#cause I also told myself that I’d start querying now ...... and I’m not doing that so.....

[wavesmp3]

the urge to focus on school and finish this semester vs the urge to work on oasis second draft

[spunkpunx]

Bittersweet Bundle Of Misery - Graham Coxon

Plot: Reader is dating Alex James, and finds herself miserable, but finds comfort in a tumultuous affair with his friend, and guitarist, Graham Coxon.

I will probably do a part 2.

Word count: 5153!

Warnings: Drugs, Alcoholism, Smut, Angst, Smoking

April 1996

Alex loved France. Not only that, but the French loved him, specifically the women. I didn't need to understand his words to recognise the flirty tone in his voice when he spoke to the waitresses, the bar staff, in fact, basically any attractive woman who fluttered her eyelashes at him. I wasn't sure how to feel about it. Of course, I knew Alex well, so I was never under the impression that he would be a devout, faithful partner, but I also never expected him to be so explicit in his relationships with other women. We both considered the relationship open, but Alex was the only one who seemed to take advantage of that situation.

I found solace in hanging around with Graham. The tour was stressful. We both struggled. We all drank, but for Graham it was a necessity. I spent more time with Graham than with Alex, but of course he didn’t care. The words “jealous” and “possessive” were not in his vocabulary, but then again, neither was “monogamous”.

I was tired and miserable. The venues where the band played could be stubborn about sound-checking themselves. This resulted in a lot of arguments, as I was strictly instructed that the band were only to have their own sound technician (me). Alex and Damon could be rude. Since I’d been dating Alex, nobody took my work seriously. I stopped being a technician with almost seven years experience on tour, and became “Alex’s girlfriend helping out”. The crew could be horribly sexist at times. Even Ivan dismissed me when I brought him a problem.

“Get one of the other technicians to look at it,” he said, after I told him that one of the venue’s sound guys had wired the bass into a guitar amp and not the subwoofer. He must have turned up the volume to compensate for the sound and blown the speaker.

“I know what I’m doing! I’ve worked with this band for years!” I ended up snapping. I heard one of the roadies mumble something about a period and it sent me over the edge. Sometimes I got so angry it was like I didn’t have control over my impulses anymore. I told them all to fuck off and stormed out the room, kicking the door with a tremendous thud as I left. After I’d cooled down and returned, the crew tiptoed around me like I’d overreacted. After the gig, Ivan came over to speak to me.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to undermine you. You’re one of the best sound techs we’ve had,” he apologised, giving me a friendly pat on the shoulder. I appreciated the apology, it was the first one I’d had since the tour began.

Alex and I had an argument that night. We argued often, but this was explosive. He came into my room, coked up and horny, sitting next to me on the bed and pressing wet kisses to my neck.

“Are you over your little tantrum?” he asked, kneading my breast a little roughly. I pulled away.

“Little tantrum?” I repeated, surprised at his tactless words. “Everyone has been treating me like shit recently Alex.” He shrugged, running a hand up my thigh over my jeans, toying with my top button.

“Whatever it was. Ivan was trying to help and you just went mental,” he laughed, like it was all a big joke. He pressed his lips against mine and I pushed him away.

“It’s your fault I’ve been feeling like this!” I snapped. “If I didn’t start dating you then people would actually treat me like a professional! All of a sudden Damon is asking the drum tech to check the mic volume before they go on!”

“All of a sudden it’s my fault?” he asked, voice raising slightly. “Just cause you overreacted and bit Ivan’s head off?!”

“You don’t get it Alex! If you were ever actually here you’d understand how I was feeling, but you’re always off snorting lines and banging these fucking French girls!” I shouted at him.

“Well maybe I’d be here more if you actually put out instead of just going off at me!” he yelled back. I stood up, walking across the room with my hair clenched in my fists. I wanted as much distance between us as possible.

“Put out?” I looked at him incredulously. “So you’re only here if you can have sex with me? This relationship only exists so you can rely on me having sex with you whenever you fancy?!” We were both properly shouting now.

“That’s what relationships are! That’s what love is! The only difference between friends and relationships is sex!” he replied, seeing this as perfectly valid reasoning.

“So all I am is sex to you?” I asked, my voice now dangerously softer but still dripping with venom.

“No... That’s not- Stop twisting my fucking words!”

I calmly picked up my cigarette carton and lit one, letting his point ferment.

“Get out,” I spat. He glowered at me, standing up and leaving the room, slamming the hotel room door behind him.

As soon as he left the room, hot tears started spilling down my face, not tears of sadness but of rage. I felt overwhelmed. I smoked a cigarette, then another, the deep inhalation subduing my frustration. I heard a soft knock at the door.

“Piss off Alex!”

“It’s not Alex,” came Graham’s gentle reply. I stood and opened the door, wiping at my cheeks with the back of my hand.

“Gra,” I huffed in relief at his presence.

“I heard you were arguing, I wanted to see you were okay,” he said. It didn’t surprise me he’d heard it. Graham’s room was just across the hall, and we’d not been quiet. “Pub?” he offered, smiling slightly.

“Yeah alright, I’ll just grab my coat.”

We found a small bar not too far away from the hotel. Neither of us spoke particularly good French, but Graham knew enough to order some wine. The Parisians didn’t drink the same way the British did, and both of us were a little too embarrassed to try and order two pints of beer and a pack of cheese and onion crisps. Instead, we sat with a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc and two glasses, hidden away in a back booth and laughing at our clumsy attempts at the French language.

“It’s so embarrassing walking round with Mr Culture speaking fluent French like it’s the most natural thing in the world, meanwhile I struggle asking the man in the shop for a packet of fags,” I complained, chuckling.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what were you arguing about before?” Graham queried.

“Oh, just...” I paused, unsure whether to tell him or whether he’d just agree with Alex. “Well you know how I lost my temper before?” Graham nodded, sucking his lips into his mouth like he always did when he was listening. “Well he made a joke about it, and it pissed me off. I dunno, I feel so tired and miserable recently, and the way everyone has been treating me like I’m totally incompetent at my job is so difficult. Alex is never there, he just swans around doing whatever he wants, meanwhile I just feel so overwhelmed,” I spilled, not even intending to share that much. Something about the build up of emotions in my life and Graham’s reassuring presence at the end of the table made me feel the sudden need to tell him everything. “I just don’t feel happy anymore.”

“I know how you feel, kind of,” Graham reassured, placing his hand over mine, while I took a large swig of wine. Looking back, I think that was the first moment I thought about kissing him. Of course I didn’t, we stayed out most of the night and then stumbled back to the hotel drunk. But I actually considered that maybe I wouldn’t feel so bad if I was dating Graham, not Alex.

October 1996

I never expected the knock at the door. It was a cold night in mid October, so when I opened the door wearing only a large t-shirt and odd socks, the biting breeze nipped at my bare legs. Graham stood there awkwardly, wrapped up in a fleece lined jacket and his eyes slightly glazed in his drunkness. I didn't ask any questions, just greeted him with a hug that lasted a few seconds longer than usual, then invited him in.

Graham wasn't a happy man, but I myself was hardly a ray of sunshine. I sat down next to him on my old settee, lighting a cigarette and refilling my wine glass. I offered him a glass but he shook his head.

"What's up Gra?" I asked him softly, reaching out to cover his hand with my own. He let out a dejected sigh.

"I can't do it anymore (y/n)," he explained. "The band. I'm starting to hate them all. The press, the tours, the people. It's way too fucking much. Damon won't change the music we do, he's being a controlling bastard, and then Alex, fuck." Graham pulled at his earlobe, something I noticed him do often when he was feeling nervous or stressed.

"What is it?"

"He's out living his playboy lifestyle, shagging around, doing lines, drinking champagne. Meanwhile, you just sit around pretending like everything is fine!"

I dropped my hand from his. I wasn't ready for this criticism, especially not from a man who was currently drunk every second of his life.

"It is fine, Gra."

"No it's not, because he barely gives you a backwards glance when he goes out and I have to watch it," he complained. He turned to me, looking over my face like he was drinking it in. "I think you're so beautiful."

"What?"

"So, so fucking beautiful," he repeated. Graham was bad at eye contact, but right now he was drunk, and looking at me with such a sinful look in his gaze. He glanced over my lips, and the small flip in my stomach as he did was my only sign. There had been moments over the past year where Graham and I had shared similar glances, but neither of us acted on impulse, until now.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his. Immediately his hands slipped around my waist, pulling me flush against his body. His tongue slipped into my mouth, and as he deepened the kiss I pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. He assisted my movements, pulling it off to fall lazily on the floor.

His hand travelled down to my underwear, tucking a finger beneath the waistband of my knickers, pausing to see if I stopped him. I did, but only to pull his t-shirt over his head. I had seen Graham without a shirt before, but now I took in his lithe physique and broad shoulders. He slipped his hand to my clit, rubbing it in slow circles. I gasped at his touch and he leant down to brush his lips against my ear.

“You turn me on so much,” he whispered honestly, slipping two fingers inside me and curling them up. I moaned into his neck, pressing a kiss against it. Alex never really bothered with foreplay so this felt like heaven. After a minute he pulled his fingers out to push me down against the sofa, as I pulled him into another hungry kiss. He pushed his hips against mine and I let out another soft moan while he smiled into the kiss. Soon the desperation over took us and I fumbled with his belt, helping him remove the rest of his clothes before he pulled my t-shirt over my head, drinking in my body.

For a second he tucked his hands into my hair, holding my face behind my ears and stroking me cheeks with his thumb, before kissing me playfully on the nose. He pushed himself inside me with a slight groan, watching my face as I let out a satisfied sigh. I felt so appreciated, the way he looked at me was so tender. Unlike my day to day misery with Alex, this felt so raw, so right. He cupped one of my breasts with his hand, kneading it gently as he softly kissed and nipped at my neck. I felt sweat beading along my thighs, pressed into his body as we lay on the sofa, fully naked with the exception of our socks. He picked up the pace, and I could tell he was trying to control his urge to finish as quickly as possible. He rubbed my clit with the rough pad of his thumb, causing me to let out an unexpectedly loud moan as I clenched around him and my body shook. This brought him over the edge and he finished inside of me with a string of swears. He looked at me slightly panicked.

“Are you on birth control?” he asked, and I laughed, nodding, still out of breath and thrumming from my orgasm. He rested his forehead against my own and we lay there for a moment, panting, letting it register what had just occurred. I didn’t feel guilty at all, although I could tell Graham did. Alex had said so many things to me now that I couldn’t feel regret for sleeping with his friend, not when the moment was so sweet. Then he seemed to be pulled back into reality.

“I’m sorry,” he apologised, standing up and looking for his boxers. “I didn’t mean to do that, it wasn’t the plan.” I furrowed my eyebrows slightly.

“The plan? What was the plan?” I asked.

“I was going to tell you I love you, but you weren’t supposed to... You were going to tell me to piss off and then I could lay it to rest. I’m sorry. I’m drunk.” He pulled his boxers up and started looking for his jeans, but I reached out for his hand, pulling him round to look at me. I was still naked, knees drawn up to my chest on the sofa. I saw his eyes soften, his behaviour calm.

“Gra, I don’t want you to go,” I pleaded, my voice coming out a lot quieter than i intended. Alex and I had had another argument, and I was already feeling so lost until Graham showed up.

He paused, looking at out two hands together. I held my breath, waiting for his response. I needed him to make the irresponsible decision. Eventually, he nodded, and I nipped to the bathroom to clean myself up. When I came back in, clean and wearing a t-shirt and knickers, Graham had settled on the settee with the telly on, he’d also pulled his t-shirt on. I came to sit next to him, and he rested his head on my chest slightly while I began to run my fingers through his hair and he hummed contentedly. The show was boring, a late night crime drama. Within a few minutes Graham was snoring softly on my chest. I sipped my wine and smiled to myself.

November 1996

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Graham rolled over with a groan of pleasure, panting with sweat on his brow. I turned on my side to face him and he pulled a stupid face, still lying on his back. I let out a sigh and turned over, away from him.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked, concerned, moving closer and pressing a kiss onto my shoulder. One of his large hands rested on my waist and I suppressed the urge to sniffle.

“We don’t love each other though do we?” I said rhetorically.

“Why’d you say that?”

“Well, if we loved each other, then I’d leave Alex and you’d stop drinking so much.” I felt so bad saying it, but it was true. Even as Graham arrived in a better mood today, there was still an alcoholic taste on his tongue. We’d been seeing each other for over a month, and I knew I wasn’t breaking up with Alex any time soon.

“Maybe you’re right, but still, it feels nice to say, doesn’t it?” he pointed out, nuzzling his head into my neck as he ran his hand round to lay against my stomach, pulling my back closer to his chest.

Sometimes it felt like Alex must have known about me and Graham’s relationship, because he suddenly changed last month. Of course, we still argued. He still enjoyed champagne and cocaine and plenty of women, but god he was good at apologising. After arguments he’d always pull off the perfect apology. He’d me out to an expensive restaurant and completely overlook every gorgeous woman there. He’d make a point of telling the waitress that he must be the stupidest man on earth to have an argument with his ‘beautiful girlfriend’ and would try and show me off to every person in the room. Sometimes his apologies were less flashy, sometimes they came in the form of a home cooked croque monsieur in the morning, and kisses all over my face. Alex had the ability to make me feel both completely worthless and wonderfully special, but when he made me feel so special the guilt always tainted my mood.

In fact, it was at this moment a knock came at the door. I sat up in slight panic. Graham looked at me in confusion.

“It must be Alex,” I told him in a hushed voice.

“Shit.”

The knock came again. I pulled on a shirt from the cupboard, padding through my flat to the living room.

“Hey, (y/n). I know your home,” he said through the door.

“Can you come back later, Al?” I asked, doing up a couple of the buttons. “There’s someone here at the minute.”

“No, just open the door,” he persisted. I sighed, walking over and unlocking it. I stood there in a just the oversized shirt and some underwear I’d pulled on. My bedroom door was shut, Alex wouldn’t mind as long as he didn’t know who was in there.

“I’m in the middle of something,” I said slightly exasperated.

“Fucking hell, you look good,” he grinned, looking me up and down before pushing his way past to get into my flat.

“Hey, don’t come in!” I protested.

“It’s fine, love. I left my keys somewhere here, I just came to grab them,” Alex replied, going into the kitchen and picking them up off the side. He walked into the living, cheeky smile on his face. “Hey, can I say hello to whoever is in there?” he teased, stepping towards my bedroom door. I rushed forward, pushing him away while he teasingly stood his ground.

“No you cannot, it’s weird. If I come into yours while someone’s there you look like a philanderer, but when you come here guys think you’re my pimp or something,” I argued, managing to get him across the room toward the front door.

“Okay, fine,” Alex agreed, dropping his hands to around my waist. “Kiss goodbye?” he requested in a silly voice, tilting his head to the side. I rolled my eyes, but agreed. He pressed his lips to mine for a moment, dropping his hand to squeeze my arse jokingly, and I pulled away to give him a lighthearted smack on the arm and hurrying him out the flat.

When I walked back into my room, Graham was still nestled beneath the duvet, his head poking over the top.

January 1997

"You have to be joking, right?" came the surprised voice of Blur's bassist. Alex was stood in the doorway of a backroom at Groucho's. His pupils were like goddamn dinner plates, as per usual, but for once he was acting surprisingly sober for someone so off their tits. We'd been caught, and as Alex cast a disbelieving look between myself and his bandmate my heart dropped down into the bottom of my stomach.

I had been dating Alex James for just about two years, and had known him for four, and although our relationship wasn't defined as such, it was a rather open one. This, however, seemed to be a breach of our agreement. This wasn't a random person, or even a distant friend, this was Graham.

When Alex had walked in, he'd come across a scene that was a little bit more than over friendly. The guitarist had his hand underneath my skirt and was kissing my neck while we laughed drunkly. Of course, then came the interruption, and we had jumped apart at the arrival of my boyfriend. I sat awkwardly, chewing my lip, feeling like a naughty school kid. Nobody spoke. It was difficult to know what to say. There was no chance of convincing him it was less than he thought, I'm sure our guilty faces spoke volumes. After a pause that went on for way too long, I tried to speak up.

"Al-" I began to reason but my voice was cut of.

"No," he interjected. "I can't fucking believe it. You're my mate, Gra. You're in the band. Of course, the quiet, sweet one. Works for you doesn't it? 'Cause this whole time you've been fucking my girlfriend," Alex snapped. I saw Graham look down, his jaw clenched slightly. I wanted to reach for his hand but I knew it wasn't the time.

"Alex,” I warned but he scoffed at me.

"Piss off with that, (Y/N)," he scolded with an incredulous laugh. "Get your stuff from my place tomorrow, but don't come too early 'cause I'm bringing home that blonde girl from the bar tonight," he told me harshly, leaving the room, probably to go practice his lines in the bathroom.

I sat back down next to Graham, my frown mirroring his. I tipped my head onto his shoulder, and he pulled me into him with a comforting arm. It was difficult to pin down my feelings, although guilt was the presiding one. I felt especially guilty for not finding the ability to care that Alex had just split up with me. I felt tears prick my eyes, unable to stop myself from crying. Graham tilted his head to me, brushing the tears from underneath my eyes with his thumb, and pressing a kiss onto my forehead. I tried to pull him in for a kiss, to distract myself from my current feelings, but he turned his head away.

“Now’s not the time,” he told me gently.

February 1997

I didn’t expect to still accompany the boys on the American tour, in fact, I was aware Alex had greatly argued against it, but Ivan had insisted. I was under contract to the record label and familiar with the set up and how the band liked things. I rather have stayed in London to be honest.

Before we left, Blur released their self titled album, kicking it off with a 'secret' gig at the Astoria to a sold out crowd of two thousand people. The mood was so elevated, all tensions seemed to be erased. A huge after party went down. It was packed with Britpop royalty and went completely out of hand. That night I even stupidly assumed that things would go back to normal, water under the bridge.

I only listened to the album two days later. It was totally different to anything they'd done before. I recognised the influence of the underground bands Graham listened to, although the tone seemed slightly ironic. The album seemed fast paced, but then, halfway through the album came an unexpected softer number, Graham's soft voice coming into my living room through a layer of crackly voice effects. The first verse was despairing. I knew Graham was struggling with his alcohol, but I'd been doing so awfully myself that I didn't even realise how bad it had gotten. It was the chorus that really ruined me though; heartwrenchingly honest and bitterly optimistic. I didn't care if he'd written it about me or not, but that last line hit me somewhere deep in my heart and put tears in my eyes. By the time the song had ended I was a sniffling mess on my living room floor and brimming with such a strong sense of love.

We left to France two days later. The crew were acting strange with me. Everyone knew that I’d now slept with two members of the band, and there was lots of implication I was going to try a third. Damon was acting well off with me and usually I found myself sat with Graham receiving glares from both Damon and Alex. We had to go through Paris and then Tokyo before we arrived in the US at the beginning of March. Things were okay when we all got drunk enough, the boys tended to forget about my crimes against the band. We did sing alongs at our hotels. Alex got a bit arsey when Graham fell asleep with his head in my lap in Tokyo, but he’d happily bring girls to drink with us and happily snog them while I was sat there. I didn’t mind, the part of me that cared was so easy to shut off now.

I loved Japan, and the Japanese loved Blur. Damon was particularly popular with his blond hair, blue eyes and pretty face. The reception at the airport was always brilliant. There would always be a crowd of teenage girls desperate for a signature off their favourite band member, I think one of the Gallaghers already said it, but it was like a second wave Beatlemania. I usually sat back with Ivan, watching the boys deal with their fans, especially Graham. While Alex and Damon used a charming smile, Gra always seemed so unsure what he was doing was right. It was very endearing. I wanted to stay as far away from fame as possible.

Me and Alex’s breakup was extremely high profile. Of course, why we split up was a public mystery, only adding to interest levels. We kept our relationship fairly private, although I had experienced the odd incident with paparazzi, but the Blur management team saw great opportunity for promotion with our split. I was hounded by music journalists for weeks, and photos of me suddenly started appearing all over the gossip magazines. As much as I didn’t want to be stuck on tour with Alex, I had to say it was a relief to leave it behind.

Graham still came to my hotel room late at night, but for both of our sakes he left way before the sun rose. That part was the hardest, when he climbed out of bed to get dressed and leave. I’d watch him put on his clothes, peeking my head over the bedsheets and not speaking. He’d press a kiss to my forehead and tiptoe out the room, back to his own. Then I was alone. I think that fear of being alone was what kept me from ending things with Alex, because staring up at the ceiling after Graham left was the most saddening feeling in the world. I couldn’t say I love you to him anymore, even if I did. When I was still with Alex, it was just a phrase, but then it had become an empty promise. I was far too scared to bear my soul to him like that. I think it upset him slightly, when I wouldn’t say it back, but he never mentioned it.

It was moments like that, lying alone in bed and feeling totally isolated, with nothing but the rushing thoughts in my head, that I would have given anything for Alex to burst into my room and pick a fight with me again. Sometimes I wanted him to loose his temper, to see me across the room and to shout at me, to call me names. His willing acceptance of the situation hurt me most. His ability to move on like it was nothing.

March 1997

Things went downhill once we arrived in America. Everyone was jet lagged from the flight and we were mainly travelling around on a tour bus. Being in such close confines did have a habit of getting on everyone’s nerves. I was sharing a tour bus with some other sound technicians, which was a nightmare. I was the only woman on tour, and every morning I got up an hour before everyone else so I could get dressed without being stared at by a group of blokes. Unfortunately, I was also going to bed in the early hours of the morning anyway, so I was feeling twice as exhausted as usual.

Suddenly, Alex seemed a whole lot more pissed at me than before. Any time Graham and I were even in the same room, he would glare until one of us left. He couldn't help but leave snide comments.

The other issue with being on tour was privacy. I barely got a second alone with Graham. Damon had walked in on one of our few opportunities, while Graham had his head between my legs, and aside from it being very embarrassing, since the incident Damon had been twice as off with me as ever before. Eventually, Graham and I settled for cuddles and conversation, this seemed to cause the least tension.

One night in Detroit, we all went out to a bar. I found in America all anyone ever wanted to know was 'what you did'. Of course, this was in reference to career, but I'd recently found entertainment in replying "nothing much". I spoke to lots of American's, receiving regular compliments on my accent. We drank lots, Alex ended up taking a very attractive blonde girl to the tour bus, leaving the rest of us to continue our evening by drinking enough to knock out an elephant. At one point I wobbled outside for a cigarette and some fresh air.

I stood by the back door and the bins, inhaling the smoke and letting the cold sober me slightly. Then, a very drunk Damon stumbled out the pub, proceeding to bend over by the wall and vomit onto the floor and his trainers. I rushed over, putting a hand on his back and trying to shuffle his feet away to avoid where he was being sick. He finished throwing up and swatted me away.

"Piss off (y/n)," he slurred. "It's your fault it's like this." I stepped back, surprised at his words.

"What?"

"You cocked everything up!" he whined, leaning against the wall for support. "You broke Alex's heart, and now he's mad at Gra, and now Gra's in love with you and you're going to hurt him. Fucking hell, (y/n), look at him! Can't you see what it'd do to him!"

I couldn't help it. For what seemed like the millionth time in the past month, tears prickled my eyes. I never usually cried, but now all my emotions lay very close to the surface.

"I don't want to hurt Graham, Dames. I never wanted to ruin anything," I sniffled, taking a drag from my cigarette to try to calm my wavering voice. "I love Gra, I really do, it's just... complicated."

Damon's eyes softened slightly, and then he fell over into his own sick.

[janeykath318]

The Avengers Zoo

“Since when did the Avengers compound become a zoo?” Darcy asked, flabbergasted to see a frog and a porcupine just chilling out while a hairless cat sat in a sunny corner relaxing. Jane had been summoned down to headquarters and she’d begged Darcy to come too.

“Since Loki showed up and decided to cause havoc, as he is wont to do,” Jane sighed. “Everyone is….not human right now.”

“Oh, dear,” Darcy sighed. “Have you figured out who’s who?” 

“Getting there. Hawkeye and Falcon are obvious, The bald eagle has to be Steve, and Thor is a golden retriever, which I have to admit, is kind of fitting.” 

A big yellow dog trotted over to Jane and sat at her feet, tail wagging and tongue lolling. 

“Hey there, big guy!” Darcy greeted. Thor barked and doggy grinned at her. 

“Yeah, it’s good to see you too, pal,” she returned, smiling at him. “Hopefully, we can convince your Bro to undo whatever he did.”

“We think they still have their human minds, but Leo and Jemma are running some tests to verify that,” Jane informed her, leading Darcy to another room, which contained a dozing black bear, a striking panther, an adorable floppy-eared bunny, and three large birds of prey.

Darcy’s jaw dropped and she saluted the bald eagle. 

“Wow, Cap. It’s a good look on you,” she said with a twinkle in her eyes. The eagle-Cap’s eyes narrowed, but he didn’t move a muscle. 

Talk about majestic.

The sleek Falcon next to him let out a sound that Darcy took to be a birdish laugh and preened his feathers. 

“Yeah, I see you, Wilson. You’re looking good, too,” she assured him.

Clint-Hawk flapped over to her and squawked a greeting.

“Hey, Clint. How’s the bird life treating you?” She asked, trying not to laugh. “If this wasn’t top secret, I’d have so much good blackmail material on you.” 

Hawkeye gave her a birdie glare and shook his brown feathery head. 

Darcy had to stifle a shriek when two large spiders suddenly dropped down in front of her. Of course, they were much bigger than any natural spider, but Loki had probably done that on purpose.

 “Natasha?” She asked nervously, looking at the one with the red hourglass symbol on its body and thanking her stars she wasn’t arachnophobic. 

The spider blinked at her and waved one of its legs, as if affirming her guess. The other spider was a solid black and much more wiggly than Natasha. 

“Let me guess: Peter?” She queried, laughing at the younger spider’s antics as he shot around webbing everything in sight. 

“Yep,” Jane sighed. “He makes such a mess.”

“King T’Challa looks every bit as regal in panther form as human form,” Darcy commented, watching the panther walking alongside one of the scientists, not making the slightest noise. 

“He’s trying his best to help us figure this out,” Jane said affectionately. “He’s quite brilliant even in large cat form.”

The bunny rabbit hopped over to them and looked up at Darcy intensely. In a flash, she was given a mental image of the transformation moment and all the human identities of the animals. 

“That’s definitely Wanda,” She informed Jane. 

“She showed me who everyone is.” 

One of the other scientists ran over eagerly.

“Ooh. Do tell,” he begged, looking like an excited puppy.

Jane rolled her eyes. 

“Darcy, this is Leo Fitz. He’s helping figure this thing out. Fitz, this is Darcy.”

“Nice to meet you.” 

“Likewise,” Fitz said. 

“Other than the ones we already know, the cat is Dr. Strange, the frog is Bruce Banner, the porcupine is Tony Stark…” She cut off with a giggle and Fitz and Jane grinned at the hilarity of Tony the Porcupine.

“Anyway, Wanda is the rabbit, and the bear is Bucky Barnes, bless his heart.”

Darcy looked over to the bear, who was now awake and watching her with quizzical eyes. 

“I’d stay away from that one,” Fitz advised. “He growls if anyone gets within three meters of him.”

“Poor Bucky really doesn’t like scientists,” Darcy told him. “He knows me. I’ll be okay.”

She walked over and sat down beside Bucky the Bear. He lifted his head, but didn’t growl or lunge at her. 

“Hey, there, Bucky.” She told him. “Can you understand me?”

The big bear head nodded clumsily. 

“Excellent,” Darcy beamed, then sighed, remembering their last very awkward encounter. “Now I can finally clear the air about us without you running off or interrupting me with self-flagellation.” 

Bucky bear made a mournful sound, but Darcy kept on track.

“I thought we had a good thing going, Bucky. The flirting was top-notch and you had me completely wrapped around your little finger. Then we kissed and suddenly, you freaked out and avoided me like I had the plague. It’s okay if you aren’t ready, but I want you to know I’m not scared of you in bear form and I’m not scared of you in human form, either. 

You’re a good man, Bucky Barnes. Believe it or not, you do deserve to be happy. Just think about that, okay?”

She could see Steve’s eagle eye watching them, and The Falcon and The Hawk were also gazing with interest. 

The bear snuffled and looked up at her with soulful eyes that were ridiculously cute in a large beast like him. 

Darcy had a strong urge to give him a pet, but figured it would be best to ask first.

“Do you mind if I touch you? That fur is really something.”

The bear didn’t seem to mind and Darcy slowly sank her fingers into his side and marveled at the feel. She gently ran her hand over his soft black fur, noting that Bucky bear had closed his eyes in bliss. 

“Oh, you like that, do you?” She teased. “I bet your human self would too.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a commotion and Jane Foster giving a familiar mischievous figure a thorough chewing out. Loki was trying to be a smartass, but Jane was having none of it. Finally, he gave an exasperated huff.

“Fine! I have modified the spell to wear off in three days. There is no need for more threats. I am well aware of your expertise. You mortals have no sense of humor.”

With a poof, Loki turned himself into a snake and slithered away. 

Jane sighed. 

“Hear that everyone? You’ll be human again in three days. I have no idea what we’re going to do in the meantime.”

Turned out, Darcy added Avengers zookeeper to her resume during the next few days. She chatted to them, made terrible bird jokes, and helped make sure they ate. She got to watch Steve, Sam, and Hawkeye soaring regally in the air, which was a pretty incredible sight. Bunny Wanda liked to sit on her lap and nibble at lettuce while Porcupine Tony made ridiculous faces at Darcy and pretended he was going to poke Bucky with his quills. Bucky mostly snoozed at Darcy’s feet or watched the Birdy Trio flying around. 

Kitty Strange slept most of the time and looked disdainfully at the others when he was awake, goblin like eyes eerily watchful. Thor of course, followed Jane around with his undying loyalty, and the spiders chilled out in their webs, amusing themselves by building more and more elaborate designs. Bruce was given his own private enclosure away from the chaos and he hopped about contentedly. 

When day three arrived, they made sure everyone was in a safe location for a safe transition back to human form and waited it out. 

Darcy got a text from Jane while on a coffee run that simply said, “I forgot how annoying human Tony is. I think I liked him better as a porcupine.”

The avengers were chattering and joking around about their antics as animals when Darcy got back. 

“Lewis! I hear you’re switching careers to zookeeper!” Tony yelled. She flipped him off and ignored him. (She’d learned long ago this was the most effective method of dealing with him if Pepper wasn’t around to tattle to.) 

“I have now dubbed you three the Birdy Trio and nothing is gonna change it, so get used to it,” she informed Steve, Clint, and Sam. 

They all groaned and Darcy grinned in satisfaction. 

Behind her there came a rusty bark of laughter and she turned to see Bucky grinning from ear to ear. His smiles were rare, but they were so adorable, Darcy’s heart skipped a beat.

“Don’t be smug, Barnes,” she playfully chastened him. “You’re gonna be Bucky Bear to me for the rest of your life.” 

The smile did not diminish one bit.

“I hope that’s not the only thing I am to you, doll,” he said softly, making her blush.

Steve, observing their interaction, dragged Clint and Sam away to give them privacy and Darcy vowed to thank him later. Steve really was a good bro.

“You were right. I shouldn’t have run away like that,” he admitted, taking a tentative step toward her. “I’ve been kicking myself ever since. I’ve got more issues than National Geographic magazine, but if you’re willing to give me another chance, I’d definitely like to take it.” 

Darcy smiled and grabbed his hands in hers: both of them. He looked surprised when he saw her grasping his metal hand, but he gently squeezed back. 

“Bucky Bear, I’d love to. How about we start by catching up over dinner?”

“Sounds great, doll,” he said, beaming at her. 

[allie1804-fan]

Kerensa

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5 , Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9,

Chapter 10

Reunion

8th September. Kerry looked at her phone again, reading through the last message from him. He’d be here tomorrow. Ever since he’d started messaging, she’d hoped she might be able to see him again, maybe they could talk again about their feelings. She knew now that she loved him, that she couldn’t just be friends, it was pointless denying it but maybe he’d moved on. But he was coming all the way to Cornwall to see her, that had to be a good sign right?

“Come on Scout, walkies – I have got to get some fresh air through my brain!”

She did her best to keep occupied as she waited. Luckily she had the cottage to clean on Friday morning for a couple who had booked it for a long weekend. That meant she could put all her fears into energetic scrubbing, polishing and vacuuming while the hours counted down.

She had just sat down with a cup of coffee in her kitchen when he appeared at the open door.

“hey” he said tentatively

Her face broke into a wide grin which he matched.

“Come ’ere”

She went to him, a little cautiously, still wondering how this was all going to play out. To her delight, he gave her the biggest bear hug, whispering into her hair

“boy did I miss you!”

“Me too”

He let her go and they just stood for a few moments, smiling and drinking each other in.

“Pub and a fish finger sandwich?” Kerry volunteered.

“Yeah that sounds just the ticket”

They walked down to the harbour and got a table outside in the late summer sun.

Over lunch she caught him up on her publishing news – she finally had a deal and was currently working with an editor to select the stories that would go in her first collection. Then she also had a novel idea so she was excited to be pushing on with her writing ambitions finally.

He told her about his latest projects and what he’d been doing in London.

“So I saw Cariad yesterday ......” he said, a secret smile on his face at having this surprise to share with her.

“Oh my god, you did it? The Griefcast?”

He nodded

“Yup and you were right, it WAS good for my soul. It won’t be out for a while but I’ll give you the heads up. I guess you’re subscribed anyways right?”

She nodded, taking another bite of her sandwich.

“Wow, I’m so pleased you did it. So it was OK right? Not too painful?”

“I did almost lose it, quite early on, but then we got into it and, it felt, errr, really good to remember them both and tell someone else about them. I hadn’t expected that. Cheryl thought I’d gone off my rocker when I told her I was doing it!” he chuckled at the memory.

Kerry laughed “I bet she thought you’d been taken over by aliens or something”

“Pretty much!”

They chatted on, the conversation light and factual, then with lunch done, they settled the bill.

“Do you want to go down to the beach?” she asked

“Err, no can we just head back to yours? I’d like to talk to you, somewhere private”

“Oh, OK”

As they walked up the hill, he dared to take her hand in his. She looked down at their intertwined hands then back up at him, a small smile on her lips.

Back at the house, she poured them each some ice tea and they went outside to her courtyard and settled in her swing seat.

“So” Keanu began

“So?” she queried

“So, I wanted to tell you a bit more about when I went home, not just what I’ve been doing but how I’ve been feeling”

Kerry swallowed hard, wondering where he was headed with this line of conversation.

He took her hands in his and held her gaze.

“You see, the thing is, uh, the minute I was heading home back in June, I wanted to turn around. I wished we hadn’t left it, left us as a lost cause. I wished that we’d found a way to be together. And once I was home, my friends all said I was like a lovesick puppy! They told me to get my sorry ass back down here and tell you, sweep you off your feet, whisk you away but I don’t know if it’s just me who feels this way I don’t know what you want. I mean, I’d move here in a heartbeat if that’s the only way to be with you! Is there Hope Kerry? My beautiful Sweet Kerensa, please say there is!”

His eyes were soft and pleading, not to mention glassy with unshed tears. Kerry stifled a sob and threw her arms around his neck, burying her face there, breathing him in. His arms came around her and held her tight but she still hadn’t said anything and his heart fluttered with worry.

Even when he pulled back to look questioningly in her eyes, she didn’t declare her feelings but rather stood up and said “wait there”

She was back quickly, holding something made of dark grey fabric. She sat down next to him again on the swing seat and handed it to him.

“This is yours”

He shook it out, revealing a grey Arch Motorcycles T-shirt.

“I found it balled up under the bed after you left. I’ve washed it, but only yesterday. Before that, I was sleeping with it every night breathing in your scent and wishing so hard we hadn’t left it the way we did. So yes, Keanu, there is hope. I’ve missed you so much - I fell in love with you back in May and I do want to be with you. I just don’t quite know how we’ll make it work but I know I want to”

He silenced her then with a kiss - only this time no one had to stop just as the fireworks started - their tongues danced together and he moaned, pulling her tight against him, hungrily drinking her in. Eventually, he pulled back smiling broadly then giving her contented little pecks on her lips, cheeks and forehead.

“So” she asked “what do we do? Have you thought about what you want, what might work? How we can do this?” she gestured between them.

“Well, you know, before I came, I kind of played out the different scenarios in my head, you know a) I declare my love for you and you say “sorry but I realised after you left it was just infatuation” or b) before I even declare myself, you introduce me to your new boyfriend” Kerry snorted at that

“as if”

“or finally c) that it would be ok and the feelings would be mutual” she gave his hand a squeeze at that.

“So when I let myself run with option c) I imagined that we’d go back to Tresco, where I really started to fall for you and what I imagined is talking there, you know, about how we make it work and, more importantly, actually doing all the things I dreamed of doing with you when we were there before.”

“Like?”

“Like holding your hand, like putting my arms around you, like kissing you, like making love with you……”

Kerry blushed, hiding her face against his chest “so before I came I made some arrangements, you know, living in hope”

“You did?”

“Uh huh, so I hope this is ok”

“So tell me”

“Well I spoke to John, and he’s going to look after Scout for a few days and sort out the cottage after the weekenders go, and tomorrow at 11 we’re flying out to St Mary’s (I decided not to put you through helicopter hell this time!) and then we’re going back to the New Inn only this time I’ll be free, I trust, to show you what I wanted to do so often when we were there in May. Is it OK?”

Kerry looked up and into his eyes, a warm smile playing on her lips. She held her hand against his cheek

“Yes Keanu, it’s very, very OK.”

Then she kissed him softly slipping her arms up around his neck They kissed for a while before she pulled away “How did I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“I feel the same”

Later they walked Scout along the beach and had an ice cream then went home to pack their things ready for the morning and have a light supper. By 10pm, Keanu was yawning.

“You’re probably still jet-lagged aren’t you?”

“A tad maybe. Uhm, where shall I sleep?”

“Err would you sleep with me? Just sleep I mean.” Kerry rushed to clarify “It’s not that I don’t want you but, err after your speech about Tresco, I really want our first time to be there. Is that silly?”

“No, not silly at all. I want that too”

“wow a man who’s prepared to wait!”

“I’m an old man remember, not a horny teenager, well I am horny, just looking at you makes me horny. “ Kerry giggled.

“But I still want to wait”

“Well ok then, glad we’re on the same page”

They locked up and went to her room where they were both proud to say they just slept, Keanu spooning behind her, his hand gently cupping her breast through her pjs.

Kerry woke at 8, feeling Keanu’s warm breath on her neck. She wanted to pinch herself. When he’d said he was coming, she had felt some hope but how things had unfolded was beyond her wildest dreams. She started to move, then felt his grip tighten and a low moan rumble against her before he planted a soft kiss on her neck then whispered:

“don’t go, you’re so lovely and warm”

“I have to shower and dry my hair and we’re leaving in not much more than an hour”

“Ok, just 5 minutes more then I’ll take Scout round to John. Is the food still in the utility room?” (Keanu had looked after Scout himself once when Kerry had a meeting in London whilst he was renting the cottage.)

“Yup”

Kerry turned in his arms and gave him a kiss

“I’m so glad you’re here”

“Me too” he grinned and kissed her back before throwing back the covers to get on with their trip preparations.

@fortheloveoffanfic @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @toomanystoriessolittletime @ladyreapermc @paperplanesandwallflowers @patric9

[saladejin]

Call An Uber? | 05

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right? What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Mild swearing

Word Count: 4k 

< masterpost >

A/N: Hey there tumblr readers! This story might not seem all that angsty or plot-heavy in these first few chapters, but I promise it builds into it. I apologise for all the slow burn, I just can’t help myself ^^;

»»————- <<prev | next >> ————-««

       Getting home after the calming car ride seemed a tad anti-climactic. Weariness from the day piled high onto my shoulders, and as I threw my bag into the corner of my bedroom, I all but flopped onto the bed unceremoniously.

The small apartment wasn’t much, but it was enough to sustain me. The landlord was polite at least, and the rent was luckily just within my budget for now. It consisted of a small kitchen and a cosy living room all in one tiny, yet open space. A door led into the one and only bedroom of the apartment, which was also lacking in spaciousness, but it wasn’t as if anyone else was living here. All in all, it was adequate despite not really being something I was used to.

Laying silently on the bed allowed my thoughts and memories from the day to shroud my mind. I remembered how helpless and overwhelmed I’d been feeling when escaping into the carpark of the building, and how my responsibilities had come crashing through like swelling waves of inky ocean water. 

Feeling lost was one way to describe that moment, but Yoongi had consoled me to a point where I felt stable and supported. Even if he didn’t mean to show it directly, of which I wasn’t so sure, his way of letting me know he cared hadn’t been lost on me. I was usually good at noticing these things, so it was surprising to see that he wanted to show the gentle side of him tonight. I guess I really was finding out how these boys lived. I was seeing their thought processes with my own very eyes, something vital that was missing in my connection with them before.

Things were happening quickly, but I was ready to let them happen with welcoming, open arms. I was going to absolutely thrive in this new lifestyle, so why let stress weigh me down like a pile of bricks? I just wouldn’t let it.

Rolling over to smooth down the pale bedsheets with my fingers, I couldn’t help but let my mind drift to the sharp eyes of Yoongi, the dazzling smile of Jimin, Namjoon’s dimples…and just all seven of them. I needed to let them know how their fans felt, and I needed them to let me know if they had any doubts about their popularity and future. This could be one of my purposes, and a goal combined with many, many ARMYs. If I had the chance to console them, just like Yoongi had with me, then I would jump at the opportunity with no malignant intentions. I only wanted to help them and share with them the happiness they had given me throughout the years. To groove out their misgivings and straying negativity that allowed unnecessary stress and anxiety to build.

This was my purpose.

~

The days scorched hotter and hotter, meaning another short meeting for us at the firm. Nobody wanted to stay inside a sticky office filled with the sounds of stuttering air conditioners and electric fans, so Bang PD let everyone go home earlier than usual. When I say earlier, I mean mid-afternoon anyway, so it’s not like it’s actually early.

I’d finally started out with my new job, and so far things had gone swimmingly. The staff were continuously friendly, and the workload was nothing too devastating. Since the company had been a little short on multilingual interpreters, the amount of language related jobs had been growing over time. I could have been overwhelmed, but instead it was somehow smooth sailing from the get-go.

Things were going splendidly, but I wondered about what was going to happen with my Uber job. Would I just stop? It wasn’t like I needed the money from it now, so what would even be the point of it? Meeting new people from all cultures and backgrounds wouldn’t even be an issue at all. Maybe, just maybe the idea of giving up my job as a glorified taxi driver was an imminent one.

~

The office had been bustling today, but I knew it was because everyone was focused on preparing for the upcoming BTS concert. One of the company’s translators held out some papers from where he sat in his wheeling chair. “(Y/n)-ssi, could you please drop these down to the stylists? I translated the articles like they asked, so they’ll want to have a look as soon as possible.”

“Of course. I was about to bring them some coffee anyway. They’ve been working tirelessly,” I smiled at him and grasped the papers. It seemed the marketing management had wanted select articles about their fashion sense, hair styling and makeup to be translated from various languages.

I scurried to the kitchen area where I’d already started on the coffees. Someone had graciously told me how most of the stylists liked their drinks, and I knew they would need it after how much they had been testing makeup supplies and hair products downstairs. I shuddered at the thought of having my fingers sticking together from the amount of hairspray circulating the room.

The basement was pretty much where everything happened. Practices, auditions, coaching etc. You name it.  After dropping off the notes and coffees, I was showered with gratitude from the stylists and was shocked to see just how tired and worn-down they were. The thought that something big was about to happen caused excitement to curl deep within the pit of my stomach.

Maybe there’ll be new hair colours soon?

“No worries, make sure you get some rest!” I reminded them before letting the door to the changing room click shut.

I was right about the hairspray thing, it was seriously suffocating in there. At least they had some air vents open for ventilation, but I felt bad for those kind-hearted men and women. They would most likely be staying there way into the hours of the night too.

I began to walk back towards the elevator, but my eyes were caught by a bright light flooding from one of the main practice areas. One of the doors had been left wide open, and I glanced inside to see a very expansive room enclosed by pure white walls. The floor was made up of tawny brown floorboards, or maybe vinyl, I wasn’t quite sure. I think it had only recently been renovated.

“(Y/n)? Hello!” a clear and high-pitched voice made me jump in my skin. I looked further into the room to spot Jimin resting in one of the black, wheeling chairs of the studio area. His fading blonde locks had been swept back completely, and I could tell he was tired and sweaty from practicing.

To his left was Hoseok, who seemed distracted until Jimin’s exclamation, and the last person in the room was none other than a certain Kim Taehyung. As soon as the youngest of the three found out I was hiding in the doorframe, his eyes blew wide.

“Hey Jimin, Hoseok-ssi and Taehyung-ssi,” I bowed, as was the custom, and made my way into the room. You really had to spin around to take everything in, it was incredibly large for a practice studio.

I turned when I heard footsteps and was greeted by a very bright and bubbly Taehyung.

“(Y/n)? Ah, it’s so great to meet you finally!” He bowed also and I instinctively reached out to shake his hand, smiling once he brought both of his warmer ones together around my own.

They’re so big, what the hell.

Ripping my line of sight away from his long fingers, I glanced behind him to see Hoseok making his way forward too. “Hey there! I’m also glad to meet you (Y/n).”

I exchanged similar greetings with the fiery red-head, but stepped back when Jimin intervened with a low-pitched whine.

“No, no.” He ran forward and grasped his two bandmate's shirts gently to pull them away. “Don’t crowd her, we’re all smelly from practice!”

His disgusted expression made me grin again, and I shook my head. “Don’t worry about that, a little sweat won’t kill me.”

Hoseok laughed while playfully batting away Jimin’s hands. “Sorry about that, we are kind of gross right now.” He started airing out his shirt rapidly while strolling over to where three water bottles rested along the wall. I noticed that they were the only people in the room and puzzled over the thought. they were usually here with a manager or something, weren’t they?

“What were you guys practicing? And where are the others?” I queried, and watched as Taehyung flashed me a boxy grin. Jimin just groaned and ran his fingers through his hair yet again.

“We’re practicing for the concert, but I only came a couple of hours ago, the others are just at home I think,” Taehyung explained, patting Jimin’s back heartily. “Jiminie and Hoseokie-hyung have been here all day. They’re so fit!”

I glanced over at the two dancers as Hoseok jumped over to tickle Tae lovingly, Jimin just smiled at their loud antics. I was beyond surprised, as none of the members even seemed too tired. They were simply out of breath despite the sheer amount of exercise they’d undergone.

“That’s amazing! You all have so much energy to be able to practice so much.” I earned all of their attentive gazes, Hoseok instantly gracing me with his own beaming smile.

“Thanks! We’re just having a little break, but we’ll start again soon. Would you like to watch?”

My heart almost leapt out of my chest at the thought.

“Would I? Of course I’d love to watch you guys dance.” I clapped my hands together in excitement, eyes bright and shining with an uncontrolled delight. This made Taehyung reach forward with both hands to make a 'flower' under my flushing face.

“How cute!” He cooed, and Jimin pulled him away again. An eye-smile was stretching across the shorter boy's face in the most endearing way possible. Hoseok laughed, following with a “very cute, very cute” and ran off to start the music again.

All three of them were in light clothing, but Hoseok was wearing a white short-sleeved t-shirt while the other two adorned button-ups varying in style. All three wore long black Puma pants, most likely because of the ambassadorship they were part of.

“Ah, I don’t want to mess up in front of (Y/n),” Jimin tilted his head and looked at me with a somewhat pained expression. When I raised my eyebrows at him, he pouted and shook his hair out of his downcast eyes. I felt like I needed to step in.

“Jiminie, you’re an amazing dancer, you’d even make messing up look good. Plus, it’s only practice.”

“Yeah Jimin-ah, she won’t mind,” Hoseok helped me out and as the music started blaring from the speakers again, the rapper jogged over to jab Jimin teasingly in the side.

From the words of encouragement, Jimin brightened and smiled in my direction again before joining the others with a serious glint in his eye. I sat against one of the pristinely white walls to watch the action unfold before me, knowing I was about to witness something magnificent. Taehyung started moving his hands and bobbing his body to the beat in that hilarious way he usually did in mock dance practices, and I couldn’t help but snort in amusement.

“Oh, Taehyung is improving! It must be because we have a lady in the room,” Hoseok teased and shook his head, breaking out into chuckles when Tae moved to hit his shoulder in protest. His bashful smile switched focus to me, and I nodded my head in approval.

“I'm loving the skills though.”

Suddenly, the starting track for ‘Fire’ began rumbling loudly through the speakers, and my ears perked in recognition. Was I actually going to see this performed in front of me? I knew this dance all too well from the countless videos I’d seen.

“Are you guys ready?” Hoseok hollered into the open space, and I watched them line up a few metres back from the large mirror. They must’ve been planning to perform this at the upcoming concert, but I wasn’t sure why they needed so much practice seeing as they literally performed it at most live events.

I suddenly threw my cardigan across the room and jump to my feet, rolling up my sleeves in determination. I didn’t even care if they thought I was the strangest person in the world right now, because this was ‘Fire’. “I’m so joining in!”

As the first ‘bultaoruene’ resonated against the pale walls, I ran into the middle of the room and launched straight into the first part of the dance. Despite wanting to come across as serious, I couldn’t keep a cool and collected demeanour and opted instead to laugh loudly. The others were no different, and as my arms started moving wildly, Jimin fell to the floor in a breathless wreck. Hoseok exaggerated his surprise by cupping his hands around his mouth and cheering me onwards while Taehyung mimicked him with his own loud whoops. All three ended up on the ground as I continued to dance, biting my lip to feign seriousness.

I didn’t try to replicate their dancing, as I knew I couldn’t reach their level, but I still shook my hands rapidly and squeezed impassioned eyes to parody something that resembled it. The music stopped, and I fell to the vinyl floor as well, my breathing shortened due to how much I was cackling. Hoseok had stumbled over to pause the track, and I could hear him suffering just as I was.

“Oh my-Oh my God that was great. Did you learn the whole thing?” he gasped out, making his way back over to where I was sitting with my head pressed into the cold floor. My whole body was shaking and erupting with shamed giggles, and when I rolled over, I hid my face in my hands to stop the embarrassment from showing.

“I’ve seen it too many times to not dance to it.”

“I was not expecting that, you have to dance with us, I’m begging you.” Taehyung ran over, his deeply toned sentence breaking up into various airy chuckles. Jimin was the last to get to his feet, but his face was completely reddened and his hair was even messier than before.

“We’ll teach you the rest. I think we’ve practiced the actual dances enough for today, don’t you think hyung?”

Hoseok exhaled loudly, his eyes crinkling with his smile after regaining his composure. 

“Yes, you’re right. And the newest member of the dance line needs some instruction.”

I was still on the floor, but at the agile dancer’s statement I fell over again. Taehyung and Jimin both smiled at the sight of my pained expression.

“Guys, I wouldn’t be able to dance the whole thing properly, let alone with phenomenal dancers like you right there.”

“Thank you for the compliment, but you are going to learn this. No buts.” Taehyung held out a helping hand, and I grasped it to help me get back on my feet. I then turned to Hoseok.

“Okay sonsaeng-nim, where do I start?”

All three boys laughed again, and Hoseok straightened himself, puffing out his chest to seem scholarly. Taehyung pointed towards him with a grin that only widened.

“Hobi-hyung is literally everyone’s dance teacher, he’ll make sure you get it perfect.”

At this, the greyish-brown haired boy rushed to line up beside me and looked sideways expectantly. Jimin , but chose not to line up. I nudged Taehyung into a straighter position with my elbow as Hoseok began pacing in front of us, massaging his chin with two fingers thoughtfully. He lowered his voice to sound gruff and strict, and I had to blow out my cheeks to keep it in.

“First lesson of the day, the chorus choreo.”

“Yes, teacher,” Taehyung and I recited in unison as if being scolded. Jimin nearly fell over again until Hoseok waved his hand dismissively and the whole act was dropped. I fell into the boy beside me, suddenly embarrassed once more, but not being able to contain myself any longer. Taehyung patted my shoulder comfortingly while stifling his own noises.

“Honestly, we weren’t joking about you learning the dance though,” Hoseok started and meandered over to grasp both my forearms, tugging on them to lead me forwards. I groaned and sent a look that screamed ‘help’ towards Jimin and Taehyung, but they both just snorted.

I internally cursed Jimin for betraying me like this. I’d thought he was my friend.

“Jimin-ah, Taehyung-ah, you’re going to help too.” Hoseok beckoned them over, and I could only grumble in more complaint.

“Okay, just get Jimin to show me some steps and I’ll see if I can do it properly.” I straightened my arms, which were still being pulled by Hoseok, and tapped my feet a couple of times to get ready. The red-haired dancer eventually dropped his hold, but looked down at his hands as if he’d touched something strange and foreign.

Jimin nodded at my request, and I paid close attention as he lined up in front of the mirror and ran through the starting choreography to the chorus. As both he and Hoseok showed me a slowed down version, I managed to get it all memorised. Taehyung clapped his hands to congratulate me, but his face fell when the phone in his pocket started buzzing incessantly.

“Sorry guys, it’s my turn to help Jin-hyung with dinner tonight. I have to go,” Taehyung fake sobbed, and I watched as Jimin went along with it to hug him comfortingly. Hoseok pretended to cry as well, and I couldn’t help but think this whole scene looked like he was about to be sacrificed to the Devil or something.

“Bye (Y/n), I hope I’ll see you soon,” The lively boy called as everything returned back to normal, and I couldn’t help but revel in the easy-going atmosphere surrounding me suddenly. I hadn't even met two of these people yet, but somehow I'd managed to skip past all the initial awkwardness of first meetings.

“Of course, definitely soon!” I vowed, and the singer left while grabbing one of the sports bags that rested by the door, continuing to walk backwards and wave rapidly. He was just too cute, and the way his eyes glimmered with hope just before he left was etched deeply into my mind. Even long after he was gone.

“We’re fine to teach you something, before we have to go anyway,” Hoseok turned back to us, and I almost face-palmed at the thought.

“Please don’t waste your time, I don’t even have a dancer’s body,” I spoke, my voice drawling out in protest.

“(Y/n) you do! Even if you were playing around before, you could still dance,” Jimin fought my statement, and I scoffed at his widened eyes. He was seriously against people belittling themselves.

“Plus, everyone gets better with practice,” Hoseok joined in, nodding his head cutely as he slammed his hands onto his hips. Jimin ran through the dance again, and I sewed their teachings together to try and copy him. I was shorter and had a different body shape to both dancers, but it wasn’t too difficult to try and alter the moves to accommodate for that. It was safe to say I actually ended up pretty proud of the outcome.

“I just don’t like how I can’t flow properly when I come up from the first move,” I grunted, trying out the steps again. Jimin hummed considerately before moving to stand behind me.

“Move your hands super quickly, and maybe keep this arm up so it’s easier.” He lightly grasped one of my forearms while I stayed frozen in position, and I actually saw in the mirror how it could help me. I was very much aware of how gentle his touch had been and how close his body was to mine. It didn’t help my racing thoughts when his warm puffs of breath made the hairs on the back of my neck tingle.

“And since you have to move your feet soon after, maybe don’t put so much weight on them beforehand,” Hoseok chipped in, and moved my other arm down so I could focus on my feet this time around. He’d been firmer than Jimin with his touch, but the singular fact that both of them had touched my arms in the span of a minute was enough to leave me breathless. I followed his instruction and gulped when the dancer’s lips quirked up into a knowing smirk.

The fucker knows what he’s doing.

“See, speed it up and try it now!” Hoseok bounced to get on my other side while Jimin stood and watched his partner offer his own extra tips. I found out just how useful a wall-sized mirror was when learning to dance, and when complimented by Hoseok’s timely sound effects, it wasn’t hard to get down the moves.

“Pa, pa and... boom! See, you have it. You’re a natural.” Hoseok reached up to exchange a sharp high-five, and I complied before covering my face again. This was almost too embarrassing. I just knew how badly my cheeks were flaring with flames of blazing pink.

“See hyung, I told you she was cute when she blushed.” One of Jimin’s fingers came to poke my cheek, just like he had done that one time in the car.

I reeled away from him. “Ah, don’t tease me, how rude!”

Hoseok and Jimin chuckled, and I heard the older dancer agree with my words in another fresh bout of mockery. “She’s right Jiminie, don’t embarrass her too much or she might just faint because of you.”

I growled, and they both stifled their laughing.

“As if I would faint, it’s not like I’ve never received a compliment before.”

“Ooh, cocky.” Hoseok tilted his head back and I smiled as both boys shook their heads at each other with crossed arms.

“Hey!” I pushed both of them away using their broad chests, scrunching my face up. Knowing it wasn’t convincing in the slightest, I inwardly cursed my continuous failure to hide emotions.

“But seriously, she has that natural aegyo,” Hoseok pointed out with wide eyes. Jimin’s jaw slackened in surprise before he agreed wholeheartedly.

 “I’m leaving, before my face burns clean off,” I then announced, pointing an accusing finger at the two chuckling dancers who were making their way over to gather their belongings and drink bottles.

 “Remind me to never be alone with you two again.”

“But (Y/n) …” Jimin licked his lips and smiled sweetly. “We’re not making any promises.”

The duality of this man truly scared me.

“Whatever, I should actually get going though,” I noted forlornly, not continuing to joke even though I really wished to do nothing but. The boys both nodded with their spirits also seeming to dampen slightly, but Hoseok lifted his head to smile with that signature sun-like glow of his.

“It was really fun to dance with you, please consider learning with us again (Y/n).”

“It sounds like you’re trying to sell me something, but sure I’ll think about it.”

Jimin erupted into giggles and slapped his elder on the shoulder before curling into him, just like he usually did when he laughed really hard. Hoseok merely pressed his lips together and tilted his head to seem hurt.

“Please do,” he agreed in a broken whisper, but I steeled my throat from letting anything close to laughter escape its clutches. I would be here for way too long if I couldn’t control myself.

“Okay bye!” I shout, listening to their farewells before ducking out into the chilled hallway.

Time had seriously flown by, and I remembered that I would have been home hours ago if I hadn’t been so severely side-tracked. I sighed with weariness as I finally made my way towards the steel doors of the elevator, listlessly passing a trashcan full of several empty coffee cups.

            Copyright © 2020 by salade. All rights reserved.  

tagged: @l4life​, @joyful-jimin​

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t You Hear My Call Though You’re Many Years Away - Chapter 13

Not my GIF

A/N: So, John knows the truth now, what happens next. This and the following chapter are within the hours of Y/N telling him. More angst, but Freddie is here to add a little bit of cheer. This ones a bit shorter.

I sat on the bed, where I’d been most of the day, if I wasn’t there, I was pacing. I played that mornings events over and over in my mind. Looking out the window at the fading light, fear gnawed at me. Fear he wouldn’t come back. And even the fear he would and that he would hate me for everything.

As I worried over the scene again there was a knock at the door that jolted me out of my thoughts.

I rushed over, saying his name as I flung it open.

“John?”

“I’m afraid not, darling” Freddie replied, looking at me suspiciously, “is John not here? We hadn’t seen you two lovebirds today, and we’re beginning to wonder if John would make practice tomorrow.”

“No, um...he-he isn’t here” I stammered, shaking my head.

“Do you mind if I come in?” He asked gently.

“Oh, yeah, please” I said, stepping aside.

Freddie sauntered in and looked around the room before his eyes landed back on me.

“Charming” he said.

I smiled slightly as I began to straighten up the bed, trying to busy myself. Avoiding making eye contact. I felt a sudden rush of guilt.

“Tell me what happened” he said. It wasn’t a demand, but I knew he wouldn’t leave not knowing something.

I stopped fidgeting and slumped on the side of the bed, my head falling to my hands.

“We were” I paused, trying to think of something “talking about when I leave...” I allowed myself to stop there.

“Ah.” Freddie said as he leaned against the dresser “Well, I feel I rather pushed the two of you together, and I’m sorry for thinking this of you and Deacy, but I had hoped the two of you would have a bit of fun, and that would be that. I didn’t take either of your feelings to heart, and I’ve seen with my own eyes the relationship that has grown here. He loves you, and I would guess you feel the same. But I had begun to worry about this. Your leaving.”

“He was upset, when he left” I said, looking towards Freddie as he crossed his arms over his chest. “I told him I couldn’t change the fact that I’ll be going home...I have things I need to be present for.”

I was scrambling. Lying wasn’t easy and each lie only dug me deeper and deeper into a hole.

“There’s ways to keep in touch. Writing, possibly even phone calls. And who knows, maybe we’ll tour America some day” he said wistfully.

I nodded in agreement.

“But there’s more you’re not telling me, what is it darling?” He asked, moving to sit next to me, his hand gently soothing my shoulder. This is the Freddie that I would always think back on, kindhearted, caring.

“I never...expected this to happen. It’s made things, or will make things more complicated when I get home.” I replied, choosing my words carefully.

“Because of your former boyfriend?” He queried.

“No” I replied vehemently. “I’d honestly forgotten about him, about the whole break up. It’s the fact that John and I lead such different lives.”

“But aren’t there ways to overcome those differences?” He asked gently.

I stared into his warm brown eyes, the light and hope that sparkled in them made me smile. If he only knew that time would never allow John and I to be together. It was safer not to answer the question directly.

“Well” I sighed “he has to come back first.”

“He will” Freddie laughed, his smile bright as ever, “I haven’t know John for long, but I feel, I think, that he needs time. Let him think over everything. He loves you.”

“Why do you keep saying that, that he loves me?” I asked, my brow pinched.

“Because he does. Hasn’t he told you? I mean it’s rather obvious. He’s loved you for the moment he set eyes on you.” He replied.

“No” I replied softly “he hasn’t told me.”

“He will” he smiled “again, give him time.”

“Now” he said, clapping his hands on his thighs, “have you left this room today? Had anything to eat?”

“No.” I admitted “I-I was hoping...I was waiting for Deacy.”

He stood quickly, and grabbed my purse from the dresser to hand over to me.

“Let’s get something to eat. A hamburger? Americans are all about hamburgers, right?” He asked jokingly.

“But what if...” I began.

“If he comes back tonight dear, he’ll wait for you” he said “let’s go.”

**

“So what do you have to get back home for” Freddie asked as we settled in the booth of a local Wimpy.

“My dads birthday, for one” I replied, taking a bite of my burger before I continued. “It’s coming up soon, so I want to be home for that. Plus, I’ve got to tell them the truth about this trip.”

I wasn’t lying about going home for my dads birthday, but they’d never know of this trip. Never.

“I don’t envy you there” he said as he ate.

“I also need to arrange my class schedule for the fall” I continued. “And all of you have shows you have to prepare for! It’s a busy time for everyone.”

“It’s only the beginning” he said, looking me straight in the eyes “I can feel that this is only the beginning.”

“Great things are coming” I replied, a knowing smile slipped on my face.

“You think so?” He asked hopefully.

“I know so. I know what I’ve seen. I know what I’ve heard. And there’s something there. Something special. You’ve got it. Whatever ‘it’ is, the four of you have it.” I replied.

“You feel it too then?” He asked, but not allowing me to respond “I know Roger feels it. I’m not sure about Brian and John. But I know this really going somewhere for us.”

“I can’t wait to see where this takes you” I replied. His enthusiasm, his hope, it was captivating.

We chatted more as we finished our meal and head back towards the inn. He told me of his dreams and goals for the band, more gigs and maybe even recording an album. Little did he know how quickly all that would come.

He mentioned how he, Brian and Roger knew the moment John started to play at his audition that he was meant to be the bands bassist. How his amp produced a sound like they’d never heard, and complementing him on his playing, calling him the best and strongest bassist he’s come across.

Hearing his praise John warmed my heart. The friendship to come, I was sorry I wouldn’t be able to see it develop.

As we stepped into the inn, Margrets eyes were on us instantly. Judging. As always

“Good evening Margret” I said with a smile.

Freddie must have noticed her expression as well, because he waved and bowed towards her theatrically.

“Madam, Margret! Hello darling!” He bellowed.

She quickly turned on her heels and walked out of the main room, causing Freddie and I to giggle as we started up towards my room. It felt good to laugh, however brief and fleeting.

“Thank you, Freddie” I said as he walked with me up the stairs “for dinner and talking with me.”

“Of course dear” he said as we reached the landing.

There, leaning against the door frame was John. He looked worried until his eyes met mine, a flash of relief crossed his face before he spoke.

“I...erm...I was waiting for you...” he didn’t finish his thought.

“Right” Freddie said as he turned to me, he gave me a warm hug and a kiss on each cheek “I’ll see you soon dear. And Deacy, don’t forget about practice. Goodnight!”

Before either John or I could respond he was bounding down the stairs.

I swallowed thickly as I looked back to John, who was staring intently at me. I fidgeted with the keys, my nerves kicking back up as he opened his mouth to speak. 

“I just need to know one thing” he said.

“C-can we talk inside?” I asked, moving towards the door.

“Okay” he said nodding.

@queensdivas @liliah39 @leah-halliwell92 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @deakys-chesthair @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @heybuddy-drabbles @queenwouldyourathers @mirkwoodshewolf @ixchel-9275 @deakysgurl @deakysmisfire @thosequeenboys @tryin-her-best @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie @johndeaconshands @apailana @cowparsleys @januarycolor @madamsixx @johndeaconstoothgap @brinteylovesaliens @detectivecutiepantsandhisbabyfox @mazzell-ro

[kalboykiyay]

At Ease

So, I wrote this as a birthday present to myself. I don’t remember half of what I typed and as per usual, I didn’t check for grammar or spelling errors. I’m pretty sure that this fic falls into the Sharp Cheddar Gang because I refuse to give up my romance.

A couple of things to mention, as with all of the pre-Warriors fics, I must mention that this takes place before Cowboy gets his Stetson (Jeez, I should probably organise these fics chronologically, huh?) and I headcanon his pre-Cowboy name to be Harris. Also, the character Adelay doesn’t speak, so she communicates mostly in ASL, and I’ve done my best to italicise her dialogue. though, I hope you enjoy this and constructive criticism is appreciated.

If there was one thing Harris knew about A.J., it was how easily she flustered whenever she was uncomfortable, or startled, or embarrassed, and that didn’t take much. Adelay gave her a light-hearted hug last week, and her face immediately turned bright red. Of all of the members of their friend group, she seemed most comfortable with Adelay, having known her in middle school, but there wasn’t much difference in how she acted toward her overall. He couldn’t tell if she despised affection or if she just didn’t like being touched. She was nice enough to everyone, but it was obvious she still felt outta place within the group, despite them all having been friends for the better part of a year at this point. 

So, it came as a surprise to him when she agreed to go to the festival they were having at the beach that Saturday.

“I have nothing to do on Saturday, so sure why not? I’d love to go. Of course, I would have to ask Nikola, but I’m sure he’d be alright with it.” She was distracted by something, so she didn’t catch his surprised expression.

“Alright. Cool. We’re all meeting up at Juka’s house that afternoon. Do you know how to get there?”

“Yep. It’s on the way to my house actually.” She grabbed her bag off the table. “I’ll see you then.”

“Yeah, see you then.” He said, watching her walk out the door, suppressing his urge to smile. 

 -----

“You sure she’s actually gonna show? I’m still surprised she actually agreed to comin’ today.” Noah said as he flopped down on the couch and put his feet up, before opening up a bag of chips.

“I hope she wouldn’t bail. She doesn’t seem the type,” Harris said. “It seems like she might at least let someone know unless it was an emergency or she couldn’t reach them.”

“I’m pretty sure she would say something,” Juka said walking back into the room. “Noah, get your feet off the couch!”

Noah moved his feet back onto the floor. “Alright, don’t kill me,” 

There was a knock at the door which Juka went to answer. Noah put his feet back up out of spite. “You get my feet of the stupid couch.” He mumbled under his breath, causing him and Harris to burst out laughing. 

He put them back down when she started walking back, A.J. and Adelay in tow. “We can leave in a moment, I just realised that I don’t have any flowers, I’m gonna grab some,” She said before turning back to Noah. “Don’t put your feet back on my couch.”

“Juke, I’m hurt that you think I would do such a thing! You’ve got nothing to worry about!” 

“Yuh huh.” She headed upstairs and the moment she was gone, he put his feet back up for a moment, causing A.J. to laugh slightly. 

“You’re gonna get yourself into some serious trouble!” She told him. 

 “Nah, she don’t mean it. She don’t care as much as she acts like.”

“I get the feeling she’ll kill you just because she can,” Adelay signed, “I mean, she’ll say it’s because your feet are on the couch, but this stems deeper than that.”

Noah was about to reply when Juka walked back in the room. “Let’s go, children.”

“Yes, Mom.” Adelay got up off the floor immediately. “Finally, we can leave since Juka started moving her ass.” 

“Hey, I saw that!” Juka called out as Adelay went outside, the rest of the group following.

-----

The walk to the beach went by quickly; everyone making conversation on the way. 

“Hey, A.J. You ever been here before?” Noah asked her.

“To the beach?”

“To the festival.”

“Eh... Nikola used to take me when I was younger, but I haven’t been in years.”

“Any real reason?” 

“He works a lot these days, so we don’t go much anymore. Plus, I rarely have time to go, because of my schedule.” She shrugged. “This is the first time I’ve been able to go in years. Do you all go a lot?” 

“My parents usually take me and Harris, or sometimes his dad will take us, but my parents are out of town, and I think his dad is workin’,” Juka explained, to which Harris nodded.

The beach was pretty crowded, so they knew that the lines to get food would be very long. There were people and tents everywhere, if there were any more people, someone could easily get lost in the crowd. “It’s way more crowded than it usually is… I think there was half this amount last year and the year before.” Harris looked around at the crowd, “You can barely see the sand anywhere.”

“Yeah, it’s almost annoying. Though I did hear a lot of the other kids at school mention that they were going, so it wouldn’t surprise me if it’s just a bunch of high school kids here... I want some caramel corn. Anybody willing to walk over to the stand that sells it with me?” Adelay queried, moving out of the way of an oncoming group of kids. 

“Yeah sure, I’ll go.” Harris said.

“Do you think they’ll sell kettle corn?” A.J. asked, her voice quiet, though it was likely because it was already so loud at the beach.

He thought for a moment. “I don’t see why they wouldn’t. Come on. Juka? Noah? You two comin’?” He asked, looking back at the pair.

“No thanks. Be careful not to get lost!” Juka told them.

“I’m gonna hang back too,” Noah agreed as the three walked off to find the stand.

The three made their way through the crowd, not seeing the popcorn stand anywhere. “You sure it’s this way, Elle?” Harris questioned with a raised brow. “I can’t see over anybody.” 

Adelay gave him a shrug in response.

“Did you see it, A.J.?” Harris turned to look at her, or at least turned to look at where she was before. “A.J.?” He looked around him but she was nowhere to be found, “Oh, shit. Elle, we lost A.J.!” 

Adelay looked at him before looking around. "That's not good. Come on." 

The two walked through the crowd, Adelay grabbing his hand so that they wouldn't get separated. They searched everywhere, behind the tents, near the stage the band was using, and around the restrooms. Their clothes and faces were covered in sweat. Adelay said she needed to go to the restroom anyhow, so  Harris waited for her.

Harris found himself getting frustrated with the ordeal. Anything could've happened to her. We didn't even notice she was gone. What if she got trampled by the crowd or something?" He pushed that thought from his mind. He wasn't fond of the idea that she had gotten herself hurt, or any of the people he cared about getting hurt for that matter. Then, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He turned to it, and sure enough, it was a smaller person wearing a maroon Cordovan hat.

"A.J.!" He tried waving to get her attention. A.J. turned around upon hearing her name, trying to navigate the crowd. When she turned, Harris let out a sigh of relief. Once she got closer, it was apparent that she had found the popcorn stand, carrying two bags of kettle corn and one bag of caramel corn.

"Where did you guys go? I told you where the stand was! It wasn't-" Before she could finish her sentence, Harris gave her a tight hug, almost without thinking. She froze, shocked for a moment before trying her best to hug him back. The back of his head touched her face and she knew her face would start turning red any moment. Despite this she felt comfortable in the embrace in a way she couldn’t put into words if she tried. The pair released each other; her face now slightly reddened, though it was more prominent on the cheek that his head had touched. Adelay walked out a moment later.

“A.J.! Where were you? You know how worried we were about you?”

 A.J. simply handed the caramel corn to her. "I bought you this."

"How much did this cost?" Adelay wondered, looking at the bag.

"Don't worry about it. Consider it a gift." A.J. smiled.

"What's the second bag for?" Harris asked.

"This is for Nikola. He loves kettle corn a lot. The first bag is for everyone here, so you're welcome to have some."

The three returned to the table; Juka and Noah not noticing them return. “Damn, how long was that line?” Noah looked at them with a confused expression. 

“It wasn’t that long, surprisingly, not that these two would have any idea,” A.J. said with an amused look. “They got lost. I bought three bags of popcorn, because if you buy two, they give  you a third one for half the price, so I got one for Nik!” She said holding up her bags with a bright smile.

“I specifically told you all not to get lost!” Juka gave them a look. 

“We didn’t get lost. We lost A.J.!” Harris responded. 

“Well, I wasn’t lost. I actually found what we were looking for.” She looked at him, shaking her bags to prove her point.

Juka chuckled softly. “Yeah, alright. Let’s hurry up and see if we can’t get a good spot. I kinda actually want to go watch them perform.” She stood up. ”Can I have some of that caramel corn?” 

Adelay opened her bag and allowed Juka to take a small handful out. The group then headed over to the area where the band was performing as the evening sky set in. Noah kept stopping to buy snacks along the way.

“This thing comes around once a year, and I like festival snacks, so I’m buying everything and you can’t stop me.” he said, stuffing another candy box into his backpack. There’s something missing though…” He looked around before he found the tent he was looking for, “Oooh… Hey, I’ll catch up with ya later, bye!” 

“Wh- Noah?!” Juka called after him. “Only this kid! I get the feeling he needs to be supervised.”  

“Nah, he’ll be fine! Let’s go.” Harris turned back to the area where the band would be performing, the other three following behind.

They stood watching the band perform an upbeat song, everyone around moving their feet or waving their hands and generally having a good time. Even A.J. seemed to be getting into it, her hand on her hat to keep it from falling off as she danced with Adelay she shook the bags of kettle corn with the other. 

Juka and Harris laughed at her energy. Harris leaned over to her, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that’s a totally different person from the person who showed up with us. Maybe we still haven’t found her yet.” 

“Maybe, her voice does seem a bit deeper than earlier!” Juka shot back as Noah walked up with an ice cream cone. “Found you and it was definitely worth it to go back. I have ice cream.”

Juka looked at him incredulously, “You found an ice cream stand and didn’t say anything? Take me to it! Please.”

Noah feigned annoyance. “Alright alright! Harris, you comin’?”

“Yeah, I’m down for some ice cream.”

“Elle! A.J.! You guys want to go get some ice cream?” The two in question turned to the trio.

Adelay’s face lit up. “Yes, always!” She ran up to the others in anticipation.

“No, thanks! I’ll watch the band and save our spot!” A.J replied, turning back to watch the band. 

“Alright, let’s move!” The other three laughed and started walking.

Harris looked back at A.J. briefly. She stood watching the performance, her right hand hanging onto her bags of kettle corn  “On second thought… I should stay… We probably shouldn’t leave anybody by themselves, right?”

“Oh, good point. I’ll bring you back a cone, You want chocolate-vanilla swirl, right?”

“Yeah. Thanks, Noah!” He said as he made his way back to where they’d left A.J. She’d been so busy watching the band, she hadn’t noticed that he’d come back. “Hey!”

She looked mildly surprised at his return, but she didn’t seem upset by it. “I thought you went with the others to get ice cream.”

“I changed my mind. Noah’s getting me some. I didn’t want to leave you by yourself.”

“I mean you could’ve. I wouldn’t have cared much.” She said, fixing her glasses.

“I’m assumin’ you don’t want the company then?”

“It’s not about that. The company is nice, and I’m grateful that I have it. I’m just used to not having it, so I’ve grown accustomed to not complaining about it, and I learned not to ask for it. It’s easiest to distance myself rather than constantly needing company.” She tilted her head slightly, as if in thought.

Harris didn’t have a response for that, but he didn’t like the empty feeling it gave him. He couldn’t imagine not being able to hang out with his friends, or just refusing to ask people to hang out. He couldn’t count how many times he’d call Juka to ask her to come over when they were younger, but for him to just not spend time with her... It sounded… lonely. He thought about what he could say next, then he found what he thought was the best response, but it could just as easily be the worst one if the implication upset her. “Well, I can’t speak for the others because they’re usually pretty busy, but I wouldn’t mind if you called me up to go have fun sometimes.”

She looked at him for the first time in their conversation, a bit taken aback. “I’d be on board with that.” Despite her initial expression, Harris didn’t miss the way her face lit up afterward. She looked back at the band.

Harris noticed it then. She wasn’t flushing. In fact, her face was pale as ever, not even showing any signs that she could be the least bit uneasy.

‘Well, I don’t only turn red when I’m flustered or uncomfortable. I have sensitive skin, it turns red at anything touching it. Plus, I’m fairly pale, so naturally I’m more prone to getting red skin pretty easily.” He must’ve had a confused expression because she clarified. “You said that aloud.” To which he gave a hum of satisfaction. Thinking about it, when they stopped hugging earlier, her face was slightly redder on one side than the other. He hadn’t paid much mind to it though.

“Not sure why I’d be flustered though. I don’t feel uncomfortable around you. If anything, I feel more comfortable with you and Adelay than most people. You’re easy to talk to and your naturally relaxed and cheerful demeanour makes you a fun person to be around. It’s relaxing; it’s like… letting go of tension I didn’t know I had.” 

Harris turned away from her, feeling his own face start to heat up. He didn’t know what he expected her to say, but he certainly knew that it wasn’t that. He couldn’t come up with a response, but A.J. didn’t seem to mind and he was grateful that she didn’t notice his face turning red, or maybe she just didn’t care. After his face returned to normal he looked at the band again, enjoying the comfortable silence that listening to the music brought. He felt a slight warmth near his right hand, looking down and noticing that A.J.’s hand was close to his own. He couldn’t tell if she moved her hand closer on purpose or not, but he didn’t know if he wanted to question it. He grabbed her hand gently, causing her to look down at it, before interlocking their fingers in response and looking back up at the band. He’d taken her hand before, but it was different this time and both of them were aware of it. For all they knew, it could’ve been a reaction for the moment and they’d never speak of it again. Of course, neither of them wanted that to be the case.

-----

Juka, Noah, and Adelay were finally heading back to where Harris and A.J. were. “Man, everyone wants ice right now. Do people really eat ice cream at night?” Noah asked, taking a lick from his cone.

Juka looked at him, dumbfounded. “Noah, is that an actual question?”

“Yeah, why?”

Juka and Adelay shared a look. Trying to keep from bursting into laughter and just as Juka was about to explain, Noah realised.

“Oh, wait! That’s a stupid question! And now I don’t even remember what I was trying to ask!” He sighed as the two girls covered their mouths with their hands. “Anyways! I hope they’re doing okay.”

“I’m sure, they’re fine. I don’t think they’d get into too much-” Juka looked over, noticing where they were standing, immediately noticing their interlocked hands. “Trouble…” Noah and Adelay followed her gaze. 

“Huh. I wouldn’t have picked up on that.” Noah said, walking towards them. “Harris, I got your ice cream! Be careful, it started melting on the way here, sorry.” 

Harris and A.J. turned around; Harris taking the ice cream cone with a grateful smile.

Adelay walked up soon after, the four immediately making conversation.

Juka hung back a bit, shaking her head in amusement. “Lookin’ back, I really shoulda seen this comin’.” she laughed before joining the group.

[sunfloweradoring]

the one with the terrible first date

Hi! So if you were wondering I was thinking of structuring the page like the stories with ‘the one with...’ being in chronological order. Obviously it’s totally fine to dip in & out whenever & to whichever story but I’ll refer back to events or things that happened in previous pieces. However, if you guys had specific requests whether they’re about one of the ‘the one with...’ stories or just in general I was thinking of doing some blurbs or mini one shots potentially connected to one of the stories if you just dropped me a message of what you were thinking. I hope this makes sense!

Anyway, enjoy this disastrous first date :) xx

masterlist

word count: 2.8k

Ever since the party 10 days ago Harry and I had been in contact almost nonstop. We’d only spent a matter of hours chatting that night, but I felt like I’d managed to gain some sort of understanding of him as a person in that time; whilst I was kind of right about that, in the days we’d been texting and sharing the occasional phone call, I was starting to realise what a genuinely kind-hearted guy he really was.

Each call or initiating message from him always started asking about me: how I was, how my day had been, what I was going to be doing the next day. Somehow he also managed to shift the focus off himself to me, making me feel like not only did he really care about the answers to these queries, but that I was the centre of his attention.

Therefore, when one Tuesday evening (after a particularly boring day trawling through a couple of scripts sent to me by my agent) Harry asked if I wanted to ‘go out sometime over the weekend’ I felt an eruption of butterflies in my tummy and a stupidly big grin take over my features.

‘yeah, that’d be cool :)’ I replied, trying to vastly underplay the amount of ‘cool’ it would be.

‘great :D’ He responded, ‘what are you doing saturday night? would you maybe wanna come round mine?’

‘that sounds like fun, do you want me to bring anything? we could have a movie night or something’ I texted back, already starting to feel slightly overcome with excitement as my hands felt a little sweaty as they tightly grasped my phone.

‘you let me worry about everything! send me your address and i’ll pick you up at 6:30, just bring yourself and your beautiful face ;)’

                                                          --------

“What are you gonna wear, then?” Saoirse questioned, leaning back against my headboard with her legs crossed out in front of her. I stood with my hands clamped to my hips, nearly half my wardrobe strewn out across the floor as I’d panicked earlier to find something to wear Saturday.

“Well, that’s the million pound question, isn’t it?” I huffed, pushing my hair out of my face as I inspected the various items of clothing cluttering up my bedroom carpet. “I don’t actually know what we’re doing so how am I supposed to know what to wear!”

Saoirse let out a little laugh as she swung her legs off the bed, pushing herself away from the mattress to stand beside me. “Okay, no need to get stressy. We’ve got the rest of the evening and all of tomorrow if we need it so just calm down.” She soothed, gently placing her hands on my arms as she guided me to take a seat on the bed. “What about this?” She questioned, leaning down and retrieving an emerald green knitted jumper from the pile and holding it up to her chest. “You could wear it with a skirt, or some trousers, jeans maybe. It would look really cute. Brings out your eyes.” Her words seemed to flow like a stream of conscious, her mind running away with her as she chucked it onto the bed beside me. I gathered it, holding it on my lap. It was my favourite jumper, but did it really shout first date?

“Those jeans are nice.” I spoke, leaning over the little rail at the end of my bed and pointing down to a blue pair of jeans. Saoirse glanced up at me, her eyebrows pulled together. “Um, no.” Was all she responded with.

                                                         --------

“Right, so you’re both going to the cinema and then having some food?” My aunt, Rose, confirmed, hands submerged in the sink as she washed up the dishes. I nodded tentatively. I’d lived with her long enough for her to see straight through me and now exactly when I was lying; thus I hoped if I kept my speech to a bare minimum I may be able to get away with it. “Alright, well I hope you and Saoirse have a nice time, say hello to her for me.” Rose smiled, glancing at me before returning to her task. I released a silent breath before leaving the kitchen, going to the front door.

At 6:28 I wanted to be at the front of the drive to avoid anyone from the house seeing Harry picking me up. As far as they knew, Saoirse and I were having a friend date and that’s all they needed to know. 

“Bye!” I shouted behind me as I pulled the door closed, zipped up my blue puffer jacket and ran down the two porch steps and stood at the end of the drive. With my hands stuffed in my pockets to protect me from the late winter chill, I tried to shield my face as best I could in the top of my jacket. 

I’d barely been standing there five minutes before a car slowed in front of me, the passenger window lowering and a head popping out over the passenger seat. I bent my knees a little to allow me to see inside the car.

“Hiya! Sorry I’m a little late. I think it’s the universe’s law that if you’re going somewhere for a certain time, every single red light has to hit you first.” Harry chuckled, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the handle of the driver’s door.

“It’s fine! Don’t worry.” I giggled, reaching for the handle of the passenger door. “Only like two-”

“Wait!” Harry squawked, shooting out of the car at the speed of light and running round in time to gently bat my hand away from the handle. “That’s my job.” He grinned, pulling open the door and gesturing with his hand for me to get in. I blushed a deep crimson. Fingers crossed he couldn’t see as I nipped into the car.

“Thank you.” I spoke shyly as he himself got back into the driver’s seat. He shot me a smirk as he started the car again.

“What kinda gentleman would I be if I let m’lady open a door for herself?” Harry joked, adopting a both accent as he drove away from the front of my house. The butterflies that had been dancing away inside my tummy since Tuesday suddenly became a frenzied explosion at his words; how on earth was I supposed to come with him saying things like this the rest of the night?

                                                         --------

Harry’s little apartment was warm an cozy - a needed escape from the frosty outside. It was small and quaint, but what more could you expect of a 17 year old, really? 

“Welcome to my humble abode.” Harry spoke, flicking on the light to illuminate a modestly decorated studio flat. He closed the door, removing his coat as he gestured to take mine too.

“Thank you.” I repeated in the same tone as before, shimmying out of my jacket. 

“So I made us dinner, and we can watch something afterwards if you still wanted to. But let me just put the food back in the oven to warm it up, yeah?” He smiled, his hand ghosting over the the bottom of my back as a way to guide me through the flat.

“It already smells really nice in here.” I complimented, breathing in the aromas of the food he’d obviously prepared earlier. 

“Ye haven’t tried it yet.” Harry jested with a little laugh. “But thanks, it’s one of my mum’s recipes I think. She told me it would be a good thing to make for a first date.” He explained, placing two covered dishes into the oven and turning it on. 

“Can I ask what it is, or is it a surprise?” I questioned, attempting to glance under the foil before the oven was promptly closed.

“Oi, no it’s a surprise!” He interjected, quickly moving his body in front of the oven. There was only a matter of inches between our faces, causing (for the second but most certainly not the last time) a blush to sweep my cheeks. “Right let’s see what film we can start while we wait for that to heat up.” His voice was far softer than usual, his eyes momentarily darting between mine and my lips. 

                                                        --------

I sat on his little sofa, flicking through the little booklet of DVDs he had stored. 

“When In Rome?” I questioned with a little laugh. “What’s a guy like you doing with a film like that?” I teased, looking up at him as he stood in front of the telly, hands holding the remote. 

“Heyyy,” Harry laughed, voice a little whiney. “I can be in touch with my feminine side, you know. I actually quite enjoy the odd RomCom.” He said, taking a seat next to me, his knee grazing the side of my jean covered leg.

“Sorry.” I giggled, continuing to flick through the pages. “Just never put you down for someone like that.” I shrugged.

“Oh? Then what kinda person did you put me down for then?” He smirked, leaning back into the sofa, his head propped in his hand as he elbow rested on the back of the cushion. 

“I don’t really know, maybe like every other teenage boy: too cool for this, and too busy with girls for that.” My words were intended as a joke, but there was a little part of me that perhaps thought there was some truth in it.

“No, no, no, definitely not.” Harry shook his head and sending his curls in every which direction, sitting up straighter. “My mother taught me to respect women, taught me to be kind to others and that you’re never too good for anything.” He said. A smile formed on my lips. He really was a true gentleman, wasn’t he?

                                                       --------

“And then it just kinda went from there.” Harry summarised, sipping from the glass bottle of coke. “Just went on there as myself but I think it’s pretty cool I’ve come out in a band. Who knows, could be the next Beatles.” He laughed. “Nah, we may get somewhere but nothing like them. They’re legends.” 

Before I could reply, my nose scrunched in displeasure at the new waft of smells assaulting my nostrils. “What’s tha-” The shrill beeping noise of the fire alarm cut me off.

“Shit!” Harry shouted, leaping up from the sofa and dashing towards the oven. As he wrenched open the oven door, a pillow of smoke tumbled out, causing him to cover his mouth and nose with his elbow as he attempted to turn off any heat source making the situation worse. “Shit, shit, shit, shit.” He chanted to himself, grabbing the oven gloves and pulling the two dishes out of the oven, placing them on the side and pulling of the foil covering. “Well that looks delicious.” He sarcastically observed, standing to the side as I walked up next to him. The food was entirely black, charred beyond belief. 

“Oh my god, Harry.” I pursed my lips together to prevent the laugh that was attempting to escape. “I’m sorry. I thought it was gonna be really nice.” I cleared my throat, wafting the air around with my hand. 

“You can laugh.” Harry spoke with a grin, bumping his hip into mine playfully. This seemed to unleash the giggles that had been hiding in my throat. “I just wanted to impress you.” He quietly whined. I slowly calmed down, holding out my arms in a offered hug. He pushed the oven gloves off his hands, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around my wait as mine encircled the back of his neck.

“You don’t need to try and impress me, Harry.” I spoke quietly, my lips near his ear. “I wanted to come on this date because I like you, not because I think you’re the next Jamie Oliver.” 

“Well I clearly showed that’s not in the near future, didn’t I!” He chuckled, his chest rumbling a little against mine.

“Let’s just order a pizza or something, yeah?” I offered, pulling away enough to see his face before he eagerly nodded. 

“You go sit down, I’ll get you another coke and I’ll order the pizza.” He smiled, quickly stealing a kiss from my cheek before he released me. “Anything in particular you want?” 

“Honestly anything, just not mushrooms.” I replied, turning around and taking my place on the sofa once more.

“No mushrooms? Are you like 5?” He joked, shooting me a wink as he picked up the phone to order the replacement food. I just giggled, shaking my head at him. 

He quickly ordered the pizza, going to the fridge and retrieving another bottle of coke. “Here ye go. Thanks for not freaking out about the food.” He smiled, getting a bottle opener to remove the top before walking in the direction of the sofa. What he hadn’t foreseen was that, in his panic to get to the oven only moments before, he’d managed to move the edge of the carpet into a folded position.

“Har-” I began but before anything else could leave my lips his sock covered toes connected with the dislodged carpet. His eyes widened in shock as he tripped forward towards the sofa, his hands going out to protect his fall, the bottle of coke flying forwards and spilling all over me. I shot up from the sofa, gasping at the sudden event.

“Oh my god! Oh my- Fuck, Y/N I’m so so so so sorry!” He panicked, jumping to his feet and approaching me with his hands held out to do something, yet he didn’t know what to do. 

“Um... it’s okay... uh do you have a towel or something before it goes everywhere?” I asked, looking down at my soaking jeans and the darkened material of the bottom half of my green jumper. 

“Uh, of course, yeah, let me just grab one.” Harry quickly ran off into the bathroom, coming back a second later with a towel. “I’m really sorry, Y/N. God this is terrible.” He muttered the second part of his sentence, handing me the towel as he stared at me. I wrapped it around myself, trying to soak up any of the liquid it could. “Here, let me get you something to change into. Can’t be sat there in those now.”

“Harry, it’s fine, honest-”

“No! I’ve been a twat, one sec.” Again he dashed off, coming back a moment later with a hoodie and a pair of joggers.

“Thanks, Harry.” I gave me a reassuring smile as I took the clothes and went to the bathroom to change. As I closed the door I could see him sat on the dry part of the sofa, head in hands. Poor boy. I looked at myself in the mirror, silently laughing to myself. This was certainly not how I was expecting tonight to go!

                                                      --------

“God I can’t tell you how sorry I am.” Harry spoke, both our bellies now full with pizza as he walked with me to the door, grabbing both our jackets. I giggled at him as I put my jacket back on.

“Seriously, Harry, don’t worry about it. I’m literally the clumsiest person ever. It could have happened to anyone.” I replied.

“Really, the clumsiest?” 

“Okay,” I laughed. “The second clumsiest.” I jested, gently poking him with my elbow. “But you could do something to make it up.” I shyly added, avoiding eye contact. I could see his head snap in my direction.

“Anything! Yes, what is it?” He asked, stepping a little closer, but still remaining respectful with at least a few feet between us.

“You could give me a goodnight kiss.” I looked at his face, watching as his features seemed to light up.

“You still want to kiss me after I burned the food and tried to drown you in coke?” He asked, tone somewhat hopeful as he closed a little more of the space between us. I simply nodded my head, a little smile curving my lips. 

Harry’s grin remained prominent, his hands gentle as that came onto my waist, removing all the distance that was left between us. The intensity of his stare I had felt at the party was back, but I didn’t really have time to process it before we were both slowly leaning in to one another. 

His lips slowly pressed against my lips. The warmth of his skin against mine and the way neither of our mouths were entirely closed due to the fact we couldn’t stop grinning sent shivers shooting across my skin. His right hand left my waist, moving to cup my left cheek. My arms went around his middle, a sigh of pleasure leaving my lips as he pulled away, just enough to put a small amount of space between us so he could look me in the eye.

I think I could get used to that. 

[its-always-the-witching-hour]

Chapter 2 of Apocalyptic AU - Sanders Sides

Here you guys go! The second chapter has arrived!

Word count - 1705

Pairings - Some Dukeceit

Warnings - (Spoilers) Blood, injuries, abuse (physical and emotional), peer pressure, bad pasts, fire, zombies

Characters - Remus Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit “Devan” Sanders

This is mainly the backstories of our other two darkside children. Enjoy! Also some soft stuff as well

Previous chapter - Next chapter

----

“How did you injure yourself?”

It had been several weeks since Remus and Devan had found Virgil, and they were currently sitting around an open fire in the middle of an abandoned carpark - So they could see if anything came, Remus had stated, but the others suspected he just wanted a reason to start a dumpster fire. Remus was changing Devan’s bandages, and Vigil was attempting to heat up a can of baked beans they had found during a house raid.

Remus turned to give Virgil a hard glare at the question, which caused the anxious one to hurriedly start apologizing, “sorry it must be private you can tell me when you’re ready I didn’t mean to sound rude I was just curious because if I know what caused it I might be able to help more and-”

Devan cut him off by placing a hand on his arm, and one on Remus’ shoulder, “It’s fine. I guess that I should tell you how it happened.”

“Dee, are you sure? I know that it hurts to talk about it.”

“He deserves to know, Remus. I feel that we can trust him.”

“Okay… do you want to show him?”

“Yes.”

Remus began to unwind the old bandage on Devan’s face. Virgil tried to keep his face passive, but he had never seen Devan’s injury before, and he was a bit uncertain. The last piece of the cloth fell away to reveal a large burn mark covering the whole left side of his face. The skin around it was red and shiny, as though it had been larger before. As Devan moved his face, the newly formed scabs cracked and started bleeding again, but he only sighed. The eye that was usually covered by the bandages was still closed.

“Are you…”

“Blind in that eye? Yeah. I was born with a condition that made me lose the vision in one eye,” he opened the eye in question, revealing a cloudy pupil, and a strangely yellow iris, “the colour is to do with the condition.” He said blatantly, noticing Virgil’s confusion.

“My parents were… less than understanding. When they found out about my disease, they abandoned me to the streets. Just turfed me out with a blanket, some food and a change of clothes. No warning beforehand, no conversation to figure out what was going to happen to me, nothing. I was only 8 at the time.

“A child services officer found me a week later. They bought me to an orphanage, where I was adopted later by this woman and her husband. It was nice with them at first; they sent me to school, gave me gifts and were really understanding with my condition. Then I came out as gay. I was nervous about telling them, but I told myself that they would understand, but how wrong I was. My ‘mother’ had to actually run to the bathroom to stop herself from throwing up, and my ‘father’ hit me hard across the face. From that day on, my ‘parents’ hated me. Th-they threw bottles at me whenever I talked to them, and hit me for things that I couldn’t control. There was never a day when I was without bruises. They emotionally abused me too. Calling me slurs, a-and telling me that I was worthless, and I would never be loved, a-and that it was my fault that my birth parents had thrown me out-”

He was crying now, hiding his mutilated face in his hands with Remus having wrapped a protective arm around him. Virgil reached forwards tentatively and placed his hand on Devan’s arm. After a couple of minutes in that slightly awkward hug, Devan looked up, his face streaked with silver.

“T-thanks. I’m fine now,” He wiped at his eyes with the back of his hand as Remus gave him a worried look, still not entirely convinced.

“When the day the zombies arrived, I was the first to see them. I went and told my ‘parents’, but the didn’t believe me, of course. My ‘father’, who was boiling water for a coffee, threw some at my face, where… where it did this,” He gestured weakly to the large half-healed scab.

“I ran upstairs; the pain was unbearable, but I managed to barricade myself in my room before I collapsed onto my bed. I think I passed out, but when I could move again, the zombies had left, and taken my ‘parents’ with them. I can’t remember how long I stayed there, nursing my wound until I decided to go out and search for survivors. It took a while, but eventually, I found Remus, and he helped me out,” Devan looked gratefully over at Remus, who blushed at the sudden attention.

“Well, yeah. If you hadn’t found me, I’d probably be dead.” Virgil looked at Remus with wide eyes, intrigued by where this was going.

“Where did you come from Remus?” Virgil queried, hoping to know more about his new friends. Devan looked at Remus with curiosity as well.

“Yeah, you never actually told me what happened to you. If you don’t mind sharing, that is.”

Remus looked away, and mumbled something under his breath, avoiding eye contact.

“Remus…?” Devan looped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks Dee. It’s just… hard to talk about, you know?” Remus mumbled into Devan’s hair

“I think I do.”

“But I think I want to tell you guys. I need to tell someone, or it will eat me up inside.” He gently broke the hug and poked at the fire with a stick. “I have – had parents and a twin brother. And I guess I was responsible for their deaths.

“I was the youngest out of us, so my older brother, Roman, was always bossing me around. I hated it. He would tell me to clean his room, and when I refused he would tell our parents about the latest test that I failed. He did love me though. He always defended me when I was bullied in school for being weird, and he sat with me during lunch when I had no-one to talk to. He was like my best friend. Because he took care of me so often, I started to hang out with him and his friends. I could tell they didn’t really like me, but they never said anything rude to my face when Roman was around. One day, on the day it happened, we were hanging out around a closed supermarket. Roman’s friend Christian, I think it was, dared me to climb up onto the roof. Roman wasn’t happy about me doing it, but I’ve had worse dares. It didn’t take me long to find a way to climb up, by using the low hanging gutter and some garbage bins. I saw the first zombie when I was up there, and I tried to tell the others, but they thought that I was pranking them. I pranked my brother all the time, you see. When the other zombies appeared I knew that I had to do something to help them, but I couldn’t get down in time. They got Christian first, which to be honest, he had it coming. The others were quick to follow. I… I didn’t see Roman get turned, but I did see him run inside the building with a bunch of zombies chasing him, so… I could only presume the worst. I stayed up on the roof with my hands over my ears until they had all left, then I climbed down and went home. The zombies had gotten there first though. I stayed in my home, going over the situation over and over in my head, thinking of what I should have done better to help them. If only I had seen the zombie’s sooner, or to get Roman to climb onto the roof, or, or done something!” Remus was sobbing into Devan’s neck now, locked in a tight embrace between him and Virgil.

“There was nothing you could do Remus.” Devan rubbed his back reassuringly.

“Anyway, you didn’t actually see Roman die, so it’s possible he could still be alive!” Remus sat up so fast that he nearly headbutted Devan in the nose and stared at Virgil with wide eyes.

“Are you saying that my brother could still be alive!” he yelled, shaking Virgil by the shoulders. “I can see him again!!” Remus got up and started to dance madly around the fire with a bemused Devan and slightly shaken Virgil watching him.

When he came to sit back down, he ended up practically sitting in Devan’s lap, who hugged him close and buried his face into his hair. “I hate to say this,” he murmured, “but there is a chance that Roman didn’t survive.” Remus sat back up and looked Devan straight in his mismatched eyes (Remus did NOT notice the beautiful way they danced in the light of the fire, or how they were filled with such compassion).

“He has survived. I can feel it. Besides, I know my twin. He wouldn’t have died to something as minor as a zombie apocalypse.”

“Says the person who thought their brother had died just a minute ago,” Devan muttered jokingly under his breath, just loud enough for Virgil to hear.

“What?” Remus asked.

“Just saying that we should probably go to sleep now. I’ll keep watch.”

“But Dee, your bandages?”

“I’ll be fine. It might actually do some good getting some air on the wound.”

Remus knew he couldn’t argue with Devan for long, and besides he was feeling tired with relief now, so he curled up next to Devan and promptly fell asleep. Devan noticed that Virgil was watching them with a mix of happiness and longing.

“Come on Vee. Your safe with us,” Devan beckoned to the nervous boy, who crawled over hesitantly before settling into a gap between Devan and Remus that looked like it had been made just for him. Devan watched over them, knowing deep in his heart that no matter how annoying they were or how cold-hearted he acted, he would defend both of them with his life down to the very last second.

 Taglist! (I just tagged everyone who reblogged my first chapter. Hope you don’t mind)

@pastelbootybomb

@firey-alex

@phoenixdoesstuff

@aimasup

@yesicanbelieveitsnotbutter

@dierotenixe

@astraheart04

@lovelilijazunde

@feralratt

@elementalshadowwitch

@sanderssidesocfanstuff

@oofmood

@holliberries

@authorized-trash

@decentsanders

@cass-withsass

@amintyworld

@sanderssidesweirdo

@its-logan-appreciation-day

Hope I got you all, and see you in the next chapter

[lizzylunawizardessfanfics]

Not Related

Pairing: Cerim x Lizzy

Summary: It wasn’t uncommon for the young couple to often be mistaken for being siblings or related in someway on a daily basis, but there comes a time when enough is enough.

I was in the middle of doing a lecture when I noticed that it was going to be ending soon so I turned towards the students. “Does anyone have any questions,” I asked the students to see if anyone didn’t understand something I had covered during the lecture. It seemed that no one raised their hands which I smiled feeling proud that my lecture was easy to follow. And with that the bell rang signaling that class was dismissed and it was time for lunch. “Alright class please remember to have your homework done for next time we meet as we will be practicing what we went over today,” I told them while watching the students slowly start to filter out of the room.

“That was a good lecture,” I heard my familiar say as I looked over to Rufus and smiled happily while I started to pack my stuff up. “Thank you! I thought so as well,” I said in return, giving him a pet on the head. “Um excuse me prefect Lizzy,” I heard a voice say in which I looked over to see one of my students who had three others standing behind the female student. “Yes, how can I help you,” I asked curiously, closing my bag and setting it on the podium. “It isn’t class related, but we couldn’t help but realize that you look a lot like the boy Cerim Leiado and we were wondering if you were related to him,” the student asked her query thus causing me to be shocked for a moment before being unable to help but giggle.

“Oh no no we’re not related in any way, but he is my boyfriend,” I said, answering the question with a smile as I felt that familiar skipping beat of my heart when mentioning the word boyfriend. The students seemed shocked and quickly apologized though I ensured them it was perfectly fine. “You aren’t the first ones to ask, I hope you all have a good day,” I said, wishing my students a good rest of their day. Finally being able to head out I walked the halls with Rufus right by my side. In the short distance I saw the familiar hair of pale blue hair that belonged to my boyfriend. A smile growing on my face I started to make my way over to him as I called out his name to get his attention which oddly he didn’t seem to hear me. He was looking out the window as he didn’t seem to be in a good mood I noticed when I got closer.

“Hey Cerim are you alright,” I asked once by his side and placed a hand on his shoulder which seemed to snap him out of whatever thoughts he was lost in. “Oh hello, my apologies for not hearing you… It’s been a long morning so far,” he answered when turning to me giving a small tired smile before feeling him kiss my forehead. Smiling, I give his cheek a small kiss in return before taking his hand in mine. “I’m sorry to hear; how about we talk about your morning while we walk to our spot,” I suggested as it was rare to see him as such. “Sounds good, let us be on our way princess,” he replied with a nod and with that we started walking down the hallway to head outside.

Walking past the courtyard away from the countless amounts of students I heard Cerim let out a small sigh. “It happened again,” he started and I knew right away what he was talking about in which I gave his hand a light squeeze continuing to listen. “The most frustrating part is when guys just assume I’m your brother and start asking if you’re single or what kind of things you like. You’d think with the amount of times either of us have clarified that we’re not related we wouldn’t have to repeat ourselves,” he ranted letting out a huff at the end. “I know and it is a pain, but people stop asking at some point. We also have great friends who help us out and correct people,” I said as it did help out a lot and I was grateful for their backup. I smiled when I heard him let out a chuckle along with nodding his head in agreement. 

“You’re right, though maybe I should just shout loudly how much I love you for the world to hear me,” he suddenly said with a smirk, looking at me with his sky blue eyes causing my heart to beat against my chest while my face felt hotter. “Staaahp,” I whined with a small laugh, of course it made me over the moon happy to hear him say that, but at the same time I couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed. Feeling his arms wrap around me pulling me closer he was chuckling more feeling him kiss my cheek. “You’re so cute; I love you princess,” he whispered lovingly, which of course I wrapped my arms around him to hug him. “And I love you too, my prince charming,” I replied in return enjoying the peaceful moment. 

“You flaming mutt get off of me,” I heard Ronny's distinct squeaky voice shouting in the short distance ahead of us shouting at Rufus.

“But I love you brother!”

“For the last time I’m not your brother! Now get off so I can go find my acorns!” 

~~~~~

A few days have gone by as it’s been a little while since I’ve seen Lizzy due to her being busy with prefect duties and apparently a new case came up. Though I was going about my day in a good mood since when classes were all done I’d get to see her since she was going to have some free time; which like any good boyfriend would do I took it upon myself to make one of her favorites meals for her to eat. “Hopefully she’s been taking care of herself,” I wondered to myself as knowing her she’ll be running off of: a few hours of sleep, mozzarella sticks, and an absurd amount of coffee. “How come you never make me nice meals,” I heard Ronny ask from my shoulder as I walked through the halls making my way to the prefect’s office to find Lizzy.

“Because I already spoil you enough with more acorns than you should eat in a day,” I answered bluntly. Hearing his huff and mumbling it was clear that I seemed to prove my point. The more I got closer to reaching my destination the more voices I started to hear as I could only wonder what was going on. “Ohhh maybe a fight broke out,” Ronny said in an excited manner, rolling my eyes I highly doubted that was the case. “We love you,” I heard countless guys shouting as I saw a crowd gathered in the middle of the hallway, of course fanboys were blocking the way “I really do appreciate the flowers and stuff but I really can’t accept any of this, if you’d all please pardon me I really have someplace to be,” I heard Lizzy’s voice which I started to push my way through. “Is there a problem here,” I asked once I finally broke through and finally seeing the beautiful girl I get to call my girlfriend and when our eyes met I saw how her face lit up in joy for a moment; that was until a bunch of the other guys started complaining or groaning. “Alright listen up before any of y'all say anything else,” I heard her speak as she sounded tired but done with everything. 

“Oooh she's angry,” I heard Ronny whisper as I just silently nodded in agreement. “I am HAPPILY taken; Cerim, right here is my boyfriend: not my brother, not my cousin, nothing,” she assertively announced while linking her arm around mine and her other hand on the same arm making that all too familiar feeling of happiness swell up inside me. “The only way that my name would ever be Lizzy Lazuli Leiado is the day I marry him. Now if you’d all please excuse us I’m in need of a nap,” I heard her declare the first part as I felt my heart skip a beat at the mention of us getting married one day along now even feeling my own cheeks growing hot. 

Unable to help myself, I smirked a bit at the fanboys before following Lizzy as she softly pulled me along. “Sorry about all that, I really didn’t mean to get caught up in all of that,” she started to say before a tired sigh came out. Shaking my head softly I unlinked our arms and wrapped it around her shoulders to have her closer to me as we walked. “Don’t apologize, I’m just glad that now maybe they’ll get it through their heads; these past few days must have been rough huh,” I replied, giving her a small squeeze as she was just too cute like this. 

“Don’t tease me, I ran out of coffee yesterday.”

“How much coffee did you even drink??”

“I lost count after twenty…”

“Twenty cups?!”

“...No twenty pots,” she sheepishly said as I looked at her in shock as I’m more surprised she hasn’t fallen asleep yet but instead of lecturing her I shook my head and kissed her forehead. “Oh princess you really can be reckless haha, but I’ll always be here to save you,” I said as we both stopped walking for a moment. “Haha what can I say; I prefect’s job is never done,” she responded with a beautiful bright smile and her shoulders raised. While admiring her I couldn’t help but imagine our wedding day; leaning down a bit to rest my forehead against hers I watched as her face slowly grew pink. “I can’t wait til the day I get to marry you,” I softly said to her before I pressed my lips against her soft ones, I certainly missed her kisses. “Gahhh alright already enough with your kissy kissy faces blah,” I heard Ronny complain; for a moment I forgot he was with me. Pulling away from the kiss I softly rolled my eyes as of course leave it to him to ruin our moment. Starting to walk again to go relax at the north valley I remember I wanted to bring up her middle name.

“You didn’t tell me you had a middle name.”

“Haha well you never asked my prince.”

“Touche, touche- wait… Does that mean your name is short for something else?!”

“You’re so cute hehe.”

“What’s your full name?”

“I’ll tell you on our wedding day,” she said with a small smirk, for someone who was tired she seemed to still somehow had enough energy to be a tease, it just made me determined to find out one of these days. Though out of all of those other days, the most important will be the day I get to finally call her Mrs. Leiado.

[cheemerthelizard]

Crusader of Life 2: Chapter 11

This is the last one I have queued, but the journey is far from over! This is only the beginning to a very bizarre adventure! (Yes that means infrequent updates I’m sorry about that)

Jotaro peered over the horizon, seeing Kakyoin running over to him, waving.

“You’re really still ready to go?” Jotaro asked. His friend had just lost his only daughter, surely he wasn’t ready to come back and fight. “Nobody will blame you for taking a few days off to grieve Emily.”

“Well, as it turns out, Emily is fine,” Kakyoin answered through heavy breaths.

“What? B-but her body!” Koichi sputtered.

“Yes, that was, indeed, Emily’s dead body,” Kakyoin explained. “But Lily had duplicated her before it was too late, so there was another Emily with only a burn on her hand.”

“That’s a relief,” Josuke sighed. “I was getting pretty downhearted myself. She’s a cute kid.”

“Well, Kakyoin, if you’re really feeling yourself,” Jotaro smirked, “then welcome aboard.”

After telling Josuke and Koichi to stay at the shore, Jotaro started the boat, and they were off.

“Are you sure Josuke can take care of Chili Pepper if he shows up?” Kakyoin asked.

“Oh, believe me, he can,” Jotaro chuckled. “If anyone can take down that Stand, it’s Josuke.”

“I’ll send Hierophant to warn Mr. Joestar,” Kakyoin said. He summoned his Stand, and watched as it shot towards the slowly approaching ship. When Hierophant got there, he saw a familiar face, in an almost pitying state. Of course, he wasn’t expecting much different from Jotaro’s description of him.

“Excuse me, do you know where my cane is?” Joseph asked a Speedwagon worker.

“It’s right there, sir,” the worker answered.

“Ah, I see. Thank you.” Joseph reached for the cane, but stopped when it was carried over to him by Hierophant.

“It’s good to see you again, Mr. Joestar,” Kakyoin’s voice came through the Stand.

“There’s a voice I never thought I’d hear again,” Joseph smiled. “How are you doing, Kakyoin?”

“I’m doing fine, but that’s not important,” Hierophant told him. “You see, there’s a Stand user coming to attack you, and we wanted to warn you before it’s too late.”

“What’s that?” Joseph put a hand up to his ear. “A band member wants to whack me?”

This was not the Joseph Kakyoin knew a few years ago. “Staaand uuuuseeer… coming to ataaaaack yoooooou.”

“Ah, I see now,” Joseph said. “Sorry about that. Anyway, I’ve heard you and Lily have a child now. How are you liking that?”

“It’s hard, especially when Emily’s developed a Stand,” Hierophant laughed, “but I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“A Stand user?” Joseph asked. “Is it killing her?”

“No,” Kakyoin answered. “Well, not exactly. It is making her sick, but we’ve been limiting her use of it, and she’s recovering really well. I think we can allow her to use Walking on Sunshine by the end of this week.”

“Kakyoin, why aren’t you calling back Hierophant?” Jotaro queried. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, Mr. Joestar just wants to talk,” Kakyoin reassured him. “It’s been forever since we’ve caught up with each other, after all.”

Jotaro nodded. “You did tell him about Red Hot Chili Pepper, right?”

“I did. He doesn’t seem the least bit worried, though.”

“Well, tell him that we’re about to board the ship.”

“Will do.” Kakyoin had Hierophant pass on the news to Joseph, who nodded in acknowledgement. Soon, their little boat was close enough, and Jotaro, Kakyoin, and Okuyasu all got on.

“You know, it’s been nice talking to you,” Joseph continued, “but I wish I could see your face once again.”

“No need,” Kakyoin entered the room, calling back Hierophant. Joseph’s lips curled up into a smile.

“My, how you’ve grown,” he said.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you again, Mr. Joestar.”

“Who’s that young man behind you?”

“Oh, him? This is Okuyasu.” Kakyoin let the boy through, revealing his whole body.

“Okuyasu?”

“Yup,” Okuyasu answered. “I’m Josuke’s neighbor, and also a Stand user.”

“A what?”

“A Stand user.”

“Huh?”

“Stand user!”

“Ah, a Stand user,” Joseph nodded. Neither of them noticed that Kakyoin had snuck out, and was watching the ship dock with Jotaro.

“This is either gonna be really awkward or really heartwarming,” Jotaro grumbled, “and I’m not prepared for either.”

“Ah, still trying to keep that cold exterior as always, Jotaro,” Kakyoin chuckled. “Although, it will be really awkward for everyone if things don’t go well. I’m hoping that doesn’t happen.”

As the boat docked, and everyone safely made it to Morioh, Joseph emerged from the room he was in, and saw his son, Josuke, who couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“Great,” Jotaro whispered to Kakyoin, “it’s gonna be awkward.”

Joseph slowly walked down the ramp, but suddenly tripped, losing grip of his cane and falling to the floor. That is, until Josuke caught him.

“Watch your step,” he said. “You could fall in the ocean.”

“I’m sorry,” Joseph replied. “I would use my cane, but it seems like it broke while I was walking down here.”

Josuke looked at the cane, which he could easily fix, and sighed. “Looks like I have no choice.” He grabbed onto his father’s hand, and walked him down the rest of the way.

Kakyoin smiled brightly. Looks like it wouldn’t be awkward after all. “So, once we retrieve the bow and arrow and make sure the people affected don’t go mad with power, we should be pretty much done, right?”

Jotaro nodded. “The threat to Morioh will be gone, and if anyone else shows up to cause a commotion, Josuke and his friends will stop them right in their tracks.”

“We can finally go home soon,” Kakyoin sighed.

***

“Alright, start talking!” Jotaro slammed on the jail bars holding in Akira Otoishi, the user of Red Hot Chili Pepper. With him was Lily, standing by in case he tried anything funny.

“You won’t get anything out of me,” Akira scoffed, “I know you’re not going to kill me.”

“Lily?”

“You got it, Jotaro.” Lily summoned Ace of Pentacles, and made a copy of Akira, which Star Platinum punched, and punched hard. Multiple times. When he was done, the copied Akira was practically bleeding out, but not dead.

“We could leave you like this,” Jotaro threatened. “On the brink of death. It’s not dead, but it sure hurts way more.”

“How about we put that copy out of its misery?” Lily asked Jotaro.

“That sounds like a good idea,” Jotaro answered, punching a hole through the second Akira’s abdomen.

“Okay, okay! I’ll talk!” Akira stammered. “Whatever you need to know, I’ll tell!”

“Good, good,” Jotaro nodded. “So, first off, where are you hiding the bow and arrow?”

“What are you gonna do with it?” Akira asked. Jotaro summoned Star Platinum again, and Akira backed into a corner. “My house! My house!”

“How many other people did you use the arrow on, and who survived?”

“I-I don’t know them all! Honest!” Akira squeaked. “I can tell you the ones I know, but there might be others I didn’t list.”

He told the two of them all that he could, all while begging to be spared. When he was done, Jotaro lowered his hat, and left the jail, along with Lily.

“That’s a lot of Stand users,” Lily half-laughed.

“Good grief, we’re never leaving this town,” Jotaro groaned.

“So, how did it go?” Kakyoin asked.

“Oh, it went fine,” Lily sighed. “Jotaro took notes on all of the people who survived getting hit by the arrow.”

“Geez, that’s a lot,” Kakyoin mumbled. “We need a babysitter for Emily if we’re gonna get all of these done.”

“Actually, that’s not a bad idea,” Lily commented. “Of course, her sitter must be another Stand user.”

“They can’t be against us, either,” Kakyoin added. “So someone we know and trust, for sure.”

“And their Stand helping them take care of a kid is a big plus, too,” Lily finished. Both of them looked at each other. They knew exactly who to ask.

***

“Josuke!” Tomoko yelled. “Get the door, would you?”

“I got it!” Josuke yelled back. He looked through the doorhole, and saw two, no, three familiar faces.

“Mr. Kakyoin, Mrs. Lily, Emily, hi!” he said. “What brings you here?”

“Well,” Lily rubbed behind her neck, “we have a job for you. A job that we’ll pay you for, of course, and one you can turn down if you don’t want to do it.”

“We need a babysitter for Emily,” Kakyoin finished. “We chose you because you meet all of our requirements, as well as meet some extra criteria, but we can choose someone else if you don’t want to.”

“It won’t start today, so feel free to think about it,” Lily added.

“I’d be happy to!” Josuke immediately responded.

“Really?” Kakyoin’s eyes widened. “You made the decision just like that?”

“Well, yeah, I mean, Emily’s the cutest thing, who wouldn’t want to spend the afternoon with her? Plus, me and her get along really well, and I can fix anything she breaks. What could go wrong?”

Kakyoin and Lily looked each other in the eye.

“Well, if you’re really sure, then your first day is tomorrow,” Lily told Josuke. “See you then!”

“Bye!” Josuke called. Tomorrow was going to be the best day ever.

[solacefruit]

Hello! This is the person who wrote the one shots on Quotev — the one that anon went through so much trouble to get sent your way. If you’d be willing, I would appreciate genuine critique of my work — I’m genuinely looking for how I might improve my writing, and I haven’t been getting very much feedback. Apologies if you’re too busy or if this bothers you!

Hello there! I’m willing to give you my thoughts on your work, since you’ve asked so politely and gone to such effort, but before I do that, I’d like to preface everything by saying that I’m going to approach this answer more or less the same way I would give feedback to students in a class. I think that’s most helpful. I also hope none of this feedback comes off as harsh or hurtful, because that’s not at all my intention. 

You clearly know how to write well: your work is well-edited, with only a few errors here and there (be careful using semicolons, they can be very tricky). It’s clear you know the rules of writing, so I don’t think you’ve got a lot of room for improvement there. 

The stories themselves, though, didn’t click for me as a reader. I didn’t get pulled into the world you’ve created and I didn’t connect with your characters. That doesn’t mean that what you’ve done is bad, though! But I am going to suggest some ideas for restructuring your work that might help make your stories more dynamic and effective in capturing and retaining your reader, or showing off your skills and ideas to better effect. 

Your first story begins with the description of the character in a lot of depth, but I cannot recommend this as an opening paragraph. If you’re ever writing a manuscript, you need to remember that your first page is your first–and often only–chance to hook your reader and convince them to keep going. (Especially true if you’re sending your work to a publisher!) Because of that, a lot of good stories begin with first page or two that does everything it can to tell you who, what, where, and the tone of the book. 

Very few good stories start with the “I have black hair and blue eyes and today I am wearing a big hat” type character description, unless that is actually important–i.e., The Little White Horse begins with Maria detailing to herself what she’s wearing, because she’s vain and it brings her comfort to know she looks beautiful, which matters because… [and then the plot begins]; the first Harry Potter book describes the Dursleys in very Dahl-esque fashion, which matters because… [contrast them to the peculiar happenings of the plot emerging]. What your character does is almost always more interesting than what they look like, so it’s often a sensible idea to prioritise your narration accordingly. Both of the above examples tell you who, the tone of the story, and then what is happening, while filling in other details so you know where and when by the end of the first chapter.  

Something else I noticed in your work is that you’re a keen world-builder with a lot of ideas, but I found your stories to be a little overwhelmed by that, rather than enriched by it. This is something I’ve seen a lot in young creative writers, so it’s definitely not you and it’s not actually a fault, exactly–but it can detract from your work and make your work actually less inviting to read, rather than more, and that’s something that’s important for speculative fiction writers to be aware of. I’m currently working on a series of tips and tricks requested by popular demand, so I’ll probably elaborate more on this later, but basically, your world-building should be an iceberg: you know how immense it is, but your reader will only see a small delicious fragment of it. 

Oversupplying world-building details often makes works impenetrable or–most commonly–overshadows the characters and plot and sinks interest in the ship story. (For me, the most egregious example that jumps to mind is Foundling by D.M. Cornish but that’s a rant for another day). Your work isn’t too overcrowded, I feel, but for me, I got the sense that you used your stories as vessels for your world-building, instead of using your world-building to decorate and deepen your stories. The reason this causes problems is because people–myself included–are most often motivated to read because they relate, connect to, or are curious about characters, rather than a world. (Worlds are very fun, don’t get me wrong! It’s just that world-building tends to be most fun for the people doing it, not the people reading it). 

Finally, something I wanted to bring to your attention is style, and particularly streamlining it and leaning into your own voice. At the moment, your work is a little heavy with what I think of as “fanfiction-itis” for lack of a better concept. It’s basically an overall tendency to 1. be uncertain about what person the story is told in, or jump between views. This can be a choice! But it’s one you should be making consciously. There’s first-, second-, and third-person, but in third-person, there’s also an omniscient narration and limited narration. Each can be used to huge effect–but you need to pick the right one for the story you’re telling and stick to it. 2. over-rely on epithets and character description. Often this is a result of the above when it’s third-person omniscient. As a rule of thumb, you don’t really need to use epithets much at all. “The taller boy,” “the blonde girl,” and so on doesn’t add anything, but it does often distract and make the writing look a bit… juvenile to experienced writers. Unless the description is saying something about the character that’s worth knowing, it’s usually best not to bother with it. “The black-furred warrior walked by” says a lot less than “Blackfur stalked past, scowling.” 

3. use unnecessary or tautological dialogue tags. I’ve seen a lot of “said is dead” passed around on this site, and that’s great advice to follow if you want your work to be unenjoyable and annoying to read. Said is the most useful dialogue tag, because it is invisible to us, and many other “common” tags are likewise useful–things like asked, or replied. You only need to use a different and noticeable dialogue tag when it changes the dialogue in a meaningful way. For example:  i. “what did you do?” he queried. ii. “what did you do?” he asked. iii. “what did you do? he asked cautiously. iv. “what did you do?” v. “what did you do?” he said, but he was looking away, distracted. The first one’s dialogue tag is useless and clunky: we know he asked a question, there’s a question mark there, but unlike “asked,” queried really stands out and can break the flow of reading. The second one is unobtrusive, but doesn’t tell us anything about the tone of his question: he could be angry, purely curious, scared, who knows! The third one tells us his tone, but be careful not to overuse adverbs–that’s J.K. Rowling’s curse. The fourth tells us that, whatever he’s asking about, he’s worked up about it and it’s probably not great! The fifth is an example of how you can actually turn dialogue tags into full sentences sometimes. By being precise with your dialogue tags, you can make your dialogue really pop, and also not distract your reader. 

4. tell, rather than show. We’ve all heard “show, don’t tell” as writing advice, but there are actually a lot of times when “telling” is perfectly fine. However, broadly speaking, characters tend to feel more alive if you make them act out their personalities, rather than recount them to your reader. If someone has a big personality, you don’t need to say it: it’ll become abundantly clear from their actions soon enough!

By being aware of these things and making conscious choices–even if your conscious choices are to keep doing these things!–your strength and skill in storytelling will improve. It looks to me that you’ve gotten to the point where now you have to hone the talent you already have, which means that being precise and self-reflective about your writing style and choices is probably going to be the best course for you to improve going forward.

I hope this is helpful to you! I want to stress that all of this advice is offered in a “take what is useful to you, leave the rest” spirit. For every piece of writing advice, there’s excellent writing that contradicts it, so honestly a lot of good writing is just knowing when to follow advice and when not to, when to follow a rule and when to break it. Good luck with all your future work!

[cookinguptales]

I've a small query (if it doesn't float your boat, no worries!) I was interested in how you got into learning languages, what led you to it? I've become curious since learning a new language as an adult has only increased my awe of multilingual folk (additionally, I vaguely remember a post about a request in exchange for a donation to charity, and wondered if there were any you'd like a donation to)

First of all, good luck with the language learning! It’s not easy as an adult, but I do think it’s worth it, both in terms of cultural fluency and brain elasticity.

My answer to the language thing is actually extremely complicated, so I’ll be putting it under the cut. I’ll put the charity stuff above the cut so more people can see it.

— I’d just like to warn you, though, before I start, that I have been locked in this house for over a month with no respite and I HAVE A LOT OF WORDS AND FEELINGS IN ME SO THIS POST HAS SO MANY OF BOTH OF THOSE THINGS!!

anyway

There are so many charities that I want to donate to now that it honestly makes my head spin. Every time I look at a site like GoFundMe it kind of makes me want to cry. So a lot of donations I’ve made have been to like local businesses, restaurants, etc. who will close down without help. (Also a lot of local native groups, who are disproportionately suffering right now.) I’ve also been donating to various food banks — Philabundance, a Philly-centric charity that deals with food insecurity in general, is a good one. That was a regular of mine even before the outbreak. I’ve also donated to a lot of the local services in the small town where I’m in now, though you’ll need to PM me if you want the name of that. (It’s… very small.) 

Off Their Plate is another great charity that’s been working with small restaurants (who can’t open for business) to get food to first responders. They’re partnered with World Central Kitchen, which is another fantastic charity that helps out during disasters. Plus well-known ones like Feeding America, No Kid Hungry (important while school is out and kids aren’t getting breakfast/lunch there), Direct Relief, etc.

(I uhhh may have overstrained my charity budget the past couple months. It’s odd how that adds to stress and relieves it at the same time.)

I tend to avoid religious charities, especially Salvation Army, because they’re occasionally discriminatory in how they distribute resources and we no longer have laws & oversight to make sure they don’t do shady shit. So I just avoid them in general now. I also avoid the American Red Cross because they’ve been known to misuse funds. Research is key!

I also worry about some of my regular charities, like Immigration Equality & Rainbow Railroad (helps LGBTQ people in dangerous countries immigrate to less dangerous ones), the Native American Rights Fund, various local abortion funds, RAICES (provides legal services to immigrants & refugees), the ACLU, Dysautonomia International, the Rainforest Action Network, etc… A lot of them are getting fewer donations than they’re used to because we’re in the middle of such life-shattering events.

If you are really interested in making a donation (please, please, please do) those are all good options. I also fully recommend looking up needy organizations, services, people, etc. in your own area. I try to donate to a healthy mixture of national/international organizations, local needs, and temporary issues du jour. (Disaster relief, bail funds for protesters, fighting new discriminatory laws, etc.) I would genuinely appreciate any donations, especially if you find a cause near and dear to your heart that I would never even hear about. Anything along these same lines, y’know? If you have anything you’d like me to do in return, just hmu.

I constantly stress about who to donate to — there are so many good organizations and so few dollars to give them — but at a certain point, every dollar to a cause you believe in counts. Every dollar you donate helps to make the world a little bit better for at least one person. That’s what I have to tell myself to calm myself down, haha. So even the smallest donation you make to any of these groups would mean a lot to me.

Anyway, onto the language stuff:

For me personally, I grew up bilingual. Deafness runs in my family, so I learned sign language from a very young age. Note: I say “sign language” rather than ASL. I learned sign language kind of organically, which ended up making a mess later in life. My parents mostly taught me, but so did my daycare (at a deaf school) and so did my babysitters and so did other family members, etc. The point is, not all of them used the same sign language. There was a wide mixture of ASL, SEE, and home signs and my current signing style is… problematic. lmao. My family all understands it (hey, they taught it to me) and I can have conversations with American sign language users, but I know they can’t love my signing lmao. I’ve considered sitting down and taking a legit ASL class for years, but there are so many classes I want to take… I don’t know.

After that, it largely became a case of taking languages whenever they were made available to me. I’ve always liked them. We moved around a lot when I was a preteen so I went to a lot of different schools. (4th, 5th, 6th, 7th, and 8th grade were all different schools.) It was rough at home and hard to make friends so I guess I threw myself into academics a lot. My sixth grade school was an odd one; it was a 6-8 grade school and you were supposed to take a crash course in three different languages in sixth grade so you could choose one and take it in 7th and 8th grade. I ended up taking Spanish, French, and German that year. I liked French best! But then we moved so it was kind of moot. (And I hated German, sorry Germans. My mouth doesn’t like the noises. It didn’t help that my teacher was weirdly sympathetic to Nazi-era Germany…? But I guess that’s another post.)

When we moved to Florida, you had to have special permission to take language classes in 7th grade. (FL doesn’t have great academics.) But since I’d already had some Spanish in NC, they let me take it! And then I moved schools again. This new school, my 8th grade school, I’d be in until I graduated 12th grade years later — but the employee turnover at that school was almost comedically bad?  I took Spanish for like a year and a half there and had three different teachers. So at this point I’d had 5 different Spanish teachers, all from different countries (where they spoke slightly different Spanish!), all reteaching the same ideas over and over again because they didn’t know where the last teacher had left off. In the end, my last Spanish teacher sent me to the school library with some textbooks because he felt like I was very good at languages and he couldn’t adequately teach me in the environment he’d been thrown into. (My high school was very terrible. So he was right.)

SO I SWITCHED TO FRENCH. I took French for 3-4 years in high school (can’t remember when I started) but the same shit started happening. By the last year, my French teacher had the French I, II, III, and IV students IN THE SAME CLASS and she just put the advanced students in small groups and had us do independent study. Sigh… Around this same time, I started three other languages. At this point, I was getting kind of accustomed to self-study so I applied for a Latin class in the Florida Virtual School and took a year of that. I also spent a summer studying at the University of Chicago when I was 16-17 and learned Middle Egyptian then. (Yes, I was an ancient cultures nerd even back then.)

The Japanese has always been an odd case. Like I said, my 8-12 education was fairly terrible. They had this thing where they used a computer program to teach kids math and the teacher kind of taught along? When I transferred to the school in the middle of 8th grade, the teacher didn’t know what to do with me so he just plopped me in front of a computer and told me to do as much as I could. They started me in… Pre-Algebra, I think? Which I’d already taken in sixth grade. So I ended up getting through Pre-Algebra, Geometry, Algebra, and Algebra II, which… wasn’t in the teacher’s plans. I’d kind of finished several years of math in like a quarter. And then they didn’t have any more classes. So he just told me to like. Sit quietly and amuse myself for the last few months of school?? (Terrible, terrible school.) So I went to the library and found a book about Japanese and started teaching myself that. I really, really liked Japanese! Like it’s a language that just clicks really well with the way my brain works, I think. It’s very logical, I like the syllabary, etc. And I think growing up signing helped me with pictographic languages like Middle Egyptian and Japanese. My brain easily connects visual symbols with concepts.

When I went to college, the plan was honestly to learn more Egyptian and start translating, and I kept taking French to help me read old research in various ancient study fields. I ended up transferring out of the NELC major, though, due to some ethical problems… I guess that’s another post. Several years into my RELS/FOLK degree I went to my parents like. Look. I love learning this stuff but none of it’s useful. Remember how much I loved Japanese? Can I go back to learning that? I could translate that and that’s a legit skill. So I applied to a program through my school and studied in Japan for a while and ended up really doubling down on that language. Weird how I came back to it years later, but I guess it was always the one I loved best.

I have a mind that’s very pattern-based, so I guess I’ve always loved learning languages and the patterns behind them. (This may be why languages with a lot of rule exceptions, like French, irritate me.) They’re like puzzles that I’ve always enjoyed teasing out. Unfortunately, the way my education bounced around meant that I never got a good grounding in most of those languages, so I’ve largely lost them. I can still read French fairly well and my Japanese is good… My Spanish is like. Enough to get me around in the southern US. My German is abysmal. I remember very little Latin & Middle Egyptian. (It’s been over 10 years, I guess.)

So I guess what I feel the need to say to you is that if you don’t use it, you will lose it. I did well in all my language classes. They’ve always been fairly easy for me. Like. Straight As, no problem. I don’t say this to brag. I say it so you know that even for someone like me, whose brain is fairly well-wired for languages, it’s very, very difficult to retain languages when you’re not using them. If you’re not used to taking languages or you started late in life, it’s even harder. So even on the days you don’t want to practice! You gotta practice! Ganbare! Bon chance!

[crimsonrae]

Across the Road, At the Brothel

Chapter Three

Summary: Jaskier fell in love any day that the sun rose in the East. It was a trifling, pleasurable experience for him. Even when he was jumping out a window to avoid cuckolded husbands. So what happens when his trifles start to become more significant? Jaskier/OC. Some Yennefer/Geralt

A/N: Jaskier is just too adorable not to write about. This is a relationship development story with an OC. There will be smut in later chapters and plenty of angst.

Rating: Mature

Dithering Darkness"You are a very hard person to track down."

Lyrra held in a huff of exasperation as an all too familiar voice greeted her. She had taken less than a step into the Rose and Pine before being accosted. Wearily, she turned around to see Jaskier lounging against the wall with a pint in hand. His expression smug as if he were a cat that had just caught the bird. It was as annoying as it was endearing. She arched a brow at him before continuing for the kitchens, "Apparently not hard enough."

Heavier footsteps followed her.

"Don't you want to know why I was looking for you?" Jaskier queried expectantly.

"Not really." Lyrra responded glibly and came to an abrupt stop, Jaskier barely kept himself from crashing into her as she turned to give him a pointed look. He blinked confused before realizing they were at the threshold for the tavern's kitchen. She smiled as he frowned at her, "I have a feeling you're going to tell me anyway."

She stepped over the threshold and immediately turned left passing through the curtained door of a small pantry. She left her spare clothes on a shelf near the bottom. Unconsciously, she began to undress before remembering her handsome stalker. She eyed the curtain warily before letting her dress drop to the floor. An audible inhale reached her ears and she bit the inside of her cheek but refused to acknowledge the thrill that tore through her veins at the sound, "I swear, Bard, if you're looking..."

"Oh relax. The curtain stops at your lovely calves which are covered by boots sadly. I simply wasn't expecting you to disrobe... Though, do you really have to wear that dreadful frock?"

Lyrra rolled her eyes, "Yes, I have only two dresses, Jaskier, and I do not want them ruined by sloshed ale or food remnants. Not to mention men don't seem to notice me as much in this frock."

Jaskier snorted faintly, "Trust me, you're still noticeable."

"You're impossible."

"Thank you."

Lyrra shook her head ruefully as she finished donning her dress and apron. This would be Jaskier's fourth night performing at the Rose and Pine and he had done wonders in bringing the locals and the few travelers Glynedol had inside for some entertainment. To be fair, the lack of merchants had most in the town starved for news and stories from other regions and the bard had those in spades it seemed. She had been kept busy by the crowds, but somehow, someway when she had a spare minute to breathe, Jaskier always managed to appear at her side. Much to her relief, he had stopped with his more flowery comments. Instead, she was partied to his more jocular observations, usually about the Rose's audience or the town, sometimes about his companion, almost never about himself. At least nothing personal that couldn't be gleaned by a few moments in his presence, but in fairness, he never asked her anything terribly personal either. She was grateful for that...

She snatched her scarf and began wrapping it around her head as she stepped out of the pantry. Jaskier watched her practiced movements with keen eyes, "Let me guess, my headscarf bothers you too."

He grinned impishly, "Everything you wear bothers me, but I doubt you'll alleviate my pain by disrobing again."

Lyrra flushed, knowing that was exactly what he had been hoping for by the way his eyes danced. Incorrigible flirt was what he was – and if he hadn't also shown signs of being astonishingly sweet then Lyrra wouldn't have put up with his attentions, "You know where the brothel is."

"And subject myself to Madam Hatchet." Jaskier replied with a raised brow, "No, thank you."

Lyrra sent him a disapproving look at the harsh description of the Le Fleur's owner, "Madam Tyssa is actually rather kind. Just because she hasn't aged well, doesn't mean she deserves those comments."

Far from being chastised, Jaskier gave her a pointed look as he recalled his one and only trip inside the brothel, "Oh yes, that's why you had to pay her to look after your drunken friend now, was it? Did that from the deep caverns of her heart, I'm sure."

Lyrra's grey orbs widened slightly, not realizing that Jaskier had seen the exchange of money – even if he was wrong about the cause for the payment, "That coin wasn't for Nigel, but for a different service. Is there -"

His finger shot up as he realized she was about to change the subject; an expression of pure curiosity painted his face. Lyrra nearly groaned as she saw the cogs turning in his head as he interrupted her, "Whoa -ho, hang on a minute. You are not honestly going to just glide past that particular comment. What services did you require from a brothel?"

"None of your business." Lyrra retorted lightly as she fought back a smile. His azure gaze outright gleamed with entertainment and it was hard not to be pulled in by his infectious emotions, "I have work to do."

"Oh please, tell me it was something utterly scandalous and naughty with one of those skimpily clad women." Jaskier pressed, not the least bit dissuaded as she walked away from him. "Don't tell me it was Madam Hatchet."

Lyrra shook her head in amusement, "Absolutely impossible. You're ridiculous."

"A man can dream and this one will." He sounded entirely too satisfied as he trailed after her.

It was early afternoon, far earlier than she usually came in and if Lyrra was being honest she had arrived early to see if Jaskier was about. As much as she didn't want to encourage him, her life was a little less dull when he was around. As it stood, there weren't many people to serve yet. Mirel, for once, was doing her job and serving the customers and Hillard was overseeing preparations in the kitchen. The only thing she could do was wipe down tables, "I thought you had something to tell me?"

Jaskier blinked for a moment before remembering his earlier words to her, "And I thought you didn't want to know."

Lyrra raised a disbelieving brow but refrained from comment as she grabbed a rag from behind the bar. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that Jaskier did not care for silences. He filled the void with words and songs, half of it was nonsense – but, she figured if Jaskier ever found himself in a position to be tortured, the torturer wouldn't need to do much, just remain silent and the bard would either spill everything or talk the man in circles. True to form, Jaskier fidgeted and began talking again, "Not so much something to tell you, but ask."

Lyrra paused in her movements. The old rag trapped between her hand and the bar as she turned an awaiting gaze in his direction. He fidgeted again, "I hear tell that sometimes you act as a laundress in this fair town for some extra coin."

There was a beat of silence.

"You want me to wash your clothes." She stated bluntly, but then took the time to actually study him. He was clean, hair swept to the side even as an errant tendril fell over his forehead. His doublet was a little mused, but not terribly dirty – then she noticed the lack of a white-collar that usually peaked out from his doublet. Surprisingly, he kept still under her evaluation– a sheepish smile twitching at the corners of his lips as she stated more than asked, "You're not wearing a shirt, are you?"

"Uh, well no..." Jaskier answered as he rocked back on his heels, "I haven't been able to find the innkeeper since taking my room, otherwise I'd ask him about such services. I'd pay you, of course."

Lyrra frowned briefly at the comment. Owain, the innkeeper, was a regular of the Rose and Pine, it was unlike him to neglect his guests. Actually, now that she thought of it, he hadn't been in for a few days. Concern churned her gut but she masked it with a faint smile, "If you have it all together, I can stop by your room after I'm done here tonight and pick it up and drop it by tomorrow once it's done."

Jaskier sighed in relief, "Thank the gods. You are a star in the dithering blackness. Your name-"

"It's still going to be four crowns, Jaskier." Lyrra cut his flattery tirade off dryly as she resumed wiping the bar.

"Four crowns! Now, hold on – the other barmaid said you charge two!" Jaskier protested, his mouth turning into an incredulous frown.

Lyrra shrugged and reached across the bar to tug at the sleeve of his doublet, "Most of the townsfolk wear light cottons and wools. Quick and easy to wash. You're wearing silks and velvets which require more care. Unless you want your clothes ruined then I can do a basic wash."

He didn't know that she usually charged the locals only a few coppers or an exchange of food for this service. Travelers were charged two crowns as Mirel had told him. She would charge three for the fancier fabrics, but she had seen the amount of coin that Jaskier had pulled and knew he could well afford more than four crowns.

"No..." He drawled sulkily as he eyed her suspiciously, "Highway robbery is what this is. Four crowns for a bloody washing, now who's being ridiculous."

Lyrra snickered quietly and bestowed him with a smug grin, "Still you."

»»————-　　————-««

It wasn't until Lyrra was standing outside the inn that she realized the mistake she had made. Jaskier had only performed a few songs that night, much preferring to mingle with a few of the new travelers, swapping stories and news from other regions. He had also spent a good deal of time by himself, scribbling in a little journal he carried. It was the only time she had seen him so... quiet. As a result, he had been by her side within moments after she had finished her rounds for the night. Hillard had promised to take care of the last few patrons hanging around the pub.

Now, she eyed the bard carefully as they made their way inside. He hadn't done more than give her a passing smile since they had left. No quips about coming to his room, or flirtatious comments about staying for a bit. She found it odd. After all, he hadn't really missed an opportunity the past few days to play the role of the charming scoundrel.

"Are you okay?" Lyrra questioned quietly, not sure if she wanted to disturb the unusual passivity she was observing.

Jaskier blinked for a moment, as if remembering she was there, before smiling reassuringly, "I'm fine. Just tired I suppose." He stopped before a door and drew a key from his pocket. He paused, "Wait here, I need to change."

She quirked a brow, once again struck by the lack of innuendo. He stepped inside, but just as the door was about to close, he caught it and flashed her a small grin, "Unless of course, you'd like to join me."

Lyrra nearly sighed in relief at that comment, even as she shook her head at him, "Jaskier."

"Didn't think so." He stated mournfully and let the door shut.

She covered her face as she snorted in amusement. He truly was ridiculous.

And quick.

Lyrra didn't have to wait long at all before, Jaskier was pulling the door open again. He had on a loose white linen shirt that looked a size too big for him and a pair of brown cotton breeches that had seen better days and strangely looked a little tight on him. She tilted her head curiously as she studied him, "Are those even your clothes?"

Jaskier glanced up at her as he sat on the edge of his bed. His hands were already tugging his boots back on as he shrugged, "The shirts not, but my trousers are. Why? Do they not look like something I'd wear? I know they're a little plainer than what you've seen me in -"

"They don't fit." Lyrra cut in as she purposefully kept her gaze on his face and not his too-tight breeches.

Jaskier paused in consideration before making a face that said, 'that's fair'. He finished lacing his boots and grabbed his knapsack filled with his dirty clothes. He had only discovered that morning how vastly disgusting his wardrobe had become. He nearly cursed the last laundress, before remembering it had been several weeks since he had last seen a laundress, "Alright, let's go."

"Go?" Lyrra intoned lowly as she held out a hand for his bag, "I do believe you're at your room – unless you intend to go back to the brothel in which case, by all means. Just pass me your bag first."

"Uh, no." It was a strange battle of wills as Jaskier crossed his arms and met her stare head-on. While she was becoming annoyed, he was amused, "It's late and I told your barkeep I would see you safely home tonight. Apparently, that's something he does quite often. Now, you wouldn't want to make me break my word, would you?"

Lyrra blinked, this was the second time he had alluded to asking after her and she wasn't sure how she felt about it. She frowned, "I won't tell, if you don't."

"I will. Bard, remember." He replied joyfully before snagging her still outstretched hand and pulling her out the door, "Now, where to?"

"Jaskier." Lyrra huffed exasperated and tried to reach up and pull the strap of his bag from his shoulder.

He dodged out of her way with a laugh, "No, that's my name, not a direction. Think of it this way, you now know where I'm staying – it's only fair I get to see where you live."

Lyrra rolled her eyes and turned to stomp away from, "Are you always this annoyingly stubborn?"

"Ha, that's a laugh coming from you. Pot and kettle, darling."

He was unscathed by the glower she sent in his direction. Despite her reluctant mien, if she had been truly aggrieved by his presence, he would have left her in Hillard's capable hands. Though, he had the feeling she wouldn't take too kindly to the implication that she needed protection. Most of their trip was spent bickering, it was only when they left the edges of Glynedol that Lyrra's pace began to slow and Jaskier took notice of their surroundings.

"I didn't realize you lived so far from town." Jaskier murmured as they approached a dirt path.

Lyrra hummed and gave him a pointed glance, "You've seen for yourself that Glynedol isn't exactly a bustling metropolis. Most of us live on the edges or on farms. My home is not too much further. Just to the end of this path."

Tall grassy fields lined either side of their walk and Jaskier could spot patches of yellow mustard flowers, even in the dark. Ahead a large oak tree caught his attention, Lyrra watched as he took in the rope dangling listlessly from the branches, "They haven't removed it from the last hanging."

Jaskier blanched and turned wide eyes on her, "What?"

"It was a real shame." She murmured quietly; her gaze solemn. Jaskier's mouth moved soundlessly as he tried to find what words he wanted to ask first. Lyrra turned to him, "If only he hadn't pestered the local barmaid so much."

Jaskier's gaze narrowed and Lyrra burst into a fit of laughter, unable to keep a straight face any longer, "It's just a swing, Jaskier."

As if to prove her words, she jogged forward and stepped onto the wooden plank that acted as a seat. He hadn't noticed it before, but now he dropped his sack against the tree trunk and gave the ropes a slight pull, casting her forward, "You are absolutely a terror. I bet you were a terror as a child."

She smiled impishly at him, "Could say the same of you, I bet."

"More like terrified, than terror." Jaskier muttered sardonically. He surprised her when the swing came towards him again and instead of giving a slight push to the ropes, he stepped onto the plank with her. His foot sandwiched between hers, his hands gripping the rope just above her fingers as they continued to swing lazily. He smiled roguishly, "Hello."

"Hello." Lyrra had muffled her gasp at having him so close and found her voice to be a little breathier than she had intended. Heat began to fill her cheeks and she tried to find the strength to let go of the rope and step away, but she was caught. Made immobile by curious sparkling blue eyes and a smile so gentle, that she wondered if he knew what she was thinking.

It didn't matter, as Jaskier leaned forward and tentatively brushed his lips against hers. When Lyrra didn't rebuke him, he pressed forward and claimed a true kiss. Her eyes fluttered shut and she hummed softly at the lush feel of his lips. This was good... it felt right and that surprised her enough to draw back slightly.

Jaskier didn't seem to notice her sudden hesitation as he rested his head against hers, "I have been waiting four days to do that."

Lyrra smiled even as she stated, "I'm not sleeping with you."

"Don't ruin the moment."

He wrapped an arm around her waist and stepped back to the ground. His other hand dove into her thick locks as soon as they were settled safely and he stole another kiss. This one deeper, more passionate and Lyrra found her hands smoothing a path across his taut stomach as she became lost in his touch. He tasted of ale and mint, and he felt solid and strong... safe.

She groaned as he pulled away and turned his attentions to her neck, "Jaskier, we should stop."

He pressed a lingering kiss at the corner of her jaw and eyed her carefully, "Hearing you moan my name like that is absolutely delicious. Now you just need to change the ones that follow..."

"Jaskier." She breathed a laugh.

"Yes, just like that." He grinned and claimed her lips again.

She wasn't sure how long they stood like that, simply kissing. It could have been a few minutes or an hour, she knew she didn't want to stop, even as a little voice in the back of her head reminded her of the late hour. Reluctantly, she pulled away from him and he sighed in acceptance.

She grabbed his bag before he had a chance to and turned with crossed arms. It was her barrier, feeble as it was, "It's probably best if I continue on from here and you head back."

"Hmm." He hummed, not inclined to agree as he mimicked her position, "Only if I can have one last taste of your sweet lips."

Lyrra hesitated, suspicious, "And you'll go?"

He nodded benignly.

Taking a breath, she stepped forward and pull his head down to meet hers – this time she was the one claiming the kiss as he pulled her into his body. Silky, her thoughts offered faintly as her fingers entwined his hair. Dimly, she was aware of the strap to his bag falling to her wrist as she clenched at his shirt. It only took a faint nip and a gasp on her part, before she realized that the strap hadn't so much as fallen, as Jaskier had maneuvered it onto his shoulder. She peered at him thru mockingly narrowed eyes, "Sneak."

He grinned smugly, "Well you did say, I had a future as a thief." He grabbed her hand before she had a chance to take the bag back and turned her back towards the path, "Lead on, Lyrra."

They hadn't made twenty steps when Lyrra broke away from him with a gasp, "Oh my..."

He frowned and followed her into the fields, not seeing what had her attention until he looked down. Lying on the ground was the large form of a wounded man. The undeniable shock of white hair was all Jaskier needed to see to know who he was staring at. Geralt lay face down, blood seeped from his neck and back. Lyrra quickly pulled her scarf from her pocket to try and stem the flow. She looked up panicked as Jaskier muttered, "Bollocks."

Previous Chapter       Next Chapter

[rewrite-canon]

Fifteen Minutes

Monster Prom // No Pairings // 2609 Words // Lyrics by Mike Krol

“What if I told you that the world was gonna end? And you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends?” Vicky sings, bobbing her head to the tune that seemed to be playing in her head.

“What lame shit are you singing now?” Damien demanded, flicking a finger at her.

“None of your business,” Vicky bristled. “Why do you care anyway?”

I sucked in a breath. Vicky was really pushing it now. I think she is the only one with balls low enough to question Damien. Besides me, obviously. Well, Vera and Brian were plenty badass for it too. But only because Vera had enough brain cells to manipulate the way she said it that it looked like she wasn’t confronting him, and also because Brian gave no fucks whatsoever about Damien’s chaotic behaviour. Even now, I shudder to think of some of the arguments Damien and Brian had had.

And speaking of the devil and his green mates, they were huddled together in a manner that only meant no good. Now, Damien had swivelled around to face Vicky, a sneer on his face. I was sure his eyes would flare in rage at her question (they were always somewhat flared with rage), but instead they narrowed and Damien just frowned.

“Because you're distracting me, Brian and Vera from devising a plan to ransack the new substitute’s office with horny epileptics from hell for when he starts looking at our attendance records,” Damien said, gesturing to Brian, who had looked up blankly, and Vera, who was wearing her trademark scowl.

I should've known. Damien had always had a weird soft spot for Vicky (and Oz and Scott, but everybody had a soft spot for Oz and Scott).

“And steal his things,” Vera added. “I heard ghouls were filthy rich.”

“Great,” Brian rolled his eyes sarcastically at her. “So you're just going to waltz into Mr Devido’s office whilst he's being assaulted by epileptic demons and take your time picking and choosing what's valuable enough for your standards, unaware? Great plan, Vera. I thought you were supposed to be a grand schemer.”

Meanwhile, Vicky went back to humming her little tune. Miranda, who was in the middle of braiding Liam’s hair as he was browsing his phone (a seemingly pure act, if you ignored the fact that he was reading erotic gay smut and she kept rambling on her father’s new murderous conquests), looked up at her and smiled warmly. She soon picked up the few words Vicky sang, and began to sing it too, Liam then unconsciously murmuring them too after a while.

“I am, you ungrateful toad,” Vera snapped in the meantime. “Would you be paying attention to anything else around you if you were being grinded on by demons having seizures?”

Brian seemed to mull it over, then he said, “You’ve got a point.”

Polly, who had her head laid in Oz’s lap (poor Oz was trying to do homework, and ignore the heinous acts his friends were planning to commit) and her feet were resting in Scott’s lap (Scott was just chewing on a football, only to stop, look up, and smile adorably at everybody) and was complaining loudly at how bored and sober she was, and how she hadn't got completely wasted in seven hours.

“Seven hours!” She cried out, either to Oz or Scott, but it might as well of been no one, because no one was really listening. “That's the longest I've ever been without drugs and adrenaline coursing through my undead body! Can you imagine? And it's because I'm hanging out with you borings fuckheads. I mean, I'm literally in the lap of somebody doing fucking homework. I haven't even said the word ‘homework’ in centuries. And I'm not even on Oz’s lap in a sexual way so what even is the fucking point–?”

“��And you had fifteen minutes to spend with me or your friends?”

<!— more —>

“What the fuck are you singing?!” Damien roared at Liam, who jerked in alarm, Miranda, who just grinned evilly, and Vicky, who just rolled her eyes at his drama. “It’s going to make me go insane!”

“More insane than you already are?” I prompted, not being able to help myself.

Damien’s scorching eyes turned to me, and I snickered. He’s so easy to piss off.

“Amira,” he growled at me, “tell Vicky and company to shut the fuck up. They respect you for some reason.”

“It’s because she has really fucking good music taste,” Polly answered for Damien. “Like, it’s seriously good.”

Everyone collectively nodded, and I blushed.

“Wow guys,” I said, feeling this was a good time to talk about Rex Orange County’s new album, “it’s not that–”

“What would you guys do if you had fifteen minutes left in life?” Scott blurted, a troubled (yet absolutely adorable) expression on his face.

“I'd probably try to fuck up the world even more,” Polly said immediately, grinning at the thought. “I think I'd try to burn down everything, spray some secret concoction to get people incredibly horny, watch them get at it as they're burning to death, and I plan to do this all while riding a donkey casually.”

“To be honest, I'd probably try to finish this first and foremost,” Liam said, holding up his phone. Then he smiled goofily. “This shit is good.”

“Would you spend it with me and friends?” Scott said, wide-eyed.

Polly and Liam looked at him, at his vulnerable face, and I knew what they were going to say before they said it.

“Of course!” Polly said enthusiastically. “Yeah, doing all that with you guys would make it even more rad!”

“Yeah,” Liam added, but then blushed in that cute, shy way. “But I don’t know how much you guys would love reading this with me.”

“I’d love doing everything with you both,” Scott grinned, his mood instantly picking up, as Polly choked at the statement. He then turned to look at Damien and Oz.

“How about you two?” Scott queried, and I laughed a bit about how Damien’s face scrunched up as he started to think about. No doubt he was using his maximum brain power.

“To be honest, I’m probably the one who is ending the world,” Damien remarked, and everyone started to nod their heads in agreement. “So, sorry about that in advance.”

“I’d probably have to finish this Monsters' History homework first,” Oz said, gesturing awkwardly at his essay he was writing out, “and then I’d probably straighten up all my debts and then–”

“Oh my Satan, Oz, shut it,” Damien said, massaging his temples, as if Oz’s statement caused him physical harm. “It makes me sad, that you would say that. And it also makes me impeccably annoyed with you. And now I feel hostile.”

“When do you not feel hostile, though?” Vicky and I said at the same time, and then we grin at each other and high five.

Damien glared at us, whilst Oz is quick to defuse the fire.

“Well, sorry Damien, but I'm just being honest,” he said quickly, drawing Damien’s attention to him (which is kinda ballsy, if I do say so myself). “But what I do know,” Oz continued bravely, under Damien's smouldering gaze, “is that I wouldn't mind ending the world with you, Damien.”

It's hilarious, seeing Damien’s naturally red face get even redder, and to see Oz realise what he just said and sputter innocently. Vera, however, is not pleased.

“Oh,” she said, sniffing in jealous offence (that takes me all the willpower I possessed not to burst into giggling fits, and I could see I wasn't the only one struggling there, because Polly was just barely keeping it down), “I see how it is. You would destroy the world with Damien, but not with me, Oz?”

“What? No! Of course I would want to do everything with you–” and then Oz’s voice died and Polly finally lost it, which made me burst as well, and the next thing you know Vicky was also giggling along with us. Even Brian seemed to be smirking.

Vera glared at us, which made Vicky and me shut up, and Brian just lost his amused expression naturally, but Polly was undeterred.

“For the record,” Damien said in a weird, insecure, shy tone that made him sound like an entirely different person. “I don't, you know, mind doing homework or whatever nerdy stuff with you, Oz.”

And now Brian was the one sputtering.

“Oh you fucking snot,” he spat, and both Damien and Oz flinched before they could get any more flustered (watching those two try to interact and connect was the funniest shit ever, everyone agreed). “So when I asked for you to hang out with me when I was doing my homework, do you remember what you told me? You told me to get fucked!”

Was it just me, or did Brian genuinely sound hurt? It must've not only been me, because Scott started to pout and put a gentle (albeit big and hairy) hand on Brian’s shoulder, which at least made Brian relax at his touch a bit (if anyone had the power of friendship at their fingertips, it was Scott). Even Liam looked up, vaguely distraught.

“That was only because you had Liam and Miranda over,” Damien, sniffing indignantly. “And if I went, I knew you wouldn't stop making heart eyes at Miranda, so I blew it off to commit tax fraud with Amira. But if you really wanted me to come, then you should've just, you should've just–”

Damien looked at a loss.

“Told him how you really felt?” Vicky prompted, and Damien snapped his fingers.

“Yes!” He exclaimed. “That.”

“What would you do then, Brian and Vera? If you had fifteen minutes?” Miranda asked this time, her eyes shining with curiosity.

“Spend all the millions I’ve earned to hire a gang and assassinate anyone who had ever crossed me,” Vera said without hesitating. “Then, I shall have them skinned and made into fabulous purses. And then I will sell those purses to earn me even more money, and use that to buy us all really expensive, furnished mansions, with servants and multicultural cuisines and everything, so we can live the rest of our lives in absolute luxury.”

Awww. That was actually quite adorable. Vera cares about our lifestyles too!

“And you plan to do this all in fifteen minutes?” Liam asked, deadpan.

“You'd be surprised at how efficient I am,” Vera sniffed, but I didn't think I'd actually be that surprised.

“Definitely not hang out with Damien,” Brian sniffed sourly after Vera had shared. “I guess try to finish off ransacking the new substitute’s office with horny epileptics with Vera. And then, I don't know. Relax and await my death.”

“Well, that's fucking depressing,” Polly murmured to me. “And I didn't know I was capable of getting depressed.”

I snorted. Was she still astounded about how somber Brian was?

“Wouldn't you still have to hang out with Damien to continue your plan with the horny epileptics, though?” Liam asked.

“Well, yeah, fine,” Brian said, not making eye contact with his demon friend (who was trying to make eye contact with him, and honestly, it was shocking how much Brian and Damien got into their own squabbles). “But I don't have to talk to him. That can be Vera’s job.”

“I'm not being your owl!” Vera hissed at him, and she actually hissed. Her small green snakes on her head did too, showing how much she detested the idea.

“What if you were paid?” Miranda queried, probably just out of curiosity, but Vera’s hissing ceased immediately.

Before Vera could discuss any specifics, Vicky butted in.

“I’ve thought about this one,” she said smugly, and no one was surprised. Number one, Vicky had thought about scenarios for everything. And number two, she probably would've thought of this before if she knew the song beforehand. “I would make it my life's goal to find the tastiest flavour of ice cream in all the dimensions! And once I find that ice cream, I will use a device that I would have Calculester make me, that clones the ice cream! And then I will bring all the ice cream back to this dimension and invite all of you guys over and we can eat the ice cream together!”

Everyone seemed to enjoy that idea, except one frowning ghost.

“Um, hello?” Polly asked, raising a hand and gesturing to herself. “Did you forget about me?”

“Of course not!” Vicky exclaimed emotionally. “Caculester is now working on a device that makes food into incorporeal substance that you can digest, Polly. Because, seriously, it breaks my heart that you can't eat. It really does.”

Polly seemed satisfied enough with that answer.

“How did you get Calculester to do that for you?” I ask.

Vicky winked. “Let's just say I turned on my unwavering charm to that library computer. And he didn't stand a chance.”

“If I had fifteen minutes left, I would want to be coronated,” Miaranda said, poshly. “I would invite you all to my coronation, of course. And then once I am mermaid queen I will throw an amazing national party for all of us to enjoy, whilst forcing my endless numbers of slaves to fight each other to the death for our entertainment! Oh, I can see it all coming together!”

Miranda’s expression turned dreamy, which was cute but also quite disturbing since she was thinking about bloodshed. Damien started to nod in approval, though. He seemed to like the idea. Bloody royals.

“I would want to take all of you to the park, where we can have a picnic, and hold hands, and give each other gifts to show how much we care for one another!” Scott said, his tail wagging happily. “And then we can sing songs and die happy with each other, knowing that we love us!”

Scott was so adorable, everyone looked misty-eyed. Vicky leapt up to wrap her arms around Scott, her affection for him seeming to be too overwhelming for her (Scott didn't complain, though). Brian was smiling, and seemed to forget about his brief argument with Damien, because now they were both grinning at each other. Liam was even beaming.

“Ew,” Vera finally said. “I can't believe you all liked that.” She pointed a finger at Scott. “Say that again and you will give me diabetes. I just hope you know that.”

But we all knew she secretly liked the sodding friendship story Scott came up with.

“What's diabetes?” Scott said, bushy eyebrows creasing.

“How about you, Amira?” Oz piped up, and all eyes were suddenly on me. “You haven't said what you would do.”

I mulled it over for a bit, but then spoke up without there being much mental contest.

“Probably make you all listen to the new Rex Orange County playlist,” I said, and Vicky and Damien sniggered.

“You're so predictable,” Vicky giggled.

“What can I say?” I shrug, breaking into a smile too. “My reputation precedes me.”

We all sit there in contented silence for a bit, just enjoying and treasuring one another.

“There's just one problem,” I said, drawing everyone's attention again. “How would we plan to do all of what we all want to do in fifteen minutes? Seems impossible.”

Brian started to smirk, and then Miranda started to smile, and soon Polly was also grinning.

“We’d figure it out,” Brian said. “I bet we would. We've already done so many impossible things in our weirdass lifetimes.”

I shared a smile with him.

“Yeah,” I said finally. “Fifteen minutes is nothing for us.”

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 25)

Partners Of Sorts

This is kind of an uneventful chapter, just a bunch of character interactions, but it needed to be there to explain certain things to reader, and to appreciate some of the other characters. I hope it hits a spot, though!

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

"Hey, Kieran. Can I borrow your brush again? The communal ones keep goin' walk-about."

I'd had a busy morning tending to the horses alongside Kieran; putting out fresh hay, cleaning up after them, maintaining the leather on everyone's saddle. We hadn't spoken much, I figured he was feeling awkward after catching a tender moment between Arthur and I the other morning, but when it came to brushing Rayna's dusty coat, the silence needed breaking. 

Kieran eyed me cautiously, then glanced over his shoulder into camp. I quirked a brow, closing the large gap between us and looking at him expectantly. 

"You ain't using it, are you?" I asked and he shook his head, hastily reaching into his bag and pulling out his brush, tossing it to me. I fumbled with it, but managed to catch it. "Thanks."

I walked back over to Rayna, making a start on brushing her down, starting at her neck. I glanced over at Kieran again, utterly puzzled by his behaviour. We never really chatted like good friends, but the silence was odd. At the very least, we'd throw back and forth mindless small talk about horses. I rather liked it. 

"How's Maggie doing? I heard Lenny say she got a little scratched up on some branches," I called out to him. 

"She's fine," he replied, leaving it at that. I let out a quiet breath and went back to tending to Rayna again for a while. 

"The dust in this place is so clingy, ain't it? You brush it off and it settles right back in," I chuckled, trying again. A small humming sound was all I heard, then he was walking off, going towards The Count, Dutch's horse, who happened to be the furthest away from me of the bunch. I couldn't help but screw my face up a little. What was his problem?

I carried on working, brushing out Rayna's coat, getting her looking nice and shiny before untangling her mane and the hair around her hooves. It took me a little while, and I figured I'd earned a break and a drink, so headed over to Kieran to hand him his brush. When he noticed me approaching I saw him mutter something under his breath, and turn his head away a little, looking towards camp once again. I frowned. 

"Here's your brush, Kieran. Thanks," I said, pushing it into his palm with more force than necessary. "Have I done something?"

"I'm sorry, Miss?" He looked back at me, eyes widening a little.

"Have I done something to offend you? You're barely answering me when I speak to you and you're acting all shady," I said, crossing my arms and cocking a hip. 

"No, no, not at all. You ain't done nothin'," he assured me, holding his hands out and looking around. 

"What? What is up with you, looking around like that?" I raised my voice a little out of frustration and he winced. 

"Shh, shh, I'm sorry, I ain't aiming to upset you, Miss, I'm just…" he stopped, sighing and gulping down his nerves. "I just ain't sure it's a good idea, me being seen being friendly with you, is all."

"Huh? Why? Never bothered you before, all we do is chat," I shrugged, perplexed, a little offended, even.

"No, I know, that was before I knew you and- and Mr. Morgan were…" he didn't finish his sentence, voice fizzling out to nothing. I stared at him for a moment, expression vacant.

"What're you going on about?"

"All I'm saying is, I don't wanna make him mad!" He explained, face apologetic, body all jumpy and on edge.

"By talking to me."

"Yes!"

"Huh…" I huffed, clicking my tongue and looking down at the ground. "You're scared of Arthur?" I asked incredulously.

"Yes! I- I- I mean, no, not scared, I don't know! He ain't exactly my best buddy," he shook his head, sighing heavily, starting to brush The Count.

I stared at him for a while, then tutted.

"I don't appreciate you acting like I can't have friends, just 'cause me and Arthur are… the way we are," I muttered. "I'm my own person, you know?"

"Of course, sure, I don't mean anything bad. I'm just trying not to push any of his buttons, you understand, right?" 

"Not really, Arthur's a nice guy, he ain't gonna hurt you," I said, gaining a disbelieving look. "What, you don't think that's the case?"

"I ain't saying anything," he shook his head and grumbled. 

"Relax, O'Driscoll," I snorted, patting him on the shoulder. His eyes widened and he looked at me.

"Oh, not you too," he whined.

"What?" I frowned.

"With the O'Driscoll bullcrap," he explained, "I thought you were better than that."

"But that's your surname, ain't it?" I queried, dumbfounded by his reaction. Everyone called him 'O'Driscoll', just like everyone referred to Arthur as 'Morgan', and John as 'Marston'. Surely.

"No! It ain't my damn surname. Duffy. Kieran Duffy!" He spat, getting all het up.

"Alright! I didn't know! How was I to know? Everyone just calls you that!" I exclaimed, huffing out in annoyance. "Sorry."

"You really don't know why everyone calls me that?" He gave me a look, like I was stupid or something, and I got defensive.

"You know I ain't been here all that long. What, am I supposed to know everyone's life story automatically?" 

"No, I just thought with you gettin' all snuggly with one of the head honchos 'round here, you'd know. The O'Driscolls is one of these folks' worst enemies. Another gang of outlaws. I ran with 'em for a while, well, more like got dragged along," he explained, stopping to take a drink from his canteen. 

"So what'chu doing here?" I asked him in surprise. 

"Your boyfriend captured me, brought me in. They all had me as some sort of prisoner, threatened to slice my nads off if I didn't lead 'em to Colm; the O'Driscoll leader. Long story short, I saved Arthur's hide and I've been staying with you folk ever since. Not like any of 'em wanna let me live it down, despite it all, though."

"You saved Arthur's life?" I breathed, looking at Kieran in a new light. He glanced at me, like it wasn't a big deal. 

"I guess. I shot a guy who was about to paint his porch with his brains. Don't get much thanks for it, though," he shrugged. 

"Well, thank you," I told him. He made a throaty, awkward sound and shook his head, turning away. "For what it's worth, I'll tell Arthur to be kinder to you."

"Oh God, don't. I don't need a woman fighting my battles for me. Uh, no offense. Not that you bein' a woman is–"

"Fine. I'll keep my mouth shut," I deadpanned, cutting off his bumbling sentence. "Thanks for filling me in, anyway."

"No problem," he shrugged. 

"And Kieran? You ain't gotta avoid me. So… don't," I told him and he stared at me for a while before nodding. I smiled at him, then left to pour myself a coffee.

It was just the dregs left over in the pot, so I emptied it out and refilled it, brewing a fresh batch. I poured myself a mug and spotted Miss Grimshaw sitting by herself at the table. I wandered over, gauging her mood before I committed. She was sitting with her forehead in her hands and I frowned, taking the seat opposite her.

"You okay, Miss Grimshaw?" I tentatively asked. She lifted her head promptly.

"Oh! Yes, just fine, thank you darlin'," she answered, but her forehead was pinched. "Well, headache. But I can manage."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Need me to fetch you some water?" 

"Bless you. No, I'm alright," she dismissed.

"Why don't you take your hair down? I find if I have mine up too long, I can get headaches," came my suggestion, to which she chuckled. 

"After I spent time this morning putting it up? No chance," she smiled at me and I shrugged softly, looking down into my mug. 

"Well then, if there's anything on your to-do list, let me know and I'll try and cross it off for you," I offered and she eyed me with suspicion. 

"Alright, what is this?"

"Hmm?"

"You about to ask me for somethin'?"

"What? No! I'm just being friendly. You ain't feeling well," I told her, brow curving in mild offense at the assumption. 

"Oh, well, alright then. When you've finished your coffee you can take a needle and thread to the boys' tent over there," she pointed over to the one closest to the campfire. "Micah put a hole in it last night, boozed up moron."

"Sure," I nodded, bringing my coffee to my lips. Susan glanced up over the top of my head at something and I heard footsteps. 

"Mr. Morgan," she nodded politely in time for him to walk up beside our table. 

"Susan," Arthur nodded back to her, then turned his attention on me. When our eyes met, he flashed me a little smile that reminded me of the night before and set my heart racing. ”My lady,” he addressed me, his tone a little playful. 

I smiled widely, letting my eyes follow him even after he'd peeled his gaze from me to look where he was going. My eyes dropped to his backside of their own accord, and I was momentarily mesmerised by the way his hips moved as he strolled across to his tent. When I finally looked away, I turned to Susan to find her staring at me, full of amusement. I cleared my throat and drank some coffee, averting my eyes.

"You know, you two ain't as sly as you think you are," she said.

I made a confused humming sound, suddenly feeling flustered. 

"You and Arthur. I've seen him staring at you from across the camp. I reckon you're just as bad, though I've caught him doing it many times, now," she informed me, and I gave her a wide eyed look. "Don't pretend you haven't noticed it."

"I haven't," I told her honestly and she gave a tinkly little laugh.

"Sitting together at meal times, spending nights alone together in old abandoned cabins, private little chats down by the lake. You don't think I was born yesterday, do you?" She questioned, and I merely stared at her with parted lips. "You two, you're gettin' to be like two peas in a pod. You'll end up sweet on one another, if it ain't already the case."

I looked down, pressing my lips together. 

"You are, aren't you? My, my, I wasn't sure if it'd happened yet but I knew it was gonna. How long have you been loved up?"

I took a breath, considered my options. Try to deny it; to Susan Grimshaw? Not likely a successful move. Change the subject? Fat chance. I exhaled loudly. 

"Not long," I finally said, and Susan made an excited little cheer, leaning over to pat my hand. 

"I knew it," she was very pleased with herself and I looked her in the eye.

"Can you keep it quiet? We don't want the whole camp knowing just yet. Not that we've been all that lucky with that," I murmured. 

"I ain't surprised," she laughed, "but I'll keep it to myself, don't you worry."

"Thanks, Miss Grimshaw," I said, smiling from across the table. 

"I know the girls gossip. They were practically putting bets on who was gonna end up winning you over," she began, looking distractedly over at where Mary-Beth and Tilly were sitting by the lake, both sewing. "I heard John's name. Arthur's, obviously. Micah."

"Micah," I muttered, shaking my head in bewilderment. 

"Even Javier's name came up."

"What? Christ, what do these women take me for? I spoke to Bill briefly this morning, what about him?" I snorted. 

"Oh, don't mind them. This is exciting to 'em, you forget the rest of us barely leave camp. Ain't sure how you've managed to weasel yourself into leaving all the time, workin' with the men," she said, though it wasn't in the least bit malicious. "Besides beddin' one of 'em."

My mouth opened, and I was momentarily stunned by her words. 

"I ain't bedded anyone, thank you very much," I crowed, loud enough that Pearson looked up from his hissing cauldron. I flushed and dipped my head. 

"You ain't got there yet?" She drawled, loving every moment of making me squirm.

Luckily, a knight in a top hat and an outfit that could rival Dutch's for tricking one into believing the man wearing it wasn't running from the law, appeared beside us to save me. Josiah Trelawny, I had seen the man around camp a few times since Arthur and Charles had gone and saved him from bounty hunters, he'd looked a little worse for wear when he first arrived but he'd sharpened up a lot. He greeted me, calling my name and taking my hand in his and giving it a squeeze as he asked me how I was. He was very charming.

"My dear, Dutch told me all about you this morning; regarding the way in which you work. I hear you're a woman of a little showmanship, not dissimilar to myself. I find it's always helpful to create a narrative, get into character, put on a bit of the old charm," he said to me, taking a seat at the table next to Susan and I. 

"I suppose you could say that," I chuckled.

"Yes, he had John tell me all about your little gemstone story, very nicely done, I must say. And your Jemima Jones performance? A woman after my own heart," he braced a hand on his chest and flashed me a handsome, moustachioed smile.

"Well, I'm better at playing pretend than I am waving a gun around, I gotta contribute in the ways I can," I shrugged my shoulders, flattered all the same. 

"My dear lady, I was considering going out and finding myself a little work today. Might you join me?" He asked and I raised my brows. 

"Oh, I mean, I have some chores here..." I told him, glancing at Susan who was rolling her fingers over her temples. I heard a loud sigh and heavy footfalls.

"Josiah, you ain't sinking your claws into her already, are you? What'chu planning? Send her into town dressed like the court jester, have her put on a show while you go through all the ladies' purses?" It was Arthur, of course. He hadn't strayed too far from me all day, aside from his short trip away from camp with Lenny. I'd heard they'd been out stealing guns.

"Arthur Morgan. Now here is a man of such limited creativity when it comes to these things. He could benefit from a little of our nature rubbing off onto him. Have the two of you worked together yet?"

"Not any big jobs," I admitted. 

"No, but I know she's good at spinning the yarn, could give Dutch a run for his money," Arthur laughed, then waved a hand at me. "Which is funny, 'cause she's all shy until you stick an alias on her and tell her to spout some bull."

I lifted my shoulders sheepishly. 

"I'd like to see you in action," Trelawny said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Both of you, together. See if we can't get Arthur showing a little finesse. What do you think?"

"Trelawny," Susan shot him a look, but he held his hand up to her in a polite pacification.

"I was thinking; a stagecoach," Trelawny added hopefully, looking between the three of us. 

"No, no, absolutely not," Arthur was quick to respond, holding his hands up and shaking his head. 

"I'm inclined to agree," Susan nodded.

"Why not?" Trelawny barked and I raised my brows. 

"Stagecoaches… they go sour more often than anything," Arthur explained, frowning.

"And did you not hear her? The lady has chores to do. I'm not having another feller start stealing her away, I need her here today," Susan put her foot down, shaking her head.

"Oh, my darling Susan. Can't you spare her for an hour or two? A friend of mine can tip us off, find us something guaranteed to be worth the hassle. We could even cut you in," Trelawny flashed a persuasive smile at her. Susan pursed her lips in thought, but Arthur was having none of it, coming to lean his hands on the table in front of us all.

"Worth the hassle or not, the drivers are always armed to the teeth if there's valuables on board," Arthur scoffed, shaking his head. "I'll rob a stage with you, Trelawny, but she ain't coming," he gestured to me and I frowned. 

"Have a little faith in the lady, won't you?" Trelawny sighed. 

"Faith. Ain't about faith, friend, I got plenty of faith in this woman right here. She's shown she's capable of pulling off a job but this… this ain't it. It goes wrong and bullets start flying? She ain't got no business being in the middle of all that," he shook his head and surprisingly, I didn't feel slighted by his unwillingness to have me along. I was not prepared to do anything that could involve bullets. 

"Well, that's a little dramatic, don't you think?" Trelawny huffed, cocking a brow at Arthur. 

"I ain't being dramatic, I'm being responsible."

"May I speak? Considering it's me you're all talking about," I cocked a brow, "I'm sorry Mr. Trelawny, I don't wanna risk having to use a gun, an' all I got's a rifle," I shook my head and Arthur looked at me, pleasantly surprised by my compliance. 

"That's what I thought. You're an excellent con-woman, but you ain't no killer," Arthur reached over and touched my arm, keeping his hand there and stroking it up and down. "I've robbed stages before, almost all of 'em turn into a bloodbath."

"Perhaps the way you do them, but fair enough, you've made your point. Come along, now, Arthur. We'll make do with the two of us. Let me introduce you to my good friend Alden," Trelawny said, waving his arms about as he rose to his feet and headed off towards his horse, expecting Arthur to follow. He looked a little disgruntled, but I was sure he'd get over it.

"Well then, I'm going to lie down for a little while," Susan said, getting up and gingerly hobbling off.

Arthur stayed with me for a moment and kept his eyes on me, a little concerned.

"I jus' wanna say, you know I ain't doubting you, or stopping you from doing this 'cause I think you can't handle it, right?" He said to me under his breath. 

"No, but I can't handle it," I chuckled good-naturedly. Arthur shook his head.

"I jus' know you ain't like me, I don't wanna force you into something that might push you to doing… doing the shit I do that I ain't proud of. You're better than that," he whispered, leaning a little closer into my space, seeming to forget our surroundings. "You're good, and I wanna keep you that way."

"You say that like you ain't good yourself," I pointed out and he looked down at the table. I knew he was thinking exactly that and I made a frustrated little sound before patting his chest. "I believe you're a good man. Now, back up. People will talk."

"They're already talking," he said, straightening up anyway. There was a little smile on his face. "Hosea knows, by the way, just came out and asked me this morning. Nothing gets past him, the man knows me too well."

"Miss Grimshaw, too," I breathed and Arthur tutted, shoulders dropping a little. 

"What's that, five, six people?"

"I ain't counting," I shrugged and laughed. He shook his head then brushed my cheek affectionately just once.

"I better not keep Trelawny waiting," he said. 

"Okay," I nodded, craving a kiss but knowing I wouldn't get one, sitting in the middle of camp. "Be careful."

"Of course," he smiled, then walked backwards a few steps before finally turning around and jogging towards Jet.

With a gentle sigh I got up. I had a tent to fix and chores to do, and they'd keep me busy for the rest of the day.

-

Arthur never told me he was going to rob Valentine's bank. I didn't find out until it was all done and dusted and Karen was riding back into camp looking well and truly exhilarated, waving a wad of cash around. The others joined soon after, Bill and Lenny, but Arthur was the last to return after a little while. I would've panicked if Strauss hadn't reassured me that he was probably running an errand for him. 

I didn't know why Arthur kept it quiet, and in fact, the more I thought about it the more I suspected that he'd gone out of his way to hide it from me. The whole day he'd kept me busy, giving me some money and asking me to go into Rhodes for him to pick up some things; mainly food for his horse, but also hair pomade, biscuits and gun oil. I'd done so without question, grabbing the opportunity to go into town since I'd been planning on it anyway. I bought myself a revolver while I was out with the money I'd saved from various jobs. I felt a little more secure with it hanging from my hip, since it just wasn't practical to carry around a rifle as my sole form of protection.

The day had seemed fairly ordinary when we woke up and had coffee together. He'd filled me in on how the stagecoach robbery had gone with Trelawny, and despite his worries it had gone off without any casualties. Still, he didn't regret having me stay away, these things were unpredictable. But then Karen had called him over, asking if he was ready, and that's when he'd sent me off into town before I could hear what was going on. Not that I was worried, or even all that eager to know. Arthur had been doing this a lot longer than I had, and it certainly wasn't my place to demand to know what he was doing at all hours of the day. I wouldn't've been mad about it, either.

Which was why it puzzled me that he didn't just tell me. 

When he finally rolled back into camp, he headed straight for the money tin, depositing a wad of cash before heading down to the water's edge and lighting up a cigarette. I finished off what I was doing – washing some dishes – before heading over to him. 

"Karen said you all had a good day today. Came away with a good amount," I started. Arthur jumped a little, looking at me in surprise with his cigarette hanging from his lips. He made a little humming sound in response. "I didn't know that's what you were up to today, I would've wished you luck, or somethin'."

"It's alright," he mumbled. I came to a stop by his side, looking out over the water with a soft smile on my lips. 

"I left your things by your bed, got everything on your list," I told him, then reached into my satchel to pull out his leftover cash.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he replied, then noticed my outstretched hand. "You didn't pick up somethin' for yourself? I gave you a little extra in case you wanted to."

"No. Well, I did, but I paid for it. Got myself a gun, something a little less unwieldy," I giggled, taking his hand in mine and pushing the money into it. He stared at it for a moment, but didn't put it away.

"You should keep this, you did me a favour," he told me. I shrugged my shoulders and laughed, shaking my head. 

"Arthur, I can do you favours without taking payment from time to time. You can just give me a few kisses later to say thanks."

"Alright, I shall. Maybe we'll take a walk later, you and me," his mouth curled and he pocketed the cash, nudging me with his shoulder. 

"That'd be nice," I grinned. 

"Show me this gun of yours," he suggested, gesturing to the new addition to my ensemble; a belt with a holster. I withdrew the weapon, carefully handing it to him. It was a Schofield revolver, standard model, I hadn't bothered with any upgrades or customisation. It'd be wasted on me, considering I was the kind to hope to never use the thing. 

Arthur inspected the gun, turning it over in his hand, pointing it out ahead of him and looking down the sight. "You fired it yet?" He asked. 

"Not yet."

And so, with a cheeky little smile from Arthur, we went around collecting empty glass bottles from around the camp. It wasn't hard, Uncle alone could provide us with a few, but other members of the gang chipped in too. Arthur took me out down the edge of the lake, not far from where we'd been the other night, and arranged the bottles up on a rocky part of the bank. 

I stood a few steps away, loaded up my new gun and looked down the sight at an empty gin bottle. Arthur was sitting nearby watching me, legs dangling off the edge of a short drop down to where I was standing by the water's edge. I missed the first couple of shots, just as I expected, as I got used to the new weapon. Arthur cheered when I shattered the first bottle, and I took out a second one to make sure it wasn't a fluke. Satisfied, I lowered my arm and glanced at Arthur.

"Feels similar to my old one, it's good to have a sidearm again," I told him. Arthur nodded and looked down at the gun in my hand. 

"I'm glad you got that, too. You got something small and good for protecting yourself," he said. "So you got a rifle, a bow, a sidearm. You're all stocked up, you ain't gonna run off now, are you?"

"You ain't serious," I scoffed, rolling my eyes then swinging my arm back up towards the bottles. I took aim, then blew out the remaining bottles one by one until there was nothing but shards of glass remaining. I holstered the gun after that, and turned back to Arthur to spot his raised brows, lips a pursed, surprised little circle. I snickered and trotted over to him, standing between his legs and resting my elbows on his knees. "I like you too much to run off."

His expression was soft and open as he gazed at me, like he was touched, yet lost in thought. I looked at him expectantly, but held my tongue. 

"Christ, you're lovely," he told me under his breath, words soft yet still with the ability to jolt me and set my pulse soaring. "I really don't deserve you."

"Arthur," I sighed, tilting my head. "Why'd you say stuff like that?"

"'Cause I believe it to be the truth."

"Well, it ain't. I'll start thinking you're fishing for flattery, you keep on like that," I scolded, frowning at him. He chuckled a little. 

"I ain't fishing for nothin'. I'm sorry, I'll try not to be a misery guts and just appreciate having you like this," he acquiesced, taking my face in both hands. His brow was a little creased and when he smiled, his eyes didn't get the memo.

"Are you alright?" I asked and he took a breath that moved his whole body, his eyes dropping down to my chest distractedly. He let go of my face, letting his hands rest on my shoulders instead.

"I had to do some work today that I've never liked doing," he admitted. 

"The bank?"

"No, not that. Though I don't exactly feel like bragging about that one, either. It's why I never told you, I don't like rubbing your face in my work, it just makes me feel worse about… feeling like I ain't right for you."

"Don't say stuff like that, it worries me," I confessed, mouth turning down. I slid my hands up his thighs before wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning into his torso. He stroked his hands over the back of my head soothingly.

"Why's it worry you?"

"Makes it sound like you're gonna end things with me," I said honestly and Arthur went stiff for a moment before he carried on his movements.

"I ain't gonna do that, princess. I don't have that sort of self control," he assured me, then he must've tilted his head down because his voice sounded closer. "And just like you, I like you too much for that." He pecked the top of my head and my chest sang.

"That's good. I'm glad we're both as hopeless as each other," I mumbled into his shirt and he laughed, shaking me. "Tell me about this work, then."

"Collecting debts for Strauss. It's what had me all wound up when I came into camp that first day you were there, throwing my weight around, yellin' down the place. Remember that?"

"Of course," I told him, thinking about how I remembered every moment I'd spent with him since joining the gang. I doubted I'd forget anything.

"I went to get the rest of the money from Mrs. Downes, today. A widow. I never even got to confront the man himself for the money, he passed before I could. Strauss likes lending money to sick folk, it seems," he started, sighing loudly. "She and her son pulled no punches, let me know just what a sick man I was for doing what I do. They don't need to tell me, it's awful work. These people are desperate, they're having the worst time of their lives and we take advantage of that."

I didn't know what to say, I just kept my face buried in his chest and let him vent.

"I never have liked it. Seems to go against everything Dutch and the rest of us stand for. We ain't angels, but we take from folk who have too much. From folk who won't miss it. And we try and help those who need it, who've lost everything, people like Mrs. Adler."

"And me," I added.

"And you," he repeated, stroking his hand down the length of my hair again. "Mrs. Downes, she's lost everything, now. Her husband, her home. And I'm the face she puts it all to. It… it makes me sick to my stomach."

I straightened up, keeping my arms around him but looking up to see his face. He was looking off towards the camp. I was reminded of the fact that it was broad daylight, and begrudgingly removed myself from him and went to lift myself up onto the ledge beside him. Arthur helped me up when I struggled, offering his hands. When I was finally settled, I looked him in the eye.

"I'm sorry this sort of work is put on you. I know you ain't doing it out of choice."

"Sometimes, I gotta beat the money out'a folk. That's why he sends me, knows they'll be scared of me. I don't pretend to not see why, I ain't no saint, I like a good fist fight as much as the next lowlife criminal. But I don't enjoy handing out beatings to innocent people," Arthur averted his gaze, scratching a patch of dried mud on his jeans. 

I thumbed a piece of hair away from his face, noting how long it was getting. I racked my brains for some sort of solution, but I wasn't blind to the position he was in. I'd noticed Arthur's role in the group very quickly, he was the go-to-guy, it seemed; the one everyone leaned on from time to time. Dutch sent him out far more than anyone else, others pulled him into other jobs here and there, it seemed like Arthur was never short of things to do. Or things expected of him, more accurately. He was dependable, loyal, skilled in practically everything an outlaw could hope to be skilled in, so it was obvious to see how he'd carved this position for himself. I'd never heard him deny anyone anything, either, he just got on with things. Mostly without complaint, too.

Arthur took my silence the wrong way. "I shouldn't be telling you all this, you don't need to hear about all my sins."

"What good am I if I can't lend an ear? We– we're partners, of sorts, ain't we?"

"Of sorts," he glanced up at me, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. 

"I'm trying to think of something to say to you to make it all better. I can't just say, don't do it, because that's not how this works. I know."

"Your understanding means more to me than you can imagine," he told me through a tense breath, putting a hand on my knee. 

"I don't think less of you for the things you do for this gang, please know that," I whispered to him, covering his hand with my own. 

"You probably should, but I won't look a gift horse in the mouth," he chuckled. 

A crunching of gravelly, sandy terrain alerted us that we were not alone. We looked up to see John approaching us, jerking a thumb over his shoulder towards camp.

"Lover boy, Dutch sent me out to get you. He wants to talk to you, apparently Pearson reckons we can end this feud with Colm O'Driscoll once and for all."