#creeping Charlie is a good spice

[catwouthats]

There are actually many grasses/plants that make them sick! Farmers have to make sure those weeds aren’t growing.

The floor is just as much food to us as it is to them.

We have dandelions, broadleaf plantain, violets (but only the ones native to the Americas are edible), clover, mallow, mint, Onion grass, Creeping Charlie (my fav for a spice), chickweed, and then a shit ton of grasses native to America are edible.

Now go forth and forage!

[charliemwrites]

Before charmed slasher Simon revealed his true identity, what were movie nights like? I’d kill for a lil section on them almost cuddling on the couch while watching a scary movie and Simon absolutely adoring when you jump and scooch closer to him on instinct 🥹🥹 please charlie I beg you 😭

*Checks notes, chats with The Council* Yeah okay... we can do that.

CW for a bit of somnophilia and Simon being a creep!!

You open the door looking like some kind of pastry with too-big eyes. Soft, cream-colored pair of joggers and a thin pink jumper, so fuzzy he just knows he'll find fluff on him after this. You look so cozy and sweet; he wants to put a pretty belled collar on you. Maybe watch you curl up in a nest of blankets, safe behind the bars of a cage.

But maybe not, he muses as you chirp a greeting, taking his hand to tug him into your apartment. A lamb inviting a wolf to the pen. He likes you best like this, all loose limbed and free to roam. Thinks maybe you'd lose some of that mischievous glint if he locked you up.

The collar though... he'd like to hear it ring as you bounce around him.

"I am the bestest friend ever," you declare, squeezing calloused fingers so much bigger and crueler and blood-stained than your own. "You know why?"

He arches an eyebrow. Your impish smile widens with delight. "Why's that, luv?"

"Well, you know that one place you wanted last week, but they were closed?"

He grunts and nods. Last week was your choice to pick the movie, which mean he was in charge of dinner.

"Well... they're still closed for repairs but! I talked to the owner, who talked to his mum, and she gave me the recipe for that dish you like. So guess what I did!"

He stares at you for a moment, teeth aching his jaw with the urge to sink them into soft flesh. Mark you as his. How the hell are you real? How the hell are you here?

When he's silent a beat to long, you click your tongue.

"You're no fun - I tried to make it," you explain.

Only then does he become aware of the scent in your apartment. Garlic and red meat and savory spices. His mouth fills with saliva as he focuses his attention on you again.

"Smells great, luv," he says, flicking the corner of his mouth up.

You beam. "Hopefully it's good! I tried it first and it seems alright, but I'm not sure it's as good as the restaurant."

It's almost not a conscious thought to snap his arm out and scoop you up, dragging you in against his chest. You yelp initially, but it devolves into a little giggle as you flatten your palms against his chest.

"Thank you, luv."

Every time he comes into your home, it's a struggle not to keep you. Not to take this place for himself, keep you for his own among all your pretty, soft things. Blood washes out; he'd show you how.

"Rileyyyy!" you mock-whine, pushing at him. "C'mon, before it gets cold."

He wants to make a comment about eating you. Simon thinks he could survive a winter on your taste alone. Instead he lets you on your feet, eases his snake-like grip around your waist. You cast him one last, warm look and skip off to the kitchen to fill bowls with food.

"So what movie are we watching?" you call.

"You ever seen Sinister?" he asks.

You make an annoyed noise. "You know I haven't!"

"Well, that's what we're watching."

You appear with a full, steaming bowl and a beer, shoo him to the couch with a little kick to his ankles. "Get it set up while I finish serving."

"Bossy thing," he tuts, voice a little too low for teasing.

The bridge of your nose darkens with a flush, but you make a cheeky little face in return. "Someone's gotta keep you in line!"

You're gone before you can hear the rumble in his chest. Some days he could swear you know what you're doing; that you know just what sort of animal you're poking at. That you're seeing just how much you can prod before he springs.

He tries not to imagine that cheeky, smug little smirk going all wet-eyed and desperate with lust. Sits to hide the bulge forming in his pants and sets up the movie.

You saunter out with your own, less-filled bowl and a glass of white wine. Take one look at the screen and shoot him an exasperated look.

"I should have known," you complain.

"Literally called Sinister, luv."

"Yeah, I know," you lament.

As soon as the movie starts you're curling into his side, eyes huge. Meal forgotten in your lap.

"Oh, no," you whisper, tilting your face to give him a pleading look. "I can't eat like this!"

"Eat quick, luv. You'll have a break after this first part.”

You do as you’re told; take a big sip of wine when you’re done - just in time for the first jumpscare. You save the wine but quickly put it away, shrinking down against the cushions.

“You’re mean, awful, terrible,” you mumble, fumbling a blanket off the back of the couch.

“‘S not very nice,” he snorts, licking his fork clean. You’d made it quite well for a first time. Not necessarily as good as the restaurant’s but better for you having made it special for him.

“You’re not very nice,” you reply, going stiff with fear as the “home movies” start playing. “No no no, fuck all of that.”

As soon as he’s set his bowl aside, you’re clinging in his arm. Bicep squished against your breasts, little fingers curling hard into flesh. He hopes you’ll leave cute little bruises. Your eyes are huge trained on the tv, bottom lip caught between your teeth.

“Holy shit,” you squeak, hiding your face.

Chuckling, he nudges at you. “Uh uh, no hiding. C’mon, I’m right here.”

You whimper and snuggle in even closer, wedged up against his ribs, leaning into him. Nearly climb into his lap when the creature starts moving on the screen, hands flapping.

“Fuuuuuck that,” you whine, “he’s so fucked oh my god.”

Simon chuckles, setting his other hand on your thigh. Indulges in stroking his thumb over the inseam of your joggers. You barely even seem to notice, engrossed in fear.

By the end, you’re fanning yourself of the panic, shooting him a look that’s meant to be accusing but mostly just owlish.

“You have to make it up to me,” you declare.

Oh, he could think of a dozen ways to do that.

“Yeah?” he rumbles. “What do you need?”

“We’re watching something else. My pick this time.” You pause, shoot him a worried look. “Can you stay for another?”

He smirks. “Couldn’t kick me out if you tried, luv.”

You really couldn’t. Because you’re adorable when you’re scared. Look like something to ruin. But the aftermath is almost better. When your body melts into warmth and (false) safety. The anxiety drains away, leaving you sleepy and pliable. You’ll fall asleep within the hour.

And you do. Clue playing (subtitles on) you’re snoozing against his shoulder before long. He waits until the movie ends for plausible deniability, then takes you to bed. You hardly stir, save to press your nose against his collar with a little hum.

He eases you out of your joggers, eyes flickering at the pretty lace clinging to your hips. Tiny little bows at the sides.

Snuffs out the bedside lamp and fishes his fully-hard cock from his pants. He teases his free hand along your inner thigh, over the lace front of your panties. Scrapes his nail a bit where your clit is hidden. Nearly purrs when you moan softly, wiggling on the mattress to open your thighs wider, still out cold.

Fucks his other hand vicious and brutal, relishing the slight dry pain. Fast and hard, already worked up from having you trembling against him for over an hour. It doesn’t take long to fall over that edge, the memory of your squeaks and cries finishing him off.

He covers the sensitive, angry tip as he cums, no matter how much he wants to paint you with his spend. He takes a deep breath as the pleasure courses through him, twitching through aftershocks. Cracks his neck as he peeks your peaceful expression.

Can’t help himself. Smears his wet thumb over the front of your panties. Nothing you’ll notice in the morning, but you’ll spend all night with him marking your cunt. Maybe even all day tomorrow.

He should go.

Ends up gently, carefully, glossing your bitten bottom lip with a drop of cum as well. Gets rock hard all over again when your tongue flicks out at the sensation, tasting. Still unconscious. You roll over with a sleepy sigh and curl up.

Simon pulls the blankets over you and returns to the living room to clean up from dinner. He’s not yet willing to slink back to his den.

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Masterlist

[lilacwriter07]

Adam groans wanting to go home, he, Angel and Abel are shopping for 4 hours now .

"Come on ! Try this you wanna look pretty for your short king right ?" Angel teased ."If I wear this can I go home ?" Angel nods ."Yeah, yeah, hurry I wanna see !"

Adam is not really happy to wear a bra and panties, but hey if it will spice his sex life with Lucifer more up he is all for it . What he didn't expect was when he walks out, Abel wearing the same thing ."Look dad twins !"

"You airheaded idiot !" Adam feeling shame creep up to him ."Go back and change !"

"Huh ? Why we look good ! Right Angel ?" Angel drooling as Abel hugs his dad, making the sinner wish he was between them ."You making me more sin .." He groans .

"Dad ? Abel ? Are you guys here it's been hours !" Adam didn't react fast enough as Cain storms into the store, his eyes almost falling out of his head ."Dad ?!" Lucifer standing behind him also having the same reaction

"Cain don't look at me !" Adam shouts his face red .

"Brother look at me !" Abel obviously having a different reaction .

As Abel runs and jumps on Cain, Lucifer does the same on Adam . Ofcourse Cain beats the shit out of Abel, as Adam made Lucifer pay for the stained panties and almost ripped bra .

Angel tells Charlie later he had the best day ever ."It was lik heaven ."

[kwop-kilawtley]

FANFIC IDEA: A Jacob x Bella twilight rewritten the way it would’ve happened in the real world & what truly should have happened because I will never subscribe to the fact that Edward & Bella were soulmates & that it was true, meaningful love. EDWARD NEEDED TO FACE CONSEQUENCES FOR HIS ACTIONS but alas he never did. He was not meant to be with Bella, he forced himself into her life & manipulated the situation. It was not fate, it was BLOODLUST, selfishness, obsession & stalking. Anyway, this is what should’ve happened tbh.

NOTE THIS IS A WHOLE ASS MESS AND STARTED AS A CONCEPT BUT I GOT CARRIED AWAY. I will be finishing it the concept. But if someone would like to write out a fully fleshed out version of this.. PLEASEEE DO. I have ideas about where it continues too but my hand is about to fall off.

Bella moves to forks Jan 17. Edward meets Bella in bio Jan 18th. 25th van.

(This would be Chapter 8: Ghost in Midnight Sun. This part is in iguana-Edward’s POV. So this is before port Angela’s happens but is after the van. March 7th, 1 month & 2 weeks after Bella moves to forks. Bella goes to the Blacks house every weekend since she moved)

Charlie catches Edward stalking Bella in the bushes while she’s asleep reading her book on the lawn (the fact this is canon btw 🤢) Ofc in canon he is a vampire so he got away with it because of his speed & mind reading but nah that shouldn’t have happened. But in this fic it is a SECOND too late where Charlie already saw him from driving down the block so Edward has to stay & not run bc it’s either Edward getting caught stalking or Edward revealing his secret of being a vampire. Charlie wakes up bella and he confronts him. Bella is very confused by the situation. This time, Edward is able to charm his way out of it making up some excuse that he was coming by to drop off a book of Bella’s that she left in biology (the fucking creep had it in his pretentious little peacoat jacket)but it was a book from her room he took (ok Joe goldberg go off) Charlie let’s it go this time but is still sus.

(Bella’s POV) Bella couldn’t stop thinking about how strange the whole thing was. “Did I really leave that book on my desk in Biology? I could’ve sworn it was the last book on the stack next to my bed.” Alas she believes his gaslighting lies & moves on with her night. That night, Bella & Charlie go to the Blacks house for dinner. She cooks lasagna & it is a cozy time. Jacob is her assistant chef, handing her all the ingredients & of course making her laugh the whole time while their dads watch the game. He is so dizzy & nervous from how pretty she is that he leaves the spice cabinet open & bangs his head in the top corner hinge (cause it’s canon he’s a tall clutz in New Moon). He bleeds a little bit & bella gets nauseous from it but after she pops the lasagna in the oven, she sits him down to blot the wound on his head. As nauseated she is by the blood, she is laughing & he is making fun of her little gags in between. They look in each other’s eyes & Bella blushes a whole lot. She bandages it up (she keeps bandages in her little bag bc of how much of a clutz she is) & then sits at the table next to him. She comments on his long hair, how it’s even longer than hers & asks him about his hair care routine. He gets embarrassed, stammering cause he probably doesn’t take as good care of his hair as he should. He tells her he uses a homemade Quileute shampoo that all the guys get from a sweet older woman on the rez. She finds it sweet. She scoots her chair next to him & starts to braid the lock of hair that frames his face. She asks another question about his hair but he doesn’t answer cause he is just smiling looking at her. He loves her pink cheeks, soft lips, thoughtful & caring nature. He is in heaven. “What? Do you really not use conditioner? And no, grease or motor oil does not count as conditioner, Jake.” He laughs, shakes his head & tells her that he just uses coconut oil. Bella finishes the braid and then runs a finger through his hair. “That makes sense, it’s so soft, maybe I’ll take notes from you. I just use what Charlie gets from the store which is usually something pink and smells like berries. VO5 usually. I DO have a good conditioner though.”She laughs. “I don’t have the heart to tell him it’s probably not the best for my hair. He does his best with me.”

After dinner, they have a bonfire outside with others from the rez, basically whoever wants to show up and join. But bella and Jacob barely notice who is there. Jake gave up his log for Bella & sits on the floor beside her. The height difference still allows him to look down at her. They talk all about their memories as kids making mudpies & Jake brings up how they’d hold hands walking by the water at First Beach because of how clumsy Bella is. “We were so young but I always knew you as the one that would always fall. I was scared that the ocean would suck you up like a toilet or something so I had to hold your hand.” They both blush at this. “No, yeah, I remember. They probably should’ve kept a better eye on us back then because I remember once I DID fall in the water, flat on my stupid face, but you helped me up. Renee definitely did not pack me the right shoes to wear for the beaches & rain.” They talk about Renee a bit & Jake asks how the whole situation made her feel. “Do you think your mom should’ve left like that? I mean, I get it, people get divorced but how does it make you feel. Do you feel better here with Charlie?” Typically this would have Bella get defensive since she is very protective over her mother but it was the first time someone kindly asked her this question & made her think about Renee’s parenting. “I miss Phoenix, its my favorite place in the world and I do miss my erratic mother.” She laughs. “But it’s kind of nice not having to baby Charlie. Sure, I cook for him and help out around the house but I feel a lot more.. relaxed since being here if that’s makes sense? The best way to put it is this: Renee is like my best friend and Charlie is my parent. Is that kind of weird? Renee worries about me like crazy but she’s definitely made me have to fend for myself a lot. It was also pretty lonely living there whereas with Charlie, I think we keep each other company real well. I mean, I think I’m more like him despite me not having spent as much time with him.” Jacob can see the realization in her face that she hasn’t let go in a long time. That she was her mothers emotional support and was generally a lonely kid. They then got distracted because someone brought marshmallows, chocolate & graham crackers. “I cannot remember the last time I had s’mores.” bella says, face all lit up. Jake grabs them two plates immediately seeing how happy she was about it. “Aw man, this is why you shouldve come down here more often, Bells. Life’s boring without s’mores. I’m glad you’ve been coming every weekend though. We got a good little thing going on in our community. Honestly, I can’t imagine what it’s like down at forks high school.” Jacob fakes a yawn. Bella talks about her school and friends and how different it is from Phoenix. “It’s pretty different, honestly. Some of the people are nosy but I can’t blame them cause there’s not much to do here. They were sort of amazed by my mere existence and I kinda of wanted to hide under a rock forever when I first started here. It’s definitely better now but some people are definitely still… strange. Especially that family, the Cullens. I know they have a bad rep here on the rez and I sort of can see why.” Jacob goes wide eyed and then shakes his head. “Man, when will I ever stop hearing about these people. The quileutes have some really out there theories about them. I’ll have to tell you some other time though.” Bella wants to ask what he means but she doesn’t want to pry right now in case anyone listens in on the conversation. She turns dramatically to Jacobs face and burns her eyes deep into his. “Jacob Black, I have a very serious, urgent question for you.”

He looks shocked and his heart races a little bit. He puts his plate on the floor and clears his throat. “Uh, yeah Bells?”

“How crispy do you like your marshmallows?” He exhales & smiles his giant grin as he pops one in his mouth.

Next day is in edwards POV again (y’all know I do not have the STRENGTH to write in his POV rn)He is mentally going insane over bella. It’s been sunny (symbolic of Bella being with her sunny boy Jacob) which has been keeping the cullens from attending school. Edward is running in the woods trying to get Bella off his mind. He eventually gives into his selfish need to see/smell her and excuses it as “making sure she’s safe.” He tracked her scent but it led him to the treaty line. This time he is watching Bella and Jacob hanging out. He knows he can’t pass the treaty line, especially not under the circumstances but he tells himself no one will know. He slips on by to Jacobs little red house and watches behind a car like the iguana he is.

Jacob is working on the rabbit & Bella is watching. They’re eating pizza and she almost chokes from laughing. Edward is losing his mind in jealousy and it’s eating him up to see her so happy with someone else. Someone human, something he could never be. Bella is now acting as Jacob’s assistant with the car like he was doing in the kitchen. But Bella doesn’t know names of tools very well so they just start making up their own names for them. “The pointy one with the red top.” Jacob is teasing her saying he was a much better assistant then she is being. “It’s not fair though! SPICES are very easy to know. They are literally labeled, Jake. I mean what even is this thing?” She holds up a very small tool. They then name every tool a human name. “Okay this one would totally be a Gary. Look at it!.” They then get in a rhythm of this. “Bella, hand me Josephina.” “On it, chief.” She scuttles over to him & he takes the tool. He has grease all over his hands and shirt and wipes some on Bella’s nose. “Hey! C’mon I just washed my face before I got here.” She pouts and scoots over closer to Jacob while trying to rub it off, annoyed. Jacob puts the tool in his hand down on the inside of the hood of the rabbit and looks at her. She sticks her tongue out at him. “Is it off my nose?” She scrubs her nose again & looks the other way, red faced. He puts his pointer finger in one of the belt loops of her jeans and pulls her a little closer. She looks at him a little shocked. Then he lifts his hand up to wipe the grease off her nose. He smiles, strokes her face & says “Xaks óta chi chi”

“What did you say?” He blushes. ��Nothing. Just talking to myself.”

Edward was familiar with Quileute & knew what he said. He’s seen enough. Edward leaves the rez and promises never to come back. He will leave Bella alone (he won’t lol)

Then it switches to Jacob or Bella’s POV. A little bit after they got on the topic of Edward & what happened with him just showing up to her house with her book. She doesn’t accuse him of stalking but just says it was odd along with the van incident and the hot and cold behaviors. Jacob is highly disturbed by what bella is saying to him. “Listen, Bella, this isn’t… good. Don’t let that guy get in your head like that. If you think that book was in your stack of books, then it probably was. Does Charlie have cameras? The van thing.. well, it kind of makes sense with what they say around here about them. An adrenaline rush? Come on. And the way he is lingering around you making you feel special some days and then others being mean. If you feel like this guy is actually following you or giving you issues, you can always come here. The cullens aren’t even allowed on the rez because of the legends.” Jacob is trying to make sense of it in his head. Could all of this really be true about them? Bella went on to say that she’s not afraid of him though and thinks he’s just misunderstood. She just can’t stop thinking about that book and the van incident. Jacob is patient with her but tries to put it more in perspective. “If that book was in your room then that means he was in your room. Do you even know what that means?”

A few days pass, edward is outside her house at night debating going into her room again. “One last time. I have to say my goodbyes.” He climbs through swiftly while she’s asleep. He searches through her things and makes note of the book she is reading, does her homework for her in her handwriting that he perfectly emulated. He gets close to her and breathes in her hair. He starts to pout beside her on the bed. “She had said my name in her sleep. She dreams of me. She feels this too. We were meant to be.” He has a full blown breakdown with himself driving himself mad. He had not been careful though. He was so deep in his thoughts & heartbreak, completely consumed by Bella’s scent. Driven into a frenzied state of obsession & bloodlust, he made a grave mistake. he turns around behind him with Charlie’s gun in his face. He almost instinctively ran, since that is what he does best. But again, being caught as a stalker is better than being revealed to be a vampire.

“What. The. Fuck. Are. You. Doing. In. My. House.” Charlie grabs edward and pushes him into the hallway. Edward obviously was not pushed but he had to pretend to be human if he was going to get out of this. “It isn’t what it looks like, Charlie. I’m so very sorry that you had to catch me like this. You see, your daughter is very accident prone and I-“

“Shut the fuck up. ITS EXACTLY what it looks like. I know exactly what kind of sicko you are. I’m taking you down to the station.”

Bella appears at the door, mouth agape. She stumbles backwards.

“Edward w-what are you doing here. DAD! Why do you have a gun?!”

“Bella get back in your room. I’m handling this and filing a restraining order against this creep. DAMNIT, BELLS, Get back in your room.”

Bella has tears welling up in her eyes and runs back into her room, shaking.

Edward is trying to barter with Charlie on the way down the stairs but he’s having none of it. His gaslighting dazzling bullshit is NOT going to work this time. Charlie drives to the station & arrests Edward Cullen for stalking & breaking & entering. He is disturbed by how cold Edwards hands are when he’s getting his fingerprint.

Bellas POV

She’s crying still in her bed. She starts looking all over her room and notices things out of place. She notices the books out of order, her homework done, her clothes perfectly folded, her shoes polished and cleaned. She has never felt so violated in her life. The guy who has been playing with her emotions since she’s been here had just been a stalker all along. She thought she even was catching feelings for Edward. She was completely fascinated by his beauty & charm. The way he saved her life and said her name. She was intoxicated by him, nervous around him. But now she understood why. There was something off from the very start, the way he hated her so much in biology was not normal. She couldn’t understand it at all. She started shaking as she reached for her cell and called Jacob. He picked up after 2 rings.

“Bella? Are you okay? What time is it?”

“I-Jake I’m so s-sorry for waking you. I… cant believe what just happened.” She explained and Jacob spit out “Lock your window. Lock your front door. Do not open it until I call you. I will be right there.”

Her phone rang but she was already at the door since she heard him pull up. She opened the door and came in, locked the door immediately behind him. She threw herself at him sobbing. “Oh, Jacob. I don’t even know what happened. How stupid could I be? He was STALKING me! In my room, watching me sleep. He even cleaned my room and did my homework. I mean what the hell is that!”

“Shhh, Bella, honey. Calm down. It’s okay, Charlie is taking care of it. I’ve got you. Come here I’ve got you.” He lifts her up in one swift movement and pulls her on his lap on the couch in the living room. He pets her hair and holds her close.

“Listen to me right now. He won’t get away with this. He violated you and your trust. How the hell did he get in here?” Jacob peered around and looked for an open window or sign or forced entry. She continued to sob in his hair.

“But I just don’t… understand. He saved my life, Jacob. I’d be dead from that van without him. Why would he be a creep? I just don’t understand it. I cannot understand it.”

Jake signs “he was obsessed with you. And I- I think it’s possible he only saved you from that van so he could have you all to himself.” He gulped. Bella looked up and blinked through tears. “What?”

“The stories, Bells. Have you really never heard them. My dad thinks the Cullens are fucking vampires. I think, maybe, that could be part of it.”

Bella cocked her head and shook her head “and I repeat.. WHAT? Did you really just say VAMPIRES? Jake do you hear yourself?”

“Do you think I don’t know how crazy that sounds. I’ve been hearing this my whole life. I never believed it, but maybe that’s what’s going on here too. Or I’m just sleep deprived and going insane like Billy.”

Bella shakes her head again. “Those are just scary stories. Come on.”

She felt a chill through her body and things started to add up in her head. She looks up at Jacobs concerned face.

“Thank you for coming. Im so sorry you look exhausted.”

“Are you kidding? Of course I came. This is some crazy stuff. I can, uh, stay too. If you want? I can sleep on the couch or we can just stay up or something.” She nuzzled her face in his chest. “I doubt you’ll be able to sleep though. I’m so sorry this happened.” He strokes her hair and cradles her even closer. “I promise I would never, ever hurt you.” He says. “Seeing your face every weekend has sort of been the best thing that’s happened in a while. Just saying.” She looks up at him. “Really? You’re not sick of me yet? Im so sorry for dragging you into my drama I really don’t mean to bring you down.” He puts his fingers to her lips. “Shhhh.”

“I really like seeing your face too every weekend. You know, Jake, you’re sort of beautiful?” He turns beat red and laughs.

“Okay, now I think YOU’RE a little sleep deprived now.”

“You really are. You also make me feel.. safe. I mean I’ve been getting stalked and watched in my sleep by an alleged vampire who I thought I liked and you are the only one I’d trust to be around right now.” Bella forces out a laugh but shivers at the possibility of that even being remotely true.

“You are safe with me. Hey, if the dude is actually a fucking vampire, maybe Sam Uley & my old man will stake him when they hear about this. They get all serious about the “cold ones. We all got your back.”

She grabs his big hand and bites it then hisses like a vampire at him. “What if he bit me in my sleep, oOoOo.”

“God, always coming through with the gallows humor. Only you would be able to laugh in a situation like this, Bells.”

“Only because I have you here, my own personal sun.” She kisses the same spot on his hand where she bit.

TO BE CONTINUED

[psych0ruinz]

Please tell me about your twd ocs I need to know everything abt them ♡♡♡

ohohoh!!!!

Dr. Constance "Connor" Hayes (She/Her) is a microbiologist in medical research in her late 50s- early 60s when everything first goes down. Because of this she helps work on a version of the "cure" and since they dont have any test subjects she gets it tested on herself. Sadly soon after they loose the lab to the outbreak. So she starts traveling around, trying to find somewhere safe. She ends up becoming a worker at the Sanctuary, mostly working in the gardens and keeping to herself. She goes by Connor and she can't let people know who she is. Especially here. Its when Eugene is sent to the Sanctuary she packs her things, ready to leave any moment. She can tell she shouldn't stay much longer. She finally leaves when Sasha breaks in. From there she focuses on her medical research, trying to stuff herself with as many homemade diy cures as she can. Using herself as her test subject. She knows she's too much of a coward to find out if any of them work. She doesn't want to know and deep inside she knows it wont matter. She could still be torn apart by walkers or killed by another person. But now it feels more sunk cost fallacy to her. So at the "end" point of her story its her being closed off and only moving when she needs to find a place that has at least a little power or gas to fill a generator. She's cold hearted and apathetic, fine with killing but when it comes to her medical research she is self sacrificing and wouldn't want to get anyone hurt from it. (by the time of the dead city time line she is old and still very much kicking) she has long grey hair which she keeps up in a messy bun and has big glasses which cover grey eyes, she kinda dresses like Milo from Atlantis with a tank top and pants tucked into boots. She uses a rifle and hatchet.

Fiona Gurro (She/They) is a teen from a private school where she was class president as well as president to the av club. she hid her bitterness and anger behind false smiles and the apocalypse really let her personality shine. She has become a radio host in the end of the world, mostly talking about whatever and playing music. She keeps track of the days and every so often during the day she will announce the date. She personally doesn't care but she knows other people do and the more people care about her radio station the more sway she has. The more likely people are to believe anything she says, if you cross her you will end up hunted. but she doesn't leave her station much, she only goes out for water and food. food is harder to find and she isnt a great hunter so her office is piled high with books on foraging. she also had to learn to take care of her solar panels, winters are hard for her as she has to keep them clear. She has no fighting experience but is quick and cautious. (blonde buzzed hair and covered in freckles with blue eyes)

Pomline Jones (She/Her) is an ex-catholic from an family who beliefs are more cult-like then actually religious. She is in her late twenties and was married to a abusive man about 15 years older than her. She didn't make these choices her family did, while she still has some religious beliefs they aren't so strict and cruel anymore. She kinda faux punk, half shaven head and all leather and always has a pickaxe on her belt. She's a loner and an angry violent one at that. All her bottled up emotions have made her volatile. She wont hesitate to threaten and kill. Like she did to her perfectly clean catholic husband. A big thing for her is making food taste good so she always has spices in her bag, people leave them behind so she finds that they are easy to get her hands on. (black hair with sharp green eyes and too much eye makeup)

Charlie "Creep" Andrews (He/It) is what some people call a stalker, he is always watching and quick on his feet. He can scale buildings swiftly and its all for his own gain. That gain is making people uncomfortable. He didn't choose to be called Creep it was just a nickname people called him because he wears a respirator and goggles with a hoodie and just watches. he is always just around every corner. waiting. for what, just for fun. If you ask him what he did before the apocalypse he will shrug and give a different vauge answer each time. But be careful because he is surprising quick in melee combat, he isn't strong but quite dexterous. He can put a screwdrivee through your eye the moment you glance away and he uses distractions as a boon while around others. (brown mousy hair with brown eyes, just some short guy who bites)

[timespaceandfilm]

Reinventing the Wheel - Ch 19: Anticipation

Author: timespaceandfilm

Fic Rating: E - this fic gets NSFW in later chapters, 18+ only

Chapter Rating: E - there be smut below the cut

Pairings: Sebastian x Female Farmer

Chapter Word Count: 7 k

Chapter Warnings: More spice in this one. Strong dom/sub undertones. You have been warned.

Chapter Summary: Charlie and Seb continue to learn new things about the magic of the valley and each other. Robin and Charlie have a talk.

Blurb:

When I wake up in Sebastian's arms again my thoughts are much the same as they were yesterday. Am I still dreaming? Did all that really happen? Fuck I gotta pee. Like yesterday, I crawl back into bed when I'm done in the bathroom, admiring Sebastian's pale visage as I tangle our limbs together again.

Unlike yesterday, I don't fall back asleep though. My mind is thoroughly awake now that I've been up. So rather than let the brain bots have their way with me just yet, I occupy myself by watching Sebastian sleep.

His face is so peaceful like this, free of worries and mischief alike. There's a longer piece of his fringe grazing his nose that floats into the air every time he breathes out. I reach out to tuck it behind his ear and curse internally as he inhales sharply.

Those beautiful gray eyes blink open and squint at me.

“Hey, sorry didn't mean to wake you.” I smile.

“You creeping on me?” He smirks, pressing a kiss to my hand.

“Can you blame me?” I thread my fingers into his hair and pull him in for a kiss.

“Hmm. I s’pose not. ‘specially when I was doing the same yesterday.”

I breathe a laugh. “Oh really?”

“Can you blame m- umph.” Seb is cut off by a grunt leaving his mouth as I shift the leg that's between his, my thigh brushing against his half-chub.

I raise an eyebrow. “Well good morning to you too.” The feeling of him twitching against me has the embers of yesterday's escapade reigniting.

“Sorry,” Seb chuckles.

“It's ok. It happens.” I smirk. “Do you… want help with that?”

He raises an eyebrow back. “Hmm well if you're offering…” I nod. “Then what kind of fool would I be to turn you down?” Seb leans in for another kiss, taking it deep and hungry almost immediately. “Did you have something in mind?”

I hadn't actually thought about it but now that he's posing the question…

“Yeah.” My cheeks flush and I blink at him shyly. “I wanna taste you.” I trail my hand down to graze over where he's hardening in his boxer briefs. “Will you teach me how?”

Seb groans, hips bucking into my hand as he plants another ravenous kiss on my lips.

“ Fuck , Charlie. Yeah I can do that darling.”

He tosses the covers off both of us and I expect him to sit up against the headboard or swing his legs over the side of the bed. Instead he gently pushes my shoulder so I'm laying on my back and climbs over me.

“Seb,” I giggle in protest, parting my legs to accommodate his bony hips anyway.

“This is part of it, I swear,” He mumbles against my jaw as he begins trailing his lips along it.

Read the Full Chapter on AO3

[occult-roommates]

A new beginning to an old story

Around five days after their walk in the park, Athena felt ready to invite Akva to her new apartment. The reason it took so long is mostly because she needed to clean it first, and also for Akva to have some free time in between her retail job and flying lessons, but now it was time.

Athena: Tadah! Akva: Oh wow, congratulation on getting your own place. It's actually pretty decent. Athena: Why are you surprised by that? Akva: Cause like, have you seen my apartment? I live with six grown adults and one baby, but we only have two bedrooms but Charlie refuses to share hers except with the baby. We barely have enough space, privacy is like a foreign concept to me now after living like this for more than three years. Athena: I mean, I'm just saying, I only have one bedroom, but I think it's spacious enough I could get at least one roommates. Akva: Also, I was about to ask how you can afford it, but I mean, it's the spice district, most people in the area don't make that much money in the first place. Athena: That's because Paisley pays me good. Like I said, I could have a roommate to make it easier but I don't absolutely need one. Especially since in college I had one that must be from Hell. Like imagine a dude who refuses to shower more than once a week in spite of being a gym rat, would leave his dirty dishes everywhere to the point we had bugs infestation multiple times, and would punch holes into walls on a regular basis. Even had to bail him out of jail after a DUI with the money I needed to pay for a new computer. Oh and also he'd let his used condoms around the apartment as a way to assert dominance over my "beta" ass. Akva: Cause this guy was getting laid???!!!

Anyway, Athena kept showing Akva around the place. It wasn't that decorated to her personality yet, 50% because she couldn't afford it yet, 50% because the landlord wouldn't let her repaint that sickly green or move the furnitures around that much.

Then, the two women sat down on the couch to continue their little chat.

Athena: Fun fact, you can see by the window the exact place where that plane landed in the Myshun river a few years ago. Akva: Oh wow, that's cool. I remember recently, Ralf and I went to an aviation museum that's in southern New York in hope of seeing part of that plane, but turns out it's in North Carolina. We still had fun though, after the museum we went to eat at the shadiest roadside dinner known to man. Athena: Who are you talking about? Akva: Ralf is my new father figure, you should meet him, he is really nice.

Akva then leaned in for a hug. It felt good to finally have a close friend back in town. It felt even more special now that she knew Athena was actually happy and not just pretending. Though, it did messed her up that she literally had no idea what she was going through. Then again, in her defense, she was living on the other side of the country, even if Athena was visibly unhappy, she couldn't have known. Yeah, they did saw each other from time to time, like when they briefly dated which caused Akva to get pregnant, but still, she could have very well hid how she felt.

Akva: And you know, it would feel even more special if instead of introducing you to him as my friend...

Akva tapped her laps and told Athena to sit here, so she did. Now that they were in a more intimade position, step 2.

Akva: I'd introduce you as my girlfriend.

Athena looked at her all red and then, they made out on the couch, as the cameraman panned away as to not creep on them. Maybe their first attempt at dating did not ended up super well, and let's be real, ruined Akva's life for a year, but this time is the right time. Round 2 will be different, round 2 will have a happy ending.

Prev - Next

[thenightling]

Well, now that I've updated my favorite Christmas songs list. Here is my list of favorite Halloween songs. Note, this list is subject to change based on my mood.

Bonus: Locked Within the Crystal Ball by Black Moore's Night. It's not actually Halloween related but it has a very elemental magick feel to it so I felt it was worth a mention.

Also bonus mention for Queen's A Kind of Magic.

25. Witch's brew by Omnia. The lyrics are directly taken from Shakespeare's MacBeth but because the play is considered to be cursed the song may be cursed. The story goes that the scene with he three witches was based on an encounter Shakespeare had with some actual witches and as punishment for making them characters in his play, the play was cursed. Now actors and theatre crew consider it bad luck to say the name of the play. It's often referred to as "The Scottish Play" and the only time its name can be said is when you are talking specifically about the character. So because it might be cursed, I put it very low on the list.

24. Lost in the Shadows from the Lost Boys soundtrack. This is an old favorite as I used to watch that movie every summer but I associate it more with summer than Halloween which is why I put it so low on the list.

23. The Master's song, sung by Renfield in Dracula the musical by Frank Wildhorn.

22. Life after Life from Dracula the musical by Frank Wildhorn and sung by Dracula and Lucy.

21. Anything can happen on Halloween sung by Tim Curry for the TV movie version of The Worst Witch.

20. Hex Girl from The Hex Girls for Scooby Doo and The Witch's Ghost. From the Wiccan Eco Goth equivalent of The Spice Girls.

19. Touching old Magic AKA The Halloween song from the Halloween door episode of The Real Ghostbusters animated series. Surprisingly good for a song from an animated series from the 80s.

18. Halloween by John McCutchen. This was a pain to track down. I heard it on Halloween radio and liked it and it took me a while to find a decent recording of it.

17. Halloween by J. P. Ashkar. This song was a Tiktok hit last Halloween and the full (longer) version of the audio can be found on Youtube. It's really very catchy.

16. Creepy Crawlies by Scary Bitches. This song was (for many years) the unofficial theme song to the Spirit Halloween store. The first time I heard it was on the radio in a Spirit Halloween store.

15. Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps) by David Bowie. Not quite Halloween related but it plays on Halloween radio and so does Magic Dance (which is listed under this one). The album Scary Monsters (and super Creeps) inspired Danny Elfman during his Oingo Boingo days.

14. Magic Dance by David Bowie for the movie Labyrinth. Sung by Jareth, The Goblin King, and his goblin minion, to entertain a human baby.

13. The Witches are back to the tune of the similarly named Elton John song, from Hocus Pocus 2.

12. One way or Another. The Hocus Pocus 2 version sung by Bette Midler.

11. I put a spell on you. Bette Midler's cover from Hocus Pocus.

10. Horror in Action by Kayak. For some reason this song makes me think of Cain and The House of Mystery horror anthology comics by DC.

9. You won't survive by Count Crow. A parody version of "I will Survive" sung by Dracula to his victims. I just think it's darkly funny.

8. Fright Night from J. Geils Band. This is the title track for the movie Fright Night from 1985 starring the late Roddy McDowall as a hasbeen horror actor who is dragged into the world of the supernatural when teenager, Charlie Brewster, believes his neighbor to be a real vampire. Peter Vincent must overcome his fears and becomes the hero he always pretended to be. Roddy McDowall's voice is even sampled briefly in the song.

7. Monster Mash by Bobby "Boris" Pickett. How can I not love this classic? But my favorite version of it is a recording I actually only heard relatively recently. Vincent Price's cover from the 1970s.

6. Thriller by Michael Jackson and Vincent Price. I mostly love it for the iconic dance but most especially for Vincent Price's poem / "Rap" and of course his iconic cackle at the end of the song. My friend Sarah used Vincent Price's cackle from the song as my ringtone on her cellphone for many years.

5. Ghostbusters by Ray Parker Jr. This one is a childhood favorite. The title track to the original Ghostbusters movie and the theme song for The Real Ghostbusters animated series. The animated series inspired me to study parapsychology and made me want to be a parapsychologist when I was thirteen.

A recent interview with Ray Parker Jr. revealed that he loves the song because it always makes people smile. No one is ever crying when the Ghostbusters song is playing. He said how even little kids will answer "Who you gonna call?" with "Ghostbusters!" And that's what he likes about the song, it brings people joy. There's no negative emotion attached to the song. And I realized he's right. It's just a fun song.

4. Pet Sematary by The Ramones. Deliberately misspelt, this song was the title track for the movie of the same name, based on the novel by Stephen King. I actually like the song more than the movie. The song is from the point of view of someone who doesn't want to be raised from the dead. In role playing games I always made this the favorite song of my original character, Shelley.

A cover of the song was performed by Plain White Ts for the soundtrack of Tim Burton's remake of Frankenweenie (he was remaking his own short film but as stop motion). I actually prefer the original Ramones version. Though I do love it's use for a Frankenstein story.

3. Weird Science by Danny Elfman / Oingo Boingo. I love the song for it's bouncy nature. Yes, it's "Mainstream' but so what? Oingo Boingo fans who refuse to like any of their "mainstream" songs are (in my opinion) kind of pretentious. Yes, it was written for a cheesy teen comedy that later became a 90s teen sitcom on USA Network. But so what? The song is from the point of view of a scientist / sorcerer or alchemist attempting to create life. It's heavily inspired by Bride of Frankenstein and the version used in the opening of the Weird Science TV series samples clips from Bride of Frankenstein.

In role playing games I often made this the favorite song of my "therapist for monsters" character Percy Van Helsing.

2. Dead Man's Party. This song will now always remind me of a wonderful time I had with my cousin and soul sister, Jessica Louise Conroy and her son, Joey, at Six Flags last Halloween season. It played a lot over the speakers there and was already a Halloween favorite of mine. It's by Danny Elfman from when he was the lead singer of the rock band Oingo Boingo. And it makes reference to the scary story "Room for One More." Today Danny Elfman uses it as his encore performance at the end of his Nightmare before Christmas concerts but between 1996 until 2015 he did not perform it live. Now it's tradition that he adds it to his annual Nightmare before Christmas concerts. And the song became the basis for Six Flag's Halloween stage show of the same name, "Dead Man's Party."

1. This is Halloween. Written by Danny Elfman for Nightmare before Christmas it finally reached the Billboard Top 100 for the first time this year. My favorite recording of it is the demo version sung by Danny Elfman himself because it sounds like Jack Skellington is giving you a tour of his home town.

Another Bonus: I also love Halloween Bash by Irving Fink. I didn't put it on the list before because I couldn't remember who recorded it. I knew it as "Monster Bash" from Halloween Radio, a song I heavily associate with my dearest friend Lorie Pringle

[astriiformes]

Hey Nate! Now that my group is playing dnd in person again, we are thinking of ways to incorporate dnd themed food into game days, because we usually play through a mealtime. As a forager and local cool ingredient expert, do you have any thoughts on non traditional foods or ingredients that can be fun to include? (i am willing to forage but i know. nothing. so maybe easy mode for those suggestions haha)

Hm! Well one of my first suggestions would have been spruce tips, since forest vibes are often good for D&D, they are very accessible and easy to safely identify even if you don't know much about plants, and you can do quite a few things with them (tea, syrups, even just eating as is). Tragically they're just out of season, though, so maybe next spring! The same goes for fiddleheads, which are only tricky in that you need to make sure you are gathering ostrich ferns specifically, but are also one of those things that look so whimsical many people are surprised to learn they're real.

Things that might be more in season right now:

Foraged mushrooms, definitely, some of which are actually pretty beginner friendly. Chanterelles seem like one that have a bit of a fantasy feel, and aren't too hard to learn how to ID safely.

As summer goes on you could also do some berry-picking, which is about as safe as foraging gets if you're gathering something distinctive like blackberries or raspberries, and while they may not be non-traditional, foraged ones are often much more flavorful (plus you get that special satisfaction that you picked them yourself -- maybe even with the friends you game with!).

Elderflower/elderberries are also somewhat entrenched as fantasy staples (thinking about the elderflower cordial that cropped up a lot in the Redwall books), and eminently foragable

Wild roses and rose hips are probably just about in season as well -- rosewater was a common ingredient in many medieval recipes, so it would be perfect for trying in D&D-inspired dishes as well!

Juniper "berries" are a little more of a toss-up, but something you might consider. They've traditionally been used as a cooking spice of sorts and are another one that feels right to me for some fantasy foods

Lastly, if you're interested in making some teas to drink while you play, I have found that ground ivy (also known as "Creeping Charlie," which is what most folks I know have called it) makes for a very forest-y brew. I don't like it as much on its own, but paired with mint or spruce flavors it starts to taste like the closest thing I've ever had to an Entdraught

Also, as the year goes on and we creep into fall/winter: Acorns take a fair bit of prep on the cooking end, but are obviously very beginner friendly in terms of IDing them, feel extremely fantasy, and have a fantastic flavor. My acorn birthday cake last year had almost a gingerbread-y flavor, entirely thanks to the nuts! You also find black walnuts by the dozens here in Minnesota (and nuts are one of the things that are almost always fair game to take in the public lands that allow foraging here). Black trumpets are also very distinctive, beginner friendly muchrooms that grow later in the season here, and make a fun, deep black broth with a sort of magic/witchy feel. And in fall and into the winter, I highly recommend looking for chaga -- it's a weird mushroom that grows on birch trees that is often ground up and prepped as a tea or a cocoa additive (and thus the most Caduceus Clay thing in existence).

Lastly, you also might consider having a look at The Wondersmith's blog! She's a favorite source of mine for fun foraged recipe inspiration, and leans extremely fantasy-oriented. Worth noting that she's in the PNW, not the Midwest, but there's still a fair bit of crossover when it comes to some of the foraged ingredients she uses, and her ideas are all inspired. I highly recommend scrolling through her blog sometime.

[nellynee]

Harioween 2021 day 01- Mischief

Fill for @blooeyedtroll ‘s Hairoween prompt, crossposted at AO3 here.

Song reference, "Kiss an angel good morning" by Charlie Pride.

Headcanon - My brain can't make sense of where all the really highly processed stuff from really specific environments that aren't reasonably accessible to Trolls comes from so it went full kookoo and decided fantasy logic.

So The mines outside of Lonesome Flats is a spice mine, where they dig out huge hunks of capsaicin in the form of rhinestones from between the quilt like dirt. When it turns winter in the mountains, the river freezes upstream and turns to a trickle, and there's runoff from said mountain, leaving another kind of spice to be panned for. It's pumpkin spice season folks.

Fill under cut

Delta Dawn heaves a deep sigh as she gazes out into her namesake, hour early enough that there’s still a nip of cold set into the porch from the moon’s cool, sleepy gaze. The year has tipped forward again, through near miserable summer into something most folks might call tolerable. In the near dawn, it’s downright chilly, and she sits on her creaky old rocking chair, front hooves tapping lightly against the worn wood of her front porch and time soft shawl across her shoulders, some old thing her great granny had stolen from the mountain folk years ago, color long and lovingly faded into dark navy and a red just a few shades darker than mud. Long shadows stretch between buildings as the sun yawns, and she finds herself fallowing suit.

It’s quiet. But it’s acceptably so. Her fingers itch to pluck at her strings, but the town still sleeps while the cool will let them, and no respectable folk would suffer even her disturbance when the heat hasn't set in yet. Instead, she leans her head back against the rim of her chair and lets the gentle, rhythmic sway lullaby her into contentment.

There’s a beat there, in the downtap of every swing of her chair, in the sway of chimes from the rafters, in the little grumbles and occasional spiting of Miss Daisy Dukes as she clacks her knitting needles across the way on her own porch. Old woman sleeps on her porch, if she sleeps at all, and was never much for respectable otherwise. But there’s something there, and the Mayor chases it with a hum, breaking every now and again to wet her throat with the warm drink steaming gently on the little rough aside table she keeps besides her chair for just this occasion.

It hot and just on the right side of spice. As the cool settles into the desert nights and the cold snow settles into the mountains the river running right along their fair little settlement runs just almost dry, and the little ones spend their days panning for the rhinestone bright crystals they grind into spice. What they dig from the mines is hot and painful in the mouth after years baking in the sun, but the dark muddy nuggets from the river are bitter and musky with clove and cinnamon. Soon, very soon, the Prairie folk will flood the highways, running from the snow, with all sorts of goods and commerce, and Dawn will be able to sweeten her morning milk with a great dollop of baked pumpkin whisked up to a froth, a flavor she’ll tire of quickly, but enjoy the novelty of for the week or so it’s new.

But for now, she’ll enjoy the fruits of her little girl’s labors, the first round of hours of meticulously panning through near mud and tirelessly grinding rock hard spices in her little girl size pestle, a past time Delta Dawn herself partook as a child, and savored the once a year treat all the more for.

Quick as a whip, her hand shoots out and grasps the wrist of the little hand creeping up over the edge of her side table, making not for her drink, but for the still untouched slab of cornbread, frosted liberally with butter, on the little tin plate next to it. No doubt the smell of it baking was what woke the little terror, and Dawn cracks just enough of an eye to stare the child down.

An approximation of dressed, in the very same pair of dirty denim she’d been in before bed, but that was well enough when she’d just dirty a newer pair just as soon. Still in her night cap at least, which was a relief. She was just getting old enough to know better than to go out without her hair properly braided, and the tender headed rug rat had been putting up a fuss lately that her Auntie was in no mood for.

“Not for you.” Dawn puts down in her sternest voice, and the frown she gets in return lets her know it’s gonna be a fightin day. “Now go wash your face for breakfast.”

“Already did.”

“You most certainly did not, I can see the crust of your eyes from here.”

A grumble, a put upon sigh, and she waits one beat, two, before her hand shoots out again.

“Not,” and rather than grabbing, this times it’s punctuated with a swat “For you.”

Old Daisy cackles across the road instead of minding her own business, covering little Clamper’s growl, but get she goes, and Dawn lets herself fall back into the last scant moments of peace she’ll have in the day.

Her swattin hand does not give Clamper’s a third chance to listen when the girl gets her gumption up again for another try. Rather, the goodly Mayor smirks up the ceiling, and then meets that smirk to Old Daisy’s own at the sound of content chewing. Dawn take a slab of cornbread herself, warm from the oven and rich with butter and cinnamon, and hotter than the devil’s sweat with a thick spread of time soured chili paste hidden under the butter. Dawn’s own face immediately flushes with the heat and pungent vinegar, and she sees the very second her unsuspecting child realizes what she’s done to the treat.

Old Daisy joins her in a cackle far to loud for the morning hour as the little girl hops impotently and hollers through her nose, breathing fire and spitting mad for it. When the hollering goes just to the side of whimpers that Dawn knows means the heat is to much, she scoops up the mason jar of spiced Bugfaloo milk she’d hid in the shadow of her chair and pops the top, unbothered when the little one hops onto her front right knee with force set to bruise and lets her have the jar.

“You’d think you’d listen by now.” She coos as she let’s the girl drink and swish away the offensive burn. Delta Dawn waits until Clampers spits out a long stream of milk over the edge of the porch and keeps drinking before she eases off the nightcap and pulls a comb from where it was tucked up in her own massive mane, beginning the meticulous task of splitting the great mess into something resembling locks to braid.

“Wasn’t funny.” Comes the pettish reply.

“Was a little funny.” If only because she knew the little girl couldn’t help herself. Indeed if she’d gone and listened and washed her face, she would have found her own little pan of bread, dirty brown with her hard won spices and half a cup of sugared cream to dress it with, sitting warm on the stove.

Instead, petulant but passive, the little girl whines, but lays her head just above her Auntie’s bosom. The angle is awkward as she tries to wrangle the bright orange bristles her ward calls hair, but a great wave of matronly love washes over her anyways.

“I’ve always got a smiling face.” She starts, letting the little rhythmic something hiding in Old Daisy’s knitting needles bubble up as a tune. It’s just a little snip of a thing, not quite whole, but coming none the less. “Any time and anyplace. And anytime they ask me why, I just smile and say.”

She holds the note, tugs a pigtail as she ties it off until Clampers is looking at her.

“You’ve got to-” And with that, she smacks a kiss onto the part she’d created as she gathers the other half of marginally tamed hair. “Kiss an angel good morning.” There’s more to the tune she’s sure, but it’s all she needed to get a giggle and a spot of forgiveness for her trick.

[exit-goat]

Between Friends

To say, “you met me at a very strange time in my life,” would be an understatement for Fiona and Charlie. Fiona’s life had come crashing to a halt, and Charlie, well his just got turned upside down. They’re lost, looking for someone to anchor them down, to keep them afloat. Will they help guide one another out of the wreckage or lose even more along the way? Only time will tell.

Chapter 1: Perfect Strangers (x)

Chapter 2: Penny for your Thoughts

CW: tipsy!Charlie, drinking, lingering glances, angst, mentions of cancer, mentions of parental death, mentions of divorce, lingering touch, dialogue heavy, mature language, the very briefest mentions of pussy eating/blowjobs/sex

Word Count: 7k what can I say this chapter kinda got away from me 

AN: this chapter is a doozy, very plot heavy and dialogue heavy. This fic is going to be a sloooow burn so bare with me lol. I really want to establish back story and set the scene first before launching into the NSFW content (there will be smut in this fic, promise) Any and all comments/questions are always appreciated! Let me know if you want to be on the tag list and I’ll happily add you!

***

Charlie turned toward Fiona, the familiar sound of his name being called pulling him out of his introspective daze. He met Fiona's eyes with a confused look.

From this close, Fiona could see each and every freckle scattered across his face. She also noticed the slight signs of ageing. Shallow creases were present at the outer corners of his eyes, across his forehead and around his mouth.

They added to his appearance, made him look more mature and dignified. It was a stark contrast to the fresh-faced image of a young Charlie that stuck out in Fiona's memory.

"Yes, can I help you?"

The deep baritone of Charlie's voice snapped her out of her thoughts. A slight blush crept across her cheeks as her eyes met his. His face was no longer contorted by stress, but there was still an intensity behind his eyes. It sent a shiver up her spine.

"I knew it was you, Charlie. You always did stick out from those around you, huh?"

Fiona joked lightly, seeing if he would work out who was standing in front of him. Growing up in Indiana, she would joke about how Charlie was a beacon in a crowd of people. No matter where he went, he was always at least a head taller than those around him.

Charlie, however, looked more confused than ever. He tilted his head slightly to one side, his eyes skating over Fiona's features.

"I'm sorry, do we know each other? I don't mean to be rude, but-"

"Oh, don't tell me you don't recognize me." Fiona interrupted him, "I know a decade is a long time, but I don't think I've changed that much." She flashed him a knowing grin, then looked at herself in the mirrored wall behind the bar.

She had changed a bit over the years. Living in California, where it was summer all year round, gave her once pale skin a beautiful, healthy glow to it. Her hair had lightened naturally, from dark chestnut mahogany to a lighter auburn colour from the years spent under the sun.

Her facial structure was more poignant. Most of her baby fat had gone away with age, leaving her with a sharp jawline and noticeable cheekbones.

But, besides these little details, Fiona thought she pretty much looked the same. Maybe she was a bit weathered from the stress of life, but she still saw the same young girl from Indiana looking back at her in the mirror.  

She turned her attention back to Charlie, who was looking her over again. His face etched in focus as he studied her, trying to match the face he saw now with ones from his memories.

She was definitely familiar to him. There was something about the way she spoke to him like an old friend. When she smiled wide, a dimple at her chin appeared, causing a crease to form at the end of her laugh line.

Yes, she was definitely familiar to Charlie, but he couldn't quite place where he knew her.

It took him a moment longer, his mind lingering on whatever was bothering him before Fiona approached. But, when his gaze met Fiona's once more, realization washed over his face.

"Fiona Webster." He spoke with disbelief, searching her eyes to make sure he wasn't mistaken.

When Fiona smiled wide at his recollection, Charlie stood from his seat and embraced her in a hug.

That smile brought Charlie right back to his high school days. Memories of lunch breaks spent in the drama room, meeting up in the morning to walk to school, and walking home together flooded Charlie's mind.

His body engulfing her with warmth and familiarity. She reached up and wrapped her arms around Charlie's neck. The smell of his cologne, sandalwood and citrus with a hint of some kind of warm spice (star anise or cardamom maybe??) wafted off his shirt as she let her head rest on his shoulder for a second.

Charlie tightened his grip around Fiona's waist briefly before pulling away. He honestly could not believe that she was here, in this hotel of all places.

When Charlie stood to his full height, Fiona noted that her earlier observations had been spot on. Charlie had filled out his frame. His arms were thicker and more muscular, his shoulders were broader and his chest… it was more substantial, but in all the right ways.

Fiona remembered how boney Charlie used to be, but now, his chest and abdomen had a healthy weight packed on them. To put it frankly, Charlie was huge. He was truly a brick wall of a man.

"You cut your hair…" Charlie said absentmindedly. Fiona was sure he didn't mean to say that out loud.

"A few times since you last saw me, yeah." Fiona chuckled, beaming up at him with a playful smile.

She instinctively tucked the loose strands of hair that fell around her face behind her ears. Charlie let out a nervous laugh before moving to sit back down. Fiona followed and sat down on the stool next to him.

"I just meant that it's shorter than I remember." Charlie felt heat rise to his cheeks as he faced forward. He definitely hadn't meant to say that out loud.

There was a brief silence as the pair took a sip of their drinks. Charlie started fiddling with the label on his beer bottle again, not knowing what to say next.

"I hear congratulations are in order."

Fiona mused, stealing a sideways glance at Charlie. He let out a curious 'hmm?', turning his head to face Fiona.

"Your theatre! I've heard rave reviews about it over the years, Charlie, you're a great success!"

Charlie smiled bashfully, the tops of his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink at Fiona's kind words. He turned away from her, without a word, and took a swig from his beer.

"Oh, don't be so modest, Barber." Fiona teased, "I know you must be proud of the work you've done, the shows you've directed."

"It's a group effort, really." Charlie shrugged.

Fiona scoffed playfully, shaking her head with a smile playing at her lips. Always so humble, she thought to herself. Charlie was never one to hog the spotlight. He always made sure that everyone felt included and celebrated. She was glad to see that he hadn't changed.

"It is! I wouldn't be where I am today without the amazing work and attitude of the cast and crew." Charlie defended, smiling at Fiona.

He paused, taking another sip from his drink.

"Everyone puts a lot of effort into every production. They do amazing work, really."  

"So what is the great Charlie Barber doing in Los Angeles, hm? Scouting new talent? Opening a new theatre? Expanding your empire?"  

Charle smiled lightly at the goofiness and grandeur of Fiona's questions, but it didn't reach his eyes. That same intensity that Fiona had seen before had returned.

"It's… complicated," Charlie mumbled while signalling to the bartender for another round, "I don't want to bore you with the details."

A quiet lull swept over them, neither of them speaking. They sat together, idly sipping at their drinks. Fiona was trying to find a way to bring up whatever was plaguing Charlie without seeming intrusive or coming across as pushy.

It had been ten years, and Charlie had no reason to divulge his personal life to her. They had been friends for a long time, though, and Fiona couldn't help the concern she felt for him.

After all, they had been with each other during the roughest times of their youth. That would always mean something to Fiona. No amount of time or distance would diminish that.

"How have you been? L.A treating you well?"

Charlie's voice broke the silence causing Fiona's head to turn. She had been so wrapped up in thought that she nearly forgot he was still sitting there.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, L.A has actually turned out to be better than I thought it would be." She smiled fondly, thinking about all the memories she's made in this sunny city.

"And while I'm no star-studded director like yourself -" she teased, nudging Charlie's shoulder with her own, "- life has been kind to me."

"Oh yeah?" Charlie nudged Fiona back, a broad grin on his face. "That's good, I'm glad to hear it."

He looked quite sincere then like he genuinely meant what he said, like the words spoken were not from a place of kind pleasantries but from a place of truth. Fiona mumbled a quiet 'thank you' turning away as she felt a slight blush creep across her cheeks.

"Did you ever go back to school? After you left New York? I remember how devastated you were when you had to leave."

Fiona shifted in her seat. The memory of university and New York made her heart ache. She let out a nervous breath, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"No, I uh, I never continued school over here." She fiddled with the straw in her drink while she spoke, not looking at Charlie.

"It's not that I never wanted to go back to school because I did, and I still do! I just… there was just never a good time to go back, you know?"

Fiona looked over to Charlie, who nodded in agreement, before continuing.

"And between taking care of my mum and work, and just life in general, I wouldn't have been able to even find the time to attend classes, study and do homework and…"

Fiona trailed off, realizing that she had started rambling. Whenever school and university was brought up, Fiona had a tendency to get defensive.

It probably stemmed from her guilt of having to leave school in the first place. She really had no reason, though, to get defensive. She left school for admiral reason, to fulfill her familial duty.

She was so excited. Attending NYU had always been a dream of hers, one she and Charlie talked in-depth about during their high school days. Fiona loved New York, loved the bustling crowds and the sounds of heavy traffic.

She graduated high school a year after Charlie did. When she finally got to the city, Charlie was her personal tour guide. He took her to all his favourite places around the city.

Her first year of university was everything thing she hoped it would be, and more. She had met some fantastic people and learned so many new things. She quickly fell in love with New York and all it had to offer, but unfortunately, life had other plans for her.

About halfway through her second year of school, Fiona's mum got really sick. With her dad out of the picture, it fell on Fiona to be the one to take care of her mum to make sure she wasn't alone.

Fiona left New York with a heavy heart. All of the possibilities of her future and the beginnings of the life she was building for herself faded quickly in the rearview mirror as she taxied to the airport.

Fiona sighed to herself, stealing a glance at Charlie.

"Hey, I totally get it. Life loves to throw curveballs." He gave her an understanding smile. "How is your mum, by the way?"

Fiona chewed the inside of her bottom lip. She knew this would come up, knew Charlie would ask about her at some point.

While Fiona had made peace with her mum's death during the many rounds of chemotherapy, it was hard to talk about.

"She uh… Actually, she passed away a couple of weeks ago."

Charlie reached over, placing a hand on Fiona's back and soothingly rubbed circles between her shoulder blades.

"I'm sorry to hear that." He spoke softly, then, his gaze turned downward. He hadn't seen Ms. Webster in a long time, something he now wished he could apologize for. He never meant for so much time to pass without reaching out.

"She was always very kind to me, something I'll always be grateful for. Honestly, I don't think I would've made it through high school if it weren't for your mum taking me in, letting me sleep in the guest room when things got bad at home… she was an amazing person, Fiona."

"Yeah, she was." Fiona smiled meekly at Charlie before turning away.

She could feel tears start to form and collect at her eyes' waterline, threatening to spill over. She directed her gaze up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly, willing the tears to go away.

This is not the time or the place she thought to herself, as Charlie continued to trace soft circles across the expanse of her back. Fiona cleared her throat before speaking again.

"Yeah, my mum loved you, considered you to be one of her own. She would always say that she'd just pack up your things one day and steal you away to come live with us."

"That sounds like her." Charlie chuckled while Fiona's face broke out in a grin.

"I think she may have even looked into ways she could adopt you."

The pair giggled some more and continued to reminisce about their shared teenage years. The topic changed to their time in high school, how they would spend lunch breaks in the drama room and the many many misadventures of their science teacher Mrs. Horowitz, who always managed to set something on fire during lab days.

They recounted the many late-night movie marathons they would have whenever Charlie stayed over on weekends. How they would morph into sincere heart to hearts out in the backyard, under the night sky.

Fiona and Charlie quickly fell into a rhythm as their conversation continued on into the late-night hours. There were no more awkward silences or weird disjointed topic changes.

Talking with Charlie felt effortless, Fiona noticed. She hadn't realized how much she missed him before now. Sure, she thought about him in passing from time to time, but her thoughts never dwelled on him or the past for too long.

The drinks continued to flow along with their conversation. Fiona was currently working on her third vodka tonic of the night, and Charlie was halfway through his sixth beer. Fiona was definitely feeling a little buzzed at this point, and she was sure that Charlie was, at the very least, a little tipsy.

You wouldn't know it just by looking at him, but Charlie was a lightweight. He always had been. The sheer size and magnitude of his body would have most people convinced that Charlie could handle himself, but Fiona knew better.

If past experience wasn't enough to be sure of his drunkenness, his demeanour gave his definitely gave it away. During one of Charlie's stories about his son, Henry, he had unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt, exposing his white undershirt.

Fiona's musings, and Charlie's story, were interrupted by the sound of Fiona's ringtone.

"Shit, sorry," she mumbled to him, fishing into her pants' back pocket for her phone.

When she pulled it out, she saw the name DANIEL WEBSTER flash at the top. Her brows furrowed, and a huff of air involuntarily escaped from between her lips.

"Do you need to get that?" Charlie inquired, stealing a quick glance over Fiona's shoulder.

"Hmm? Oh, no ", she turned the ringer off and set the phone down on the bar before turning her attention back to Charlie, "it's not important."

"I take it you and Dan still aren't on good terms, huh?"

Fiona scoffed and shrugged her shoulders, "I honestly don't think my brother and I have ever been on good terms."

Charlie's eyebrow quirked up, and he let out an amused hum. There was an alcohol-induced grin playing at his lips as he faced forward to sip his drink.

He silently agreed with Fiona, thinking back to the few times he interacted with Dan. Charlie remembered how, no matter what the situation was or the topic of conversation, Fiona and her brother were always on opposing sides.

It's now, or never Fiona thought to herself, taking in Charlie's appearance.

He looked relaxed for the first time since Fiona had sat down. His elbow rested on the polished wood bar top, and his head was propped up by the palm of his hand.

She'd only have one chance to bring up whatever was troubling her estranged friend, and it had to be now as they both let a comfortable silence sweep over them.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Fiona asked while leaning on the bar, mimicking Charlie's position.

Charlie's eyes flicked toward Fiona, the grin still present on his face. He let out a light chuckle as he replied, "what?"

"I can tell… or at least it seems like something's bugging you." Fiona paused, searching Charlie's features.

"Or at least that something is weighing on your mind. I could tell from the other side of the bar."

Charlie stayed silent, watching Fiona closely. The intensity returned to his eyes, and it was too much to bear. Fiona adverted her gaze to her free hand, as her fingers traced along the ridges and grooves on the bar top.

"Obviously, you don't have to tell me. I mean, we're practically strangers, but -"

"We're not really strangers, though, Fiona. Never were." Charlie interjected, causing Fiona to tear her focus from her fingers' movements to look up at him.

"Right," she said, holding eye contact with him before dropping her gaze back down.

"Well, either way, I guess… I just, I thought that maybe you'd want to talk about it with an unbiased third party, you know? Maybe I could offer some insight, or even just be a pair of ears who'll listen without judgement."  

Fiona shrugged her shoulders, not daring to look up at Charlie. She was worried she stepped over a line, crossed some boundary of Charlie's without realizing.

On the other hand, Charlie was surprised and touched that she wanted to help him, even after all this time. It caught him off guard a little bit, to know that Fiona could still read his body language. It was as if the past ten years had never gone by. As if they hadn't fallen out of touch.

"You're right…," Charlie sighed.

Fiona glanced up at him then, her eyes studying his face. She stayed silent as she leaned off the bar, straightening out her posture, waiting for Charlie to continue.

"Can you keep this just between us?" Charlie knew that is was foolish to ask such a thing. He knew even before the question had left his lips, but he had to ask, just to be safe.

He knew that whatever he told Fiona, she would keep it to her self. She had proven that a thousand times over in the years they had known one another.

"Who am I going to tell?" Fiona teased lightly because, really, who was she going to tell? Her only confidant was her mum, and it wasn't like she and Charlie shared many mutual friends.

Charlie held her gaze; each muscle in his face was set and rigid. The stern look he gave her caused Fiona's smile to drop a little. She gave a curt nod and said,

"Just between us."

Charlie relaxed a little, letting out a deep breath. He sat up a little straighter and ran a hand through his hair.

"Nicole, my wife, is here in L.A for a new project she's working on, and she brought Henry down with her a couple of days ago."

Charlie paused for a second, his fingers absentmindedly twisting his wedding band around his ring finger.

"I got in today, and I thought that we'd have some family time, see Nicole's family who lives down here, and just have a nice mini-vacation before I have to go back to New York."

Fiona nodded her head, listening intently and watching Charlie closely. He was starting to tense up again. His shoulders were pinched up together, and his brow was furrowed as he recounted the events that took place earlier in his day.  

"Anyway, I finally get to the house after being stuck on a plane for five hours. I'm not even in the house for more than 10 minutes when I'm served with fucking divorce papers, by my own sister in law!"

Charlie let out a huff of air, wringing his hands together.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Charlie." Fiona tried to console him, reaching over to rub circles on his back.

The corner's of Charlie's mouth quirked up the tiniest bit at the returned gesture. He gave Fiona a small smile while trying to get his breathing to return back to normal.

He hadn't meant to get so worked up about this, and he conceded that Fiona was right; he did need to talk about it. If he didn't, he would just bottle it all up to fly off the handle at some unsuspecting person later on down the road.

"No, don't be sorry. This has been a long time coming, actually, something we were already in the processes of doing."

Fiona nodded.

"The thing that really gets me is that we both agreed, at the start of all this -" Charlie gestured in the hair with his hands, "- to not get lawyers involved. We agreed that we'd use mediators and figure it out ourselves… peacefully, amicably."

"Mm, divorce can be tricky like that," Fiona spoke softly as she continued to rub circles on Charlie's back at a slow, but steady, pace.

"You say that like you speak from experience." Charlie looked up at Fiona, who offered him a small consoling smile.

Her eyes held a touch of sadness to them, and what Charlie thought to be guilt.

"Were you married?"

The hand on Charlie's back stilled for a moment as Fiona's gaze drifted around the room before meeting Charlie's once more.

"I was, yeah. But, uh, not for very long."

Charlie's eyebrows shot up at her confession, "You were married? Really?"

Fiona nodded her head.

"I thought you always said that you weren't the marrying type."

"I'm not. My marriage proved that." Fiona let out a small chuckle, shaking her head at Charlie.

Her hand left Charlie's back to push her hair back behind her ears.

"How long were you married?"

"Just a year. I couldn't let it go on past that, it wouldn't have been fair."

She cast her eyes downward, settling on studying the stripes on Charlie's button-up instead of looking him in the eye.

"When did you realize…" Charlie trailed off, not knowing how to phrase the question.

Fiona understood, though, what Charlie was getting at. "When did I realize that I didn't want to be married anymore?" She offered.

"Honestly, the moment he proposed, and the moment I said yes, was the moment I realized."

There was a brief pause, and then Fiona continued, "And before you say anything, I tried really hard to make it work. Joseph, Joe, was such a sweet guy. He was always so patient and understanding with me. Not to mention he was a dream when it came to stuff with my mum, and I really did love him. It's just…"

She trailed off, looking up at Charlie again. He was studying her, looking at her so intently and focused. There wasn't any hint of contempt or disgust in his eyes, like she had anticipated, so she continued.

"I never felt like a… like a bride. I didn't get any butterflies when trying on dresses or arranging things like the floral centrepieces or the napkins' colour. I didn't get nervous the night before or when I was walking down the aisle. And I know I shouldn't have gone through with the wedding, let alone stay married for a year."

Fiona sighed, "I just desperately wanted to make it work, for Joe and for me. It's just not who I am, you know?"

Charlie nodded, "You can't force these types of things."

"Anyway, to make a long story short, I told Joe, and he did not take it well. He filed for divorce, and we had a long and lengthy battle over our mutual assets and who gets what. In the end, he got most of it. Which was fine with me because I effectively wasted a whole year of his life. He deserved more anyway."

"Long and lengthy, huh?" Charlie's voice cut through the thick fog of shameful memories that clouded Fiona's mind.

"Yeah, but I'm sure yours won't be like that! Your divorce will probably just fly right by, quick and easy."

Charlie's face broke out in a wide toothy grin. It was just so absurd, describing divorce as 'quick and easy.' He couldn't help the giggles that escaped him.

"Here's hoping," He said, raising his beer bottle to Fiona, who, in turn, raised her glass.

"So, do you have any advice for me? Having been through this yourself."

"I guess I would tell you to try not to escalate things, learn when and what to concede on."

Fiona shrugged her shoulder, "I don't know, just try to remember that regardless of how it plays out and who gets what, that you and Nicole were once in love. Remember that your relationship wasn't always where it is now."

Charlie sat silently for a while, mulling over Fiona's words. While he had heard them many times before, from marriage counsellors, mediators, friends, and family members, it sounded more convincing when Fiona said it.

Maybe it was because she had been through it herself. Or perhaps it was because Fiona had this convincing way about her. She could get anyone to believe that the sky was actually green just by stating it matter-of-factly. Whatever the reason, Charlie made a point to commit her words to memory.

The silence between them was broken by a loud and amused snicker from Fiona.

"God, when did we get so old!" She exclaimed with a shake of her head and a broad smile playing at her lips, "I mean, the last thing I ever thought we'd talk about is divorce, and yet…"

It was just so absurd to Fiona. She was sitting next to one of her oldest friends from high school, talking about something as grown-up as divorce proceedings. She couldn't help the giggles that slipped out of her; the more she thought about it.

Really it was a normal thing that happened to everyone, getting old. Still, she never really thought about Charlie getting older and having older people problems. And she especially didn't imagine this is where she'd be at this point in her life.

At twenty, Fiona never thought that at age thirty-four, she'd be starting her life over again, lost on what to do next, or where to go, a university drop out, and living in California.

From beside her, Charlie let out a deep chuckle as he watched Fiona, her shoulders shaking as she tried to suppress her laughter. Charlie knew precisely what Fiona was getting at. He was no stranger to the existential dread of a life half lived.

Charlie had many late, sleepless nights. Nights where he would toss and turn in bed, his mind full of the endless anxiety that his best years were behind him.

"Tell me about it," Charlie spoke once Fiona's giggles died down. "It's like one morning I woke up, and I'm suddenly thirty-five years old, like I aged overnight."

Charlie shook his head, a grin plastered on his face. Usually, he would pity himself for his life's dullness thus far, but the alcohol in his system has crossed the wiring in his brain. At this moment, he found the lack of excitement in his life as amusing as all hell.

"I never did anything fun when I was in my twenties," he stated. "I never had any wild nights or one night stands. I never did any of the experimenting you can get away with when you're young."

Fiona nodded along, listening attentively.

"I didn't do any of the fun, reckless shit you're supposed to do. No, I spent the majority of my twenties worrying about bill payments and mortgages, life insurance and being a husband."

Charlie let out a breath he didn't realize he was holding, his gaze directed at his hand clasped around his beer bottle.

He had never admitted these feelings to anyone, not even to Nicole. But, confessing his feelings to Fiona felt… freeing, even more so when he lifted his gaze to see her nodding and smiling at his words.

"Tell me about it!" She replied, perhaps a little too loudly. The remaining patrons surrounding them turned their heads at the abrupt, disruptive noise, but Fiona paid them no mind.

"It's hard not to feel like your best years are behind you, especially when you had to grow up faster than those around you." She said, consciously lowering the volume of her voice a little bit.

Fiona had never met anyone her age that felt the same way about their twenties. All of her peers only had good things to say and funny stories to tell about how they spent their twenties.

All around her, people told stories about their crazy one night stands, pregnancy scares, partying, and the places they travelled too. Fiona never did any of that. She didn't even go anywhere outside of L.A for her honeymoon.

"I spent my twenties and nearly half of my thirties taking care of and being responsible for my mum. While I'm so grateful for the time that I had with her, I just wish… I wish that the responsibility didn't fall onto my shoulders."

God, that makes me sound like such a terrible person, she thought to herself, taking a sip from her drink to busy herself and avoid eye contact with Charlie.

"I know what you mean," Charlie spoke, causing Fiona to snap her head up to meet Charlie's gaze.

"Don't get me wrong," he continued, "I loved building the theatre from the ground up and working through all the problems that came up during its development, but sometimes I feel like the stress of it all shaved a good ten years off my life."

He chuckled to himself, taking a final sip of his beer and setting down the empty bottle on the bar top.

"And being a husband was… rewarding in its own way. I learned a lot, through being married, about partnership and responsibility."

The bartender walked over to the pair, interrupting Charlie's next thought. He picked up the empty beer bottle and Fiona's empty glass.

"It's last call," the bartender spoke, as he placed the glass and bottle somewhere under the counter. "You two need anything else?"

Fiona turned to look at Charlie, who gave a slight shake of his head, then turned back to the young bartender who stood in front of them.

"No, we're ok, thank you," Fiona answered, flashing an appreciative smile at the man, who gave a curt nod before leaving.

"There's just more I wish I'd done." Charlie continued, "I don't know. I guess it just feels like I missed out on a lot of things because I got married so young."

Fiona tilted her head to the side, her eyebrows furrowing together.

"Like what? What sort of things?" she inquired.

"Well, like, Nicole and I, we never, we uh we never…" Charlie trailed off, his eyes darting from Fiona to just about anywhere else.

Fiona's eyebrow lifted, and her eyes narrowed slightly. "You never… what?"

"We never…" Charlie started again, his eyes still dancing around the room, trying to find a focal point.

He glanced over at Fiona, her eyes wide and expectant. Charlie just sighed and mumbled, "it's embarrassing."

"Oh, it can't be that bad." Fiona playfully nudged Charlie's shoulder.

Charlie shook his head lightly, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

"C'mon Barber, you have to tell me now." Fiona urged lightly.

Charlie shook his head again. This time, a light chuckle escaped him.

"Besides, it's just me." Fiona continued with a wave of her hand, "who am I going to tell? And it's not like I'm the walking, talking poster-child for an avid social life either. So, I'm probably in the same boat."

Fiona shrugged when Charlie met her gaze. There was a coy smile etched on her face, her eyes filled with sincerity.

Charlie sighed, "We never did anything.. adventurous in bed."

The words were just barely above a whisper. If Fiona wasn't sitting directly beside Charlie, she probably wouldn't have heard him.

"That's completely normal, Charlie. Most couples don't have sex 50 Shades of Grey sty-"

"No, you don't understand," Charlie interrupted with a shake of his head, "We only ever had sex using two, maybe three, of the most basic positions."

Charlie glanced over at Fiona for the first time since his confession. Her eyebrows were shot up in surprise, and her jaw hanging open, lips forming into a little 'o' shape.

Charlie nodded his head and shrugged, "Yeah, I know."

Fiona's face quickly dropped, making Charlie chuckle. She didn't mean for her facial features to portray her surprise so blatantly. It was just so shocking and not at all what she assumed at first.

Fiona's mind was reeling with questions. She wanted to ask Charlie which positions he was talking about. He must be talking about the more fun basic ones, right? Surely he didn't mean they stuck to variations of the missionary position.

Fiona went to speak, to reassure her friend in some way. But each time she opened her mouth, the words died on her tongue. She was genuinely dumbfounded, at a loss for words. So she sat on the barstool, her mouth opening to speak and then closing again periodically.

Charlie stared at Fiona as he watched her process the information he just gave her. He could practically see the wheels turning in her head, her eyebrows furrowing together slightly, and her bottom lip snagged by her teeth.

He tried to suppress the small chuckles the rumbled out of his chest as he watched Fiona at a loss for words. This was someone who always had a comeback, a word of encouragement and kindness. Charlie had never seen Fiona rendered speechless before.

After quite some time, Fiona spoke, "Not even any foreplay?'

The question was quiet, mumbled, and laced with a tone of awe or wonderment. Charlie wasn't sure she had meant to say it out loud.

His suspicions were proven to be right when Fiona looked up at him sheepishly, a bright red blush spread across the tops of her cheeks.

Fiona looked away from Charlie, tucking her hair behind her ears.

"I don't know if you'd call it foreplay, but, yeah," Charlie replied, shyly.

Charlie could feel the heat rise to his cheeks, but he wrote it off as the effects of the alcohol.  

"What do you mean?" Fiona pipped up, looking quizzically at Charlie.

Charlie cleared his throat, "We only ever did, uh, hand stuff. And only just to, uh, get the job done…"

God, he felt like a grade-schooler again, sheepishly talking about sex. He couldn't even bring himself to say the proper terminology.

"Wait, so you're telling me that she never…" Fiona trailed off, making a suggestive motion with her hand near her mouth.

Charlie just smiled at her, shifting ever so slightly each time Fiona's tongue pushed out against her cheek. The alcohol and lack of food in his system had already fogged his brain, making him slightly dizzy.

At least, that's what Charlie was telling himself. As he watched Fiona, he willed his body not to betray him by sending blood down to his crotch at the lewd gesture.

"Nope, never. Not even on my birthday." Charlie admitted with a longing sigh, tearing his eyes away from Fiona before clearing his throat.

"And she never let me go down on her either," Charlie paused, his mind flashing with memories of him nearly begging to go down on Nicole. "I think that's the one thing I miss the most," he mumbled, half to himself, half to Fiona.

Fiona nearly choked at the blunt honesty of his words. She remembered the way Charlie all but devoured his food like a man who'd been starved for years.

It wasn't long before her mind made the connection, images of what Charlie would look like, feel like, between her legs.

Fiona's thighs clench instinctively at the thought, her cheeks and ears set aflame by a red hot heat. Her gaze shifted to inspect the different bottles of alcohol, lining the shelves behind the bar.

The two sat in silence for a moment, Fiona meticulously observing each individual bottle. At the same time, Charlie fiddled with the wedding band on his finger.  

It wasn't until Charlie caught a glimpse of his watch, catching the time, did he break the silence.

"Shit. I should probably get back." He mumbled, turning his head to face Fiona.

Fiona looked down at her phone, the time reading 10:45. "Yeah, I probably should too, I've got work pretty early tomorrow."

She pushed off the bar, giving her leverage to carefully step down from the stool. Charlie did the same, stumbling slightly as he untangled his legs.

Fiona was quick on her feet, coming up close to Charlie. She wrapped a hand around his waist, putting the other firmly at the centre of his chest.

"You ok?" she asked, looking up at him, while only the slightest hint of amusement on her face.

Charlie stiffened momentarily at the suddenness of Fiona's touch but quickly relaxed into it. Her hand on his chest was so small, yet it felt so stable, grounding Charlie to the spot where he stood.

"Yeah," he mumbled, "just these damn long legs."

Fiona chuckled, squeezing the side of his waist before stepping back from him. Her hand still lingered on his chest, absent-mindedly tracing the buttons with her finger.

"You are far too tall to be sitting on those stools."

Charlie returned her smile, letting out a breathy laugh. He was just about to reach for his wallet when Fiona's hand swatted lightly at his chest.

Charlie looked at her, tilting his head to the side inquisitively.

Fiona smiled, shaking her head side to side. "I've got this. You saved me from an otherwise very boring night."

"Let me at le-"Charlie started, but Fiona swatted him again.

"Barber, let me get the drinks, ok? You are, technically, my guest here in the city of angels, after all." Fiona winked at him before flagging down the bartender to settle the bill.

When she returned to Charlie, Fiona looped her arm around his waist once again. He had been swaying where he stood, not noticing until Fiona was there to stabilize him.

Fiona chuckled again, "C'mon sea legs, let's get you to bed."

Charlie mentally cursed himself for only eating a few pieces of roast chicken and nothing else since his breakfast this morning. At the same time, he let Fiona lead him to the hotel elevators.

"What floor are you on?" Fiona asked after pushing the 'up' button on the wall between elevators.

"I'm on the fifth floor, I think.." Charlie fished around in his pants pockets, looking for his hotel key.

He pulled it out from his back pocket, the number '515' scribbled on the envelope it was encased in.

"Yeah, the fifth floor," he confirmed as they both stepped into the waiting elevator car.

Charlie took purchase against the handrail while Fiona pushed the correct button.

"Looks like we're on the same floor." She smiled at him over her shoulder before hitting the close door button.

Fiona stepped back next to Charlie as she watched the doors close shut.

The elevator gave a sudden jolt upwards, causing Charlie to lose his footing and come crashing into Fiona with a grunt.

Again, Fiona's instincts were quick, and she caught Charlie in her arms, a hand on his chest like before. Only this time, this time, their bodies were touching.

Charlie's legs tangled with Fiona's, and his face was so close to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her face.

The pair locked eyes. They stayed like that for just a moment before Fiona slowly pulled away, untangling her arms and legs from Charlie's body.

Charlie cleared his throat and mumbled a soft 'sorry,' leaning back against the cold metal wall. He stabilized himself by placing his hands on the handrail beside him.

Fiona copied Charlie, settling back into the wall as she focused on the changing numbers that indicated each floor. She placed one hand on the handrail, her fingers brushing against Charlie's briefly.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, staring straight ahead. Neither of them dared to look over at the other, but they would have seen identical blushes spread across the other's face.

Fiona let out a breath when the elevator doors finally opened again. She stepped out, reaching for Charlie's arm as they walked down a nondescript hallway. This time, Charlie leads the way, interlocking Fiona's arm with his own.

"This is me," Charlie spoke, coming to a stop outside his door.

Fiona untangled her arm from Charlie's, turning to face in front of him. The two stood opposite from each other, Charlie leaning slightly against the wall.

He was staring at Fiona, studying her face, with a smile tugging at his lips.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Fiona asked, smirking up at Charlie.

Charlie's smile widened, an amused huff of air leaving him.

"It's nothing, I just was expecting this to be a shitty night," Charlie stated with a shrug, his hands finding purchase in his pants pockets. "And I definitely wasn't expecting to see you again, especially not here of all places."

Fiona's head dipped down, her hands brushing her hair behind her ears. It was a nervous habit, a self soother of sorts, that Fiona had always done. It was something Charlie had always found it to be earnestly adorable, though he never said that out loud.

"Hmm, I was pleasantly surprised to see you too. I, I.." Fiona paused. She wanted to tell Charlie that she missed him, but something inside her stopped her.

Instead, she said, "It was nice to see you again, Charlie."

Fiona flashed Charlie a toothy grin and gave him a light jab in the chest with her finger. Charlie caught her hand in his own before she could pull away.

He gave a light tug on her arm, beckoning Fiona closer to him. Fiona's breath hitched as she looked into Charlie's eyes. His brown eyes were burning with… adoration? Sincerity?

Fiona couldn't tell, but the look in Charlie's eye was warm and welcoming, impossible to tear away from. She had gotten so lost in it that she didn't notice Charlie wrap his arms around her, pulling her into a hug.

She hadn't noticed that she wrapped her own arms around his neck, that Charlie was now smirking at her. Fiona cleared her throat and gave an awkward chuckle.

Fiona let herself relax into Charlie's arms, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Don't be a stranger, Barber, seriously."

"I won't promise."

"I'll hold you to that."

Fiona pulled away, her hands dropping to pat lightly on Charlie's chest.

"Good night, Barber."

Charlie stepped back, his arms dropping from Fiona's waist, go fish out his hotel keycard.

"Good night, Fiona." Charlie smiled.

With that, Fiona turned around and made her way back down the hall towards her room.

                *********

taglist: @hardlyinteresting​ @gurl-ly​

[tonyspep]

and possibly i like the thrill (of under me you quite so new)

a/n: friends to lovers is my favorite thing in the whole world, give me a girl seeing a boy in a new way or vice versa and i will die every time like i've never seen it lol. this was inspired by the poem i like my body when it's with your body by ee cummings. i imagined richard's friend who is a writer to be naomi scott who was in the remake of aladdin and will be in the new charlie's angels. also richard's sisters are mentioned throughout the fic, i don't know their names so i made them up; they are beth and evie.

~*~and possibly i like the thrill~*~

(of under me you quite so new)

pairing: richard madden/you

summary: it is so quite new a thing/or they've been friends for as long as they can remember, now – over the course of three days – they take the leap and become something more

rating: m

well, it seems to me that the best relationships – the ones that last – are frequently the ones rooted in friendship. you know, one day you look at the person and you see something more than you did the night before. like a switch has been flicked somewhere. and the person who was just a friend is... suddenly the only person you can ever imagine yourself with.

gillian anderson -

part one of three

[day one]

You couldn't understand why you were nervous, so nervous that you had gone through two bags of crisps and were currently working through a third as you waited for Richard to pick you up at the airport. There was absolutely no reason for you to be nervous, it's not as if you were some starstruck fangirl who waxed rhapsodic about his bluer than blue eyes or the cut of his jawline. You were his – literally – oldest friend. The two of you having been joined at the hip – basically – since you were born, just a few hours apart in the very same hospital in Renfrewshire and then just two houses down from each other until you both moved away – him to London to pursue acting – and you to Paris for writing.

Now he was Mr. Mega Famous Superstar, everyone in your little town crowing on and on about Robb Stark had a pint at the pub and sat in this very chair.

And you had done well for yourself, also. Starting out low on the totem pole at French Vogue to writing a weekly thing and celebrity profiles before deciding to go free lance and compose a book of observational essays, which – somehow – made the New York Times bestseller list. But that was nothing compared to being recognized all over the world by millions of people.

You couldn't help but shake your head from the stray thought.

While you were far from blind – his puppy fat had long since melted away, revealing the handsome face the public had come to know – he was still just Dickie, your oldest friend who you took baths with, who devoured your mother's chicken korma with gusto you couldn't even manage and your first kiss behind the swings of your primary school when you were five.

Or at least that's what you had to keep reminding yourself of more and more every time you saw him again.

Because the last few years, what was so obvious to the world at large, was getting harder and harder for you to ignore.

The broadness of his shoulders, the obvious strength in his lean but toned arms, how he had a bum a quarter could bounce off of. That streak of pure silver among his tight auburn curls, the way his eyes crinkled as he laughed, his lush lips forming that oh so charming grin with ease.

oh, god you thought, panic setting it. You were basically on the verge of being like one of those people who typed those thirst tweets that Buzzfeed made him read. Richard Madden could run me over with a bus and I'd still suck that dick or whatever and now you were going to spend the next three days in Cannes with him... alone.

fuck you cursed just as your senses were suddenly assaulted by a warm crisp scent of pine and spice and man, making your thighs involuntarily clench underneath you as you prepared for the deep rasp you knew was coming.

“Surrender that extra bag of crisps I know you have and I won't cause a scene, little miss,”

little miss, little miss, little miss...

It shouldn't have – it's something he's called you for so long now, something playful and affectionate because though he isn't tall by the standard of most men, he towers over your tiny barely five foot frame – but your wayward imagination takes over before you can stop it.

The two words – in your head – are rougher, deeper – like a growl from the deepest part of his chest that you definitely haven't thought of and when the bristles of his beard brush against the smooth skin of your cheek, you suck in a deep breath reminding yourself that this was the same man who at age thirteen ran to the corner store for a hot water bottle and emergency tampons for you, that he was your oldest and most dearest friend and you shouldn't be thinking about him pounding you – your legs wrapped around that criminally narrow waist – as he called you little miss.

You turn, expected to be confronted by his ridiculously blue eyes, and your more than thankful that they're hidden by stylish aviators. You laugh at the cap on his head, plucking it off and setting it on your own head as you stick out your tongue, falling easily into the familiar routine of best friend.

“Put that back where it belongs, miss or I'll have to tell the lovely Dr. Chokalingam how the polite, lovely girl she raised is now a little hellion with no regard for manners,” He threatened, flashing those perfectly white teeth as his lush lips twisted into a smile that was too charming for your own good.

You were about to retort – something tart on the tip of your tongue – when suddenly you found yourself swept into his arms. Your face fell into the crook of his neck and you couldn't resist breathing him in, that familiar smell of spice (cinnamon) and pine with that burst of citrus (orange) underneath and something completely Richard engulfed you, and when he pulled back – lifting his aviators – and there were his stupidly blue eyes staring at you, your stomach swooped and it was suddenly filled with butterflies.

“I've missed you,” So honest, so sincere like only he can be and you can't stop the shudder that rolls through your lithe frame.

As he watched you bound into the lavish hotel lobby, your fingers slipping from his as your wide coffee colored eyes took in every inch, Richard didn't know how he was going to survive these next three days.

You were even more beautiful than he remembered, the warmth of the Southern French sunlight bathing you in a glow that had his heart tripping in his chest. You were dressed more than appropriately for the heat the island was known for, the denim cut offs revealing the length of your shapely legs. Though, small in stature, your legs – somehow – seemed to go for miles finally ending in dainty feet that were slid into worn flip flops revealing your gold painted toes that sparkled.

His cap was back on his head – after a bit of a playful wrestling match the two of you had – and now your hair was twisted into a messy top knot, several of the inky black strands framing your face, and he could feel his fingers flex by his side, the want to brush them away and then seal his lips across your pert raspberry pout growing stronger by the second. His feet easily separated the small distance between you, his hand reaching for your wrist and as soon as his fingers closed over your skin, he twirled you, unable to stop himself.

It was so hard to ignore your body pressed against his, your pert breasts pillowed against his chest, the flare of your hips aligned with his waist and your head tucked perfectly under his chin.

“I missed you too,” And it was clearly his imagination because why would you sound breathless around him? He was your oldest mate; the chubby boy who did things like get you emergency tampons and hot water bottles from the corner store, not someone you would ever think of as a viable romantic partner.

Little did he know as he bent his head forward, nose nuzzling the appealing curve of your slim shoulder, you were thinking the same thing. That he would never see you as a viable romantic partner.

In the suite, the studio had booked there were two queen sized beds, but by the end of the holiday the two beds would be pushed together, neither of you knew that yet, though.

“Do you ever get used to it,” You asked softly after you and Richard slipped out of the hotel's back entrance through it's enormous kitchen. “Having to do this? Sneak about? How if a pap snapped away, I'd be called the latest flavor of heartthrob Richard Madden's month?” You tease, nudging his hip with yours, purposefully keeping your voice light, even though your stomach drops.

You can't help but think how lonely it must be for him, now that he's – you can't stop your cheeks from warming – some kind of sex symbol.  Which leads you to thinking about the revolving door of women that have come in and out of his life since he and Jenna finally split. All of them tall, all of them drop dead gorgeous with bodies you could never compete with no matter how many spin classes you took or how many miles you ran.

You bite your lip, casting a look at him from underneath your lashes and your heart aches as you watch sadness creep into his chiseled features. His blue eyes go dull, turning a subtle grey and he shakes his head, carding his fingers through his curls.

“Not really,” He answers, faint blush creeping into his perfect cheekbones. “I don't see myself the way everyone else seems to,” A dry chuckle. “Though, if a pap snapped away at you and I,” There's that charming grin again and his eyes have returned to their usual bright state. That happy blue you could drown in. “I can't say,” He's doing that thing where he stares straight into your eyes and your whole world melts away, leaving only the two of you and your stomach goes swoopy and there are the butterflies and you don't know how you're standing. “I'd be the least bit miffed to be listed as one of the flavors of the month for New York Times best-selling author Ariana Chokalingam.”

Your heart stutters in your chest, that wonderful brogue full of such sincerity, you don't know how you're breathing. Under the faint glow of the lights from the hotel, he looks very much like the young prince he claims he's happy not to be cast as anymore. He's so handsome, you feel as though the French Police should be called and he should be towed away because his looks make him as dangerous as any criminal roaming about.

You stop your wayward thoughts and jab him square in the ribs, breaking yourself out of your little fantasy. “Come off it,” You chide. “I don't have flavors of the month. The paps would just tag me as a mystery brunette on your arm. It was just a book of essays, Dickie,” You roll your eyes and give him another jab. “The cover was mostly pink.”

“Don't,” His tone is fierce and the muscle in the cut of his jaw twitches and clenches as if he's back on the set of Bodyguard playing David Budd. “Don't do that,” His voice changes going gentle, almost pleading as you feel his large palm cup the right side of your face, forcing you to look into his too-captivating eyes. “Ana,” Something only he calls you, everyone else around you defaulting to Ari or your full name. “If it was just a book of essays would so many people have bought it? First in hard cover and then in paper back. Vera and Roshi couldn't have bought every copy. If Beth hadn't told me I was ridiculous, I would have beat them to the punch, anyway,” He laughs and his eyes are sparkling, a boyish and bashful look crossing his handsome face. “Evie will be the first to tell you, I hadn't read a book cover to cover since secondary school when I was required to.”

“Stoooop,” You whine, shoving at him and before you can shove him again, he's caged you in his arms and nuzzles his face against your neck. “It's true. I'll call them right now and prove it,” He insists and you giggle as you squirm in his embrace. “C'mon, Romeo,” You sigh, finally managing to twist out of his hold. “Show me what mega stars do on holiday. Writers only get into the hottest parties and whatnot if they're on assignment y'know.”

Le Vogue was Taron's suggestion after Richard had sent his good friend a quick text. The music – electronica and house – reminded him of the music they used for Ibiza. The club itself was intimate with close quarters, at least from what he was able to gather as all too quickly the the two of you were whisked to the private era, a velvet rope separating you and the other VIPs from the public.

Under the strobe lights, you were even more beautiful to him, and he found himself slipping back into being almost cripplingly shy as if he were nothing more than a school boy.

The flimsy dress you had chosen to wear – after changing from your cutoffs and tee – wasn't helping at all, of course.

The fabric is satin, the straps thin and sitting high on your slim shoulders while the satin clings to your pert breasts emphasizing how they would fit perfectly in the heft of his palms and the ribbon wrapped around your waist shows off how tiny that part of your body is while its slit reaches the top of your thigh, teasing him to helplessness every time you so much as take a step let alone dance.

It's the music and the alcohol, he thinks as you drag him to the floor, grinding and sliding against him, head thrown back to the steady thump of the bass, exposing the wonderful length of your neck. He wants nothing more than for this to be real, for you to want him as he wants you. If not for the French beer giving you a buzz, no one knowing either of you and how it's typical for anyone to be loose with their inhibitions while on holiday, you wouldn't be doing this; touching him, your fingers carding through his hair, then sliding down the front of his body before swiveling your hips in such a way he's not sure he remembers his own name.

How early it is when you finally leave, Richard doesn't know all he knows is you're thoroughly smashed, like utterly blitzed and tanked up and because you're in such a state, you're clingier than you would be otherwise. You can't stop touching him; your hands blindly groping over and underneath his clothes, your roaming hands – at one point – actually grip his ass which makes you howl with laughter as you nearly topple over on your unsteady feet, the heels on your feet doing you no favors in keeping you upright.

Despite being wasted, you still smell of daisies and clementines and when you fall into bed, hiccuping and mumbling how your mother would be thoroughly disappointed in you, he laughs and sets about the task of getting you comfortable to sleep off your drunken stupor.

He's careful of not revealing more of your luscious mocha skin than he has to as he tries to slip your dress away and put on your pajamas. It doesn't help that he's replacing this devil of a dress with shorts that can't possibly cover your ass and a top that doesn't seem like it will cover your entire front, some of your stomach – flat and smooth – will surely be visible, and he curses his parents for raising him to be such a fucking gentleman.

“Nooooooooo,” You whine after he's finally gotten you changed. You're grabbing for him again and he bats your insistent hands away, bending and murmuring as he pushes back several strands of your hair, “Sleep mo leannan,” He urges, his voice soft and gentle.

“Staaaaaaaaay,” Another whine as your velvet lashes reveal unfocused and bleary coffee eyes. But they're soft and warm, somehow, as well and he's never been able to resist you. Going back to when you were children and you always got the last crisp in the bag or the last piece of his Gran's homemade shortbread from the tin. “If you insist, my lady,” Bowing gallantly and you laugh – loud and brash – your head thrown back as if it's the funniest thing you've heard and after stripping to his boxer briefs, he grabs an old tee shirt and slips it on before climbing into bed with you.

You cling to him like a limpet, your every inch pressed against his and just before he falls asleep you murmur, “Thanks for staying, Dickie.”

“Anything for you, Ana.”

a/n: mo leannan is scottish for my sweetheart

@bluesfortheredj @nishanki1

[love-of-fandoms]

Loving You: Chapter 20

Master List

Sorry this is so late!!

Chp 1 Chp 2 Chp 3 Chp 4 Chp 5 Chp 6 Chp 7 Chp 8 Chp 9 Chp 10 Chp 11 Chp 12 Chp 13 Chp 14 Chp 15 Chp 16 Chp 17 Chp 18 Chp 19

Kandomere’s eyes opened at the sound of the door opening, and he squinted to see through the dark. The hunched silhouette of Daryl shuffled toward the stairs, muttering about a medical bill. “$25,000 for a hip surgery, what’s the fucking insurance for, then?” he grumbled, pausing when he saw Kandomere’s bright eyes staring at him. He stood awkwardly for a moment before nodding his head upwards. “Sup.” he greeted, beginning to move towards the stairs before pausing again, looking over his shoulder. “Oh and she knows about the whole… bright bullshit, if you wanna talk to her about magic or… something…”. He veered off to the counter and quickly scribbled something on a piece of paper, tossing $50 on the counter with it and quietly creeping up the stairs without another word. Freya shifted, mumbling. “Huh?”. Kandomere kissed her forehead, shushing her. “Nothing, querida, go back to sleep,” he muttered, and Freya sighed, snuggling back into his chest. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” she whispered, almost immediately falling back asleep. The next time the mates awoke was to Kandomere’s alarm going off, the sound some random pre-installed audiobit that nobody really thought twice about. Freya’s head rose slightly, sighing and pushing herself up and off the couch. She stumbled, being not quite awake enough to have her normal coordination (which in itself was kind of limited-not counting martial arts). Kandomere’s hands shot out to steady her at her waist, surprisingly alert for having just woken up, and once he was certain Freya was steady, his hands released her. Freya muttered a quick ‘thanks’ as she stumbled over to the kitchen to turn the kettle on for some tea. Daryl hadn’t even had a tea kettle until her first girls day with Sofia, where the young girl had been introduced to the wonders of tea and demanded they get a kettle for boiling water. “Tea?” Freya called from the kitchen. “Or coffee?” she asked, and Kandomere came into the kitchen combing his fingers through his hair. “Coffee would be lovely,” he smiled, giving her a quick peck on the lips before moving to the counter and inspecting the note Daryl had left.Thanks for the help FreyaSorry it was last minuteMy mom is fine, it was a pretty low risk surgery, and I know you’re going to ask: it’s fine that the elf is here, I just don’t want anything to do with magical shit-D Kandomere walked over to where Freya was sifting through a cabinet looking for tea and tapped her shoulder, handing her the note and $50. Freya quickly read the note, then rolled her eyes, throwing the $50 back on the table. “He keeps trying to pay me for babysitting,” she explained, seeing Kandomere’s puzzled furrow of his brow. “I have enough money, and a backdoor into my ex-parents’ bank account, I don’t need to get paid to babysit them,” she told him, then tensed. “I just told you, an FBI agent, out loud, that I still use my ex-parents’ bank account illegally,” she mumbled. Kandomere laughed and kissed her temple. “Good thing that that isn’t my division, then,” he smirked slightly. “But yes, it is not a good idea to tell a federal agent that you’re stealing money from your ex-parents,” his smirk widened at the red tint that had creeped from Freya’s face to her ears. Just then, they heard some thuds coming down the stairs, and looked up to see Daryl stumbling down the stairs, rubbing his eyes. “Coffee,” he grumbled, taking the mug that Freya handed him with a quiet “thanks”. His turned his head, once his eyes were actually open, and saw the $50 still on the table. “Ugh,” he groaned, turning to Freya with the bill in his hand. “Just take the goddamn money Freya,” he demanded, and Freya rolled her eyes. “You know, you could use the $50 to pay that guy who gets rid of the fairies!” she groaned, and Daryl’s eyes shifted away from her. “What? Psh… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he mumbled, but Freya just glared at him. “Sherri is going to realize eventually that the fairies are getting at your bird feeder… again,” she said, a threatening undertone to her voice. Kandomere chose this moment to pipe up. “You have a fairy problem?” he asked, and Daryl and Freya both turned to him. “Uh… yeah,” Daryl said, eyes narrowing a bit. “Do you know how to get rid of those fuckers?” he asked, and Kandomere nodded, to his surprise. Both men barely registered Freya’s soft utterance of ‘language’ as Sofia walked down the stairs. “Mix in some hot pepper with the bird seed,” he said, to which Daryl raised his eyebrows. “The fairies hate spice, but birds don’t notice it,” he explained, and Daryl nodded. “Thanks,” he said, seeing Sofia and giving her a quick hug good morning. “Good morning Auntie Freya!” she giggled, giving Freya a tight hug before moving to hug Kandomere, not noticing Daryl’s tensing. “Uncle Kandy,” she greeted, and Daryl literally choked on his coffee, Freya patting him awkwardly on the back. “Kandy?” Daryl stuttered through his laughter, which Kandomere’s icy glare immediately silenced.“Only your daughter and son are allowed to use that name, you call me that and I will make your life a living hell,” he threatened softly, Daryl quickly responding with his hands in the air. “Fuck dude, alright,” he muttered, Sofia glaring up at him. “Language, Freya says swearing in front of children is rude,” she admonished, Daryl sighing and rolling his eyes softly. “Thank you sweetie, now go get ready for school,” he mumbled, pushing her softly back towards the stairs. As Sofia walked up the stairs Freya trailed after her, turning to go get the stirring Charlie from his crib. “Good morning, Sir Charles!” she giggled, lifting him up and smothering his cheeks with kisses. The baby giggled, his face scrunching up as Freya placed a final kiss on his nose. After changing him, Freya came downstairs with Charlie in her arms and Sofia trailing right behind her. “Sofia, hop in the car sweetie, I’ll be out in a sec,” Daryl said, giving her a peck on the crown of her head before turning to Freya. “Do you mind watching Charlie today?” he sighed, and Freya nodded. “Not at all! I’ll take any time I can get with this kid!” she squealed, squeezing Charlie a little tighter to her chest for a second, causing Kandomere’s chest to get a little tight watching her, his heart swelling with admiration for his mate. Daryl gave Freya a kiss on the cheek as he ran out the door. “Thanks! I owe you dinner!” he shouted over his shoulder. “I’ll settle for ice cream!” Freya shouted right back, giggling as Daryl sped out of the driveway in the direction of Sofia’s school. The human turned to her mate, giving him a quick peck on the lips. “Can you give me a ride back to my place?” she asked, and he nodded. “Of course, querida,” he confirmed, awkwardly maneuvering so he could give Freya a proper kiss without crushing Charlie between them. The infant burst into a fit of giggles, Freya quickly pulling away before the spit bubble could get on Kandomere’s shirt. “Let’s go grab your stuff, huh?” she (rhetorically) asked the baby, going up the stairs to his nursery to grab his diaper bag and some other things. Kandomere followed with a fond smile on his face as Freya got ready to go, somehow managing to hold the baby and diaper bag while running her fingers through her hair quickly. Of course, that didn’t go on for long, Kandomere quickly coming to her aid and snatching the diaper bag. “I’ll bring this to the car,” he smiled at her and she beamed right back at him. “Thank you!” Soon the couple and baby were in the car on the road. Since Kandomere’s car was, obviously, not equipped for a baby, Charlie had to sit on Freya’s lap, the human holding him tightly to her chest. Once they turned off Daryl’s street Kandomere leaned over to switch the radio on, some Pink Floyd coming through the speakers. As the cash register clinged and the bassline started Charlie started squirming with a smile on his face. Charlie tried to turn his head to look at Freya, and she ended up turning him in her lap so he could look at her as he babbled along to Money. “Do you recognize this one?” she asked him, having played many albums for him over her numerous times babysitting for Daryl. Charlie’s babbling crescendoed and he let out a squeal. “I’m so proud of you! Liking Pink Floyd! What a good taste in music you have!” she fawned over him, and Kandomere smirked, sparing a glance at his mate. The elf’s smirk turned into a full on smile seeing the smiles on both humans’ faces. Would our kid’s ears be pointed or round? He wondered, not that he would particularly care, he was more trying to picture what their children would look like should they have any. He shook his head to clear his thoughts and turned his attention back to the road. Soon they were at The Floral Sprite and the sprites were rushing from the greenhouse to gush over Charlie. Freya giggled and set him down on one of her work tables, letting the sprites ‘awe’ at him as Kandomere gaped, wondering what exactly was going on. Freya strolled back over to him, filling him in quickly. “Sprites adore babies,” she explained, gesturing to the work table, where some of the sprites had began to relentlessly tickle Charlie. “Ah,” he muttered lowly, tensing as the sprites all froze and looked towards him, not liking the looks they were giving him. “You need to come with us,” Tillie demanded, her and a couple others grabbing onto Kandomere and beginning to drag him towards the greenhouse. “Guys-” Freya began to protest, but Kandomere cut her off. “It’s fine, querida,” he assured, but Freya pouted, unconvinced. “Don’t you have work?” she asked, and Kandomere shook his head. “I’m only on call today, I have no active cases at the moment,” he explained, allowing the sprites to pull him into the greenhouse and begin their interrogation. “Look,” Tillie said, crossing her arms and fluttering up so she was face to face with Kandomere, or, making eye contact at least, with her body being about the size of his face… “We know you’re mates and all, but as per the girl code-” many of the sprites began to giggle, some of them rolling their eyes. “We do need to tell you, if you hurt her in any way, we will take out a hit on you,” she threatened, Kandomere’s eyes widened a bit. “A hit?” he asked. “As in a mob hit?” Tillie nodded. “We have our connections…” she answered vaguely, shooing the elf away as the sprites began to tend to some flowers. Kandomere shrugged, realizing that the somewhat awkward encounter was over, and walked back out into the main store. Upon going through the door, however, the elf paused, trying to process what he was seeing. Freya was squatting at the end of a table with her phone perpendicular to said table. On the table was a huge flower pot holding Charlie, who had a small flower tucked behind his ear as his head poked out the top of the flower pot. After Freya snapped a picture, Kandomere cleared his throat. “What are you doing?” he asked, and Freya turned to him, smiling shyly. “It’s for the website…” she said softly, lifting Charlie out of the flower pot and holding him to her hip. “And yes I have Daryl’s permission,” she said quickly, though the specification was unnecessary. Kandomere smiled and shook his head a bit. “Okay,” he said. “What are you doing today?” he asked, and Freya shrugged.“I’m just manning the store most of the day, I have a couple bouquets I need to put together and I need to get some roses for the single display…” she trailed off, getting lost in her head running through what she had to do for the store.“Can I help with anything?” Kandomere asked, and Freya looked up at him with a perplexed look.“Are you sure?” she asked, and Kandomere nodded.“Of course, what do you need help with?” he asked again, and Freya looked around.“I guess I could use some help just setting up displays around the store…” she mumbled, gesturing vaguely to the various shelves she had set up. Kandomere nodded, going to do just that. Soon customers were coming in and out of the store and Kandomere’s clothes were completely covered in dirt. He didn’t seem to notice, but Freya definitely did, awkwardly shifting. “I could’ve given you an apron,” she muttered as there was a lull in customers at the register, but Kandomere shook his head. “It’s fine, mi amor,” he assured her, pecking her forehead before scooping Charlie up and checking to make sure he didn’t need a change. Freya’s heart throbbed just seeing Kandomere so casually and seamlessly fitting into her life. Just then a customer came to the register, gently placing a hanging plant on the counter. “Your son is adorable,” she smiled at them, Kandomere and Freya awkwardly glancing at each other and then Charlie.  “A-actually we’re just babysitting him,” Freya blushed, ringing the woman up and collecting the cash, going into the register to make change. “Oh,” the woman went on, completely unphased by the discovery. “Well I’m sure you two would have the most adorable children,” she laughed lightheartedly, taking her chage and plant and leaving the store, leaving a blushing Freya and a smirking Kandomere.

Chp 21

[writedisaster]

Get To Know the Muse: Charlevoix Plover

Favorite things.

season:  fall!  give him the harvest time, give him the gold-drenched light of shortening afternoons, give him the smell of fallen leaves like dust in a chapel, give him the PUMPIK SPICE color:  warm jewel tones! a soft burgundy or amber in particular pie:  ohhh that’s a TOUGH one.  he likes apple pie a lot but he’s always willing to try new things! fruit:  apples! ice cream flavor:  blue moon  breakfast food:  pancakes! alcoholic drink:  probably a pale ale?  also rum but the dude is very much a lightweight soda flavor:  cream soda.  yum. scent:  mmm cinnamon and cloves i think!  also bay leaves flowers:  oh this is a toughie.  he likes creeping charlie a LOT- for its resilience and opportunism as well as the scent of its leaves. animal:  the albatross!  but also any sea bird.  but also dogs.  but also cats. movie:  The Breakfast Club or Pacific Rim tv show:  early seasons of the X-Files.  travel shows.  Star Trek, the original series.  there’s no TV show that he’s seen every episode of, though. book:  Bridge of Birds by Barry Hughart superhero:  Superman.  no he’s not basic he just has a thing for good-hearted farm boys.  and that’s valid, babes. fairy tale:  The Lady and the Lion genre of music:  folk, folk punk, north atlantic traditional, shanties, basically anything where he can show up with a concertina and contribute genre of movies:  mmm he seems like he’d like rom-coms, but he gets frustrated by the contrived obstacles that could so easily be resolved or avoided if the characters were trying.  so he’s picky about romances, but when they get him they get him.  he also likes adventure, especially adventure movies that feature strong emphasis on relationships- hence his love for Pacific Rim. genre of books:  Stories where things happen the way they should- where friendships are important, the heroes are kind, and the ending is fair and triumphant.

Pick one.

hot or cold juice or soda tv or movie movie or book late night talk shows or reality tv twitter or instagram trees or flowers philosophy or psychology ocean or lake water park or amusement park cats or dogs fresh water or sparkling water sugar or honey cookies or candy bath or shower morning or night running or walking piercings or tattoos frozen yogurt or ice cream vanilla or chocolate caramel or butterscotch art or music t-shirt or button down text or call ghosts or aliens

Have they ever.

ridden a motorcycle:  ridden one, yes.  driven one, no. stolen something:  he’s been an accessory to theft, but hasn’t directly stolen anything on his own eaten an entire pizza by themselves:  yes.  it was not a big pizza, though. made a prank call:  no broken a bone:  yes fallen asleep during a concert or movie:  i don’t think so?  unless he was watching a movie at home walked out of a movie because it was so bad:  no been on the phone with someone for longer than 2 hours:  heck yeah dined & dashed:  no held a gun:  please do not ask him this question. ding dong ditched:  no gone skinny dipping:  yes! cried during a movie:  all.  the.  time. smuggled food into a movie:  yes lied to get a job:  no practiced lines in from of a mirror:  yes tried to see how many marshmallows they can stuff in their mouth at once:  yes.  results were impressive. been kicked out of somewhere:  probably been on a blind date:  not yet ghosted someone:  no bragged about something they haven’t done:  no said i love you without meaning it:  no!!! gotten in a fight:  he’s gotten in the middle of fights? fallen asleep on a bus:  yes.

Miscellaneous.

how do they take their tea or coffee:  lots of honey!  sugar if honey isn’t available.  cream if possible, but he’s also pretty used to drinking it black.  prefers tea over coffee. what is their ideal date:  talk to him.  let him show you the constellations.  let him make you dinner.  let him make you breakfast, too. what are some of their guilty pleasures:  he... really likes being complimented on the food he makes and shares with others.  which is a guilty pleasure for him bc he feels like he shouldn’t be seeking glory or attention, but there it is. longest they’ve stayed up for:  probably like 36 hours, keeping watch greatest talent:  music!  he can play the concertina, the accordion, the bodhrán, & the tinwhistle.  also has a very nice singing voice- a clear, rich countertenor.  cannot perform anything solo in front of an audience, though- he tried once, when he was with the opera, and passed out due to nerves before he even started his audition piece.  whoops.  mainly he just plays music with his friends and for his friends, or just for himself. strange habits:  big oral fixation.  all his pens, journals, glasses- basically anything he owns with an imprintable surface- it’s got teeth marks on it.  that’s the way it is. first job:  assistant navigator!  which was actually a fake title one of his moms gave him when he was a kid, but he grew into it pretty quick. can they do a handstand:  yes! can they cook:  is?  the pope?  catholic??? do they have allergies:  cats :( but he WILL power through do they believe in love in first sight:  yeah basically?  (he’s quicker to develop platonic feelings than romantic ones, but he classifies platonic feelings as love, too.)  he ALSO believes in love as a slow and ongoing commitment of actions, small and large, every day, all your life.  but as far as he’s concerned that can start at first sight. have any special talents: he can bake bread without a recipe- nay, without even measuring the ingredients- and it will turn out beautiful.  good sense of direction to the point of almost being uncanny.  also, he’s unexpectedly charming for someone as awkward as he is.

Tagged by: @agunthing

Tagging: @allpurposebogeyman, @pleaesure, @agentharrisonofshield, @indelicateloathing, @agunthing (Calloway!), @incubabe, @pickmansmodxl

[thegirlwhowritesfics]

Sons/Mayans favorite Christmas songs? Least favorite Christmas songs? Opinions of the Elf on the Shelf? Favorite/Least favorite Christmas movie? Best/Worst present they’ve ever received? Favorite/Least favorite holiday food? Favorite/Least favorite thing about the holidays? Do they like snow? Do they leave cookies out for Santa? Tumblr only lets people send blogs 5 asks a day- I’m packing as much in as possible. I’m going to make you hate me I swear 😂 Also, picture Happy with a milk mustache.

Oh my god this was intense and I loved it, I think I got everyone and every question, except for least favourite christmas song and movie Cause I couldn’t think of any 

favorite Christmas songs?

Opie/Ez; baby it’s cold outside

Juice/Coco; Santa Claus is coming to town

Angel; Jingle bells

Bobby/Bishop; Blue Christmas

Chibs/Creeper; I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus

Tig/Riz; Santa Baby

Happy/Tranq; it’s the most wonderful time of year

Clay/Taza; Winter Wonderland

Elf on the shelf

Coco/Chibs/Juice/Tig are all creeped out by elf on the shelf, they hate it.

Clay/Taza/Bishop/bobby aren’t really phased by it and don’t really get the point

Taza/Ez/Tranq/Opie are all for elf on the shelf, they think it’s a great idea

Angel/Creeper/Happy think it’s great to torment Coco/Chibs/Juice/Tig with Elf on a shelf they get a kick out of hiding it places

Favorite Christmas movie?

Opie; The Grinch

Ez: A christmas story

Coco/Juice; A very Harold and Kumar Christmas

Happy/Angel; Die Hard

Taza/Bishop/Bobby; It’s a wonderful life

Chibs/Creeper; A Charlie Brown Christmas

Tig; Home Alone

Riz; Loves all those hallmark movies

Clay/Tranq; Miracle on 34th street

Best/Worst present they’ve ever received?

Juice - a custom painted PS4

Happy - an awesome knife

Ez - a first edition book

Everyone else loves cute personalised gifts that you clearly put thought into

Least favourite gift is obviously socks

Favorite holiday food?

Opie; Potatoes, anyway

Ez: Roasted spice chicken

Happy/Creeper/Coco/Juice/Angel; Pie

Taza/Bishop/Bobby; leftovers

Tranq/Chibs/Clay/Tig; roast ham

Riz; Salad

Favorite/Least favorite thing about the holidays?

Everyone loves the parties, cookies and spending time with people they actually like, least favourite thing would be when they end or if they have M.C shit going on

Snow

Opie/Ez/Juice/Angel/Taza/Bishop/Chibs/Creeper/Riz/Tranq - Team Snow

Coco/Happy/Bobby/Tig/Clay - Team No snow

They all leave cookies and beer for santa because they know what’s good for them, no one wants a lump of coal.

Also Happy with a milk moustache is the cutest thing ever

[pitterpatterpot]

Apathy - issue one

F/F (don’t like, don’t read), no explicit themes or warnings.

____

It’s such a nice evening that I can almost ignore the girl with the birds-nest hair talking to Leo on the couch.

“Hey,” Leo glances at me, “this is Elinora, John’s niece? Elinora, this is Kay, my cousin. I’m moving out and your uncle recommended you as someone who’d be interested in splitting the rent of the apartment?”

She gives a nod. I’ve been here for three damn minutes and the girl with a mob of curly brown hair, glasses with a thick black frame and a face full of freckles has said nothing. Just keeps shrinking into her hoodie every time I look at her.

When Leo said he was moving in with his girlfriend I was fine. Until the bastard decided to tell me that he was moving in with her, not the other way around, so I now need to scramble to find a new roommate. 

It’s even less perfect when the only person willing to move in is the niece of the landlord. 

“You really didn’t need to hand in a CV,” Leo grins, looking at the sheets of paper. “But it will be good for Kay to have your contact information.” 

You probably don’t want hear a boring story like this.

“You’re studying botany at Melbourne uni? Cool. Kay is doing an engineering course there too-“

After all, two girls living in Melbourne? You don’t want to hear about my life. I’m a complete stranger. I’m normal.

“But why did you suddenly need to move out of your last place?” 

“I’m not very social,” she fidgets, tucking her hair behind her ear. 

But this girl isn’t.

____

“You need to actually talk to her.”

“Leo-“

“You’re living together!”

“She doesn’t want to talk!” I snap, slamming my cup on the kitchen table. “I swear, it’s like whenever I go near her she runs out of the room! And what kind of a name in ‘Elinora?’ What, are we in England or something?”

Chewing his lip, Leo settles me with a look. “She’s been here for a week.”

“Yeah,” I scowl. “And she never leaves her room. It’s great, I have the place to myself, but she could at least say when she’s leaving so I know she hasn’t been fucking kidnapped-“

The door clicks open, and, like a ghost, Elinora drifts in. She freezes when she notices me, eyes flicking between us before she finally hangs up her wet jacket and troops towards her room.

“Elinora!” Leo twists in his seat. “Got caught in the rain, huh?”

Jolting, she looks back at him, dark eyes soft and questioning. She gives a single nod before ducking into her room.

Slowly, I turned to Leo. “See?”

Shrugging, he slouches in his seat. “You’re both twenty-two, you should have something in common. She’s studying plants, you’re studying…”

“Engines. Technology. The very stuff that’s killing plants!” 

Leo bites his lip. “Maybe don’t mention that.”

“Whatever. I’m bringing Charlie over tomorrow anyway, so if she’s out of the way-“

“What?” Leo bolts upright. “You’re bringing someone over? Jesus Christ, at least give her some warning!”

“It’ll be fine,” I wave him away. “It’s not like she’s going to come out of her room.”

____

“No, Leo,” I mutter, my phone crushed between my ear and shoulder as I force my key into the lock. “Charlie couldn’t come over- no, that is not a good thing!”

I bump the door open with my hip. The lights are still on, rain pattering against the window-

And Elinora is pressed against the kitchen table, holding onto the belt-loops of the blonde girl she’s kissing.

I drop the keys. 

Both their heads jerk to look at me, Elinora’s eyes wide and her glasses nearly falling off the end of her freckled nose, her hand curling around the hip of the other girl, Elinor’s own shirt pushed up to show her soft stomach. 

Shit.

I wasn’t supposed to walk in on this.

“Sorry,” the blond girl murmurs, shrugging on a jacket and pushing past me to exit through the door. 

Am I supposed to stop her? I’m not stopping her. She closes the door, and Elinora straightens her glasses, face as blank as usual.

“So,” I slowly move forward, opening the fridge. “Girlfriend?”

“No.”

Seriously? “Just a friend?”

“No.”

I slam the door shut, and she flinches. “Look, if you want to bring strangers over to screw, than that’s your own business, but-“

“My ex-girlfriend,” Elinora cuts in, gripping her own arms, eyes shining. “We broke up. That’s why I moved.”

“Oh,” Christ, I’m an asshole. “Are you two getting back together?”

“No,” Elinora looks down, scuffing her shoe against the floorboards. “She just… I don’t know. Sometimes she wants me again.”

“Sometimes?” I shouldn’t get in the middle of this, this isn’t any of my business. “What, do you two break up a lot?”

Wrong thing to say. Definitely a wrong thing to say when Elinora curls in on herself, shoulders hunching. 

“Look,” I place the milk back in the fridge, “I’m not going to pretend this is any of my business, but did she ask you to move out?”

Elinora says nothing, but gives a small nod.

“And then she came back here to kiss you? Nothing else?”

Another short, sharp nod.

“Why did you move out?”

“…I wasn’t ready to sleep with her and she said that if we weren’t going anywhere that I should just…”

“Yeah,” I close the fridge again. “That’s not right.”

“I know,” Elinora snaps, head whipping up.

I step back, and she hesitates before her face smooths over once again.

“I know,” Elinora rubs at her face. “It’s just… she’s incredibly hard to say no to. I’m glad that I moved out. She won’t be back again.”

“Right,” I edge towards the stairs. “You know my bedroom is upstairs, right? I mean, it’s basically the attic, but if you need anything…”

I don’t know where I’m going with this, but she gives me a thumbs-up and a small smile. I mean, was I supposed to say more? She’s been here three weeks and that’s the longest conversation we’ve had. 

That girl won’t come back, right? The blonde one?

Elinora probably won’t bring her over again if she’s glad they’re done.

Right?

____

“Can I buy groceries?”

“What?” I twist my torso over the couch, Elinora standing in front of the fridge in the kitchen. 

She turns from the fridge, lips twitching up in amusement. “Can I buy groceries? I want to cook and there’s only milk and an old banana in here.”

“Sure,” I blink. “I just haven’t really gone shopping lately. Get whatever you want.”

“Great,” she bobs her head.

“And some of my friends might come over later to study,” I push my laptop off my lap. “Cool?”

She just nods, and closes the fridge. She keeps asking more stuff; where to put things in the bathroom, where the spare key is and where I like the plates. It’s taken three weeks, but after that girl visited Elinora’s loosened, like she’s relieved. Like she’s finally relaxed.

I don’t like that blond girl.

____

“Where is she?” Samatha grumbles, staring at the front door.

“Calm down,” I yank her back, Leo coughing as she lands on top of him.

Serves him right for taking up over half the couch.

“Didn’t you say she’s been out since nine?” Jack asks, flipping through his notes. “It’s six now.”

“Really? I had no idea. Thank you, oh so much, for telling me the time.”

“Alright,” he glares, and turns back to his book. 

But he’s right; she said she was just going out shopping…

We all whip around when the door opens and Elinora pauses, carrying four large bags of grocery, at all our stares. It’s not pathetic to be relieved, right? 

“Hi!” Jack springs up, skipping over to her. “Let me help you!”

He snatches a bag from her right before she jumps back like a shocked rabbit, eyes wide. Ignoring it, Jack heaves the bag over to the kitchen, laughing and chatting as he does.

I haven’t told him she’s gay yet. I don’t want to spoil the surprise of her turning him down. 

She edges around him, warily glancing at him as she puts all the food away. She wasn’t kidding when she said she’d go shopping; there’s vegetables, meats, flours and spices and packets of other stuff I can’t even name. She whirls around Jack, placing everything into either the pantry of fridge.

I’ve never needed to use the pantry before. Leo and I were both crap at cooking. 

“Hey,” Samantha pouts at Elinora as she walks towards her room. “Want to watch a movie with us?”

Hesitating, Elinora glances to me, than back at her door. 

“Come on,” Jack grins. “We’re picking a Marvel movie.”

“DC is better!”

“Leo, you’re out of the group!”

Elinor creeps forward, and sits next to me, her eyes darting around. I mean, god, she’s like a rabbit on steroids. She looks the part, too. With her darkly tanned skin, nest of brown hair and button nose she just needs to hop away for the look to be complete. I mean, she looks like she’d rather stay in her room forever than sit out here and watch a damn movie.

Leo whistles once she sits besides me. “I never realised how tall you are, Kay.”

“Never realised?” Samantha snorts. “She’s six feet tall.”

“I am not,” I snap.

“Yeah,” Jack narrows his eyes at us. “Elinora, you’re what, five feet and a half?”

“I’m…” she leans away from him. “I’m one-hundred and fifty-six centimetres? I don’t know feet…”

“I’m one-hundred and seventy,” I glare at Samantha. “Not six feet tall.”

“Still pretty tall. I mean, Elinora only comes up to your chin-“

“I might go get my mixer,” Elinora stands, swallowing, edging towards her room. “Can I unpack my cooking appliances?”

Everyone turns to look at me.

Shit.

Has she unpacked anything yet?

“Yeah,” I scowl. “Go ahead. Jesus, you don’t have to ask.”

She practically sprints to her room, the door slamming shut behind her. We can all hear boxes shifting around inside.

“Wow,” Leo frowns at me. “You are terrible.”

“I didn’t know she had that stuff!”

“Didn’t you help her move in?”

I look away.

“Kay!”

“She’s weird,” I hiss, leaning forward. “It’s like she knows everything I’m thinking! She’s here whenever I’m happy and then all nervous and jittery when I’m mad! She must be picking up on my moods or something.”

“I think she’s cute,” Jack shrugs. “In a small, bookish kind of way.”

“Of course you do,” Samantha turns away, and Jack glances at her with concern. 

I’m not even going to begin explaining what’s happening between those two. 

“I’m going back to work,” I pick up my book. “Math is kicking my ass.”

“So nothing new, huh?” Leo pokes my side.

“I am so glad you moved out.” 

____

Shit. Shit, were numbers designed to to make any sense? It’s three in the morning, I haven’t got through even half of my equations, and the more I stare at it the more I swear it’s all just some kind of sick joke. I even had to move upstairs; I can’t keep the lights on in the kitchen when Elinora is trying to sleep. I mean, she goes to bed at nine every night after watering her plants and doing exactly what she does every other night. You’d think she’s some kind of robot with the way everything is-

Okay, yeah, I have to get back to work.

Even if I’m going to fail. Half-way into the semester and I barely know a thing. 

“Um… Kay?”

I turn. Elinora’s head in peeking above the hatch from the stairs, eyes bleary and weirdly large without her glasses. Darker, too. She clampers up, her orange shirt getting stuck in the corner, and she scrambles for a moment before setting it free. Orange is good on her. It shows all the different browns and black in her curly hair, shows how dark her caramel skin is, even if her black freckles stand out all along her arms and face. 

“You look good in orange,” I rest my chin on my knees. “Are you Italian or something?”

Her eyes glance up to me, amused. “My mother was from Brazil. That’s where I get the skin and curly hair. But my father’s parents are German.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. He’s blonde with blue eyes. Everyone always asks if my sister and I are adopted.”

“You have a sister?” I know literally nothing about her.

“Yeah,” she pushes my books to the side. “Isabella. She’s two years younger than me. Want some help?”

“Depends,” I throw my notes down, running my hands through my hair. “Do you understand any of this?”

She spares it a glance. “Yes. What? I’m studying botany, which is plant science. I gotta know some math to make that work.”

“Did I wake you?”

“Yes.”

Damn it.

“Don’t feel bad,” she orders, screwing up her nose. “I was going to wake up anyway. I have insomnia; I usually wake up for a few hours every night.”

“If that why you’re so quiet?” I pass her a pencil.

She’s in my room, biting my pencil while she looks over my notes, holding the page close to her face to make up for her lack of glasses. I must be tired if I’m letting her do this; Leo was never allowed in my room. Never allowed on my bed, or to even look out the giant window. Elinora simply sat down, not even bothering to look out the giant window at the street or at the posters I have on roof. Most people would kill for a room in an attic; I’m away from the noise and it’s bigger than her room, and my big isn’t a single like hers.

But she says nothing. She just reads my notes.

“Okay, see here?” She presses against my side, reclining on my pillows with me. “You’ve put the six in here when it was supposed to be the four. You’ve got the formula right, you just keep mixing up the variables. Probably because of how late it is.”

“Right,” I take my notebook back, and she’s left feedback for every equation I’ve done.

“You don’t talk either.”

“What?”

Turning to me, she shrugs. “Every time I enter the room you want me to leave.”

Crap. “That’s not-“

“I get it,” she cuts me off. “This is your space, and I’m a stranger. And when you’re friends were over you barely said anything, so I’m guessing you’re naturally not chatty. And I’m quiet because I’m both tired all the time and get anxiety around people sometimes.”

“You sound fine now,” I snatch my pencil back.

“I’m deeply sleep deprived,” Elinora grabs another sheet. “And it’s easier for me to talk to people at night, I don’t know why. And you kind of seem a lot less standoffish, so that’s a bonus. Besides, once I spend some time with people it gets a bit easier. It just usually takes me a few hours to work up the courage to talk to someone new, and we’ve technically been living together for a month, and you’ve been nicer, so…”

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” I pass her a red pen. “You know you can put stuff around the apartment, right? Your plants and everything? I’m guessing they’d get a lot better light if they weren’t just shoved in your room.”

She whips around, eyes wide, and I just lean back against the headboard. “Really? I swear that they’re all low-maintenance and you won’t have to water them or anything and I have a herb bowl so it’ll actually save us money and-“

“It’s fine,” I cut her off. “Jeez, you can talk when you’re tired, huh?”

“I literally loose all filters. You know I’ve really hit the wall when I laugh for no reason.”

“Right,” grinning, I pick up a method booklet. “Can you help me work through the last few questions?”

“Of course,” Elinora stretches her legs out in front of her. “I probably won’t be able to go to sleep for another hour or two anyway.”

“Seriously?” 

“Yeah,” scribbling across the page, she crosses out at least three equations. “Usually I read or something. Okay, so I think I can see where your most common issue is. You keep switching around these variable here, see…”

She presses further and further against my side, her body warm and soft. It shouldn’t be as comfortable as it is. 

____

“Mph…”

My arms are wrapped around something warm and soft, a heavy weight on my chest. It’s winter in Melbourne, it shouldn’t be this warm, even with a blanket and a person wrapped over-

Sitting up, I look down, and Elinora just continues to snore against my chest, both of us lying on our sides, legs entangled and somehow the blankets ended up pulled over us and my notes are spread everywhere. 

“I… Elinora?”

“L’me sleep…”

Shit. Shit, what am I supposed to do? She rolls over, curling up, and just bunches the blankets further around her, her glasses on the floor and hair a mess. I could move her, or wake her up, or…

Or I could just leave.

Yeah. I’ll just leave. That’s alright, right? I mean, she’s said before that she doesn’t have any classes or work on Thursdays. 

It’s fine.

____

It’s one. One in the afternoon. How can she still be asleep? It’s midday! She’s just lying there, hugging my favourite pillow!

“Alright,” I drop my bag down and crawl across my bed. “Elinora! Nora! Ellie! Nellie! Lin! Wake up, for gods sake!”

Snorting, she jerks up, blinking moisture and grub from her eyes. It’s kind of funny, she keeps turning around, getting tangled in the blankets, until she finally sits up.

“Oh, hey,” she croaks, rubbing her eyes. “Did you hand in the math?”

“Yeah,” god, she’s ridiculous. “I got full marks. I get to start a project now that my theory is done.”

“Cool,” squirming, she manages to free one leg from the nest, arching towards the edge. “I- wait. What time is it? And day?”

“Thursday. It’s one.”

“Cool,” lurching, she tumbles off the side, rising to her feet, her curly hair fluffed up enough to defy gravity. “So I didn’t miss anything. I’m gonna eat and water my plants… I’m sorry, by the way, for sleeping and-“

“It’s fine,” I chuck pillows back on my bed. “It’s thanks to you that I might actually pass my project.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m learning about transport technology so that I can join the research team once I graduate, so I mainly look at stuff like designing new ways of transportation like how to make it cleaner and safer and stuff. I’m just learning the basics now though.” 

A lot of basics. Like, a lot. Learning about how to research, design and then develop transportation systems and vehicles isn’t easy. It’s fucking hard. 

She widens her eyes. “Really? That’s so cool!”

Wait, what? “But I’m killing the environment?”

“Well, yeah, technology is killing the environment, but you’re working out how to make it safer and stuff! That’s awesome!”

Huh. Okay. Maybe we can talk more about this kind of stuff if she isn’t going to call me a plant-killer.

“Right,” I sit on my bed, crossing my legs under me. “What’s botany like?”

“Oh!” She flitters around the room, looking for her glasses. “Really good! I mean, I’ve always loved plants so that’s fantastic. I’d love to either teach it at a university level but also maybe be a plant breeder? I haven’t really decided yet but not too many people get into the field and more research still needs to be done so if I wanted to go in another direction there’d definitely be openings and-“

She just keeps talking. We’ve been living together for a month, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard her ramble like this before. 

“Sorry, sorry,” she scoops her glasses off the floor. “I’m going to go get some breakfast, or lunch. Want anything?”

“I’m good.”

She patters downstairs, moving as if filled with sugar. Maybe all this time she really was just sleep deprived.

____

“Kay, your friend ran into her room again.”

I slam the pizza box shut. “Stop asking her if she wants to watch a movie with us!”

“I didn’t!” Jack holds his hands up, Leo and Samantha lounging on the couch behind him. “She walked into the room, looked at us, and then bolted!”

I don’t have time for this crap. I shove Jack back towards the couch, knock on Elinora’s door and walk in. She flinches from where she’s curled on her bed, then relaxes.

“Hey,” she closes her book.

“Hey,” I kick her bed-frame lightly, pocketing my hands. “Wanna watch a movie? You won’t have to talk to anyone or anything.”

Hesitating, Elinora bites her lip. “I’m not… good, with groups of people.”

“You slept with me literally two days ago and haven’t stopped talking since.”

A red hue quickly flushes up her neck, reaching and spreading across her cheeks. “That was different. It wasn’t on purpose, and I had to live with you for a month to be able to talk to you like this.”

“True. But if you don’t at least sit with them then you’ll never get used to them.” 

I stare at her; she stares back. I stare harder; she sags. 

“Fine,” Elinora grumbles, dragging a blanket with her. 

“Great.”

She huddles in one of the armchairs, wrapping the blanket tightly around her. We don’t have proper heating in here, and the windows aren’t exactly insulated or anything. It’s either blankets or freeze to death. I collapse next to Leo, snatch the bowl of popcorn from his hands and hold it out to her. She takes a handful, huddling back, and I chuck the bowl back to Leo. He keeps glancing at me weirdly.

Halfway through the movie (something about spies, I don’t know) the main woman talks on the phone in another language and Elinora coughs up half her popcorn laughing. She’s never done that in front of people before, but she just keeps snorting, picking pieces of wet popcorn off her blanket. 

“What?” I can’t help but smile. 

“She’s-“ Elinora snorts again, waving to the screen. “She’s butchering Portuguese! She’s not even saying anything relevant to the movie, the subtitles are all lies!” 

“Wait,” Jack pauses the movie. “You can understand her?”

“Kind of,” Elinora shrugs, picking at a burnt kernel. “She’s speaking European Portuguese, not Brazilian, but a lot of words are kind of familiar. She’s basically just pretending to be talking to someone.”

“That’s so cool,” Samantha grins. “So you’re Portuguese?”

“More Brazilian-Australian?” Elinora shifts further under her blanket, eyes shifting away. “My mum was from Brazil. I went there a lot when I was younger, and lived there for a year.”

“And your dad’s parents were from Germany,” I lean over the arm of the armchair, helping to pick at popcorn. “Do you also speak German?”

“No, my dad only speaks english so I never needed to,” she collects the popcorn I picked in her hands, placing it all in a tissue. “I learnt Portuguese from my mother, and she wanted my sister and I to take classes so we wouldn’t forget the language. My dad didn’t care as much I think.”

“Cool,” I settle back.

It takes five minutes before my phone rings. Samantha passes it to Jack who passes it to Leo who chucks it at me. 

“It’s Charlie,” Leo quips, shoving popcorn into his mouth.

“Right,” I stand. “I’m just going to take this. Want more popcorn?”

“Yes,” Leo shakes the bowl.

“I was talking to Elinora. Get it yourself.”

Elinora shakes her head, and I walk to the bathroom. As soon as the lock clicks closed I answer, sitting on the toilet seat.

“Hey!” Charlie shuffles on the other end of the line. “Sorry about the other night. The movie sounded good.”

“Yeah,” I glance at the door. “How are you? How’s your tech class?”

“Oh, it’s good! I was just calling to ask if you got the notes from the lecture on Friday?”

“Yeah.”

“Would you mind texting them to me? I ended up missing it again!”

This is the fourth lecture. The fourth time I’ve had to send notes. It’s somehow not as fine as it used to be.

“No problem,” I stand. “Anything else?”

“Uh, no-“

“Cool,” I unlock the door. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Alright? I’ll see you then!”

 I pocket my phone in my jumper, and collapse back down on the couch. I snatch the bowl from Leo and hold it out to Elinora again. Smiling, she takes another handful before settling back, huddling under her blanket.

____

“So… Elinora’s cute,” Leo mutters, cleaning the bowl in the sink. 

But she’s gay. “And?”

“And nothing,” Leo glances towards the bedroom door. “It’s just… you’re nice to her.”

“I’m nice.”

“No you’re not,” Leo loads the dishwasher. “But you’ve been nice to her. And she’s opened up a lot to you. And you haven’t seen Charlie in, what, a week?”

“Where are you going with this, Leo?” I scowl, setting a towel down. “Just because she’s another girl living near me doesn’t mean I’m going to jump her.”

“I know that!” Leo whispers harshly. “Just… she seems nice. That’s all.”

“Whatever.”

“I mean it. Does she always cook dinner and stuff?”

“Only when she has time. She’s the reason there’s any food in here at all, especially since she loves to cook deserts-“

“There!” Leo whirls around. “You never talk about people like that! You barely ever talk at all! Between the two of you, you and Elinora should just sit in silence, but no! You apparently talk!”

“She’s chatty!”

“No, she’s not!”

“Not in front of you she isn’t!”

Leo leans back, grinning smugly.

“Clean the rest yourself,” I throw a towel at him, and stalk towards the couch.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll clean up the delicious dinner we just got. Great.”

“Just shut up!”

____

“This café is awful.”

Elinora snorts, sipping her chai latte. “Sure, insult the place we live on top of, that’ll lead to good things. Besides, their chia lattes aren’t bad.”

“We get woken up at five in the morning when they open,” I sip my coffee, nodding to the counter. “That’s the reason why no one wants to live here. Too noisy.”

It’s a nice morning. The sun is shinning, neither of us are busy this morning and, even though I’ve never even eaten here before, it isn’t too bad. They give plenty of cream with their scones. 

Elinora’s eyes flick up at the sound of the doors bell. She glances at me and then away again, slouching back in her chair, holding her mug close to her chest.

“Kay!”

Charlie.

“Hey,” I turn in my seat.

Without hesitating, Charlie walks over and Elinora starts shifting again like she did when we first met. I tap her foot under the table, and she sips her drink to hide a smile.

“You must be Kay’s new roommate!” Charlie pulls a chair over to our table, setting her handbag on the floor and flicking her black braid over a shoulder. “How old are you? Eighteen? You can’t be any older than eighteen.”

“I’m twenty-two.”

“No!”

Elinora sips her drink and glances away. I’ve never seen her so... unimpressed before, except for when we first met and she acted like a robot. Charlie immediately flicks her attention back to me, leaning forward, almost blocking off Elinora completely.

“So,” Charlie waves her hand. “How did you do so well in the last assignments? I need to know.”

“Elinora helped me with the math. She’s a genius at it.”

Charlie looks at Elinora for barely a second before turning back to me, dismissing Elinora completely. “That’s great! Is she also doing a course like ours?“

“No,” Elinora cuts her off, “I’m not. I’m studying botany; you might know it better as horticulture.”

“How nice! What are you planning to do once you finish?”

“Not sure yet, maybe teach or-“

“Ah, if you can’t do it then teach it!”

Elinora quickly looks back down into her cup, a flush creeping back up her cheeks. I know Charlie can be stingy; it’s one of the reasons why I first liked her. But really? Comments like that are... you just don’t knock people down like this. Elinora leans back in her seat, as far away from Charlie as possible, looking like she’s had a bucket of cold water dumped on her.

“Charlie,” I sit forward, “do you need any help with some of our work? I’m sure Elinora would be able to find time to help teach you.”

Charlie hesitates, and Elinora holds back another small smile. Glancing between us, Charlie picks up her bag again.

“I might go do some of that work, actually,” she pushes her seat in. “I’ll see you in class.”

Charlie doesn’t even look at Elinora, much less talk to her, the bitch. Elinora and I sit there for a moment, sipping our drinks as Elinora slowly slouches in her seat once again, relaxed and placated.

“She likes you,” Elinora eyes me. “But you don’t like her. Which is good, I guess, because she’s really vindictive.”

Well, alrighty then. “What makes you say that?”

Shrugging, Elinora wipes at her mouth. “Just trust me when I say that I’m better at reading people than you’d think.”

“You don’t know Charlie.”

“Well, no, but-“

“You can’t judge people when you first meet them.”

Another flush creeps up her cheeks, and her eyes flick away. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“She was out of line, though,” I sip my coffee again. “Sorry about that.”

Elinora grins. “It’s fine… O-Kay.”

I pause. “Did you just make a joke out of my name?”

She smirks, leaning forward. “I don’t know… is that O-Kay?”

“Oh, so original,” I huff, leaning back. “Tell me what ‘Elinora’ means again? Besides being overly fancy?”

“It mean empathetic,” she grins, then scowls. “A horrible choice by my parents, I know. Does your brother have a three-letter name like you too?”

“My brother?”

“You mentioned him. Said he was already graduated from uni.”

“Oh, right,” how does she remember this stuff? “His name is Gray.”

“Gray?”

“My parents were also weird with names,” I lather a scone with cream. “You know, this is actually kind of nice.”

Elinora cackles, tipping back in her seat in glee. “I’m going to hold you to that for the rest of your life.”

“You do realise that you ran away every time I walked into a room, right?” I tease, watching her flush again. “It wasn’t like you were jumping at a chance to hang out.”

“You didn’t like me,” Elinora mumbles, “and you’re not that social.”

“Not true, I’ve been talking to you, haven’t I?”

There’s just something really satisfying, and really confusing, about watching her blush and look away. But she isn’t wrong; I never really talk much, I’m not that social of a person at all. Elinora, though, once she starts she doesn’t stop. Yesterday she rambled for half an hour about the state of the cactus near the window and the birds that were in the gutters. She clamps up whenever other people are around, but it’s nice to be able to lean back and just… listen. I don’t know when things started to change, but this is a lot nicer.

____

“Home,” I dump my bag by the door.

There’s no point in saying anything else. As long as someone else is home they’ll now know that I’m home. And if Elinora is home then she’ll understand that I’m home. Usually she calls back, unless there are other people, in which case she just runs to her room. At least she’s used to Leo now; he and she get along fine whenever he comes over. She’s still a little awkward around Samantha and Jack but she’s mentioned that she likes them so she probably won’t mind if they come over again. 

I pass her bedroom, and hear a hiccup.

Freezing, I turn and knock on the door. “Elinora? Are… are you alright?”

I hear her shuffling on the other side, her voice strained and shaky. “I’m fine!”

Yeah, she’s not. “Are you sure?”

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just a tough day. I’ll be out to cook dinner in a bit.”

“You don’t-“

“I’m just gonna change and stuff,” her voice tappers off in the end, and more shuffling is heard. 

“I’ll do dinner,” I turn away, and troop to the kitchen.

It’s not hard. There’s literally three containers of frozen beef mince in the freezer, all I need are some wraps and to heat the meat up. It takes twenty minutes, and Elinora shuffles out of her room, eyes red and wearing an over-sized black hoodie.

“Is that mine?”

“What?” She blinks at me, holding a sleeve up to her nose. 

“That hoodie,” I gesture, and is my face hot? “It’s mine.”

“No it’s not, it’s-“ Elinora looks down, and winces. “Crap. Sorry, I’ll wash it. I thought it was my black one.”

“You didn’t notice the size difference?” Her eyes are ringed red, what happened?

“Most of my hoodies are big on me, so no,” she pulls in off her, shaking her head free once she does, and carefully folds it over her arm. “Sorry, that’s disgusting.”

It’s really, really not. I mean, the snot part, yeah, but if she needs to wear it...

“It’s fine,” I scoop meat out of the bowl. “Want a wrap?”

“God, yes,” she slumps in a seat across the table, folding her arms on the surface and resting her chin on them as she watches me lazily.

“So,” I pull a packet of cheese and salsa from the fridge. “Wanna talk about what happened today?”

She sinks further into her arms, eyes darkening even further. “It was just a long day at work.”

“Right,” I place the wraps in the oven. “The plant shop?”

“Yeah,” I can hear her smile. “The plant shop. there was just… a lot of people there today. Not all of them were happy.”

“Customers can suck,” I pull out a chair and sit. “I work at Coles, so I know.”

She snorts a small laugh, nodding. “A lady was just really sad today, and it kind of got to me.”

“You say stuff like that a lot,” I check on the wraps. “You really let other people’s emotions effect you.”

Biting her lip, Elinora looks away, voice soft. “Yeah. They really do.”

Dinner is quiet. Work isn’t usually something big to talk about, but Elinora always usually has something to say about her day. If she’s gone back to being this quiet, this secluded, than I’m not really sure what to do. I liked talking to her; she has a wicked sense of humour. 

“I think I’m going to watch a movie on my computer,” she gestures to her bedroom. “Thanks for making dinner.”

“No problem,” I put the last dish away. “Hey, do you want to watch it out here and eat ice-cream?”

Pausing, Elinora eyes the couch. “You know what? That sounds amazing.”

“Great,” I slam the dishwasher shut. “I’ll get the spoons and the tub. You get your computer and a blanket.”

I don’t need to be judged for watching a movie with another girl, under one blanket, with a tub of ice-cream held between us. Even if her side is pressed against mine, her head near my shoulder and crazy hair soft against where it tickles my neck. I don’t need to be judged for this, and I don’t need to try to explain it. She’s nice, she’s smart and she’s chatty. She’s weird and quiet when you first meet her, yeah, but we’ve been living together two months now and she’s just… she’s just fun to be around.

“Can you pass a tissue?” Elinora gently nudges me. “Just so I don’t end up using another one of your jumpers.”

“What a tragedy that would be,” I pass her the box, and our fingers touch.

With that brief contact Elinora snatches her entire hand back and springs out from under the blanket, face flushed and eyes wide as she stumbles away. I stand up, placing the ice-cream on the table.

“You like me,” Elinora blurts, face caught between disbelief and embarrassment.

“Why the hell would you think that?”

Elinora flushes once again, but this time it’s more indignant. “Because I’m an empath, you idiot!”

She throws the tissue, turns on her heel, and slams shut her bedroom door behind her. I watch the tissue slowly float to the ground.

What the fuck?

_____

Going to post the second issue (chapter) soon. I’d make it a webcomic but I can’t draw so eh.