a coffee and take my break. You good to hold down the fort?"

"I told you not to call me that," Damian snapped, but there was no real heat to it; he liked to pretend that he hated the guts of all his coworkers, but Tim knew that he was Damian's favorite. "However, yes, I think I can manage. Go take your damned break, but when you come back I fully expect a rematch in bowling…and don't you dare cheat this time!"

Tim rolled his eyes and groaned, then turned toward trying to coax Ol' 'Spressolino--their affectionate name for the cantankerous espresso machine--into spitting out a double-shot for him. "It's not cheating, but fine, we'll do it your way," Tim replied. "But I'm telling you, you have to buy those rice crispy balls. I definitely don't want to have to explain to Barbara why some of the food on sale looks like it went through the spin cycle in a dorm washer."

Damian grinned smugly. "My pleasure. It will be a small price to pay in order to ensure your swift defeat."

Tim shook his head, grabbed his espresso in one hand and two biscotti off the front counter in the other, ducked under the counter drawbridge, then slid into the armchair across from Jason. He offered one of the biscotti to the other man and Jason accepted the free food with an appreciative smile. He already looked ten times less zombie-like, thanks to the caffiene, and he was honestly pretty damn attractive.

"Okay," Tim said, peeling the wrapper off his own biscotti and dunking it into his bitter cup of joy, "Educate me."

Between sips of coffee and bites of biscotti, Jason began explaining his thoughts on the romantic period of literature, but barely a minute into his lecture, a plastic-wrapped, ball-shaped rice crispy treat about the size of a cantelope whizzed by their feet and crashed into the ten extra-large paper coffee cups arranged in a bowling triangle at one end of the coffee shop, scattering them in a definitive strike.

Jason jumped in his seat and looked around wildly. "What the fuck?"

Tim sighed. "Daaaaaaamiaaaaaaan…"

"Shut up, Drake! I'm practicing. I need to hone my skills and adjust my form so I can thoroughly crush you in our next round," Damian called back. He marched from the counter to the end of the shop to retrieved his plastic-wrapped projectile.

Jason blinked in confusion. "I repeat: what the ever-loving fuck?"

Tim sighed again, then explained, saying, "It gets pretty boring in here during the graveyard shift, so we invented a game, coffee cup bowling. Normally, we'd sleep or study, but Damian finished his exams two days ago and I don't really study for exams, per se-"

"And sleep is for the weak," Damian finished, nodding as he walked past them carrying his sweet, gooey ammunition.

Tim nodded sagely, in agreement. "Sleep is for the weak."

Jason glanced over Tim's shoulder at the coffee cup bowling 'pins' and then over his shoulder at Damian as he lined up another throw. "You guys are insane," he declared.

Tim made a dismissive gesture. "I mean this is my third graveyard shift in a row and Damian here is almost 20 hours into a 24-hour stint. After that much sleep deprivation, you'd lose your sanity too."

Jason tilted his head in acknowledgement. "Fair enough."

"If you want, you're welcome to join us after we finish our coffee and literature talk," Tim offered amiably.

Jason watched as Damian threw another strike, sending one cup so far it landed in the pot of the ficus in the corner, and raised his eyebrows. "You know what…why not." He turned back to Tim with a grin. "I could use a bit of fun before I go back to work on my Native American Lit paper."

"Are you a lit major?" Tim asked curiously.

"I am."

Tim nodded. "That makes sense."

"And you?"

"I'm a CS major--computer science."

"That makes sense," Jason echoed, grinning.

Tim grinned back at him and waved a hand. "Okay, so as you were saying…?"

"Yes, as I was saying…"

Jason continued his little lecture while they continued sipping their coffee and nibbling on the biscotti. When they had finished--the coffee, not the discussion, because Tim was pretty sure Jason would go on for hours about literature once you got him started--they joined Damian in a game of "ten-cup."

It was in the middle of this heated battle of cups and marshmallow-bonded puffed-rice cereal balls that their next customer found them fifteen minutes later. The man, dressed in flower printed leggings and a black hoodie with "Gotham University Aerial Arts" printed across the chest in blue, took one look at them and grinned.

"Oh, hey! Coffee-cup bowling! I love that game! Do you think I could interrupt you guys for just a sec to get some hot chocolate?"

All three of them--the two baristas plus their customer--turned and stared.

"Hot… wait, what?" Jason said, laughing a little. "Man, it's like 4:30 in the morning. Why are you getting a hot chocolate at 4:30 in the morning?"

The man laughed, too, shrugging before he explained, saying, "I don't like tea or coffee all that much, but I just finished a 20 page paper on ethics in police enforcement and I need a pick me up. I need to get my warm fuzzies going again."

Tim rolled his eyes and sighed, moving back toward the counter to get the man his drink. "You're going to end up being the cuddliest cop on the street, Dick."

"You know it, Timmy!" the man--'Dick' apparently--exclaimed, pulling Tim into a bear hug when he made the mistake of passing too close to Dick on his way to the counter. The hug escalated into a full on octopus hug as he lifted his legs to wrap around Tim's hips. Tim, for his part, ignored the grapple, opening the leaf in the counter and hobbling over to the drink bar with the human cephalopod still attached.

Damian and Jason stared. Damian cleared his throat and eyed Dick with poorly disguised interest. "Wait, do you know this man, Drake?"

Tim blinked dully as he turned around, a cup in one hand and a packet of instant hot chocolate in the other. "Yes. He's my brother." Dick made a squeeing noise and nuzzled his head into Tim's neck. Tim sighed. "My adopted brother," he amended testily.

Dick laughed, dropped his feet back onto the floor and stood up. He nearly wrung Tim's neck as he tried to hug him around the shoulders. "Awww, don't be like that, Tim. We haven't seen each other in two whole weeks and I needed my Tim-hugs! Gotta meet my cuddle-quota."

Tim shook his head and handed the hot chocolate back over his shoulder. "You're insufferably, insatiably clingy when you're this tired, Dick. Go home and sleep."

Dick finally released him to take the drink. He took a sip of the hot chocolate, sighing in appreciation. "Thanks, Tim, and yeah, but, only if you do the same. You're just as bad as me when you haven't slept, if not worse."

"Can't. Working," Tim answered curtly, vaulting the counter to escape before Dick's grabby hands could reach for him again. His brother wasn't wrong; Tim was always up for a good cuddle after a long stint without proper sleep, but he didn't like public displays of affection.

Dick took one look at the nearly empty coffee shop, the three of them, their game, and then laughed out loud. "Ahhh, the days of getting paid to drink coffee and make up games at 4:30 in the morning. I kind of miss it."

"Would you care to join us," Damian asked abruptly. Dick brightened.

"Absolutely!"

And so that was how the four of them ended up bowling for empty coffee cups with rice crispy treats the size of spaghetti squash while blasting ABBA’s greatest hits--Dick's terrible, wonderful idea--until the sun rose and their shift ended, at eight AM.

By the time the four of them walked out the door, Dick was trying to convince Damian to join him in the aerials gym before breakfast, and Damian, clearly eager to do anything with the handsome college senior, accepted readily. Jason and Tim, on the other hand, were back to discussing literature over coffee--now focused on the merits and downfalls of contemporary science fiction and fantasy as an art form--and making their way to the East Campus Dining Hall, so they could continue their discussion over breakfast.

Tim snorted softly as he listened to Jason list all the ways Dune defined an era of sci-fi/fantasy, then smiled at the way Jason took his hand--without seeming to realize it--to pull him forward after the crosswalk light changed out of Tim's line of sight. Oh, yeah, this one was totally gay/bi/pan and he was definitely asking him out the minute he saw the opportunity, Tim decided.

He smiled. Who would of thought he'd come out of last night's graveyard shift not only having seen his demon coworker and his older brother hit it off--of all things!--but having met someone for himself too! He laughed, thinking, you never know what crazy things you might see, or the people you might meet, at the campus coffee shop at 4 o' clock in the morning!

[ghostiewriter]

I had an idea for 39, I can picture them dress shopping for a kook event kie has to go to and shes getting jjs opinion on them

Ahhh I’m sorry this took so long but I hope you like it! Also thank you for saving me having to come up with something totally alone 💀😂

Word Count: 2.3K

Prompt: “What colour do you like better?”

“So, what is this one for again?”

“The annual country club charity gala.”

“I thought that was last month.”

“Yeah, they have multiple galas, dude. Catch up.”

Kiara was appreciative of the life she was given. She understood her privileges, and she as grateful to live in a world where she didn’t have to worry about the food on her plate or the roof over her head or the money in her account. Her parents had worked hard and it paid off. When she met the pogues, her appreciation grew but she also learnt that she didn’t have to be the only one with these privileges. The boys were stubborn though, so most of it was subtle and never made them feel like she was treating them like charity cases. And the boys also appreciated that despite her background, Kie wasn’t like the usual kooks who rubbed their money in your face. She was humble about it. She used her privileges for good whenever she could.

However, it was easy to forget that Kie was a kook sometimes. Even she, herself, forgot sometimes. She was a pogue at heart, through and through. But then she was thrown into the deep-end of the kook lifestyle by her parents and it was always a harsh reminder. The worst ones were the galas—because what else did rich people have to do in their lives other than have countless parties and events they claimed were for charity and the greater good but was just an excuse to dress up and show off? The answer was nothing. They had nothing else better to do.

Kiara despised these events with a passion. She was all up for raising money for charities and supporting the local organisations that could achieve so much with enough funding. In fact, Kie had dragged the boys down with her to help in local beach clean-ups and charity events where they could help support. However, these kook events just sucked the charity out of the galas and left her with a night of dealing with passive aggressive comments and nosey adults who needed to mind their business.

But no matter how hard she tried, she could never get out of them. It seemed like her mother always had the perfect blackmail to use against her, she knew the perfect things to say that trapped Kiara and gave her no choice but to go to these galas. It was how she now found herself in the mainland boutiques, searching for a new dress. Originally, she had planned to drag Sarah with her but the other claimed she was too wrapped up on event planning that she didn’t have enough time. So, Kiara took her next best options: JJ Maybank, the only person who was free to join her on a day trip to the mainland.

However, dress shopping was a little out of JJ’s comfort zone. When Kie said that they were heading to the mainland, he was expecting something a little more exciting or action packed, not following Kie around some small boutique as he carried the dresses she was picking out of the racks and ignoring the judgemental stares he was getting from people far more appropriately dressed than he was. Apparently the rich weren’t huge fans of tanks and khaki short and combat boots. Sucks to be them.

“They really have no life beyond playing dress up, do they?” JJ muttered as he watched Kie pick up two dresses: one silver and one a light pink. She tilted her head, looking them up and down before she slipped them back onto the rack.

“It’s all they are good at.” She retorted with a snort, not giving JJ much warning before she began to head to the other side of the store.

“You know, for someone who is adamant that she hates these things, you sure take them seriously.” He commented, glancing down at the pile of dresses he had been lugging around since they entered the shop around forty minutes ago.

“Unless I want my head bitten off by my mother, I kinda have to.” She said with a shrug as she took out two dresses before turning to him. “What colour do you like better?”

He glanced between them. One was black—long sleeved, low back and the hem was brushing the floor despite the fact she was holding them up. The second one was red, and JJ noted the long slit that was running up the left side of the dress. The image of Kiara in either of them made him clear his throat a little, hoping that his cheeks weren’t noticeably burning up. “You look hotter in red.”

“Charming.” She deadpanned but she placed the red dress in the pile before she continued to move along the racks. Eventually, Kiara decided she had enough options and dragged him to the dressing room.

JJ sat on the small couch across from the dressing room, head leaning against the wall as his fingers tapped aimlessly against his thighs. “Kie, it’s been like two hours. How much longer?” He whined.

“It’s been like two minutes, dumbass.” She retorted from behind the curtain. “Just gimme a sec.”

“How long does it take to put on one dress?” He muttered. “You know, if you need help undressing, I am happy to offer my assistance.”

“I’m gonna pretend you want to keep your balls and didn’t say that.”

“Ooh, mama’s mad.” He could almost imagine the glare she was sending him through the curtain. “All I’m saying is—” But the words were lost the second the curtain opened and he saw Kiara on the other side.

She was wearing the red dress—the one on the top of the pile. JJ didn’t even know where to focus: on the slit that ran up her leg and made them look never-ending, or the way that it clung onto her body so perfectly like it was made for her, or how the crimson colour complimented her skin and made her look absolutely stunning. He was pretty sure some higher power was laughing down at him and the stuttering mess he had become.

“Uh, yeah,” He mumbled, scratching his nose. “You...it…yeah.”

Kiara smiled a little. “Yeah?”

“That one, should definitely wear that one.” He finally got out, gulping a little before he finally looked up at her.

“I still have five more dresses to try one.” She narrowed her eyes at him before she turned back around, closing the curtain behind him.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” He let out a sigh, running his hands over his face. He could barely survive one dress, let alone five more.

The next hour or so seemed to pass excruciatingly slow. JJ was pretty sure he was in hell and this was his torture, having to watch Kie model all these dresses and look jaw-droppingly beautiful and not be able to do anything about it. It was like the universe decided being stuck in the friend-zone wasn’t bad enough.

Eventually, she was done and sent him to wait outside whilst she paid for the dress she chose. He wasn’t sure it was a blessing or not that he didn’t know which one she would wear. Maybe because he knew that he wouldn’t be the only one that would see her in that dress, and unlike himself, maybe they had a chance.

When Kie exited the store, she gave him a grin before she began tugging his hand as they headed towards a store across the street—further away from the dock where he suspected they would be going.

“Did Cinderella remember she needed some glass slippers?” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No,” She turned to give him a wink. “She just remembered that her Prince Charming needs a suit.” He tried to ignore the butterflies in his stomach as he convinced himself that she was just joking back with him.

You see, JJ was so caught up on the dazed state he felt after seeing Kie in all those dresses that it took him up until he was being shoved into the dressing room that he realised what it all meant. She was taking him to the charity gala. He was her date to the charity gala. And just when JJ assumed the torturing couldn’t get worse.

That was how JJ found himself standing amongst some of the richest people on the island, champagne glass in hand as he and John B tried to ignore the judgemental glares being sent their way. They had been told they would meet their dates at the gala, and now both of them were really regretting that plan.

“I don’t know, dude, she never said she was taking you as a friend. Maybe it does mean something.” John B suggested, sparking a little flame of hope in JJ that he quickly extinguished.

“She also never said that we weren’t going as friends.” He muttered with a shrug, downing the rest of the bubbly liquid with one gulp.

“You both are the most oblivious people, I swear.” John B huffed with a shake of his head. “And that’s coming from me of all people.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“THAT!” John B exclaimed, although after receiving some pointed looks, he quickly lowered his voice. “You just proved my p—holy shit!”

JJ’s head snapped around just in time to see Kiara and Sarah at the top of the stairs, however, the blond couldn’t even bring himself to look at the middle Cameron, his eyes were completely drawn to Kie.

And she was in that fucking red dress.

If JJ was struggling for words when he saw her in the dressing room, he was absolutely rendered speechless now. She looked beautiful—no, better than beautiful. She looked like a goddess. JJ had to pinch himself as she walked down the steps towards him just to make sure he was actually alive and hadn’t just died and went to heaven.

And when she stepped off the final step, she couldn’t help but smirk as she placed a finger under his chin. “Better shut your mouth, you’re catching flies, Jay.”

Oh, he was definitely dead.

JJ wasn’t sure how long had passed but he could barely take his eyes off her, and it seems like the other guests couldn’t either. He hated the jealousy that flared up inside him, mostly because he knew that he had no right to feel this way. But that didn’t stop him.

He tried to be subtle about it: stayed by her side for the whole night, casually had his arm around her in any situation he could, made sure to give slightly pointed looks to anyone that stared a little too long at Kiara. He thought he was being subtle but Kiara noticed. Of course she noticed, she wasn’t blind.

They finally had a moment together when they were on the dance floor, a slow song playing around them as the couples populated the dance floor. They were surrounded by people and yet, they still felt like they were in their own bubble.

“So, how pissed is your mum?” He asked, a small smirk on his lips. However, he noticed her confused glance and quickly continued. “You know, that you brought me and not some kook eye candy.”

“I’d say you offer better eye candy than any of them could.” She commented with a small laugh. “But, surprisingly, she wasn’t too bothered. She expected it.”

His eyebrows furrowed together. “She did?”

“Jay…” She trailed off, her hands around his neck faltering a little as she stopped moving, now just staring at him.

“Have I told you how breath-taking you look?” JJ spoke up, desperate to change the topic of conversation. “I mean, I hate to say I told you so but you do look pretty hot in red—”

“JJ.” She said in a soft but firm voice. “Why do you think I brought you as my date?”

He gulped a little, putting on that usual smile he used whenever he was uncomfortable or hurt. She hated that he was using it with her. “Just thought you wanted to get some revenge on your mum since she dragged you to this thing.” He said with a shrug. “Who better to bring into the kook-fest than good ol’ JJ Maybank, right?”

“You can be really dense sometimes, Maybank.” She muttered, her words contradicting the soft expression on her face.

“What?” His voice barely a whisper. They both stood still in the middle of the dance floor, faces inches away from each other.

“I like you, Jay.” She whispered, smiling at him. “And I invited you because I thought you’d finally catch the hint.”

JJ looked at her, mouth slightly agape as he tried to process what she saying. “Y-You like me? As in, like-like me?”

She laughed a little, nodding her head. “Yeah, I like-like you.”

His grin grew a little. “I like-like you too.”

“Good, because otherwise it would be really awkward if I did this.” She murmured before she took his face in her hands, bringing his lips down to her own.

His hands instantly tightened their hold on her waist, tugging her a little closer. They became wrapped up in one another, neither one bothered by the judgemental looks and disgust from the people around them. In that moment, it was just JJ and Kiara. Just Kiara and JJ.

When they finally pulled away from each other, foreheads pressed against each other and matching grins on their faces, JJ found himself once again believing he was dead and in heaven. “I’ve been waiting so long to do that.”

She hummed. “Me too.”

“And to tell you that your ass looks great in this dress.”

“Always the charmer.”

“Only for you.”

“Your ass looks great too in those pants.”

“I know.”