#drew this weeks ago but added shading today

[vallentiina]

< Director! Situation/Crisis/Uh-Oh in the Foundation >

[sixstringphonic]

Treegate Update: No Permit Was Pulled To Trim Ficus Trees Outside of Universal’s Gate 8, Says City Controller

(7/19/23, Deadline)

UPDATED: LA City Controller Kenneth Mejia revealed in a tweet Wednesday that no permit was pulled to trim the now-infamous Ficus trees outside of Universal’s Gate 8.

He added in a thread that “The City of LA’s Urban Forestry Division (UFD) will coordinate w/ StreetsLA’s Investigation & Enforcement Division (IED) to confirm if this case warrants the issuance of an administrative citation or hearing. If issued, the administrative citation fee starts at $250.”

Mejia had previously tweeted that the trees — which had provided shade for picketers during the ongoing strike before they were pruned over the weekend — are LA City managed street trees.

After members of the WGA discovered the thinned-out trees and made a stink via social media, the studio provided tents for additional shade.

PREVIOUSLY:  Treegate just became a thing.

City Controller Kenneth Mejia has vowed to look into the newly pruned ficus trees outside of Universal’s Gate 8, after picketers drew attention to their thinned branches while marching in 90-degree-plus heat. Pine trees on the opposite side of Barham weren’t touched, and neither were a row of pepper trees behind the Universal fence near the production gate.

In a series of Tweets Tuesday, Mejia said his office is investigating what happened to the Ficuses on Barham Boulevard, which he said are “LA City managed street trees.” WGA picketers drew attention to their thinned out ranks on Monday. Universal owned up to trimming them but said in a statement it was done for “safety reasons” though it “has created unintended challenges for demonstrators, that was not our intention.”

“Trees are essential to providing Angelenos with significant environmental and public health benefits, especially during a heatwave,” Mejia said in a tweet. “Public Works’ Bureau of Street Services (StreetsLA) is responsible for maintaining the City’s 700,000+ trees in the public right-of-way.”

He went on to say in a thread that “code enforcement for street trees (including the pruning or removal of trees without a permit) is the responsibility of the StreetsLA Investigation and Enforcement Division. Violations can result in code enforcement citations.”

Separately, the fight over the studio’s construction on Lankershim Boulevard and its impact on the ongoing strike just got even bigger: The WGA and SAG-AFTRA today filed complaints with the National Labor Relations Board over the lack of safe pathways available for union members to picket.

“Within the past six months, [NBCUniversal Media] has interfered with, coerced, and restrained employees in the exercise of their rights under Section 7 of the [National Labor Relations] Act,” the Writers Guild of America, West, said in its filing (read it here).

Said interference includes but is not limited to “interfering with lawful picketing activity by designating as picketing locations areas where the public sidewalks have been covered up with construction fencing, forcing picketers to patrol in busy streets with significant car traffic where two picketers have already been struck by a car and by refusing to provide K-rail barriers to establish pedestrian walkways for picketers to use after Los Angeles Police Department advised the employer weeks ago in the interest of public safety to do so.”

SAG-AFTRA’s complaint reads in part: “On or around Thursday, July 13, 2023, the employer, through its agents and managers, instructed SAG-AFTRA to send its members to picket at the unsafe crowded location, exacerbating the dire public safety situation to interfere with striking members’ right to engage in the protected, concerted activity of picketing and patrolling outside the employer’s premises during a lawful strike.” Read the full filing here.

In response, an NBCUniversal spokesperson released this statement today: “We are aware of the WGA and SAG-AFTRA complaints. We strongly believe that the company has fulfilled our legal obligations under the National Labor Relations Act (NLRA) and we will cooperate with respect to any inquiries by the National Labor Relations Board on this issue. While we understand the timing of our multi-year construction project has created challenges for demonstrators, we continue to work with public agencies to increase access. We support the unions’ rights to demonstrate safely.”

The WGAW filing also cited “the egregious and flagrant nature of the employer’s illegal conduct and the irreparable harm, including the threat of bodily harm, caused by the above-mentioned violations of the Act.”

[thruheavenandhighwater]

Pairing: Eddie Munson/ Female Soulmate

Requested By: NA (inspired by a post I saw months ago but can't find now. If it's your post or you have the link to it, please let me know so that I can give proper credit for the idea)

Word Count: 3,751

Summary: Soulmate AU. Every person is born with a tattoo of the sounds they'll hear when they meet their soulmate.

Stranger Things Masterlist Eddie Munson Masterlist

~~~~~

Birds. 

Fuckin birds. That's all she had to go on. She'd hear birds of all things. What a lousy tattoo. It did make her feel slightly better, though, knowing her soulmate would have the same thing to work with. The same thing being, essentially, nothing. 

She heard birds every single day. How on earth was she supposed to know which birds were the right ones? Which birds would be the ones who's songs told her that's him. That's your soulmate. 

The people in her life told her that it would be easy. They all said she'd "just know." But nobody could tell her how. Nobody could tell her what happened when the right birds were singing at the right time. It frustrated her beyond reason whenever she'd let herself think about it. So, she did everything she could not to think about it. 

She kept herself busy with work as much as they'd let her. Picking up shifts, covering when the other waitresses had to leave, even working holidays to avoid the questions from her family. But when work wasn't an option, she could always turn to art. Drawing, specifically. 

The pages of her sketchbooks were full of random drawings from her day to day. She drew anything and everything that caught her attention. Flowers, shop windows, dogs in the park, strangers in line at the coffee shop. It didn't matter to her what it was, if it caught her eye at a moment that she was able to draw it, it was added to her collection. 

She enjoyed finding beauty in the mundane. Her tattoo had taught her to appreciate the smallest moments in life. She knew that she'd hear birds at the moment she met her soulmate. When she was a teenager she began to listen to the birds more closely. She learned to identify their different songs. Crows, robins, blue jays, cardinals. But her favorite song was that of the love bird. It was cliche, and she knew that. But she loved it nonetheless. Her father had joked that if she got good enough at knowing different bird calls, maybe her tattoo would suddenly change. "Tomorrow you'll wake up and it'll say 'warbler.'" he laughed over dinner. 

She'd spent time admiring her parents' tattoos when she was younger. She loved the simplicity of them. "Ocean" in the plain black ink of their wrists. It was funny, they'd say. Neither of them ever liked the beach. Her mother hated that the sand stuck to everything. Her father was prone to sunburn. But when both of their families had dragged them along on a beach vacation some 25 years ago, they found each other. 

It had become more or less a weekly ritual for her to set up at a local cafe on Monday mornings. She'd order her regular, a dirty chai latte and whichever pastry looked extra delicious that day. The baristas on shift would ask about her week, and tell her about theirs before she'd go out front to her favorite patio table. It sat in the corner of the patio, right beside the black metal fence around the perimeter. It was far enough from the door that she could draw and sketch uninterrupted, and gave a perfect view of the street and the neighborhood. 

This particular Monday morning had gotten off to a rocky start. She'd woken up later than she'd wanted. She didn't have a specific schedule per se, but she liked to be at the cafe early. Then the clouds overhead started to turn an angry, dark shade of grey as she walked down the street. She tucked her sketchbook tighter to her chest, hoping the clouds would be merciful today and not rain on her. 

A breath of relief fell from her mouth, cheeks puffing dramatically as she shut the cafe door behind her. "Looks nasty out there," she told the barista, Amber, with a smile. 

"Uh oh," She answered, her eyes going to the window. "Are you still gonna sit outside?" 

She was at the counter now, her wallet out and ready to pay. She looked outside at the dark sky. It hadn't rained yet. 

"Think I'll take my chances," she answered with a smile. And so she did. She collected her breakfast from Amber and made her way to her favorite table. Amber offered to bring out an umbrella if the skies began to look worse. 

Once she was sat at her table, she suddenly didn't notice the storm clouds above her. All of her focus, all of her energy, was on her sketchbook. She'd look up briefly now and then to find new inspiration. But as soon as something worthy caught her eye, her nose was buried once again in the off white pages. 

Hours had passed before she realized. Mondays were often like that. After ordering another drink, she flipped to a new page in her sketchbook. Her pages were often filled with small, unrelated and unconnected pieces. Flowers from the market right next to a mailbox she saw on her walk. A kitten that had been for sale at a garage sale the previous weekend, its ear nearly touching an old mechanics sign that hung on an abandoned building down the street from her house. She liked the randomness of it all, but she loved starting a new page even more. The crisp, untouched paper was full of nothing but potential. It was exhilarating. 

She noticed that the clouds began to shift only when the sunlight began to fall across the page of her book. The paper that had been a dull, almost sad shade of white suddenly illuminated in warm gold. She glanced up from the paper, taking a quick look at the sky above her. It seemed as though mother nature would be on her side. You could never be sure about weather in Indiana in March, but the tides seemed to be turning. And she couldn't be more glad. 

She picked up her bag from where it sat beside her feet. She just knew there had to be a pair of sunglasses in there somewhere. When her desperate attempts to locate the cheap plastic sunglasses failed, she groaned loudly to herself. She looked up, turning to her left, then to her right. 

When her head snapped a bit too quickly to the right, she suddenly didn't care about sunglasses. She didn't care that the bright afternoon sun had been hurting her eyes just ten seconds ago. The moment she saw him, she didn't care about anything. 

~~~~~

Blood will follow blood.

It was without a doubt the most metal soulmate tattoo he'd ever seen. Every other person Eddie was close to had boring tattoos. Traffic or bells. But his? He took pride in his. 

He'd tried more than a handful of times to write songs with those words. Heavy guitars, deep vocals. He had a fantasy, a dream that one day he'd write the perfect song. He'd play it at a show and that was when he'd meet her. His soulmate. He'd be sweaty from performing, she'd be beautiful and in awe of his musical genius. But so far, any time he tried to write that perfect song, the words fell flat. They weren't his to write, he supposed. 

He spent countless hours wondering what the words on his wrist meant. His first thought, obviously, was that they had to be song lyrics. But  he'd listened to countless records in his time, and he couldn't find them anywhere. His next bet was that it could be Dungeons and Dragons related. The game could get violent at times. It wasn't uncommon for him, or any other Dungeon Master he knew, to be gratuitous in their descriptions during a campaing. 

That took up most of his time, if he were honest. Being a Dungeon Master served as a perfect distraction during his last few years of high school. When everyone else around him was hooking up, biding their time until their actual soulmate arrived, he was nose deep in dungeon manuals and campaign writing. It didn't feel right to him to entertain anyone who wasn't his soulmate, so he didn't. 

The only thing that came close in terms of time spent as a distraction was baking. Eddie Munson made the best brownies in Hawkins. Anyone who had ever tried his baked goods would tell you, that boy had a gift. It had started after he moved in with his uncle. He'd found an old box of cake mix in the back of a cabinet and begged his uncle to make it for him. When uncle Wayne said no, not because he didn't want to, but because he was pretty sure it was expired, 12 year old rebel Eddie did not take his advice. The cake was awful. Absolutely disgusting. So, during his next grocery trip uncle Wayne bought two more boxes of cake mix. He taught Eddie what little he knew about doctoring up a boxed mix to make it even more delicious, and the rest was history. 

Eddie did what he could to get his hands on as many cookbooks as he could. He'd borrow from neighbors, the public library, he even got sweet old Mrs. Conley's from two doors down to give him her secret family cookie recipe. The secret, it turned out, was browned butter. Once he started, he really couldn't stop.

He'd spend hours in the tiny kitchen of his uncle's house mixing and measuring and baking. Once he'd gotten down the basics, cookies, cakes, brownies, even cinnamon rolls that would knock your tits clean off, he started to experiment. Poor, sweet uncle Wayne was more often than not the test subject for his creations. They weren't all great at first, but Wayne loved his nephew. He loved his curiosity. He loved that the little boy who'd been dropped on his step with two changes of clothes and nobody in the world was finally starting to shine. So he'd eat every single terrible thing Eddie ever baked with a smile. Well, he'd try to at least. He did eventually have to tell him that quadrupling the amount of cocoa powder in a brownie recipe was maybe not his best idea to date. 

But now, at 20 years old he considered himself something of a professional in the kitchen. He'd come home to the small house he still shared with his uncle and immediately start. If there was already a pan of brownies, or half a batch of snickerdoodles left from a few days before he'd take them to Max and Susan across the road. Max seemed to appreciate them. And he'd start again. He'd bake something delicious for dessert and make whatever he could find for dinner. Neither he or his uncle were necessarily great cooks but Eddie could make a mean pot of hamburger helper. 

Some nights, Wayne would wake up early and the men would have dinner together. They'd take streaming plates of whatever Eddie made into the living room, plates set on their laps while they watched reruns of Bonanza or Gilligan's Island. But more often, Eddie would cook and eat alone in his bedroom while he did homework or messed around with whatever song he was working on that week. Either way, he'd always pack up the leftovers and dessert into the old blue playmate that served as Wayne's lunchbox for work. 

Everything Eddie did had a soundtrack. Driving, baking, planning campaigns, even just sitting at home. He always had music playing. He loved anything he could get his hands on, but his favorite was metal. Any genre of metal. Black metal, thrash metal, speed metal, stoner metal. He loved it all. And even if a band wasn't his favorite, he appreciated them. He was a music fan above all else. 

This particular weekend had been an exciting one for him. He'd managed to take out the entire party at the previous week's Hellfire campaign on Friday. Then yesterday, Sunday, he finally perfected his recipe for chocolate cupcakes. He was feeling on top of the world, always one to appreciate the little things in life. He packed up half a dozen of his cupcakes into a Tupperware container and set off towards downtown.

He parked outside of the RadioShack downtown. Today was finally the day that one of Eddie's favorite bands would be releasing their new album. Master of Puppets. Even if he didn't already love Metallica, he'd have been hooked by the album name. He was surprised that a big chain like RadioShack carried this kind of music, really. But he supposed that in capitalist America, a dollar was a dollar. And Metallica definitely made the stores that carried their music money. 

"Bob around?" He asked a bored looking middle aged man behind the counter as he walked into the store. The man barely acknowledged Eddie as he pointed his thumb towards the back of the store. Eddie nodded as he walked away, heading towards the bright red and white sign that read "Customer Service" at the back of the store. 

Bob Newby was, among other things, the general manager of the store. Eddie liked him the first day he came in after the store had opened. Most people looked at Eddie and saw trouble. Leather and tattoos would have that effect in a town like Hawkins. But not Bob. Bob greeted Eddie with a real Newby smile and a firm handshake. He learned Eddie's name and interests quickly, always paying attention when they spoke instead of waiting for him to do something terrible like most people in town seemed to do. 

"Mornin', Ed." Bob greeted as he got closer to the counter. 

"You got it?" Eddie asked. He came to a stop on the opposite side of the counter from Bob, the chain on his jeans hitting the front of it loudly as his fingers landed on the edge of the counter. 

"Yes," Bob chuckled, reaching behind him. "I have it." 

He handed the shrink wrapped cassette to Eddie. He thanked Bob with a giddy smile before turning back towards the bored man holding down the checkout counter. He admired the artwork of the cassette. The silver Metallica logo over rows and rows of white crosses. He flipped it over in his hands, excited eyes quickly scanning the tracklist on the back. He could hardly wait to get it into the tape deck in his van. 

Once he was comfortably in his van with the newest addition to his music collection playing on the radio, he set his sights on the Henderson house. Dustin Henderson had been a freshman Hellfire recruit when he met Eddie, and he'd never admit it to the others, but his favorite. He took a liking to the round faced kid immediately. He was already smarter than Eddie at barely 14 and had the quickest wit of anyone in Hawkins. 

Eddie passed a small cafe on his way. It was a warm, simple place owned by the parents of a kid Eddie had gone to high school with. Their pastries were nothing compared to Eddie's, but they made a great cup of coffee. He decided to stop in quickly and grab something to go. 

He removed the cassette from the tape deck, quickly placing it into his walkman. He decided to start side two of the cassette, placing it into the walkman upside down. He placed his headphones over his ears and pressed play as he swung open the door of his van. 

He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings as he walked up the sidewalk towards the cafe. His eyes focused on his shoes as he dug his hands deep into the pockets of his faded blue jeans, suddenly cognizant of the rips and frays across his knees as a chilled March breeze blew. 

The warmth inside the cafe was welcome as the door closed behind him. There was a bit of a line, which was to be expected at this time of morning. He took his place in line behind an older man and turned up the volume in his headphones. The line moved slowly as the tape played in his ears. It was good. Like, really fucking good. He always loved Metallica but this album was new levels. 

The fourth song started as the older man in front of him placed his order. He stopped the tape as he walked up to the counter, pulling his wallet from his back pocket. 

"Large black house blend," he ordered with a smile. "Please." He added quickly. The woman behind the counter told him his total with a grin. He paid, dropping his change into the tip jar beside the register while she poured his coffee. She placed a plastic lid on the cup and handed it to him over the counter. He placed his headphones back over his ears before taking the cup. 

He pressed play on his walkman as he walked through the cafe, through the front door and back into the chilly air outside. He walked down the sidewalk, past a few patio tables that were set up outside. Just as he was passing through the black metal fence that surrounded the tables when he heard it. 

Go against the grain until the end Blood will follow blood Dying time is here Damage incorporated

He stopped in his tracks. He swore he lost all feeling in his hands as he heard the words. He turned around, hair flying around his head as his eyes scanned his surroundings. 

As soon as his eyes met hers he suddenly didn't hear the guitars in his ears. The drums faded into background noise. The only thing he could see, the only person that existed in this moment was her. And she was beautiful beyond words. 

~~~~~

She stood from her seat, tugging down the hem of her shirt while she smiled at him. His own beaming grin was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking. A rosy blush bloomed across dimpled cheeks, his brown eyes like honey beneath the sun of early spring. Another chilly breeze blew around the two of them, kicking up fallen leaves into something of a miniature tornado between their feet. 

"Hi," he finally said, placing his headphones around his neck and taking a step closer to her. "I'm Eddie." 

She introduced herself, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as she did. Fuck, he thought to himself. Even her name is beautiful. She offered him a seat at her table. He happily accepted, taking clumsy steps towards the chair she had vaguely gestured to. 

"What are you listening to?" She asked as he set his walkman and headphones onto the table. 

"The new Metallica."

She was surprised, though she supposed that she shouldn't be. The hair alone should have given her some inclination that he'd be into that type of music. Paired with the rings, chains, and leather jacket he kind of seemed like a stereotype of a metalhead. 

Before she could stop herself she was reaching her hand towards his. She felt electricity under her fingertips as she delicately lifted his hand, turning his palm up. 

Blood will follow blood.

"Goodness," she giggled as she read the black ink on his wrist. Her fingers rested softly against his palm. His smile curled higher on his cheeks as he gripped her hand in his own, turning it so that he could see her wrist. 

Birds. 

He took a moment to listen as he looked at the simple word that decorated her perfect skin. Sure enough, he heard birds above him. He'd never noticed. He never paid much attention at all to the sounds of birds. But now, more than anything, he was thankful for their songs. 

"It's a finch," she told him. 

Her voice pulled him from his own thoughts. His eyes met hers and he was suddenly glad to be sitting. The way her eyes seemed to melt everything in him must have been what people meant when they told him he'd "just know." 

"A finch, huh?" He asked. "He's quite the musician." 

"She, actually." 

"You, uh, know a lot about bird calls?" 

She shrugged. "Got really into birds when I was in school. Thought maybe it would help, I guess." She glanced down to where their hands were still resting on the table. "This didn't really give me a lot to go on." 

"I know the feeling," he laughed. "This song just came out today. Spent twenty years trying to figure out what the hell mine even meant." He noticed her empty coffee cup and the muffin that you'd picked at sitting next to it. "Their muffins suck." 

"Not always!" She defended her choice with a playful smile. "This particular one is disappointing, though, I'll admit." 

He stood quickly, his chair fumbling across the pavement. He pulled his hand away from hers as he stepped away. "I'll be right back," he assured her. His pace was quick, very nearly a jog as he walked to the passenger seat of his van in the parking lot around the building. 

When he returned he carried with him a plastic bowl with a red lid. He set the bowl on the table between them as he took his seat. 

"Gotta try these," he told her as he removed the lid. Inside were the frosted chocolate cupcakes that he'd intended to take to Dustin. He selected one, gently lifting it between his thumb and pointer finger. "Promise this is better than that nasty muffin." 

She accepted the cupcake with a smile. When she peeled down the paper liner she could instantly tell that it was going to be delicious. Perfectly moist, soft where her fingers gripped the sides. Eddie licked residual frosting from his thumb as she took a bite. 

"Oh, Christ," she all but moaned over the mouthful of cake. "You're right. So much better."

Eddie smiled, proud of himself. "Told ya," he giggled as she took a second bite. "Just made them yesterday. Finally got the recipe just right." 

"You made these?" She asked, her eyes widening. 

"With love," he winked. 

"Oh, god I'm so glad you're my soulmate." 

He blushed again at her confession. Obviously, they both knew that the other was their soulmates. Tattoos don't lie. But hearing the word fall from her lips, the way her voice wrapped around the two syllables was musical. He wanted to hear her call him her soulmate a million more times. 

~~~~~

Feedback is always appreciated! Requests are open! Have a great weekend! 🥰 If you'd like to be tagged in my Stranger Things fics, please let me know. I also have individual tag lists for Steve, Eddie, Robin, Nancy, and Steddie.

Tag List: @redwineanddnicotine @renaissan-vvitchh

Eddie Tag List: @littlemiss-yeehaw @protecteddiemunson4vr @tayhar8111

[bog-head]

Hello. Today i decided to draw a space marine.

For the past week I've been rolling around this idea of a homebrew chapter. The basic idea is that they say that they are successors of the Blood Angels. However the Blood Angels can't find any evidence of them being successors so they shun them because of something I haven't decided on yet.

Beforehand, I wanted to paint the color scheme on some assault intercessors I bought a bit ago. But alas, I couldn't stay focus on actually building the darn things and drew a guy instead.

I experimented with the smudge tool for the shading and highlights. I don't think I like this, but its probably because I didn't do it that well in the first place. Also, it looks like the thumbnail art for Ad Ric. For now, I think I'll stick with drawing the shadows.

I also should probably learn to finish drawing the line art before coloring because I don't fill the gaps and can't use the fill bucket tool. So I have to color it in manually and lose to patience with coloring one section and recoloring another because I accidently colored outside the line until eventually I give up.

Final thought: I'm not good at writing things and should learn how to form my thoughts better. This whole thing is repetitive as hell I feel. I should've gone to college.

[aditis20percentproject]

Blogpost #4

Today i decided to revisit hand stiching and get better at it. I went to the mall with my parents a few days ago and I bought 3 pairs of white crew length socks. I decided to use one of them to embroider something small on it, and decided to do a simple pattern of 3 hearts. I had some leftover embroidery thread, 3 different shades of pink, light pink, hot pink, and magenta. I drew the pattern on faintly with a pencil first, and then used a small embroidery hoop to tighter the fabric where the design was. I started with the right most and smallest heart. I used a satin stich, ad did it fast in one go, since the heart was pretty small so I didn't need to use mutiple satin stiches. I moved on to the middle heart whichw as the biggest but still I only had to use one satin stich thread for it. I then moved on to the last heart, the medium one which was a magenta color. I actually messed up on the knotting quit a bit so this one took longer than it should've. Anyways, here is the final result! I'll embroider the next song next week because this took way longer than it should've.

[depressedhatakekakashi]

Konoha’s Beautiful Green Beast

AU: Canon

Words: 1899

Rating: General

Pairings: Hatake Kakashi/Maito Gai

Warnings: None

Summary: The wedding is finally here, and Kakashi can’t help but feel nervous. Especially when his husband-to-be is late.

Made with lots of help from @uncharted-darkness

Panic was starting to rise in his chest. A tight, painful feeling making it difficult for him to breath. Like there was a heavyweight on his chest, making the pain worse every second that he stood there.

“He’s late…” his voice shook when he spoke, all of the worst-case scenarios coming to the front of his mind.

What if he’s injured and I’m not there to help?

What if he got lost?

Or he just doesn’t want to marry me anymore?

His stomach churned, Nausea settling in.

Forcing himself to take deep breaths, he tried to apply some reason to the situation. Remind himself that it was Gai who asked him to marry him, who planned out the wedding and carefully picked out the guest list so that it wasn’t too big but all of their friends were there.

No matter what he did, that impending feeling of disaster clung to him. Clawing at his soul while his mind tried to come up with every excuse that it could be for Gai’s lateness.

Gai, who was always on time with a bright smile and excitement that no one else could ever hope to match. Who had never kept Kakashi waiting for anything in his life, and would often scold Kakashi for just being a few minutes late to their dates.

“Sensei,” Sakura’s voice called out to him, but he ignored it. His mind going a thousand miles a minute trying to figure out why Gai wasn’t there. Coming up with even more excuses and reason’s for why he was left standing there in front of a room full of people he didn’t even want there, waiting for his fiance. “Sensei!”

A hand came down onto his shoulders, shaking him lightly until he focused his attention on his student. Her face stern as she stared into his eyes.

“You’re panicking,” As if pointing out the obvious would suddenly get rid of the barrage of negative thoughts going through his mind. “Gai-Sensei will be here. I’m sure he has a good reason for being late.”

Somehow Sakura’s words don’t help him relax, though he does appreciate the effort. No matter how hard he tries to listen and believe her words, his mind refuses to cooperate.

I knew he’d realize it

Giving his head a shake, he pressed a hand over his left eye. A tactic that he had learned over the years to try and help himself through the panic. Just a little pressure to center himself into the real world.

I’m not good enough for him. He doesn’t want me anymore.

His hands started to shake. Fingers twitching against his face as the negative thoughts drowned everything else out. Silent, personal reminders of how he didn’t deserve Gai.

“Hey,” A pair of hands wrapped around his wrists, forcing him to open his eyes and look at Sakura once more. This time Naruto was standing directly behind her with a worried look on his face. “Sensei, he’ll be here.”

He knows she means those words. Her voice is serious and firm, trying to reach out to him when his own mind was against him, and he wanted so desperately to believe what she was saying.

Opening his mouth, words of protest start to form. Before he can get them out, though, the sound of laughter fills the air. Gai’s laughter, loud and bright, drowning out every word of doubt that had been swimming in his head just moments ago.

“I told you,” Sakura jabbed him in the side, chuckling when he glared down at her. “You worry too much, Sensei. Gai-Sensei will always show up for you.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest, stamping out the fear and pain as if they were nothing. The only thing his brain would focus on now was the laughter that he loved so much.

Fixing his eyes on the entrance to the field, he wished that there weren’t trees and fences blocking his view. Tenzo’s idea, of course. He had said something about adding a little suspense to Kakashi’s life, and he hated it. It wasn’t so much to ask to see the person he was going to marry, was it?

“Straighten up, Sensei,” Naruto finally spoke up, beaming when Kakashi looked his way. “You want Bushier-brows Sensei to see you excited for the wedding, don’t you?”

Straightening himself up, Kakashi forced his hands out of his pockets and forced them down to his side.

“Maybe not that straight,” Sakura giggled behind him. “Now you look like you’re getting ready for Tsunade-sama to give you a mission.”

That wouldn’t do.

Taking a deep breath, he relaxed his shoulders and focused on the entrance that Gai would come through. The spot where he’d finally get to see his partner. That stunning smile shining as bright as ever towards him, and eyes that screamed ‘home’ when he felt lost and confused about where he belonged.

A blaze of green came rolling into view. The wheels of Gai’s wheelchair screeching to a stop dead center of the entrance, with green and purple ribbons attached to the handlebars and arms swaying in the wind.

Gai’s chair was a celebration of colors, and no doubt drew in a few eyes from the audience, but all Kakashi could look at was the person he was going to marry.

A bright, proud smile. So wide that he could see every single tooth in Gai’s mouth. Eyes soft and kind, staring at Kakashi as if he was the only person there, with a misty look in there that told him his partner was already close to tears. Slowly, making sure that Kakashi was watching him the entire time, Gai raised up his left arm and stuck out his thumb in his signature pose, and for the first time since he had arrived that morning, Kakashi laughed.

Happy and warm, he turned his face away from Gai and brought a hand up to wipe away the tears that had started to pool in his eyes.

He knew why he had panicked, but standing here now with Gai sitting at the entrance smiling at him, he couldn’t imagine how he had ever believed the things his mind tried to tell him. Gai, who had always been by his side. Who refused to leave him even when he tried so desperately to push him away, choosing not to get married to him.

Deciding after all of these years that he could do better, and leaving Kakashi at their wedding alone and broken. It was all so ridiculous now that he thought of it.

“Sensei,” Naruto’s face appeared directly in front of him suddenly. “Are you crying?”

Usually, he would scold Sakura for punching her teammate at such an important event, but he was willing to let it slide this one time. She had held back her punch, only hitting Naruto hard enough that he was forced to take a step back, and she immediately started lecturing him about giving their Sensei his personal space and not embarrassing him on his wedding day.

He really did appreciate the support.

“That’s enough, you two.” using the bottom of his palm to wipe away the last bit of tears, he looked back down the aisle to Gai and finally took in the full image. Rather than wearing the brilliant green Hanfu that Kakashi had helped him pick out just a few weeks ago, Gai seemed to have gone with a stunning green silk dress instead. Form-fitting and showing off his arms and legs perfectly, it was patterned with two different shades of green swirled around each other along the length of the dress. The neckline dipped down into a V-neck, highlighting Gai’s chest.

The feeling of a small weight landing on his shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts, forcing him to drag his eyes away from Gai and to the small pug dog getting comfortable there on his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you be guarding the perimeter?” he asked, certain that he had made Pakkun’s mission objective clear for the wedding. ‘Make sure that no one did anything stupid.

Pakkun was the only one he trusted to keep everyone in line, especially later in the evening when Alcohol entered the mix.

“You do know that ‘Make sure no one does anything stupid’ includes you, right?” Some would call it fate that Kakashi had connected with the sassiest little shit of a hound dog in the page, but Kakashi liked to consider it divine torture. Someone in the universe was laughing their asses off at him every time he talked to Pakkun, and one of these days he was going to find them and stab them. “You look like you’re about to jump Gai, and it’s my job to make sure you keep your hands to yourself until the ceremony is over.”

“Have I ever told you that Bull is my favourite?”

“Don’t lie to my face just because you’re mad you can’t tackle Gai,” Reaching out a paw, Pakkun shoved it against Kakashi’s masked cheek. “Now pay attention. He’s headed your way.”

Returning his attention to Gai, Kakashi smiled when he saw him making his way towards him. Tenten right behind him carefully pushing his wheelchair, and Ningame in front of him.

It had sounded so weird when he originally suggested including their Summons in the wedding. He had thought Gai would laugh at him and tell him that they could just use their students or other shinobi for the jobs he wanted to give Ningame and the hounds.

But Gai had smiled that soft beautiful smile instead and told him that he loved the idea. Indulged him when he wanted to add something personal and interesting to the wedding.

“Hey,” Pakkun smacked his cheek, this time a hint of claws coming out to poke him. “Stop zoning out.”

Right.

He was getting married. To Maito Gai of all people.

Keeping focus was important.

“Rival,” Gai came to a stop at his side, his bright smile shining up at Kakashi as he waved Tenten off to take her place by his side with Lee and turned his chair to face his Fiance. Soon to be husband. “Sorry for keeping you waiting. I had a little trouble deciding what i wanted to wear today.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I think you made the right choice,” reaching out, he gently brushed Gai’s hair behind his ear. Chuckling when he leaned into the touch. “You brought the Hanfu just in case, right?”

“Tenten has it sealed away in a scroll,” He assured him. “You didn’t worry too much while you were waiting, right?”

“Not at all,” he could hear Naruto and Sakura snickering behind him. Giving away all of his secrets to Gai without saying a single word. He’d have to deal with them later. “Just excited. I finally get to marry Konoha’s beautiful Green Beast.”

Gai’s laughter filled the air once more. Beautiful, warm laughter that made Kakashi’s chest bloom with excitement.

After all of those years of putting it off. Promising that they’d get around to it once there were no more missions and wars, and almost losing Gai to the eighth gate, he was doing it. Committing himself to Gai for the rest of his life. Finally, he was done waiting. Today was the day he married Gai and started the rest of their lives together.

He couldn’t wait.

[morningfears]

Just Right

Rating: PG | Fluffy af!

Summary: “I found a ring today.” and “I’m not moving, your lap is too comfortable.” With tattoo artist!Ash request by Anon.

Word Count: 1.6k (kind of a drabble?)

The tattoo shop was finally closed, the door locked and the main room quiet, after a long day of clients. The shop’s staff had long disappeared, all eager to leave work behind for the night, leaving Ashton sat in his office alone. The hum of the overhead lights and the scratch of his pencil against paper filled the silence that had fallen over the shop and for the first time since unlocking the door at ten that morning, he felt like he could focus on the design he’d been working on.

It was a simple concept and should have been an even simpler design but he’d been stuck for days, unable to get it to turn out the way he’d imagined. It was as if his hands had a mind of their own and he’d grown frustrated. The trashcan beside his desk was filled with crumpled pieces of paper, each a discarded attempt at the design, and the cup full of pencils he kept on the corner of the desk was rapidly emptying but no matter how hard he worked, nothing seemed right.

It had to be perfect, he would accept no less for this particular piece, and he just couldn’t get there.

Ashton had planned on giving himself enough time to work for an hour after closing before leaving to meet you for dinner. It was written in bright green ink on his desk calendar and programmed into his phone, just so the shop assistant wouldn’t accidentally schedule a client for him, and he’d been looking forward to it all day. You’d both been exceptionally busy, new clients and projects piling up, so it was a relief that you’d finally be getting some time to yourselves. However, as the hour dwindled he lost himself in his work and seemed to be making greater progress than he had since starting nearly a week ago.

His eyes ached and his head pounded, the strain of the day settling in, but he didn’t dare slow down as he didn’t want to interrupt his progress. Instead, he focused on finally finishing. He was so wrapped up in his work that he didn’t hear the sound of his cellphone vibrating against his desk, nor did he hear the sound of the back door opening or your shoes hitting the tile floor.

You stood in the doorway of his office for a long moment, arms folded over your chest and a fond smile on your lips, to watch him work. His eyebrows furrowed and his tongue darted out to wet his lips as he shaded in the drawing. His hands were covered in graphite, stained from the work he’d done, and you smiled at the sight. Seeing him at work, watching as he drew or tattooed, was one of your favorite sights and you always considered yourself lucky to be able to witness it so regularly.

You remained unnoticed for far longer than you thought you would but the scent of Thai food finally overwhelmed Ashton enough that he lifted his head and blinked in surprise to see you standing in the doorway. He looked confused, but happy to see you, until realization hit him.

“Fuck, I missed dinner, didn’t I?” He frowned, dropping his pencil and reaching to rub his eyes before he caught sight of the mess on his hands and grimaced.

“Technically, no. I’ve got dinner right here.” You held up a plastic bag filled with your usual orders before you stepped into his office and crossed the room to place it onto his desk.

“I’m sorry, doll. I’ve been stuck on this drawing for so long and I finally got it to start looking the way I wanted.” He reached out for you and, despite the stains on his hands, you took his hand and let him pull you to stand between his legs. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you laughed, giggling as his hands found your hips. “Don’t worry about it. The restaurant was crowded, anyway. People were waiting for tables so I figured it’d be nicer to eat here where we don’t have to rush. Can I see what you’re working on?”

Ashton reached around you, quickly piling a few pieces of paper on top of the sheet he’d been drawing on, before he grinned at you. “Nope. Not yet. Don’t want you to see this one until it’s finished.” He did that, every now and then, and though you hated not being able to see the progress he made, you respected his desire to keep his work private until he was ready. So, with a pout, you nodded and reached behind you to grab the bag of food.

“Oh, alright. Well, if I can’t see your work, you can at least take a few minutes to have dinner with me.” 

Ashton laughed as he released you from his grasp and watched as you wandered around his office, grabbing the utensils you’d left stashed in a cabinet for nights like this. You often ended up here, having dinner with him at his desk after work, and though you appreciated the nights that saw you both dressed up and hitting the town, you treasured any moment you got him to yourself.

As you moved about the office, gathering utensils and two drinks from the mini fridge in the corner, Ashton watched you with a fond smile of his own. You were so good to him, even when he did something stupid like forget the dinner date you’d been planning all week, and he loved you more than he ever thought himself capable of.

Without thinking about it, he announced, “I found a ring today.”

It was no secret that Ashton was going to propose. You’d talked about marriage at length, confirmed that marriage was in the cards for you both, and knew that you were both ready. He’d been searching for a ring, one that was exactly what you wanted, and it seemed that he’d finally found one.

“I thought you spent the day at the shop,” you hummed as you returned to the desk and allowed Ashton to pull you down onto his lap.

“I left to get lunch for everyone. Found a shop I hadn’t tried before.” He took the box of noodles from you and pressed a kiss to your temple as a ‘thank you’ when he opened it to find his favorite dish inside.

“So, I should stay away from your sock drawer, then?”

“I’ll show it to you, if you want. That way I can make sure you like it before I propose,” he joked before he took a bite of noodles. 

“Mm, I think I’d prefer to be surprised. I’m sure it’s going to be perfect, you picked it out.”

“Hey, I’m the cheesy one.” He laughed, nudging your side with his elbow, before he nodded. “Thank you for the vote of confidence. I appreciate it. The boys approve.”

“I’m glad. You figure out who’s going to be the best man yet or are you just going to toss their names into a hat and leave it to chance?” You grinned at him, your question ending in a laugh as his own face fell and he released a groan.

“Can I just have three best men?”

“Your three best men are, like, most of our wedding guests, babe. Gotta make some decisions.” You reached out to pat his shoulder and he laughed as he nodded in agreement.

The pair of you had already started planning your wedding, including the guest list, and had settled on a small affair with close friends and family. You knew that he would end up choosing one of the boys sooner or later and you were in no hurry, you weren’t even officially engaged yet, so you let him remain undecided for the time being.

You moved on to a different topic, opting to catch up on what you’d missed in one another’s lives, as you finished eating. You sat comfortably on his lap, content to remain there until it was time to head home, and Ashton noticed as you both placed your empty containers onto the desk.

“I wanted to finish this up before we head home. Do you want to go ahead or wait here?”

“I’m not moving,” you mumbled, turning to place your head in the crook of his neck, “your lap is too comfortable. Can you draw with me here?”

It was, by no means, a comfortable position to draw in but it was possible. And you hadn’t had much time to just be together in recent days so Ashton nodded. “Sure, doll. Just promise you won’t look?”

He rarely made you promise not to look at his work so you nodded, content to keep your head buried against his neck where you could smell the cologne on his skin. “Promise. I’m just gonna close my eyes. If I fall asleep, just wake me up whenever you’re ready to go.”

He knew that you would be asleep in minutes, you hadn’t slept much lately, but that was alright. It’d keep you from looking and ruining the surprise. He was waiting for the right moment to propose, that much you knew, but what you didn’t know was that he was that he was working on a print for you. You were opposed to the idea of a tattoo for a significant other, you firmly believed it was bad luck, but you loved his art so he wanted to give you something special. It wouldn’t be inked onto your skin but it would be permanent enough, framed and hopefully displayed in your future home, and that was enough.

Everything finally felt just right and Ashton was proud to finally know what love really was.

____________________________________________________

Author’s Note: I love the idea that there’s complete communication about something as big as a proposal. Like, a surprise is nice, but knowing that it’s coming and being open about it is important, I think. I don’t know. Anyway, I’m. still working on drabbles, promise. I haven’t written Ash in so long, I missed my boy.

Tag List (like this post or message me if you want to be added!) : @toolazymyguy , @irwinkitten , @jamieebabiee , @glittersluke , @spicycal , @lusbaby , @everyscarisahealingplace, @brokenvirtualheartcollector , @if-it-rains-it-pours, @blisshemmings , @calumscalm , @lovemenowseemenever , @ijustreallylovezebras , @rhiannonmichelle, @p0laroidpictures , @tomscuddles , @loverofmineluke , @harrytreatspeoplewithkindnesss , @blueviiolence , @loveroflrh , @empathycth , @luckyduckydoo , @tobefalling , @bandsandbooksaremykink , @watch-how-she-burns , @megz1985, @wokeupinaustralia , @lucidlrh , @canterburyfiction , @cal-is-not-on-branding , @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o , @jaacknaano , @findingliam-o , @mindkaleidoscope​ , @idk-who-i-am-anymore1 , @sammyrenae68 , @flowerthug , @calumsphile , @caitdaniels, @drummerboy794 , @writingfortoomanyfandoms , @x-lover-of-mine-x , @miliefayy , @sunaaii , @canterburyfiction , @sebrox40 , @nati-nn , @opheliaaurora23 , @bitterbethany , @sunnysidesblog​ , @333-xx​ , @thesubtweeter​, @zhangyixingxing1​

[middleofnowhere92]

Azulaang for my ATLA Valentine’s Day Rarepair One Shots  for @ljf613

Blue Lotus

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Aang/Azula (Avatar), Aang & Azula (Avatar) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Tattoo Parlor, Tattoos, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern Era Summary: Azula, Ty lee and Mai decide to get matching tattoos on Valentine's day. Aang ends up being Azula's tattoo artist.

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Ty Lee bounced ahead of Azula into the tattoo shop. Mai and Azula followed her in, with much less enthusiasm.

By the time Mai and Azula made it inside, Ty Lee was flipping through a portfolio and chatting with the girl at the front desk. Ty Lee chirped, "Well we decided fuck valentine's day, let's get tattoos!" "More like you decided," Mai responded in a bored tone. Ty Lee laughed and then the girl at the counter called out, “Jet, Snoozles, Twinkle Toes- your appointments are here.”

A tall lanky guy confidently strode up to the desk and peered over the girl’s shoulder, “Azula?” She recognized him from the video chat when they had first discussed her tattoo. She walked forward and followed him down the small into a room that was painted a nauseating shade of orange.

He sat on a low rolling chair and she hopped up onto the tattoo chair. His wide grey eyes looked up at her, “So I was looking over what you requested, a blue lotus tattoo?” She nodded. He was easy and relaxed, “You’re still wanting it on your inner forearm?”

She flipped her forearm and pointed to the center, “Here.” He nodded, “I think it’ll look perfect. Let me show you what I drew up.” He easily rolled over to his computer and she peeked over from the chair. It was better than what she had expected, but instead she replied, “That’s fine.”

He spun around and looked at her, “Is there something you want me to change? It’s gonna be on you forever.” She brushed a bang behind her ear, “No, it’s fine. We can proceed.” He almost looked like he wanted to ask again, but instead rolled back to the computer. He printed up the design and then pulled on latex gloves.

He smiled up at her and said, “You can sit back and rest your arm on the arm rest, we’re gonna be here for a while.” She did as she was told and watched him roll over to a cabinet and grab supplies.

He rolled back to her, “Alright, so I’m just gonna disinfect you here.” She didn’t flinch as he rubbed down her inner forearm with a cool alcohol swab. She watched closely as he applied the outline to her skin. He looked up at her, “Alright, go look in the mirror and make sure it’s exactly what you want.”

She bounced down from the chair and walked over to the mirror. The flower was centered on her inner forearm and it looked like it was meant to be there. She turned and sat back down. To appease him, she said, “It’s perfect.”

“Great!” He responded. “Let’s get this show on the road.” She settled back into the chair and heard him start up the tattoo gun. He asked, “Is this your first tattoo?” She looked up at the orange ceiling. “Yes, it is.” “Oh, cool, cool.”  She bit her lip as she felt the first prick of pain.

He was bent over her arm intently at work, but his voice was carefree as he asked, “So why a blue lotus?” She really would rather sit here in silence, but she answered, “My friends and I always talked about matching tattoos. The lotus has meaning for all of us. I’m getting blue, Ty Lee is getting pink and Mai is getting red.”

He nodded along, “That’s so cool. Me and the other artist Sokka, we have matching tattoos, but you know what- actually we don’t need to talk about that.” A voice called from down the hall called, “Aang, don’t be ashamed of our bro tats!” He looked up at her, “Do you mind if I put some music on. I swear I can’t get any privacy here.”

The girl at the front desk yelled back, “The fuck do you need privacy for?” Aang rolled his eyes and Azula laughed, “Sure, go ahead.” He wiped down what he had done so far and then looked around, “Can you grab my phone and pick something on Spotify? It’s right behind you.”

She reached with her free arm and swiped open his phone, which already had the app open. She clicked on the playlist that said Tattoo Beatz. As she placed it down Lupe Fiasco played in the background. He waited for her to get settled and then went back to work, “Good choice.” She smirked, “You have your playlists pretty easily labeled.”

She watched him intently as he worked on the outline of the lotus flower. She looked around the room she was in to get her mind off of the pain. There was a happy buddha up on a shelf, plants were scattered all over the place and inspirational quotes were on the walls. She looked down at the artist as he was crouched intently working on her tattoo.

He was tall and skinny, but he had enough muscles that they flexed as he moved the tattoo gun. He was wearing a white tank top with the sleeves cut off and orange cargo pants. He was so different from her, in black jeans and a burgundy long sleeve crop top.

The tattoo gun hummed. She studied him as he worked, his face full of concentration and his bottom lip caught between his teeth. His body was covered in tattoos. It wasn’t haphazardly done, but seemed intentional and well thought out. She leaned forward without realizing, to get a better look at the blue pattern that covered him.

She was startled as his chipper voice disrupted her thoughts, “I spent a few years abroad, learning traditional tattoo methods.” “Oh,” she answered. She flushed a bit at being caught looking at him. He looked up at her, about to say something, when Ty Lee bounced into the room and poked her head over Aang’s shoulder, “Ohhh it’s so pretty.”

Aang wiped away excess ink and gently tapped Azula’s arm, “We’ve been at it for a minute. Take a break.” He unfurled himself from his crouched over position, stretching to his full height, his long arms stretching up towards the ceiling. Azula’s eyes scanned over him, until she felt Ty Lee yank her out of her chair, “Let’s go see Mai’s!”

It actually did feel good to get out of the chair. The girls walked into the small room. Mai was flipping her pocket knife with her free hand as the artist intently worked on her piece. Mai’s was the darkest, the lines straighter and more severe than the other two girls, but each of their tattoos were beginning to reflect their personalities.

Ty Lee and Azula each went back to their designated chairs. Aang snapped on a new pair of gloves and got back to work. He said thoughtfully,” You’re a really good canvas. You’ve got a great skin tone for colored work and the forearm is one of my favorite spots- not too much pain for you and I don’t have to be twisted in some awful position.” Azula’s brow furrowed, “Does that happen a lot?” His grey eyes went wide, “Oh yeah. People ask for the weirdest stuff. I’m just glad that you didn’t ask for an infinity symbol or something. Not that I have anything against it- just gets repetitive after awhile.”

She couldn’t hold back as she asked, “What’s the worst tattoo you’ve ever done?” He looked up at her mischievously as he switched to blue ink, “Worst in what way? Like worst design I’ve ever done? Worst thing someone has asked for?” She couldn’t help but be pulled in by him, “All of them.” He laughed easily, “Well, every tat Sokka asks for is easily the worst thing I’ve ever done.” A “HEY!” rang out from down the hall.

She looked around the room, at the decor, then at him and asked, “Do you think a lotus tattoo is offensive? You seem more spiritual than I am.” His brows pulled together, “I wouldn’t tattoo something I thought was offensive. I know some people think it’s crude, but you’re not doing it just because you’re into yoga this week. You’re doing it because it reminds you of who you are and your friends. I think that’s really sweet.”

Azula actually outright laughed, “No one’s called me sweet before.” He looked up at her, “Bullshit. Your friend, the peppy one, I’m sure she has.” Azula smiled at the description, “Nope. Never.” He shrugged and focused as he used the gun to spread white ink, “Well, I think you are. I mean you’re spending Valentine’s day with your friends. Seems pretty sweet to me.”

She rolled her eyes, “I was forced here.” “Oh really? ‘Cause we talked about this tattoo like a week ago. What would you be doing today if you hadn’t been forced here?” She looked down, “Probably watching cheesy movies with Mai and Ty Lee.” “See! You are sweet! Spending Valentine’s day with your friends.”

She sighed in fake annoyance. She really couldn’t be too annoyed when he was giving her a bright lopsided grin. He wiped down her arm for the last time and said, “Go have a look.” She slid out of the chair and when she saw the design in the mirror, she had never seen anything so beautiful, and it was a part of her now.

The flower looked so real, so delicate. The blue, white and yellow hues all blended seamlessly. He did beadwork that hung down from each petal and connected them. He had recommended it during Azula’s consult and she was enthralled by it. He stood behind her in the mirror, “I think a blue lotus suits you.” She was still staring in awe of it, “It means perfection of wisdom.” He added, “Lotus flowers symbolize a lot of things to different cultures. I like the idea that they symbolize the human condition. We can be planted in the dirtiest waters, but still grow to be beautiful. That we can grow past a difficult beginning and make a beautiful life.”

She normally would have made a snide comment, but she was thrown off as she saw the genuine look of interest on his face. Instead she softly replied, “I’ll remember that.”

He blushed and said, “Let’s get you bandaged up.” Azula realized she would miss how delicately he touched her. How good he smelled. This was silly, she had only known him a  few hours.  

He talked her through the aftercare and she took diligent mental notes. He easily slid back in his chair and scribbled on a post it, “Here’s my number, in case you have any questions or need anything. You can always come by so I can see how you’re doing. I’d be happy to take you to lunch sometime.”

The small paper felt heavy in her hands, but she nodded and slipped it in her pocket, “That would be great.”

-

Aang watched the group of girls leave the shop. As the door shut behind them, he heard the girl in pink shriek at Azula, “HE GAVE YOU WHAT?”

Toph rolled her eyes as she closed out the register, “You’ve got it bad, don’t you Twinkle Toes?”

[ourplaceinthecosmosphff]

Chapter 29. Borrowed Time

‘Harder days are coming. The loan of borrowed time will be due on the horizon. (...)’ - Ingeborg Bachmann

The most northern village in Savoy was Valois-Narcisse, so small that it wasn’t actually reachable by any form of public transportation. Not a lot of people in Savoy even knew Valois-Narcisse by name; Bayona, on the East Coast, was the closest reference point, a beach village considered an under-rated touristic spot. Historically, Valois-Narcisse was populated by sheep and eggplant farmers, not a very sexy niche, and it was still how the village’s only export to local and regional farmer’s markets.

For the following few weeks after Ascot, every time Harry tried to talk about it, his phone corrected the name to ‘value narcissism’, so by the time I drove past the small, rusted iron sign that read its name, I couldn’t help but smile.

One of the reasons Valois-Narcisse was so abandoned was that it was mostly situated up a mountain. Not at the top of the mountain, exactly, although parts of it were. The village just stretched along the mountain, with most of its commerce and eateries, however scarce, down below, and the houses built towards the top, including a couple of small hostels and, lucky for us, one very odd Airbnb.

The houses, bridges and streets were all built of stone and wood, with wildflowers and weeds growing in between, and across the mountain, beyond the village, stood the vast, beautiful Celtic Sea. On days of low tide, locals swore they could see the outline of the Irish coast on the horizon, at least according to the description on Airbnb.

But even if that was an exaggeration, we wouldn’t have cared, because what drew Harry and I to Valois-Narcisse that weekend was how desolate and empty it was. Paparazzi wouldn’t dream of finding us there, so it was there that we scheduled our first getaway. Our first secret rendezvous. Or, as Harry kept reminding me, our first date.

We had been texting non-stop since I left his house after Ascot, about what happened, and also about all things around us, what we were doing or not, and a lot of nothing. It was over text that we made the plans to meet in Vallois-Narcisse for the first time since getting together, it was over text that we discussed the latest of the Adrien saga (he’d been seen out in a club with the singer-girlfriend and their friends), and it was over text that he informed me that since we never got to go on our date the previous year, during our weekend in Vallois-Narcisse, he was going to pull all the stops to ‘take me out’’.

“Are we going out for dinner?” I asked, in our Airbnb, while I got ready in the middle of the afternoon.

“Not really.” He replied, from the small sitting room right outside our suite. “And stop trying to guess, just get ready.”

He had refused to tell me anything about the date, claiming it was supposed to be as real as the real one would have been and in the real one, it would have been a surprise.

“It’s very hard to get ready when I don’t know what we’re doing.” I sighed. “How casual am I supposed to look?”

“Casual.” He replied, unhelpful. “Maybe wear sneakers.”

“Well, that’s one decision off my conscience.” I mumbled to myself, staring at my options laid out in the bed, my small suitcase open on the floor.

I had chosen a preppy, plaid short skirt in shades of white and blue, and I had all the tops I had brought in the bed as possible options. For shoes, I removed the flats from the lineup, and put on my white Nike’s, turning around to look at the tops again.

“Are you ready? It’s time.” Harry called from the other room.

“Just–! Just give me ten minutes!” I shouted back, nervously.

I realized how ridiculous it was. It was just a gesture – a sweet, romantic, gesture – to have a first date when we had already slept together more than once. More than twice. The previous night, for instance. It made no sense, it was just sweet. So there was no reason to be nervous, and I knew that. Rationally, I knew that.

Still, as I looked at the clothes I brought, I hated every single one. I threw the Jurassic Park tee back into the suitcase – too casual –, and looked at the Kimono top, a greenish blue shade, long, loose sleeves, a nice, laidback fit to contrast with the skirt. The other two options, a tight, square neckline, navy blue, crop top, and a loose, green, blouse with spaghetti sleeves, both matched the skirt and were casual enough, but seemed more appropriate for the weather.

“…It’s been ten minutes.” Harry’s voice came back from the other room, patiently cautious.

“Coming!”

In one panicked move, I grabbed the green, strappy blouse and put it on. I rushed to the bathroom and quickly applied some tinted sunblock to my face. I wanted to apply actual makeup, but convinced myself it was silly. He’d seen me without makeup many times already. It wasn’t a real first date, no matter how big the knot on my stomach was, so I just grabbed a pair of earrings, my every-day necklace, and sunglasses, and burst through the door in a hurry, ready to run as if we had an actual reservation, even though I was perfectly aware that no restaurant in this village town worked like that.

“Okay, I’m ready, let’s go!” I said, looking at him, who startled up from the couch and looked me up and down, appreciatively.

“Mary, wow.” He smiled, slowly, approaching me with careful steps. “You look…”

“What are you doing?!” I laughed, blushing. “You saw me five minutes ago. I look the same. I just put on a different, very casual, outfit.”

“Will you just pretend with me? Please?” He sighed, rolling his eyes. “We never got to have our first date, just… let’s just pretend we’re a normal couple today.”

I shook my head, grinning. “…Fine.”

He took another step towards me and, from seemingly thin air, produced a white daisy.

I sighed. I wanted to say ‘really?’, but I bit down my sarcasm, and took my flower.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful!” I said, adding a little more emotion than necessary.

He sighed heavily, making me laugh. “Come on, ma’am, we have a date.”

“Yes, sir.”

Our Airbnb was in a secluded property at the end of a dead-end granite driveway off of the main road. Instead of taking that direction, however, we walked towards the hike trail in the opposite direction. I wanted to ask what was on the huge backpack he’d brought, but I knew he was just waiting for the opportunity to tell me it was a surprise, so I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

He announced we had arrived when we reached a clearing amongst the trees. The grass and weeds were a little high, but nothing that made it impossible for us to sit down and enjoy ourselves. Especially because, as I soon discovered, Harry had a picnic blanket in his backpack. Because Harry had a whole picnic in his backpack.

“A picnic?!” I asked, excited.

“You like picnics?” He smiled, setting the blanket down.

“I love picnics!” I said, excitedly. “Don’t go to many, because… you know, outside, not very safe.”

“Yes, I do know.” He nodded, going through his bag, “Fortunately this place has enough privacy for us.”

“How did you even know to come here?”

“I googled it.” He replied, simply.

From his bag, he took out a bottle of sparkly wine and two ceramic looking plastic plates, which he sat down at opposite ends of the blanket. He then placed two linen napkins, folded, on top, with a set of cutlery over each.

“You thought this through.” I noticed.

“Of course I did.” He shrugged, removing a piece of paper from his pocket and reading it quickly. “I do have visual aids, though.”

In his bag, he also had acrylic Tupperware with a number of cheeses, which he then laid out on a wooden board. In another container, he had brought an assortment of cut veggies with a smaller cup inside, with ranch, which he remembered was my favorite. For our main course, he dramatically revealed large sandwiches from his favorite London restaurant, perfectly packaged and cut, for easier consumption. And for dessert, there were also a number of fruits and two small pots with what looked like cheesecakes.

“This is… incredible.”

He seemed the most flattered I had ever seen him.

“Thank you!” He said, folding his note quickly.

“Can I see that?”

“What? Oh, no, it’s just a little reminder of where things go–Oh–okay.”

I walked over to him and grabbed the paper before he could return it to his pocket; it was a list of instructions on how to set up the picnic, in his own handwriting. It even said ‘transfer cheese to wooden board’ and included a drawing of how to set up the napkins on top of the plates, with the cutlery on top of the napkins.

“This is… so sweet.” I gushed, watching him blush. “Where did you get this from?”

“I googled picnics.” He shrugged. “Well, first I googled first date ideas. Then saw the picnic idea and went on google street view to see if this place would be good for one. Then googled how to do a picnic.” He shrugged, grabbing the paper back and folding it. “Not a big deal.”

It was the way he blushed slightly and still made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal that he put in that much effort into giving us one afternoon where we could pretend we were a normal couple, untouched by tragedy. That’s what made my heart swoon for him.

I didn’t even have time to kiss him, though. He was so adamant to continue as if nothing was the problem that he just held my hand and sat down, pulling me with him.

“So…” He started, smiling. “So good that we are finally able to do this.”

“It is.” I agreed, amused.

“Wine?”

“Yes, please.”

“So, tell me, what is it that you do?” I laughed so loudly he reluctantly joined me.

“I’m sorry, it’s just too weird.”

“Come on!” He complained. “Like a normal first date, just go with it.”

“Okay, okay…” I sighed, still smiling. “What I do for a living… I… I am a lawyer.” He gave me an annoyed look. “What? If I’m talking to someone who doesn’t know what I do for a living, I’m not gonna tell them.”

“Fair. But be honest.”

I sighed. “Alright. I have a law degree from Harvard, which I’m really proud of, and I mostly have experience with copyright law… But I am not practicing right now.”

“Really? How so?”

I gave him an annoyed look this time. “I… I made a career change last year towards working on my… family business.”

He grinned. “How interesting.”

“Thank you. It’s been very rewarding.”

“I’m sure it wasn’t an easy choice to make.”

My smile faltered slightly. “It wasn’t fully my choice… But I’m happy with it, regardless.” I added, to assuage his reaction.

He nodded, silently. After a while, he added, “Are you?”

I shifted the position of my legs under me, using the time it took to think it through.

“Yes. Yes? I think so.” I shrugged. “Honestly, I haven’t really stopped to figure that out… Not exactly a priority.”

“It should be.”

I smiled. Not knowing how to change the subject, I reached out to the platter next to me and grabbed a piece of cheese.

“This is really good.” I added.

He smiled, accepting of the change of subject.

“Alright, time for you to ask something.”

“Oh. Okay… Uhm.” I finished chewing slowly as I thought about it. “Where… are you from? Originally?”

He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I’m from England.”

“Oh, really? Interesting.” I said, overly impressed. “Where in England?”

“London.” He added, grinning. “I was born and raised in Central London.”

“Fancy.” I added, appreciatively, making him chuckle. “Do you like living there?”

He considered this. “…not particularly.”

I stopped chewing. “Really?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know… I mean, I liked it, yes, in that… generic, mandatory way you always feel you must like the place you are from. Like, I will defend it if I must. But… if I had a choice, would I want to spend the rest of my life there? I’m not sure I would.”

“Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head. “Well.”

“Go on.” He said, grinning.

“Oh, I just mean… I love New York, it was one of the best experiences of my life living there for a year after law school, even if those memories are tainted with the presence of my ex… But as much as I love New York, and a lot of other places I’ve been to… coming home to Savoy is just…” I shrugged. “I don’t know, I couldn’t imagine staying away forever, you know? It’s home.”

He nodded. “I don’t know, I just don’t have that sense of attachment to England. To my family and friends, sure. But to the place? I don’t know. I don’t think so.”

We were silent for a while, eating cheese and drinking wine, and pondering over the words said. Then he perked up again, cheerily, and said,

“Tell me about your family.”

I gave the sky an eye roll. “…Fine.”

“Wow. So aggressive.” He noted, chuckling.

“Shut up.” I said. “Okay. Well, I’m the oldest of three. My brother was the middle child, but he passed away last year. He was three years younger than me and we got along really well. My sister is about eleven years younger than me, so we are not as close, though we’ve gotten a lot closer recently.”

“That’s nice to hear.” He smiled.

“My mother was born in Northern Savoy, her father is French, her mother is Savoyen. My grandfather has a property management and consultancy business, and my grandmother was always a stay-at-home mother. My mother only has one sister, Aunt Katherine, who’s now taken over my grandfather’s business, though her husband, Merlin, who is a Lord, seems to be making most of the calls. That is the root of most of the disagreements between my mother and Aunt, currently.”

“Tough.” He noted.

“Aunt Katherine has two children, Camille is the eldest, she’s been married to Hamilton Costeau for a few years, he’s a hotshot nightclub owner from the capital, and they’re expecting their first child currently. Her brother, Adam, is a freelance graphic designer, he’s married to a writer named Marcia. They’re probably my most normal relatives except that they’re wild, crazy hippies.”

He laughed. “How so?”

“They had a fully vegan wedding in a bowling alley and they live in a boat.”

He almost spit out his wine laughing. “What?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m gonna need more information.”

“There’s not really that much more to it. To be fair, the vegan menu was actually pretty good and bowling is fun. Haven’t been bowling since, so it’s a good memory. We don’t see them a lot, because of the boat.”

“When you say boat…?”

“Not a yatch or anything like that. It’s one of those small, house boats, like in Amsterdam? Except they actually use it to sail around since they’re both freelance and can work from anywhere.”

“Honestly… that sounds great.”

“They’re cool.” I nodded. “Let’s see… on my father’s side, he has two older sisters. Marilou Bondy is in her sixties, her husband is a Vice Admiral in the navy, and they have two kids in their mid-thirties. Zaccharie, married to Amber, they have two kids who are three and five years-old. Zacc is a business manager in a shipping company, his wife has a graduate degree in Psychology, but now is a stay-at-home mom. Zacc’s sister, Heloise, is CEO of a multinational company, and her husband is a doctor. They’re by far my relatives who’ve got it together the most.”

“Sounds like it, those are some big jobs. They have kids?”

“A two year old, adorable. All my cousin’s children are. We have good genes.” He laughed. “Let me see, what else? My father’s second oldest sister, Stephanie, married a Lord of Luxembourg, uncle Ellis, so they live there. They have three kids, Josephine, Klaus, and Catarina.”

“Klaus! I know Klaus!” He said, happily, “Love Klaus. He’s fun!”

“Yes, he’s… very you.” I noted, amused. “How did you two meet, anyway?”

“Oh, he met a friend of mine during gap year, so my friend introduced us at a festival later on.”

“Of course.” I nodded. “As you know, he works for an investment firm. His youngest sister, Catarina, is twenty-three, she took a few years after school to figure it out, so she’s still finishing her degree. And the oldest, Josephine, is an interior designer, and she’s actually getting married next month, to Marius Allard, who owns a network of gyms in Luxembourg.”

“Royal wedding?” He asked.

“A small one, but yes.”

“You going?”

 “Yes.” I smiled. “Anyway. Then, there’s my father, the middle child, oldest brother, and they also have two youngest brothers. Or, had. Adrien’s father died many years ago of lymphoma, so now Adrien is next in line for the throne after Lourdes. You know him, so no need to go into it.”

“How is he doing in New York, by the way?” He asked, pouring us more wine. “I read he and the singer were seen partying in a boat?”

“For the fourth of July, yes.” I nodded. “My father and the advisors are… how can I say it? Pissed.” He chuckled. “Celebrating an American holiday, half naked, in a boat, with a bunch of celebrities, including his pink-haired girlfriend… they want him to come back.”

“Of course they do.”

“Adrien has a younger sister, Natalie, who’s my favorite.” I said, gushing. “She’s awesome, sweet, positive, always down for a good chat, though not big into parties or crowds–”

“So, the opposite of Adrien?”

“Yes.” I laughed. “Nat is getting her masters in Sorbonne, she studies literature and communications. Their mom, Princess Annette, has been a working royal for many years. Finally, my youngest uncle, Prince Albert, is also a working royal. He divorced his wife about five years ago, which was a huge scandal at the time, but we’ve managed to ride it out, and now everyone gets along fine. His ex-wife is even still a working royal, as well.”

“Woah.” He said, brows raised. “We could learn a thing or two from about how to handle divorce in a healthy way.”

“Agreed.” I said, teasing. “They have three kids. Maryanne is eighteen, currently serving her minimum military course post-graduation. Her brother James is sixteen, he’s in boarding school in Switzerland, and Sarah, who’s ten, attends the same boarding school as Lourdes… and that’s it. Unless you want to hear about my extended family, in which case we might be here a while.”

He nodded. While he digested the info-dump I’d just given him, I took the time to finish my wine and have some veggies and ranch.

“Question.” He said, unwrapping our sandwiches, “Why did you only mention two or three working royals?”

“My father’s oldest sisters lost their title upon marriage, and Aunt Stephanie lives in Luxembourg. Aunt Marilou and her husband do work sometimes, but that’s mostly because of her husband’s Admiral job. So, it’s mostly my father and his brothers who work for the Crown. Since Uncle James died, Adrien and his mom work, too, although he’s in New York now. His sister is still in school, so she’s excused. And that leaves uncle Albert and his ex-wife, and their kids are too young. There’s also some cousins of my father who are working royals, though they also have private careers.”

He nodded. “So that’s why you said you would have to become a working royal eventually.”

“Yep. That’s why a lot of the burden was already mine before, and also why I knew it would eventually be mine again. I just… I had hoped I’d have some time in-between.”

“Well,” he took the cheese platter and moved it to the side, leaning in closer to me. “You have time now.”

“I do, don’t I?” I smiled. “What should I do with it?”

“I have an idea.” He grinned, leaning in the rest of the way to touch his lips to mine.

His hand cupped my jaw as we kissed, my skin warm either from the sun or his touch. I put my glass down, mindlessly, not caring when I felt it fall to the grass. I slid my hand across his hair and laid back down, pulling him on top of me.

It was just one afternoon of borrowed time, but it was ours.

— ---- —

It was a cloudy summey day, not great weather for a royal wedding, but it would have to do because Princess Josephine Anne-Marie Elyse of Luxembourg was ready to become Mrs. Marius Allard.

Normally, we wouldn’t all go to a royal wedding just because we were royals, but we were family this time, so we arrived, my family and I, in Luxembourg two nights before. The rehearsal dinner went without a hitch, and so the following morning we got ready in our hotel and waited with other foreign family members for the shutles that would drive us to the church.

I had changed Harry’s contact on my phone to Hedwig – a name I took from Harry Potter – just in case someone saw me texting him, which was bound to happen as were texting so much more often. This didn’t stop my heart from nearly freezing when I received a photo from him. It was a mirror selfie showcasing him in his ceremony military uniform, black and red, with medals to his chest. The text read: ‘beautiful day for a wedding’.

I sighed; A few weeks prior to this, Harry had excitedly informed me during a late-night facetime call, that his family had assigned him to represent them to Josephine’s wedding.

“Why?!” I asked then, astonished.

“Ouch.” He said, sarcastic. “I’m great at weddings.”

“I’m not saying you’re not.” I said, rolling my eyes. “And of course I want to see you! But… my whole family is going to be there! Isn’t your father supposed to do these things? Or your uncle?”

“My father will be busy, my uncle was going to go, yes, but turns out his son has pneumonia so he’s staying put.” He shrugged. “And since I know Klaus, they figured I would be more familiar to the bride and groom than my brother.”

I was quiet, biting my lower lip nervously.

“What? This is good! I’m excited I get to see you all dolled up so soon!”

But I couldn’t get my excitement to match his – and I tried. It was just too risky, not to mention it felt like the day would be torture. To be near him again and have to pretend I didn’t want to hold his hand? Kiss his lips? Rip the clothes right off his body? It was too much.

Sighing, I went to the bathroom and discreetly took my own mirror selfie showcasing my light pink dress with a darker pink on a slit falling from my hips, and my large disc fascinator, and texted it to him.

‘It is unfair how perfect you look’, he replied. It made me smile, and I tried to hold on to that feeling as we rode to the church.

As family, we were close to the last group to arrive, so when I walked down the red carpeted entrance towards the church behind my parents, all I could think was that Harry must already be inside.

We trotted behind, stopping to salute the military battalion in formation under the country’s flag – a Luxembourg tradition. Military personnel saluted, civilians lowered their heads or curtsied. Since mandatory minimum service was still considered service, I saluted with my father, as mom and Lourdes curtsied.

Inside, we were ushered to the front of the church by a palace aide. Because of the odd number of seats, our parents and I were seated one row in front of Lourdes, who found herself sitting between, of all people, Adrien and Harry.

My parents greeted Adrien, who was there fresh from a plane from New York, and then looked at Harry, who received from then a curt nod before they turned to the front.

"How's...? Uhm?" I started, as my cousin kissed my cheeks.

"Sienna?" He asked, sighing. "Her name is Sienna."

"Right. Sienna."

"She's good. She's recording a new album." He replied.

"How... fortuitous." I nodded, as he took his seat again.

Before I sat down, Harry managed to give me a sneaky wink. I blushed, and turned to the front.

We seemed to be the last frontier between family and important guests, as next to Harry sat other royals and in front of us, were mostly empty seats that filled quickly after we arrived.

Just as the music started, Lourdes, who'd been chatting excitedly between Adrien and Harry, sighed loudly and stage-whispered,

"Ah, damn, I'll barely be able to see Josephine from here." She complained. “Margueritte’s hat is too big.”

As calm as I could, I turned to her, taking the care to make myself sound annoyed. "Do you want to trade seats?"

"Really?" She asked, "Is that allowed?"

I looked at my parents, who were already discreetly looking at us.

"Is it?" I asked.

"I believe so." My father said.

Mom leaned closer to me. "Are you sure you don't mind, chérie?"

I smiled, already getting to my feet. "It's fine. At least this way she'll be quiet."

"I heard that." Lourdes said as she passed me by.

I took her seat and crossed my legs at my ankles, holding my head high facing forward, pretending I didn't see the grin on Harry's face. 

Josephine looked breathtaking; lace bodice, three quarter sleeves, flowy, tulle, ball gown skirt, hair pinned back in a low hairdo, a long veil falling down from her family’s tiara – a Luxembourg tiara –, matching diamond earrings. It was difficult to take my eyes from her, except from one thing.

Harry was touching my hand. His fingers very gently grazed mine, slowly stretching until our middle fingers were enlaced. It was such a simple gesture. Such a light touch. But so many people around who were not meant to know about us. My heart beat faster on my chest and I felt my skin warmer as I remembered all the other ways in which that hand had touched me. I risked a look at him, who stared ahead determinedly.

As the song came to a slow end, I pulled my hand from his, startled, thinking for some reason the silence would make us more visible.

The priest began to speak in a monotone, calm voice up front. By my side, Harry adjusted himself in his seat, leaving his left knee to lightly, but very deliberately, touch mine.

I bit down a grin, sighing. Thinking two could play this game, I reached for the neckline of my dress with my hand, adjusting it slightly as if to fix something, but ‘accidentally’ pulling it down sligthly. As it was V shaped, this enlarged my cleavage only slightly, especially as I crossed my arms over my lap, pulling my breasts together.

I stared ahead, ignoring Harry, but I felt his leg press harder against mine.

“Beautiful wedding, isn’t it?” I whispered to him, pointing my chest in his direction.

“Is this another catholic tradition?” He whispered very lightly leaning closer to me. I smiled, blushing.

I looked down at my lap, fiddling with the program. I had no idea where we were on it, which is why I startled again as suddenly everyone rose from their seats to sing another hymn. I followed, pulling my dress up nervously, but I did leave my arm down hoping Harry would touch my hand again.

It took him what felt like the whole song, but then he finally did. I allowed my own fingers to caress his this time, missing being able to touch him, feeling my palms sweating as the thought.

When we sat down again, and someone else started speaking, he leaned down slowly and asked, whispery:

“Truth or dare?”

I sighed dramatically, and gave him a stern look, hiding my amusement.

“Truth.” I mouthed.

He grinned, and leaned down again. “What were you thinking about during the song?”

What he was asking was, of course, ‘what were you thinking about while our hands touched secretly in the middle of this very full church?’

I leaned to him, but starting ahead, said, “About how good it felt last time you fingered me–”

He sighed, heavily, leaning away from me, adjusting his tie as if it was the most important thing in the world.

He didn’t allow me to ask it back, his eyes stared firmly and frustratingly ahead for the rest of the – very long – service.

When Josephine and Marius walked out as husband and wife, we all waited for their close families to follow and then to the aides to guide us away at the right time. Harry continued to deliberately look away from me at all times. 

We were ushered back into the shuttles with the rest of the family, everyone talking excitedly about their favorite moments of the ceremony. I kept my comments to the dress, the only part I remembered in detail.

The reception was held in the palace; I didn’t see Harry again for a very long time. No one seemed to have noticed anything out of the ordinary, other than Lourdes who asked if I was mad at him because we seemed to have ‘barely spoken’.

As all the guests were in their seats, I finally found Harry in a distant table with other foreign royals who weren’t family. There were speeches, there were dances, there were entrées and champagne, and Harry’s eyes continued to find mine whenever I looked at him. Luckily, I was able to distract myself by my family grilling Adrien about his inappropriate girlfriend.

Conversation was the sound of the night in between courses when I decided to find a bathroom to re-apply my lipstick.

“If you pass by a waiter, would you ask for someone to bring me more water?” Lourdes asked as I left.

“I’m not your maid.”

“Really? It’ll cost nothing–”

“Shut up, of course I’ll do it.”

She rolled her eyes in response.

I was distracted, looking around for a waiter, when my eyes found Harry’s again. This time, too intense to look away. He put his hands in his pocket and pointedly walked out of the hall.

I sighed. It was too idiotic a choice to follow him. Yet, there I was. My feet moving of their own accord.

He walked off down the hallway, calm as can be, stopping only to ask an aide for directions. Down another hallway, he turned to the right, before confidently opening a door, turning back to lock his eyes on mine, and walk inside.

I bit my lower lip and looked around. There was a staff member walking off in the distance, but no one around other than that. I didn’t know if that would last. I walked to the door,  and casually looked around one more time. No one was watching. No one around. I took in a deep breath, and walked inside.

I quickly closed the door behind me, but I had no time to notice anything else. Harry’s lips were on mine, strongly, arms framing me in place against the door. One hand turned the lock, the other traveled up and down my side, his heavy breath on my skin.

“That was not okay.” He said, voice low, anguished, against my neck. “Back there.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, innocently. “All I remember is a lovely ceremony.”

He grinned against my neck in between kisses. “Fuck you.”

"It's true.”

“You liked when I fingered you, right?” He asked, lightly biting my earlobe. “Maybe I should do it again, then.”

My whole body trembled at the thought of going back outside, pretending nothing had happened, still pulsating with his touch on me.

“…maybe you should.” I said, weakly, feeling his large hand grasp my breast. “Right here. Right now.”

“…that would be really stupid, now, wouldn’t it?” He asked, reaching down for the hem of my dress, pulling it upwards. “We wouldn’t want to be caught… what would they think?”

“It would be such a scandal.” I agreed, feeling his hands now grip my thighs, pulling me up in one quick move.

He pinned against the wall, legs around his waist, leaving me in the perfect position to feel him thrusting his hardened dick against my crotch.

He touched his forehead to mine, and grinned.

“You’re fucking torture, Your Royal Highness.”

I grinned, happily, wrapping my legs tighter around him.

“You like it.”

He smiled in response, his hands rounded my thighs to reach below in between my legs, finding a path under my wet underwear.

“I do.” He confessed, touching me like it was the very first time. “I like it a lot.”

--- ---- ---

[A/N: Well. This was a lot. LOL what do you think??? A lot of...stuff coming so I wanted to take a chapter for happiness only. Also, I promise all that family tree stuff is important. THANK YOU FOR READING AND SORRY I’M LATE! Have a grat week! Next chapter: invictus games! harry’s birthday! MM and Harry get careless... tune in to find out what happens ;) ]

[yonmissnoname]

Okay, so I won't be back on Tumblr untill sunday (since I am on vacation and afraid that I will see spoilers before I return on sunday and watch Wizards at home) but I wanted to show our lil' fandom my creation before Wizards comes out:

A Trollhunters graduatiln cap with the (shortened) destiny speech!

(You can't read the silver marker on the outer circle but I wrote: For the glory of Merlin daylight is mine to command. For the glory of Jim my future is mine to command.)

(and yes, I made a few spelling mistakes, but I was in a hurry when I wrote it!)

I finished (and started) it today, because my friends and I designed our caps during our holidays. We already graduated a few weeks ago, but we live in a country that doesn't have graduation robes or caps. One of my friends suprised us with these caps on our first day of vacation and we decided to paint them today.

I know that doesn't look the prettiest ig could be, but my handwriting is terrible and we only had limited supplies (since we only had what could fit inside my friends suitcase).

Trollhunters always inspired me and the destiny speech has been one of my favourite quotes ever since I first watched Trollhunters.

If I manage to do it right, then there will be the step by step pics of how the cap came to be (aka my process. Forgive me in advance, because my english isn't the best)

(God, I hope the "keep reading"-thingy works)

[[MORE]]

Ok, so I started with a normal graduation cap (duh.)

I first searched some reference pics online and used these:

I drew the outline of the amulet on a white piece of paper (since we didn't have grey or silver paper) with the help of cups, glasses, bottle caps and marker caps (I would advise you to use a compass, if you have one around. I didn't so I tried to improvise).

I added the outline of the upper/side/lower detail (I have no idea what it's calmed, but you will see in a second) on the paper to finish the general outline and base of the amulet:

(the weird circle in the middle is where the tassel will be (It'll make sense later).

Now I started drawing details and that was truly nervewrecking (because you can see in the pictures above (and will se in the rest of the pictures) that I am not an artist... at all).

I also thought about the text on the amulet and decided to write both the original and an individual version. For the individual versiln I decided on: For the glory of Jim my future is mine to command. At first I wanted to write "For the glory of the trollhunters" but that wouldn't have fit space wise. This is what it looked like before colouring:

(the X stands for the areas that I need to cut out)

Next thing I did was painting the amulet in different shades of gray (since I didn't actually have multiple pencils or acrylic paint or sth) and cut out everything that isn't made of metal in the original.

I used a black fine liner for the outline and details.

After I was finished I glued the "metal" part of the amulet on a piece of paper that had a blue pattern (I knew that I didn't have the materials (or skills) to recreate the stone of the amulet, but I saw the pattern and thoughg that it would do. Again: improvising my way to the finish line):

I finished of the amulet by writing on the outer circle with a silver pen that you can't really see on the picture (...bad planning on my part, sorry) and drawing the title lines around the amulet:

I used a light blue piece of paper for the base of my cap, since we didn't have black or dark blue paper and glued the amulet in the middle before writing down the shorter version of the destiny speech with a black marker. I measured my cap beforehand, decided that I wanted to have black rim all around and cut the paper accordingly:

(I didn't write the first and last sentence in cursive, because I wanted them to stand out (also the reason why I underlined them). I should have planned the placement of the words better, but I was in a hurry since my friends already finished their caps by the time I dtartdd writing the speech)

The last thing I did was erase the guising penckl lines and glue the whole piece on the cap itself with double-sided tape.

And after what feels like forever:

My trollhunters graduation cap!

Props, if you made it this far and let's enjoy Wizards when the season drops tomorrow!

I am already super excited^^

[aye-write]

Summary: Research student Isla Reid has been fascinated with the legend of the Kildonian Chessmen - a trio of mythical Pokemon rumoured to have lived centuries ago on the remote region of Kildo - for as long as she can remember. So, when a museum exhibit on the Chessmen is set to open in Kildo’s Hydrogate City, coinciding with her independent research project, she packs herself and her trusty partner Furret onto the long ferry journey bound for this new region. 

 However, when she arrives in Kildo, thoughts of her research, new friends, and an entire Pokedex’s worth of new Pokemon, are quickly dashed. Kildo is a troubled place, beset by natural disasters and fierce rivalries among its people. Isla suddenly finds herself at the centre of a centuries-old plot to invoke the wrath of the Chessmen, and is set on a race against time to stop them, before it spells destruction for the entire region.

Other Links: Read it on Ao3!

Tags: OC Pokemon journey, OC region, Fakemon region, bisexual main character, found family, ace main character.

If you are not interested in these posts, especially as I know Pokemon journeyfic is fairly niche, please blacklist the tag #Checkmate. Most of the story will be put under a Readmore anyway!

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! This is just a quick author's note today! Thanks to everyone who has read and commented! I hope you enjoy another chonk of a chapter and that the starters' introduction went okay! There were a LOT of Pokedex entries this week, so I won't be including them all in the author's note this time, but you can head over to our tumblr @kildo-pokedex​ to see them in full! See you in two weeks, everyone!

*****

Chapter Four

Things moved fast that night. Too fast. Morning dawned, dappling the sky with tangerine oranges and cotton candy pinks, and Isla soon found herself packed and standing on the doorstep of the cottage she’d almost come to think of as home.

Rhona fussed over Skye’s layers and blankets for so long that Isla thought they’d never get away. Even Blair started to look nervous, casting pointed glances first at his watch and then at his mother. It would be a long walk, he said loudly, at least five hours of walking, and they needed to get on. Finally Rhona got the hint and passed over a mammoth bag of sandwiches, juice, and crisps – enough to sustain an army for about a week – and both parents said their goodbyes. Rhona’s eyes were wet with tears when she broke her hug with her daughter.

Isla moved forward, meaning just to offer thanks, but before she could open her mouth, Rhona swept her into a rib-crunching hug.

“Now you be careful out there, chick,” Rhona said, her breath tickling the whorls of Isla’s ear. “You always have a home here with us, alright? Don’t you dare be a stranger. I expect to see you again here before you go back to Johto, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Isla said, her voice thick.

Kenneth shook her hand next, his huge fingers easily engulfing hers. He had a firm grip, yet surprisingly soft hands, and when Isla drew back, she found he’d slipped her two crisp twenty pokedollar notes.

“Kenneth, thank you, but I can’t take—”

“You take care of yourself,” he said firmly.

Isla decided not to argue. Especially when it was the most the giant man had ever said to her in one go before.

Blair took his mother’s hug with an embarrassed grimace, nodding along to a laundry list of instructions she hurled his way. Make sure you take frequent breaks. Don’t let Skye go wandering on her own. Make sure you feed a Clatty if you see one, it’s good luck. Don’t dare go any further than Aberdrip. Eventually, Kenneth clamped his hand on Rhona’s shoulder, and she stopped.

“I suppose you best be going, eh?” she said, forcing a quivering smile. “Before it gets too late on. Have fun, darlings. Call me when you get there. Be safe.”

“Thanks for everything, Rhona,” Isla said, her voice catching. She had to turn around to shield her face from view.

Blair, who had been battling to fit Rhona’s supplies into their travelling bag, grunted with satisfaction as he finally got the zip up, leaving the bag bulging like an overripe balloon. He felt around at his waist, unhooked a Pokeball, and tossed it over the gate.

“Coastrot, come out!”

Isla let out a breath as the ball burst open and she came face to face with Blair’s Pokemon. Easily reaching Blair’s shoulders, it had a long, lithe body with a clipped coat the colour of the ocean under the morning sky. Even when it stayed still, its mane and tail rippled like plumes of gentle flowing water. It was a stunning Pokemon – right down to its dark, inquisitive eyes and glistening hooves – but there was something unusual about it that Isla couldn’t quite put her finger on. As she stared, Coastrot’s body seemed to blur, wavering in front of her like a picture on a TV with a dodgy signal.

Blair saw her staring. “Touch him,” he suggested.

Isla frowned, uncertain. Under Blair’s watchful eye, she reached out to touch this new Pokemon, only for her hand to slip straight through its body, as easily as if she had just put her hand through a hologram. She whipped her hand away like she’d just been shocked. The Pokemon’s body turned solid again the moment Blair touched it to string up one of the bags.

Isla consulted her Pokedex. “Coastrot, the Mirage Pokemon. Its translucent body refracts light, and it will often appear as though it is surrounded by rainbows. If it doesn’t trust someone, they will not be able to touch it. This is seen as an unlucky omen by some.”

“Amazing,” she said. “So it only lets people it trusts touch it?”

“That’s right,” Blair nodded.  “Coastrot is actually the evolved form of one of the Kildo starters. He was my starter, so he’s been in the family a long time, but it still wasn’t easy for him to trust all of us. He lets me touch him, of course, and Skye, and sometimes Dad, but Mum is still a tricky case. Since he’s only just met you, it may take him a while to warm up.”

“That’s okay,” Isla held her hand out for the Pokemon to sniff. Its nose passed straight through her hand, a sensation rather like she’d plunged her hand into a bucket of ice-cold water. “I’m sure we’ll get along fine.”

Blair clapped on Coastrot’s haunches, signalling everything was secured. He called for Skye and helped boost her up, Isla holding her breath as she entertained a vision of Skye sinking right through the Pokemon’s ethereal back. Luckily, Coastrot remained solid and strong, allowing Skye to settle herself.

“Hold onto his mane, there,” Blair fussed. “No, not there. That’s too tight. Just there, look.”

Skye made several wide-eyed glances over the Pokémon’s massive haunches as Blair made the final checks. Isla offered her a smile.

“I take it that you won’t be going for Coastrot’s evolution for your first Pokemon, then?” she whispered.

Skye shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Definitely not.”

As she waited, a breath of wind lifted the hair from Isla’s forehead, already moist with sweat from the heat of the beating sun. She’d dressed light, in a loose, billowing top two sizes up from her normal, and a pair of comfortable jogging trousers, but she still worried about the journey. The bag slung on her shoulders didn’t feel heavy now, but walking would leaden it. She’d sprayed most of a bottle of antiperspirant on herself before setting out, but she still had doubts about its efficiency. She could only hope they would take it slow and she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

“That’s us,” Blair announced. “We’re ready to go.”

And with one final look back at the Whispering Pines Croft, they set off.

**

Having left the confines of the family croft, Blair switched into serious mode. He had done some travelling when he was younger, he explained as they walked, enough to know the basics, and he’d made the journey between Aberdrip and Port Glen enough times to pick out the best route to accommodate Coastrot. Their chosen path along Route 1 started out as a stretch of delightfully flat ground, buffeted by a strong, salt-smelling, easterly wind. After an hour, the flat paths became bumpy and wild, grass rising as high as their knees, the tips of trees bordering the horizon.

Blair told them stories as they walked, a welcome distraction for the pain needling through Isla’s legs. He brought them to a stop at the peak of a hill to point out Loch Culla in the distance, a shimmering body of water neatly fringed with trees. A place claimed to be the home of an entire family of shiny Kildonian Lapras.

Skye’s shriek of excitement at this news startled Coastrot, and Blair had to dart to her rescue in case she was catapulted off. She wasn’t fazed. She still insisted on making the detour so they could go hunting for one. Blair laughed. The loch was a protected area for that exact purpose, he explained, and catching Pokemon wasn’t allowed there.

“But we can manage a picnic nearby,” Blair added when Skye’s face fell. “Come on, let’s go.”

Back to walking it was. Isla forced herself back to her feet. To give Blair his dues, he factored in plenty of breaks, at every rest stop or every half an hour, whichever came first. He said he wanted Coastrot to get plenty of rest, as he wasn’t used to carrying weight over long distances. Isla wasn’t sure how true that was, but she was grateful all the same. If Blair and Skye saw her flushed face, sweat patches, and occasional gasps for breath, they were very kind and didn’t draw attention to it.

As promised, they unpacked a picnic at the bank of Loch Culla and shared out sandwiches, fruit, and flavoured waters. Sitting in the shade, listening to the water lapping against the bank, and sipping their drinks fresh from the cool bag, Isla felt totally at peace, despite the numbing aches sprouting in the back of her calves. Blair recalled Coastrot for a proper rest, but Isla released Soba and Wingull to stretch their legs and wings. To keep Wingull amused, but more to stop him stealing, she lobbed his food into the air, sending him swooping and diving over the loch and into the deep grass in pursuit.

Skye didn’t eat much, her eyes trained on the still loch water. When Blair nudged her back to reality, she folded her arms and said, “Blair, I’m looking for Lapras. Leave me alone.”

Isla saw him roll his eyes, but when he spoke to his sister, his tone was nothing but gentle and respectful. “You won’t see them, Skye. It’s massively rare to see a Kildonian Lapras out in the open. They live pretty much entirely underwater. Proper deep down.”

Isla looked up from her sandwich. “Do they? They don’t in Johto.”

“Yep. Kildonian ones are different types too. Ours are Ghost and Dragon.”

“Water and Ice for us.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty different, isn’t it? I think the mainland variant travel a lot, but you can pretty much trace all Kildonian Lapras to just one or two lochs here. They don’t move around a lot. Hence why the area is protected.”

“It doesn’t look protected?” Isla said, looking around. There wasn’t a stitch of modern technology to be seen. No buildings. No cameras. Heck, there didn’t even seem to be any other people around other than just them. “There’s nothing here.”  

“Doesn’t need to be. See that sign?” Blair pointed out a sign nailed to a nearby tree. A bold, crimson X was splayed across a black and white image of a Pokeball. “That sign lets us know that there’s Anti-Pokeball Interference here. API for short.” When he saw Isla’s blank face, he frowned. “I don’t know exactly how it works, but basically, Dad said that it transmits some sort of signal that humans and Pokemon can’t hear, but it scrambles the capture mechanism on all Pokeballs. Makes them nothing more than fancy paperweights.”

“We certainly don’t have that in Johto.”

“It’s pretty new. Just come into fashion over the last year. Lot of folks don’t like it, though. I think they had protests out in Tideburgh. They say it violates our rights to catch Pokemon and that it’s going to lead to overpopulation. If you ask me, it’s a load of Tauros shi— uh, nonsense,” he corrected himself when Skye turned her head.

They lapsed into silence, Isla pretending to be fascinated with her sandwich crusts. They’d gone dry and hard in the sun, and she nibbled at them ineffectively. Wingull, amazingly, had eaten its fill and had nestled with his head (mostly) under one stubby wing. Soba, who had been luxuriating in the sun, had fallen asleep curled around a bottle of lemonade. Blair lay back in the grass, his eyes shut, making occasional contented noises. Skye was scribbling something in a notebook patterned with Slugma.

“We’ll head off soon,” Blair yawned. “I just want to rest my eyes for a few minutes.”

The soft noise of snoring drifted over the wind moments later. Isla had to resist the urge to join him. Sitting down had been fatal. Now her eyes felt as heavy as her legs and the thought of getting up again made tiredness sink into the very pit of her. She could shut her eyes for a few minutes, she reasoned. Just a few minutes. Just a few—

“Isla!” a voice cut through her thoughts. “Isla! Isla, look!”

Isla had to force open her eyes, gummed together like chewy toffee. Skye was on her feet, pointing at the nearby undergrowth.

“What’s goin—”

“Shush!” Skye hissed. “Just look!”

In amongst the green, leafy fronds was a flash of something dull and brown. It emerged from the grass like a Furret in miniature. It had a long, snake-like body, the colour of dark chocolate, and a cream underbelly. Its sharp, inquisitive nose twitched, and its tail swished like an over-eager feather duster.

“What is that?” Isla gasped, pulling her Pokedex out.

“It’s a Mudstel!” Skye said, just as Isla’s Pokedex chirped “Mudstel, the Mud Ferret Pokemon. Curious, but shy, Mudstel rely on their stealth and environment when hunting. They blend in well among trees and bushes, but if spotted, will quickly burrow underground to escape.”

“Gosh, it must be hungry if it’s come right out in the open!” Skye breathed out. “Can we try feeding it?”

“Yeah, if you like. Try it with the crusts there.”

Skye offered the Mudstel some of the uneaten crusts. The Pokemon held back, its nose twitching, eyes unblinking. Skye stretched her hand out further.

“Wait, Skye. Stay as still as you can,” Isla advised, not even daring to breathe too loudly in case she startled it. Skye’s wavering arm came to a stop. “That’s it. Let it come to you.”

After a few moments, the Mudstel stretched out its long, ribbon-like body. Skye looked like she was about to burst from excitement, but somehow, managed to stay still. Isla caught a glimpse of sharp white teeth as Mudstel opened its mouth and snatched the crusts from Skye’s hand. It didn’t pause to eat them, just turned on its heels, and dove back into the undergrowth.

They waited, but Mudstel didn’t come back out.

Skye looked crestfallen as the grass went still. “Bread crusts aren’t all that nutritious,” she said mournfully. “I wish it had stayed and I could have given it some Pokemon food. I think we even have some Pokemon Rock. That would have been even better for it.”

Isla made a sympathetic noise. “Maybe we can leave some pellets for it when we pack up and leave?”

“Maybe. But I wish I could have caught it. I don’t want it to end up starving. Mudstel wouldn’t come out and take food from humans if it could help it.”

“Some Pokemon are just opportunistic, Skye. He probably has plenty of chances to get food and then saw us and thought “Oh yes, a free lunch!” Pokemon are clever. They can take care of themselves.”

“I suppose.”

Isla slung an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. “Try not to worry,” she said. “We’ll be in Aberdrip soon and you’ll have your very own Pokemon before you know it.”

“I know,” Skye said. “I just… wish I could make friends with all of them. I don’t want any of them to suffer.”

“Then I think that means you’ll be a good trainer.”

Skye smiled. Isla’s heart skipped a little. Could this really be the first time that she had ever seen the younger girl smile?

A sudden kerfuffle sent them both looking over Blair, who snorted and pushed himself upright, making a strange gulping noise. “I wasn’t asleep! I wasn’t… sleeping?” He looked blearily across at Skye and Isla. “Was I sleeping?”

They didn’t answer. Instead, the noise of their laughter echoed across the loch like water tinkling from a waterfall.

**

They had stopped for another break on Route 3, a densely wooded path littered with fallen leaves and fresh with the smell of moss, when Blair got a text through on his phone.

Immediately, he was dialling a number, face twisted, and one hand covering his ear to block out the shrill shriek of the local Caperchick. A Caperchick, as Isla had found out was another of Kildo’s resident bird Pokemon. Pretty much helpless as babies, they were only able to eat, sleep, and call for help from others in their family group. Isla had hoped to see one, but Blair dissuaded her, explaining their later evolutions were territorial and aggressive. Most wouldn’t take kindly to humans on their turf.

It still didn’t stop her, or Skye, from hoping. Skye got up to wander four times while Blair stepped away to speak on the phone, poking at the bases of trees and among tall grasses. Or maybe she was just doing it to fill the time. Whatever conversation Blair was having, it was taking a lot of it.  

When Blair did eventually return, his face was pale. “That was Mum on the phone.”

Isla’s instant thought was Nana Morag. “Is everything okay?”

“Kind of. She’s just back from the hospital. Nana Morag is doing better, they think she’ll be alright to come home soon as long as she gets plenty of bed rest.”

“Did they find out what it was that made her ill?”

“They’re still waiting on some test results,” Blair said, worry creasing his eyebrows into one long caterpillar. “She said she’ll phone me as soon as they hear. Now, the other thing. Mum said she had a voicemail waiting for her when she got out of the hospital. It was one of Professor Spruce’s aides.”

Skye stopped what she was doing, pricking her head up.

“There was some problem with the breeders they use to supply the new trainers and they don’t have enough to supply everyone who wanted one.”

Skye looked ready to burst into tears. Blair saw this and quickly assured, “Don’t panic, Skye. They’ve just moved it to a booking system instead to try and get as many folks sorted as possible today. Mum gave me the number and I called the aide. You’re still getting your Pokemon – as long as we get there in time.”

Skye visibly relaxed but Isla felt like something had severed her at the chest. “When’s Skye’s slot?”

“2pm. It was the only one I could get. All the others were filled.  

Isla looked at the time on her phone. It was already ten to one.  

“Yeah,” Blair said, as Isla caught his eye. “We need to hurry.”

**

Isla hoped that adrenaline would see them through. That they could power on the remaining couple of miles without feeling the pain or the tiredness, subsisting only on the rush of purpose to get there. But it was hell. Pure hell. As they half walked, half jogged along unsteady ground, the air dense and muggy, the heat of the sun dripped down their backs.

I can’t let Skye down, Isla told herself as she dragged her aching limbs over the nobbled hump of yet another hillock. I’ll never forgive myself if I let her down.

Once, when the shooting pain of a stitch left her doubled over, she told Blair and Skye to go on without her. But she didn’t even get to finish her sentence before Blair cut in with “Absolutely not. We’re going together,” and that was the end of it.  

As it ticked closer and closer, the clouds receded, and the sun intensified. The air remained stubbornly heavy and humid. Finally, they were over another hill and Aberdrip loomed in the distance, a monochrome city with silver buildings reaching up like metallic petals. They didn’t stop to take in much else. Feet pounding the concrete, each step sending pinpricks of pain up Isla’s legs, Blair hailed a taxi. In one confusing bundle of recalled Pokemon, sorting of bags, and too many legs in one small space, they clambered in. Within minutes, they were speeding along the blurred roads, the streets like smears of running ink.

Professor Spruce’s lab sat right at the western outskirts of Aberdrip in a plot of land closed off by wrought iron gates. The taxi driver dropped them off at the bottom, and after buzzing through to the office, they were on their way up the vicious uphill path to Professor Spruce’s lab.

Stumbling through the front door, trembling with exertion, Isla checked her phone. Three minutes to two. They’d made it.

A concerned looking aide lead them through a maze of breezeblocked hallways. Skye stuck so close to Blair that they practically became one person. The aide opened a door at the end of a particularly long corridor, and they emerged into a room groaning with workbenches and strange equipment that wouldn’t have looked amiss in an old sci-fi film. The room was wonderfully chilled, the overhead fans pumping in swathes of cool air.

Blair and Skye gave the aide their names, Blair signed a proffered sheet, and then they were shepherded through into an adjoining room. As they stepped through, Isla felt the eyes of a dozen people land on her.

“Ah, Skye McLeod, is it?” came a voice from ahead of them. “Excellent. I was starting to worry you weren’t coming.”

Skye tensed next to Isla as the woman who had spoken – Isla assumed this was Professor Spruce – beckoned them forward. She was small, rounded, with greying hair slung into a messy bun. Her eyes were sharp, glinting like the sheen of ice over a frozen puddle. Easily a foot shorter than everyone else in the room, she still commanded everyone’s attention.

With a wave of her hand, Professor Spruce separated Skye and the two other young trainers – one girl and one boy – from their respective guardians. Isla collapsed gratefully into a nearby chair. Blair was rigid in his own seat as Professor Spruce took the new trainers through the standard “First Pokemon” spiel. It was a comforting lecture, so much so that mixed with the relief they had made it in time, Isla soon felt her eyelids drooping.

Then, voices surged.

“I want to go first!”

“No, I’m going first!”

“Enough!” Professor Spruce barked, her voice tight. “Being a Pokemon trainer isn’t about who goes first. It’s not even about getting exactly what you want. If you go into this life expecting to get what you want all the time, you are setting yourself up for failure Pokemon are as unique and individual as each one of you. A “weak” Pokemon can become strong from the right training and support. On your journey as trainers, I encourage you to open your hearts and minds. Embrace all that this region has to offer you. Take a chance on people – and Pokemon – you might not expect to. They might just surprise you. Now, young lady…” Professor Spruce’s eyes fixed on Skye, who had been sitting quietly the whole way through. “Why don’t you come up and pick your partner?”

Frozen under the expectant gaze, Skye didn’t move. The other two new trainers muttered as the silence grew. The faces of the parents clouded. Still Skye didn’t move. Or perhaps she couldn’t.

Isla pushed herself out of her chair. Despite the angry murmurings from the other guardians, she threaded herself in next to her. “Skye, do you want to go up first?” she asked.  

Skye nodded.

“Would you like me to go up with you? Or maybe Blair?”

She shook her head, but no words came out.

“Just take your time. I know it’s a bit scary, but you can do it.”

With the encouragement, Skye faced the three Pokeballs next to Professor Spruce. Each one was furnished with a plaque listing information about the Pokemon inside. Isla read them over, trying to absorb the information quickly, in case she was asked to sit back down. One Grass starter, one Fire, one Water. Exactly the same as Johto.

Coozy, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Little Cow Pokemon

Good natured and docile, this Coozy is an excellent choice for those who enjoy a slow and steady pace in life. Be careful not to let him get lazy and complacent!

*

Bleater, Lv 5

Gender: Male

The Nightlight Pokemon

Aloof yet curious, this Bleater will be a loyal companion to any trainer willing to take the time to get to know him. Be warned, Bleater are prone to dependency on their trainers later in life.

*

Coltide, Lv5

Gender: Male

The Water Horse Pokemon

Spirited and independent, this Coltide can be a handful without firm guidance in the beginning. However, you will rarely find a more dedicated Pokemon out there!

*

Curiosity burned at the back of Isla’s head, but now wouldn’t be the right time to interrupt everything by checking. For now, she turned back to the chairs and waited as Skye made her final decision.

“This one.” Skye eventually said. “I would like this one, please.”

“Excellent choice,” Professor Spruce said kindly. “Why don’t you take your, uh… guardians towards the back and fill out the paperwork? The aide will have your license waiting for you.”

“You go,” Isla motioned to Blair. “I’ll wait here.”

While Skye was away dealing with her paperwork, Isla watched the two remaining trainers making their picks. Compared to Skye, there was no hesitation. The boy beelined immediately for Coltide, but the other girl seemed perfectly happy to be left with Coozy. Which, of course, meant that Skye had chosen Bleater.

One by one, the families left for the other room, and Isla had the chance to look closer at the three Kildo starters. She painstakingly punched the names – or her best memory of them – into the Pokedex and clicked Image Search.

Coozy, she decided, would have been her choice. It was almost painfully cute; small, and quadrupedal, covered in a thick coat of moss green fur, a pale pink nose, and dark inquisitive eyes. Her arms ached to hug it.

Now, Bleater was cute too, she thought. It reminded her of a favourite Johto Pokemon – a Mareep – just smaller. Its wool was coarse and tightly packed against the body, in a vivid orange, the colour of flame. Its short, stubby legs and the small nubs of horns were a much darker orange, a striking contrast to the rest of its body.

The final one, Isla could figure out on her own. An aqua blue body, a mane and tale reminiscent of flowing water, black hooves polished like obsidian, and dark, beguiling eyes. Coltide, the previous evolution of Blair’s Coastrot.

“You seem very interested in the starters, young lady,” Professor Spruce’s voice cut through Isla’s thoughts, making her jump. “Not local?”

“How could you tell?” Isla laughed nervously.

“I’ve been around the block too many times,” Professor Spruce said. “Kanto?”

“No, Johto. My accent is a bit softer though, so I get why people mix them up.”

“Johto, eh? That’s a long trip. What brings you here?”

“Visiting family. And some research into the Kildonian Chessmen.”

Professor Spruce’s eyes widened. “How interesting.”

A perfect opportunity had fallen right into her lap. She would be stupid not to take advantage of it now. “Professor, do you know anything about them?” she asked. “Or the Vitalities? Anything you could tell me?”

“Like what?”

“Like where they could be found?”

Professor Spruce’s eyebrow arched. “Well, no-one really knows where the Chessmen are now. Recent reports claim they settled in remote places – like islands far away from the mainland or underground. But that’s all just theories. There hasn’t been a confirmed sighting in over a century. But the Vitalities, on the other hand…”

Isla leant forward, closing the space between them.

Professor Spruce seemed to think better of what she was about to say and let out a sigh. “You have to understand something first. The Vitalities are a polarising bunch. Much of my generation, us old folks, even some of the more… naïve younger people believe the Vitalities are responsible for the natural disasters around Kildo.”

This wasn’t news to Isla, but still she pressed “Why?”

“The Vitalities brought many gifts to humans. Some were used wisely. Others weren’t. One of the most enduring theories is that the Chessmen banished and trapped the Vitalities to four remote corners of Kildo to prevent them intervening in humans’ natural progress. There’s an argument to be made that the natural disasters are the Vitalities fighting back, I suppose rebelling against their banishment.”

“So, no-one knows where they are? Or the Chessmen?”

Professor Spruce shook her head. “You may have noticed that Kildo is a region on a precipice. Pokemon journeys, gym circuits, the battling leagues, these are all very new to us. And they’ve become very popular very quickly. Up until about twenty years ago, most people in Kildo only used Pokemon to help them work the land, to till crops, things like that. It was like the whole region carried this collective memory, a shared fear of what happened when technology became too great a force.”

“I suppose that makes sense.”

“Yes. But that fear has diluted. It’s been lost among much of the new generation. Things have changed. We’ve made amazing technological advances since then, eclipsed even some of the other regions that have been doing this for much longer. I’m sure you’ve heard about our API technology and Ability Suppressors and Experience Boosters, all that sort of thing.” Isla hadn’t, but she didn’t want to stop her and ask. Lots of people think it’s amazing. Lots more people are scared. Scared that if the Chessmen were to wake again, and were to see the way we have advanced, they would do exactly what they did the last time they awoke.”

The phrase festering in Isla’s mouth felt ridiculous. Laughable. But something compelled her to say it anyway.

“That they would destroy the whole region?”

Professor Spruce’s piercing grey eyes met Isla’s.

“Exactly.”

[dansnaturepictures]

20th March 2021-House Sparrows on World Sparrow Day and Tawny Owl, Leaser Spotted Woodpecker and much more on a phenomenal walk of birds and mammals

On World Sparrow day today I enjoyed seeing some of our House Sparrows that visit the garden one of which is shown in the first picture in this photoset. This sparrow day is a brilliant initiative to raise awareness particularly for House Sparrows and their plight so I was happy to be part of it. It also gave me a great chance to reflect on the times I have had with these iconic and quintessentially British species which are so precious. I have always had sparrows in my life in my time as a birdwatcher and I love both house and Tree Sparrow because of their interesting colour shades and pleasant feather formations and patterns. They are also adorable and pretty birds of great personality and presence. As one of the country’s key garden birds, the perennial chart topper of the RSPB’s Big Garden Birdwatch, it’s so amazing to have them in the garden and especially for me very precious because we went around three years without having any come into the garden after getting some in the initial stages of living at this current house and I did miss them in those years. But in the last three years or so it has been fantastic to see them come back on mass coming in with the Starlings to feed and exist year round and also bring in chicks which I particularly enjoyed in the last year whilst working from home. I am now always so impressed and feel so lucky to be able to see these key urban birds at and around home.

We had our exercise walk this afternoon I took the second and ninth picture in this photoset on it and one bird I had started to have on my mind in recent days mostly due to the anniversary of when I last saw it three years ago on Thursday was a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker one of my favourites and one of my original birds I dreamt of seeing alongside Tawny Owl, Black Guillemot and Little Auk it’s only the latter I have still not yet seen with another bird the Ptarmigan now on the dream list and Golden Eagle and Arctic Tern being added to it then seen by us. I just had a weird sense that there might be some magic in the woods of this walk to allow us to see a lesser today like I felt when I last saw one four years ago the other day, after seeing the bird three years after one of my most glorious ever birding moments seeing our first.

And like that memorable and personally historic day in April 2014 today’s walk started really well for seeing lots of high calibre wildlife. Firstly a Robin gently singing away in a tree, then amazingly two Woodlarks on the ground a second cracking view of more than one in a week which was stunning. Even more striking that I had only seen this bird twice prior to 2021 but I have now seen them on three occasions this year. Remarkable. As we walked on again just like on Tuesday’s walk we were happy to see some Fallow Deers as seven ran out in front of us which was a fantastic prolonged view. I took the third picture in this photoset of some of them bounding along. 

We then walked into a woodland area and would have some of our greatest ever few birdwatching moments. Firstly a brown bird darted right in front of us and time stood still as I tried to compute what it was. Firstly it looked Kestrel which would be unusual in woods but as it just flew into my sharp focus it was undoubtedly an owl! Then myself and my Mum almost exclaimed the species name at once, it was a Tawny Owl we could now very clearly see. This felt incredible to see, I could not believe my eyes and I was over the moon. We saw it fly into a tree and sit on a branch for a little as we were on cloud nine watching it through binoculars, before it flew deep into the woods. This is a candidate for bird of the year already, it was epic. A bird I had dreamed about seeing before, and I finally saw them in 2014 and 2015 one bird in the same spot. But since after amazingly seeing most of the other British owl species every year all coming back into my life a lot and I’ve taken them to my heart I have waited and longed to see a tawny again and I had done it. I still can’t believe it now almost. But this was something so special and a really collector’s item because it was not just a wild Tawny Owl out in the day time like my previous two sightings of one very snug in a tree, but one flying in the day time and that is such once in a blue moon stuff. This sighting really did feel like a goal re-achieved a little and made me very happy. 

As we walked on we saw the brilliant Stock Dove in the fourth picture in this photoset, a beautiful bird to see as always one of my B list favourite birds the Tawny is another of my favourites. I had thought having seen the tawny when I felt like we’d see the lesser I had gone for the wrong dream bird! But I said to my Mum in this area we still need to keep our eyes peeled because I knew having had it happen today and always that extraordinary moments can happen so we could see the lesser too something I said in euphoria and in a completely dream like and quite jocular way. There were also comments about what exactly could displace tawny as our bird of the day a thing we do a bit of a parody to man/woman of the match in football I do it for butterflies, mammals and others sometimes too. 

Dreams came true again as we walked on in the woods, when my Mum spotted a Lesser Spotted Woodpecker! We both saw this as well and got our most prolonged view and one of our greatest views ever of this stunning species. I really was in my element to see it dance between and climb the high branches. I really got to make out that distinctive black and white striped back which still makes me shudder when thinking of the bird and everything those first two sightings became for me as some of the best times in my life and in birdwatching as well as its face and other features. Lesser Spotted Woodpecker sightings like Tawny Owl don’t come around often for us so I just savoured this happy moment so much. I took the fifth and sixth pictures in this photoset, record shots of this unforgettable bird. 

We just could not believe we’d seen both Tawny Owl and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker in one day, two more favourite bird year ticks in 2021 my best ever start for seeing favourite birds of mine with 16 of the 31 now seen this year. I think with these two being the more attainable two of my dream birds, especially once we saw them both for the first time just months apart in 2014 there has been a personal fable for me about seeing them both on the same day. I used to write every bird I saw on birdwatching trips in a note book in a very similar list format to my wildlife sightings summaries when young and on the last page I’d write the names of these two species together and Black Guillemot and Little Auk in a fanciful way of thinking I would have this utopian day where we’d see them all on a day. When we first saw Tawny Owl we were at a location known for Lesser Spotted Woodpeckers in the woods too and we heard drumming that day but didn’t investigate enough. So it became a joke that year that we were so focused on the owl in the tree that the woodpecker could have flown behind our heads without us noticing I even drew a (poor) picture of this scene on my Mum’s Mother’s Day card that year and then felt quite pleased with myself when we went on to see the Lesser Spotted Woodpecker. I guess today was to an extent that utopian day. It was interesting that a birdwatching/wildlife figure from my childhood who I do still see now occasionally who was influential in our birdwatching early on once said when we mentioned these were our goals that these were species that could be seen in the same day in Hampshire in a particular scenario and I was only thinking of him yesterday and earlier today when recalling a chance meeting with him on a work lunch break walk last year. So it just felt there was something meant to be about today’s lesser and tawny double. And wherever Lesser Spotted Woodpecker is concerned I have always seemed to be able to predict things! Its just a feeling, I seem to know when it may or may not happen. 

I took the seventh picture in this photoset of some nice fungi which we saw a lot of on trees as we walked on. It then beggared belief the sheer amount of additional also top quality birds or notable bird moments we went on to see and have! Firstly we saw two Treecreepers at once sliding delightfully up trees. Then we looked at the top of tree where there was a finch and saw it was the beautiful, bright and epic Hawfinch which I took the record shot in the eighth picture in this photoset of. Another member of my notable species seen again club this year which is amazing. We then heard a Raven bark loudly in the distance always a great sound. Then we also saw a fairly large group of Lapwings. We watched and listened to them for a few minutes as they went about a glorious display, I believe either a courtship or territorial one as they flew around and made their iconic “peewit” call. They flew in spectacular movements and as they did their wings made this most glorious of sounds adding to the amazing sounds I heard today, it was like a drum. It was so sensational and seeing and hearing a common species in a beautiful way perhaps different to anything I had ever really experienced with them before would have been a standout wildlife moment on any normal day itself but today it added so brilliantly to one of my best ever walks and times watching wildlife. 

Walking on I just thought there was a third year tick after Tawny Owl and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker in it I hadn’t got three year ticks in a day since 6th January, and I thought maybe it would be something more regular. Stonechats excited me then further up doing good impressions of Skylarks for flight and sound in places a bird I need to see this year. Canada Goose and Mallard added variety to the day. Just before the end of the walk I got my third year tick, fittingly for sparrow day a bird my Mum proclaimed was a sparrow with a black head when confirming the sightings with a hide with a guide at Titchfield Haven way back in our early birdwatching days, my Mum spotted a pair of Reed Buntings which I saw. This is one that perhaps because of the lockdown and other factors alluded me up until this point so this was real icing on the cake and yet another aspect of the walk I predicted you could say. Great views of smartly marked birds. 

My bird year list continued its revival of late, with a quite staggering at this time but especially with what and where they were seven year ticks in the space of a week. My year list sits nicely as the sixth highest any of mine had ever been on this date on 115 ahead of how many I had seen at this stage in 2014 and 2015 by a decent way now 2014 did grow a little bit in days to come though. 

I also took the eight picture in this photoset of some differently coloured daffodils in the collection of them in the garden which I have loved watching. This brought to an end simply breathtaking, fun, monumental, joyous and special occasion on our walk today. Walks and days like these are once in a blue moon it feels like a moment I will be taking about for years to come. Today nature made me so happy again which I needed. I hope you all had a good day or as good as it can be.  Wildlife Sightings Summary: My first of two of my favourite birds the Tawny Owl and Lesser Spotted Woodpecker this year, my first Reed Bunting of the year, one of my favourite mammals the Fallow Deer, Treecreeper, Hawfinch, Goldfinch, Chaffinch, Blue Tit, Long-tailed Tit, Robin, Goldcrest, Woodlark, Stonechat, Meadow Pipit, Mistle Thrush, Blackbird, Woodpigeon, Stock Dove, Lapwing, Mallard, Canada Goose, Grey Squirrel, midges and I heard a Raven, Wren, Great Tit and other woodpeckers.

[ownworldresident]

We Are Our Own Heroes. Chapter Two: Bayside

Book: The Royal Romance, seven years post-TRR

Premise: Six years after a tragic loss, Liam and his adopted daughter meet Cassandra, an artist with her own troubled past, and the three find in each other the friend they never knew they needed.

Disclaimer: Setting and some characters belong to Pixelberry. I am just borrowing them and will return them when they feel better.

Themes: found family, (power of) friendship, healing

The Master Masterlist (link) ---  Our Own Heroes Masterlist (link)

Liam

Saturday rolled around again. Nothing could lift the heavy circles under Liam’s eyes or take away his yawns, and the coffee could only do so much. He took solace in the fact that he could crash hard later that day. Emily had a harder time against this team. He kept score in his head, crossing his fingers and sending encouraging smiles whenever she glanced his way. The final whistle blew as they started from the centre of the court. Emily looked around to find her coach, then converged with her teammates. A moment later they cheered at the score. The crowd filed out and Liam waited for Emily to take her time with her friends. He nodded to the few spectators who looked his way. Today’s game was a late one, and the court was almost bare except for a few chatting kids and waiting parents. He yawned again, and when he opened his eyes, Cassie stood beside him. He blinked, too tired to conceal his surprise. “Sorry,” she chuckled, “didn’t mean to startle you.” “No, that’s alright,” he replied, “long week.” “Here I thought being king would be easy.” Cassie folded her arms across her chest. Liam breathed a laugh, but that was all he could manage. Something had happened, in the last few weeks, to throw him off balance.

“Challenging. But rewarding.” “A standard answer.” She smiled, then sighed. Liam watched her torn expression morph into resolve. “She’s lucky to have you,” she continued, turning to Emily a moment. Liam did not follow her gaze, but watched Cassie instead. “Thank you,” he answered, wary of the direction of the conversation. "My sister was really ill years back, and I moved in to take care of her boys for a while. I was only 24 at the time. I knew nothing about children, and they were so small.” Cassie smiled, and Liam waited to see if she would continue. He was glad the courts were emptying, and there was no one within earshot. “She was living out in the country, and I’d come straight from university in Amsterdam. No one really thought I should be the one to look after them, it was hard, but it… was the right thing to do, I think. They are such dear boys.” She looked down, a little heat in her cheeks, and Liam frowned. “You knew what they needed.” He found himself saying. “Where they’d come from.” She nodded, lifting her head again. “Maybe someone knew better. But I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I’d failed my sister when she needed me most.” Liam took in her words, feeling the memory come to him again. He blinked, and remembered where he was. “Why are you telling me this?” he asked gently. Cassie turned to him, then away again, cheeks a little redder. “I’m not sure.” She sighed. “I suppose I wanted you to know. It’s hard when no one believes in you. When no one understands.” Her voice trailed as she finished, but a moment later strengthened again. “I haven’t coached Emily before, but I have seen you around. I’m sorry if this is inappropriate, but if you ever need someone to talk to.” She lifted her shoulders, trying not to fold in on herself. “I’m here.” Liam pulled away from her, realising how unguarded he had been during the conversation. “Thank you,” was his final reply. What else could he say? Something more articulate if he was awake enough. Cassie nodded, then pulled something from her jacket pocket. As he suspected, the paper she handed him had her name and mobile number. “I’m not asking you to call me or anything,” she said with a more familiar cadence. “But if you need…” she smiled, “I’m here.” And with a nod, she walked away. Liam pocketed the note, and tried and failed to decipher whatever subtext he had missed. He didn't get much time to do so. A rush of colour preceded an impact against his side and he nearly stumbled. Emily wrapped her arms around his waist and looked up at him, grinning, eyes shining with exertion. “Movie?” she said, leaning her chin against his stomach. Liam could hardly watch her insistence without laughing. “That depends.” He raised his eyebrows, and Emily frowned. “On what?” Leaning down, Liam gently detached her from him, kissed the top of her head, and stepped back. “On whether you can beat me to the car!” He ran, but not to win. Odd looks followed from those around them, but Liam’s focus was on the small shape darting ahead.

Cassandra

The last of the kids departed, and Cassie continued to pack up. The work took her hands to complete but not her mind, and she whisked herself away to some place colourful. Somewhere she could go to create. With everything packed away, she hoisted the ball bag over her shoulder and carried it to her car. She reflected on her interactions with Liam and Emily. Had she been too abrupt with her offer? She’d only known him a few weeks and spoken to him twice, and he had seemed concerned. That was the reason she had offered it, she reminded herself. All she could do was hope that her manner wasn’t off-putting, if a friend was what he needed. And if he didn’t act on her offer, like her mother had always said, at least she had tried. Back in her studio apartment, Cassie tossed her keys in a bowl by the door and the sports bag on the ground. “Back to work,” she informed no one in particular. Peeling off her clothes, she threw them in the direction of her bed. Then she changed into old stained things, and twirled a charcoal pencil between her fingers. With soft music as a backdrop, several hours and a glass of wine passed before she admitted defeat. The line work on her canvas was approximately complete but nothing in her usual colour palette captured the feel of it. The much larger canvas nearby was as blank as the day she bought it. It taunted her lack of inspiration. There was plenty of time, she told it, and pointedly avoided the calendar on her wall ‘with exhibition’ circled two months from now. Around dusk, a miasma of sunset shades began to leak in through the window and touch her other pieces. Her stomach growled on cue as she registered the time. It occurred to her that she hadn’t eaten since midday yesterday. As good a reason as any, she reasoned, to take a break. She grabbed her jacket and keys and headed out again.

---

After dark on a Saturday, the boardwalk came to life. Cassie reclined in the corner of her favourite establishment, drink in one hand, pencil in the other. Always carry a sketchbook. And when she wasn’t in front of a canvas her hand flowed freely. The din of the bar was chatty and friendly. Two and a half walls were open to a balcony over the bay. People meandered in and out or stood or sat in groups, waving their hands in animated recounts of their life events. Warm lighting like this was perfect for sketching. Her knees were nearly against her chest at a booth in the corner and hid most of her work from prying eyes. An easy sketch sat nearby. Rolling her shoulders back, Cassie drew his outline. He hunched over the bar, nursing a glass of whiskey, denim jacket concealing muscled arms and a t-shirt. He came most weekends, she noticed -detailing the perfect frown- but never seemed to be fully here. When she looked up again he was gone. “Having fun?” The low voice resonated from the same booth she sat at. Cassie hadn’t noticed his approach. She pulled her sketchbook against her chest as she turned to him. Too late, the regular had noticed his likeness. “What gave it away?” she asked, reaching for her cocktail. He shrugged. “You’ve hardly touched your drink.” He gestured to the almost full glass in her hand, ice almost melted. She grinned and took a sip. “Likewise.” She indicated his glass. He rarely took more than a shot at a time. “This isn’t meant to be rushed.” He gazed at his drink with reverence and she tried not to laugh. “Uhuh.” Cassie took another sip and looked back at her sketch as she put the glass down. “What do you think?” “Of your sketch?” He reclined. “You’re very talented.” “Not what I was going for, but thanks.” Cassie smirked, then turned her book so he could see the drawing better. “Did I get you right?” He shrugged, took another sip, then shook his head. “I don’t frown that much.” Cassie spilled her drink on the table as she laughed, which only made her laugh more. When finally she regained control, he was waiting. “Yes, you do.” The man turned away. His attempt at a severe frown fell short as the tiniest curve of a smile touched the corner of his mouth. She picked up her pencil again and started adding the new expression. “I’m Cassie,” she said into the silence, no longer able to leave his sketches unnamed. Leaning toward her book to focus on the detail of his lips, she waited for his response. Instead, when she looked up, he had turned to her fully, and intensely. “What?” “So you’re Cassie,” he said. She frowned this time. “What do you mean?” He blinked, glanced at his drink for a long moment, then shook his head. “Nothing,” he said, sticking out his hand, “I’m Drake.”

What Happened Six Years Ago

Drake

Drake found Liam in the hall of the children’s hospital. The day was more than over, and the quiet was eerie. He lowered himself to the seat beside Liam, and they sat in silence for some indeterminate time, receiving awkward glances from the few hospital staff that passed. “Li—” Drake started, realising with a cough that he hadn’t spoken in several hours. He cleared his throat. “Liam, I think…” But there weren’t any adequate words to come after that. “We should figure out what to do next.” Liam didn’t respond. He stared wide-eyed at the ground, fingers laced around the back of his head and elbows braced on his knees. How far into his mind had he retreated? “We should think about—” “It doesn’t matter.” Drake's chest tightened at the heaviness in Liam’s voice. Like he couldn’t intonate. He paused, and searched for what to say next.   “You can’t sit in a hospital corridor all night. You need to decide what to do. There’s the… her…” Drake turned from his friend, trying not to imagine the view of the night before in that old, musty room. He wasn’t successful. “I can organise our trip back to Cordonia, and you can send people back to investigate, but you need to make the call about her…” he swallowed painfully past the lump in his throat. “Anna’s body.” The words came out hoarse. “Coming with us. Bastien is organising it.” New information to Drake, but he nodded. “And the kid.” “Emily.” Liam croaked, then sighed. The door closest to Liam’s other side was the girl’s room door. “She won’t be here much longer. We need to organise where to leave her.” “Leave her?” Liam looked up, finally, and Drake struggled to keep focus when confronted with the red, grief stricken eyes of his friend. “Once she leaves the hospital, we need to find a home for her.” Liam balked, leaning away from him, and the sudden movement was jarring. “Drake she’s coming with me. How could you even suggest …” Liam stood and looked down to him. “I made a promise.” “You said you’d take care of her.” “At my home, yes.” “Liam you can’t be…” Drake stood as well to be on a level. “She’s barely three years old. You don’t know anything about children.” Liam stared at him. “You still don’t get it.” Drake made a sweeping gesture but continued in an even voice. “Then help me get it. What do you owe her, after what she put you through?” “I promised—” Liam halted as his volume rose, then sighed again and lowered his voice. “I promised I would protect her. Handing her over to social care or their equivalent here, however fortunate she might be in finding a family who treats her as she deserves, is not enough.” Drake grit his teeth, struggling to find a way to bring reason to Liam’s emotional argument. He was no more prepared to raise a child than Drake was. “Three years old,” Drake repeated, hesitant. “She won’t remember what happened. Taking her away from here isn’t fair to her.” “And what if she does remember? Do you think you will ever for… forget…” Liam slumped back against the wall and down to his seat again. He raked his fingers through his hair and groaned, and when he looked up again he looked paler and more tired than Drake had ever seen him. “As I said,” Liam drew in a long breath. “I made a promise. I won’t leave her fate to chance.” No matter his grievance, Drake couldn’t force Liam to consider something he was set against. Maybe in a few days, when his thoughts cleared, he could convince Liam that finding Emily a family was better than taking her in himself. After all, there was no way he would be able to move on from Anna while raising a child who looked just like her.

------

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[victoria-daydreams]

Something’s Gotta Give

Chapter Two: The Stairwell Encounter

Chapter Three: Tea for Two

Summary: An invitation for a cup of tea makes for delightful conversation between Livia and Booker.

Today was a Saturday, a rather unremarkable one at that.

But at least today was one of the rare days that I had time on my hand to do one of my hobbies. Painting. Jars of paint of every shade were littered all around the sheet covered floor and a canvas on an easel stood in front of me in my living room while the record player softly played ‘Sweet Life’ by Frank Ocean in the background. A soft breeze blew through the navy blue drapes of my living room window just as I finished the outline of my sketch.

Leaning over, I reached for my palette and paint brush and with long, deft strokes I began adding in the color to the square-shaped face outline I drew. I lightly dabbed one of my thinner brushes into the black paint and gently applied it to the painting, for a shadow effect on the man's face. Flexing my fingers, I could feel a cramp forming in my hand so I set aside my palette and brush onto a table close to me. I slid off my stool and went around collecting my paint jars off the floor and lined them back up in their basket.

I walked back over to my window and watched as cars drove by on the busy street and as people went about their day, running errands or just enjoying the sunny day. Stretching my arms out above my head, I let out a yawn and shifted my head from side to side, the bones in my neck popping with a satisfying crack.

"A cup of tea sounds good right about now," I thought aloud.

Just as I was about to turn around I noticed a familiar figure holding a bag of groceries and walking hurriedly towards the building.

I ducked my head underneath the window. "Booker!" I called, he stopped mid-stride and looked around in confusion. "Booker!" I called again, this time he looked in my direction. Grinning widely, I waved my hand at him to which he gave a reserved wave back before he continued on his way back to his apartment.

Bringing my head back inside, I scurried over to my door, hoping to catch him before he goes inside his apartment and disappeared again for days on end. I unlocked my door and snatched it open just in time to see the back of Booker entering his flat.

"Wait!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the empty corridor. He slightly turned his body to face me and I let out a breathless laugh, happy that I caught him in the nick of time. "Join me for a cup of tea?" I asked, a hopeful look on my face. "I was just about to brew some," I explained, stepping out into the corridor while keeping a hold of my doorknob.

A hesitant look came over Booker's face at my offer, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, he nervously eyed my apartment through the small gap of my door.

"Don't feel obligated Booker," I stated, sensing his discomfort. "But, if you do come by, it'll be for one cup, I promise," I continued, walking backwards into my apartment. "And then you won't hear from me for a week," I finished, now smiling as I imitated zipping my lips.

Closing the door behind me, I walked over to my record player and lifted the needle off of the vinyl and grabbed the disc, sliding it back into its cover. My fingers ran along the spines of multiple vinyl covers before stopping on a random jazz compilation vinyl, pulling the vinyl from the shelf I slid the disc out. Carefully, I placed it on the spindle, set the needle at the edge and adjusted the volume before I shut the lid.

I smiled to myself as the sound of a saxophone emitted from the record player before spinning myself around on the ball of my foot and heading towards my small kitchen. I grabbed my electric kettle and it filled it with water and the sound of two knocks on my door echoed throughout the apartment.

The smile on my face grew tenfold.

"It's open!" I yelled, as I moved over to the hutch cupboard that stored my mugs and tea bags.

From behind me, I could hear the door slowly creaking open and I glanced over shoulder to see Booker step inside, his eyes squinting at the sunbeams illuminating the room.

"Does he live in the dark?" I thought.

Booker's eyes fell on me and I flashed him a warm smile, "You came!" I chirped, plopping a tea bag into each mug. "Come, have a seat at the table!" I insisted, turning the kettle on.

With heavy footsteps Booker made his way to the kitchen table, the sound of chair dragging across the floor floated into my ear.

"You're an artist?" Booker questioned, and my eyes widened at the surprising softness of his tone.

Not to mention, the fact that he finally spoke to me today.

I turned around and leaned back against the cupboard, "Depends on who you ask," I answered, shrugging my shoulder. "I'm a photographer, but I like to consider myself an artist," I informed, folding my arms against my chest.

"I thought you were a painter,"

"What gave you that impression?"

"Well, for starters, you have paint on your clothes...and on your face," he commented dryly. I looked down at my white tee shirt and olive green jumpsuit, which were indeed covered in paint. "There's also an easel near the window, it's hard not to make such an assumption," he added, and there was the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

I placed a hand on my forehead, "How I could I forget?" I wondered, letting out a light laugh and shaking my head. And then, that's when it hit me. "Wait a minute!" I gasped, staring at Booker in awe. "You just made a joke in my presence," I pointed out, a grin on my face.

Suddenly, a series of loud beeps blared from behind me telling me that our water was ready. I grabbed the kettle from its stand and poured the boiling water into the mugs, watching the colors bleed from the tea leaves and mixing with the water.

"I couldn't help but notice that you're American," Booker spoke up.

I laughed, "What gave me away?" I quipped, placing the kettle down on. "Was it the accent?" I questioned, a smile on my face as I looked back.

"An American in Paris,"

"Except we're not in Paris," I retorted, and Booker chuckled. "And there's no singing or dancing," I added, picking up both of our mugs and placing one in front Booker and then the other mug where I would be sitting.

I moved over to the fridge and pulled open the door to grab a carafe of milk before closing the door with my hip. Walking back over to the cupboard, I grabbed the canister of sugar and then slid into the chair across from Booker, placing the milk and sugar down on the table.

I crossed my legs one over the other, "If you don't mind me asking," I began, as we waited for our tea to steep. "Why do you spend so much time alone?" I asked, my tone gentle.

Booker ran a hand through his hair, "Would you believe me if I said I was introvert?" He asked back, now rubbing his neck.

"No," I answered bluntly, with a chuckle and shaking my head. "I'm an introvert Booker, and even I don't like spending that much by myself," I quipped, and his lips twitched up into an amused smirk. "The way you carry on reminds me of a reclusive Victorian widow," I teased, resting my chin on my knuckles.

Booker's eyes lit up in mirth, "That is...a very unique characterization of me," he stated, letting out a chuckle which then morphed into a laugh.

A good hearty laugh.

I felt my own lips quirk up into a smile before I started to laugh quietly myself. I couldn't quite believe it, I made Booker laugh, I mean really laugh. A warm feeling suddenly came over me, as if a fire was lit inside of me and I found myself wanting to hear more of the delightful sound.

"What do you know? I finally got a laugh out of you!" I commented, a proud smile on my face.

"That you did Livia," he replied breathlessly. Booker shook his head and glanced down at the still steaming tea, softly tapping his fingers against the table. "You know, I don't think I met someone who's quite driven to befriend a stranger like you have,” Booker stated, looking up from his mug.

"And I don't think I've met someone who's so unwilling to have a friend, or at the very least just someone to talk to," I retorted, grabbing a spoon from the holder on the table.

"Yeah, well, maybe I don't deserve the luxury of having friends," Booker responded, his tone tinged with bitterness as he slipped back into his familiar solemn expression.

"Nonsense!" I shot back. "Friends aren't a luxury Booker, they're a necessity!" I argued, placing my hand on top of his without thinking. Booker's eyes darted to my hand covering his own, quickly I removed it. "Sorry," I apologized, placing my hands in my lap and lowering my gaze.

"It's a wonder, that with a bright, cheery personality like yours, a man would even think to cheat on you," Booker commented, my head snapped up at the statement, my eyes nearly bulging out from their sockets. I opened and closed my mouth like a fish, trying to figure out how to respond. "Yes, I heard your conversation a couple of days ago," he stated, answering my silent question. "It's not like you were quiet about it,” Booker added, placing two fingers on his temple.

"Well I didn't think I would have an audience on the stairwell,” I replied, yanking my tea bag out with more force than necessary.

A smirk grew on his face, "I proved you wrong though," Booker pointed out, with a slight shrug.

My brow arched, "Proved me wrong about what?" I questioned, pouring milk into my tea.

"That I wasn't passed out."

I paused momentarily before looking up from the creamy colored liquid. "Booker, there may be hope for you yet," I suggested, mirroring his smirk.

"You say that now until you tire of me," Booker protested softly.

I shook my head, "Never." I disagreed, still smiling. "Same time Monday?" I questioned, picking up my mug.

Picture you upon my knee Just tea for two And two for tea Just me for you And you for me alone

Chapter Four: A Frightful Dinner

[moccahobi]

Written in The Stars [Hoseok x Reader]

Warnings: Cuss words

Summery:  Hoseok had always been big on supporting his friends. Thus it came as no surprise that he ended up spending his free time at Namjoon's latest buiseness venture: a little dessert cafe. He didn't expect to fall for the cute barista who always worked when he was there though the.

Word count: 7k words

Genre: Slice of life au; Cafe au

Author’s Note: Thank you so much to @kyub for making the banner and @heyitsmeee2, @jung-hoseok-s-airplane, @jiminful, and @elenasgotyourback​ for betaing. This fic took so much out of me! I had one idea than the next and the main time I had to write this was during school. Oof! I am glad I did it though! Big shutout to @bangtanscenery​ for orchestrating and creating this project! It was soo fun!

Hoseok sighed from where he was seated in the all too cliche cafe. Namjoon had just opened it up so Hoseok was trying to fulfill his role as a supportive friend by eating there, but it just wasn’t a place he was into. The place was beautiful. He could tell Namjoon and his business partner had quite the eye for design. The wall behind the register was painted in chalk and the menu was written in large swirling letters across it. They had picked a light and natural wood tone for the tables and booths that complimented the dark grey of the metal chairs which were all  all seats upholstered with a rich navy blue and embezzled with glittering gold rebites keeping the cushions to the furniture. It was an ethereal kind of look that undoubtedly drew in the crowds. 

Looking around, Hoseok’s eyes landed on a large astrology chart sprawled out on the back wall, similar in handwriting to the menu, painting a story with the chart. He only noticed it because Namjoon had a passion for astrology and he would often gush about it to Hoseok who would listen to almost all the times that they met up. To top it off, the ceiling was painted in an all consuming shade of black, mimicking a galaxy with its streaks of white, here and there, which glimmered like actual stars (although Hoseok could admit that the ceiling was almost a piece of art). Aside from the heavy reliance on a theme, it was a dessert cafe. Hoseok liked sweets. Namjoon loved sweets apparently. Almost every food was doused in sugar and it was almost overwhelming just how sweet it all was. They all sounded amazing and cavity inducing (especially the french toast and ice cream combo), and Hoseok was tempted to try them, but he couldn’t handle all that sugar in one sitting. He’d need someone to help and he didn’t have someone to help him today. The only thing Hoseok could handle was the Black Hole coffee (americano with a little sugar) and a Galaxy bagel (it was just a plain bagel with some sugary cream cheese). Hoseok felt a little more like Yoongi, the resident grump of his friends, sitting in the cafe with such… unsweetened foods. 

Of course Namjoon’s cafe had some savory food and Hoseok wanted to try them some other time, maybe with Yoongi.The main thing Namjoon sold was dessert though, and to support Namjoon, Hoseok had to have one of the desserts. 

What wasn’t a shock about Namjoon’s cafe was that he co-owned and ran it with someone else. Hoseok didn’t know who it was yet, Namjoon having not told him yet but from what Hoseok knew of the current set up, they were manning the counter with two baristas. From what Namjoon had said about his business partner, they were much more focused on what they were serving as well as the astrology side of the cafe work than any of the real business. It gave Namjoon exactly what he wanted: the business side of things and a partner to share the possible debt. Hoseok had finally managed to visit today, their fifth day open and if he had to list the things that he did like,  he’d have to start with the ceiling and then mention one of the baristas:

They took his breath away the second he entered the store. They smiled broadly and greated Hoseok and for a second, he forgot that he was at a local cafe and not a family run restaurant back in Gwangju. The world slowed as he looked at them and all Hoseok could think about was the warm feeling of returning to his mom’s friend’s restaurant after his post-school program and eating kimchi and rice. 

The trance was broken the second she turned to take someone’s order and Hoseok slowly came back to reality. He wasn’t in Gwangju but he was about to have a wonderful meal in a shop owned by a friend. 

Hoseok had only been in the cafe for half an hour and he could already say that he was starting to develop a small crush on the barista. He didn’t mean to and he didn’t dare think about actually asking her out… it just happened. She was a pretty woman doing her job and Hoseok was an attention starved small business owner who was entranced by her caring attitude. Hoseok was stressed and tired. Plus, he was finally feeling better after his last relationship. There wasn’t this constant longing nestled deep inside him at the thought of the end of his last relationship anymore, and he might finally be at a point where dating was ok to do again.

That is what he brushed it off as. 

Hoseok didn’t want to think of the alternative. He just got out of a relationship a month ago and was still recovering even if he felt like he might be better now. Sure it might have been a mutual agreement based on his best interests and their best interest, but that didn’t make it any harder. Hoseok still missed the nights when they would spend the night in their apartment and snuggle close while watching cheesy shows or when they’d force him to stop working on pottery for a day and instead grab food at one of the food trucks. He missed the companionship but by now, he didn’t know if he missed them.

He might.

There wasn’t a real way to always tell though. The two went everywhere together. Every place that Hoseok went to now conjured memories that danced and pranced around in his mind. This cafe would be different though. There were no ghost memories dancing around. It was new and he could work effectively and happily. 

At some point while Hoseok was finishing his food, Namjoon came over and joined him. The two had barely had more than a handful of conversations since graduating college, both too busy to make time for the other as small business owners (well this was Namjoon’s second business venture, the other supplying him a good source of money to fund him and the cafe). That was how life was sadly but with this cafe open so close to where Hoseok lived and worked that now they might have a chance of having long and winded conversations again.

“Do you remember watching stars on our old apartment’s rooftop?” Namjoon asked at one point, a soft and content smile on his face

“Somewhat. They were nice. Cold, but nice.” Hoseok lied while taking a long sip of his coffee.

Namjoon had always loved the night sky, so much so that he would drag Hoseok out three times a week just to look at the sky. The man could name every constellation and phase of the moon off the top of his head. It was an amazing skill. Hoseok didn’t have that same passion though. Sure, the night sky was nice, awe inspiring at times, but most nights Hoseok would return from work exhausted and all he wanted to do was go to sleep. Those nights when Namjoon and Hoseok would go onto the roof and look at the sky were mostly filled with Hoseok drifting off in the cold. 

Hoseok did it though and Hoseok would do it again in a heartbeat because it made Namjoon happy. 

Namjoon smiled broadly, “That was kinda the inspiration for the cafe’s decorations! My co-owner, Y/n-ssi, really likes astrology so she added some of the more… magical elements.” 

Hoseok chuckled and looked around with a small smile growing on his face as well,“I am glad you enjoyed those nights so much. Do you still make time to go out and look at the stars?” Hoseok asked before taking a long sip of his coffee.

“No.” Namjoon snorted, his smile much larger now, “I am a working man. I barely have time to eat, sleep, and breath. Let alone gaze up at the stars.” 

“You should make time, Namjoon-ah. It isn’t healthy to work all the time.” Hoseok chastised, taking special care now to scrutinize Namjoon’s face.

He looked very similar to the young twenty year old Hoseok once knew but there was more evidence now of stress and wear-and-tear. Frown lines and bags etched in his face. When was the last time Namjoon took a break from all his work? Hoseok didn’t know the answer. He did know though that he was no better than Namjoon. This was his first real break in a week or two.

“You sound like Minjae.” Namjoon laughed.

Hoseok winced instead, “Sometimes we need someone to look after us, Namjoon-ah.”

“I am sorry, man. I didn’t mean to-”

“It is ok, dude. I am over her.” Hoseok said, carefully watching Namjoon process what Hoseok said.

He still looked stressed, his frown lines growing as he looked at the table instead of Hoseok. Namjoon had set up Minjae and Hoseok and his pride was undoubtedly wounded when the two decided to end it. Namjoon also barely had time to check in with the two so his own memory was probably a little foggy.

“ Anyways, we should try to go camping sometime… or go to some sort of museum for stars. Bet we could stay there for five hours before they’d kick us out.” Hoseok proposed, watching as Namjoon smiled, his frown lines becoming ghosts as he looked back up at Hoseok again as the previous stress left him. 

Namjoon snorted in laughter, “I would love to look at the stars with you again, if that is what you’re asking.” 

His eyes lit up as he started to speak animatedly, “And we can make s’mores and grill some beef. Oh my god! I haven’t had beef in sooo long. It would be so good!”

“I think we would have to go camping to do that, Namjoon-ah. I don’t know if a museum will allow us to start a fire and cook stuff there.” Hoseok laughed.

“Well then, looks like we will be going camping.” 

“Yeah. Looks like we will have to plan that soon.”

A comfortable silence filled the two as they looked out at the bustling cafe, nothing left to talk about. They were both running their own stores, Hoseok had his pottery shop and Namjoon had the bookshop and now this cafe. The two did the same work just in a different setting and neither felt the need to talk about it. Shortly after their conversation died down, Namjoon had to go back to work. He mainly worked in the backroom but there was almost more work to be done.. Hoseok didn’t mind. He understood the struggle. Namjoon leaving actually left Hoseok excited as he could finally start reading the latest book he grabbed from the library. Giddily, he tapped his feet against the floor and quickly pulled the book out of his bag and started to read. The soft and sure feeling of the hardback book grounded him as he started to be carried away by the words. Distantly, he registered people moving around him as life carried on but he didn’t care one bit. The tension rose in the story the further he read and soon enough he found himself tightly gripping the book as more and more problems arose. Time passed at an unknown rate to Hoseok as someone new sat near him or left or readjusted. He barely noticed any and all changes that happened around him, too absorbed in the world he held in his hands (which he was somehow only a third of the way through). That was until he noticed someone sit across him at his table. They said something that he didn’t quite hear or understand and he quickly tried to get to a stopping point so converse with whoever it was (probably Namjoon back to bother him more).He looked up in shock to see the cute barista from earlier, smiling and taking a bite of her sandwich. You were the last person Hoseok expected to see sitting with him. Maybe an old friend and very possibly Namjoon, but you? A cute barista he barely said one word to? Nope. 

You blushed and started to speak, a hand covering her mouth to hide the food you were eating, “I hope you don’t mind me joining you for my lunch. I noticed you talking to Namjoon-ssi earlier and you’re reading one of my favorite books and I thought that it could be cool to meet and talk to you. I am Y/n by the way.” She smiled brightly and nodded lightly at Hoseok.

Hoseok laughed quietly and blushed himself before nodding with a smile, “I am Hoseok. Why is it your favorite book? Oh! And no spoilers! I just started the second part.” 

“Ah! A bunch of good stuff is about to happen! I am warning you!” You laughed before taking a sip of your drink. 

As you did so, Hoseok looked at what you brought with you, namely your lunch box. Hoseok knew that Namjoon built into the budget a small meal for each of the workers during their shift and it struck Hoseok as endearing that you brought your own food instead of eating the sugary sweets offered in the cafe. It was smart too. The sweets probably wouldn’t be the healthiest to eat daily and you could eat more if you packed your own food. 

“I really enjoyed the story. It just… it traps you and doesn’t let you go. The author is really good about that in general with her works. I have read some of her other works and they’re so good!” You said, your eyes glued on the book splayed on the table and not Hoseok.

“I am learning that now.” Hoseok laughed, “This is my first time reading one of her works and I definitely want to read more of her stuff. I specifically enjoy how she is associating certain aspects of her world with different textures and feelings. ”

You nodded excitedly as Hoseok kept talking, your cheeks full of food as you ate. His heart fluttered endearingly as he watched you eat and talk about the book, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed with excitement. Time was moving almost as quickly as when he read the book and he enjoyed it. There was something fun about talking about a book with someone. He hadn’t done it since high school (Minjae was always more of a movie or show person and he did other things with other people). Until now, reading had been an  activity he’d done alone. He found himself smiling and laughing more with you than he had in awhile. Maybe there was something fun about talking about books with others that Hoseok had been ignoring until now.

Maybe there was something magical about you. 

Maybe it was how your eyes drew him in and kept him there. He didn’t fully know. 

The fun didn’t last too long though. You came to talk during your lunch break and lunch breaks were short. It didn’t help that as they talked more and more, he started getting inspiration on some new pottery and he knew that he would need to start working on them soon or he might lose the idea (that or he’ll lose the inspiration).. Just to be safe, he excused himself after you finished eating your sandwich and made his way to his shop. He tried to ignore the image of you nodding and smiling sadly as he left that bounced around in his head but it was heard. You simply looked so adorable and he wish that he didn’t have to leave.

In fact, he thought about how he left Namjoon’s cafe in a rush  many times over the following week. Regret stewed inside him the more time he dwelled on it and didn’t return to the cafe. He should have risked the idea for talking with you (his new creation barely sold so it probably wasn’t worth losing a conversation). He should have stayed longer. He should have asked you for your number. Then maybe he might have been able to ask you out to meet up (and maybe call it a date). Plus, if he had gotten your number then he might have had enough courage to reenter the shop instead of standing outside of the shop like an absolute buffoon every time he passed it. Like he was currently doing right now.  Inside the shop, people were bustling around. A group of children had gathered there after school and were drinking some sort of milkshakes. People were simply sitting there and working. Friends were meeting up. You were working away behind the counter.

He was standing outside like a loser.

He wished that he had the gall to go in and order something (as well as as for your number) but all he could do was watch you flutter around behind the counter as you worked hard, his own heart fluttering and stuttering as he watched you work. Why was he chickening out? He didn’t have this issue when he officially asked Minjae out but with you Hoseok could barely manage to gather up courage to ask for your number. Maybe he wasn’t actually ready for a new relationship. 

But he couldn’t stop thinking about possibly having one with you. Hoseok was so confused. Friends could ask for numbers too. It wasn’t inherently a romantic action. Hoseok liked the idea of it being a somewhat romantic action. 

He didn’t have the courage to go in today sadly. Hoseok didn’t know when he would have the courage to.

With a disheartened sigh that seemed to cling in the air around him, Hoseok turned around and sat at the bench in front of the cafe. It overlooked streets that were surprisingly empty save for a bus or two. He watched as a couple walked hand in hand on the sidewalk across the street, dopey smiles on their face as they looked at each other. 

A pang of jealousy bubbled up in his stomach as he stared at them. The two looked so happy and content. He wanted that. He wanted that with someone who wanted similar things out of a relationship (unlike Minjae).  Hoseok could be the man across the street holding hands with a romantic partner if he just asked someone out.  

“Crazy seeing you here, Hoseok-ssi.” Your voice shocked Hoseok out of his thoughts, making him jump and turn around to face you. 

Your hair was frizzy from a long day of work but your eyes shone brightly, almost saying that you enjoyed every minute of the hard work you did. Hoseok understood that drive. Your navy blue apron complimented what you were wearing underneath too, over all you looked undeniably cute. You took Hoseok’s breath away. Even if you had coffee stains and looked like death, you would have taken Hoseok's breath away.

“Y-y-yeah! I… Uhhh… I was enjoying the view.” Hoseok managed to stutter out, turning red as he kept stuttering.

“Oh really? Street views are nice… Yet, I had hoped that you might have been thinking about coming into the cafe. Guess I was wrong.” You laughed, sitting next to Hoseok on the bench and taking out your lunch box, this time a dinner tucked neatly into it. 

Hoseok spent a few seconds to look at the tattered lunch box. You must have had it for a while as there were scratches and dents on it that only came with time and repetitive use.

“I-I… well… I might have been thinking about going inside.” 

“And what made you decide to not go inside? Did you want an actual dinner?” You laughed before putting some of your food into your mouth.

“Oh… Uh… no… I just… decided not to. Nothing against the cafe.”

“Ok. And how is the book going?”

“Uhh… It is going decent.”

Hoseok was kicking himself. Just a minute ago he was fantasizing about going on a date with you and thinking about how cute you were and now he could barely finish a sentence! How was he supposed to even possibly ask you out when he couldn’t even get out more than a four word sentence and you were carrying most of the conversation? 

He was handsome, damn it! 

He was a catch! Yet here he was getting flustered by a barista… what has he come to.

You weren’t just any barista though… You were a cute and interesting barista who liked similar books to him.

“Why’d you decide to come outside and eat instead of eating inside?” Hoseok finally asked, trying to push his nerves aside. 

“Oh! Well… It’s hot and stuffy. Plus, you’re here. That helps.” You said quietly and from the corner of Hoseok’s eye he noticed you blush as you gently brushed your shoulder against his. 

A fluttering in Hoseok’s heart made his response get stuck in his throat. What was that supposed to mean? Was she interested in him too? How was he supposed to interpret that?

He cleared his throat and spoke, “Yeah… You’re pretty cool too, I guess.” 

What?

What is all he could say?

How lame!

“I mean, I think you’re cool. I just don’t know you much yet and don’t want to say something that might possibly be wrong… I don’t think you might not be cool though! I just-”

Your laugh interrupted Hoseok and struck him into silence. It was a melodious laugh that he could listen to for hours on end and never get bored. 

“I am glad you think I am cool, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, turning towards Hoseok with a broad smile.

Hoseok’s heart was beating wildly now. Its erratic heartbeats weren’t ideal earlier when you were simply sitting next to him but now? How was he even supposed to focus with you staring at him intently? Especially with your lips looking like the perfect place for his own lips.

Unintentionally, Hoseok started to lean towards you.

They really did look wonderfully soft. 

What was he thinking about?

You were practically a stranger! Even worse: you were Namjoon’s employee! For all he knew you were trying to use Hoseok to get a better pay.

But Namjoon paid his employees well… and most didn’t have tons of room to grow with the work as it was a small cafe. 

“I enjoy your company too, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok said with a cough as he turned to face the street again. 

All of the sudden he was very focused on how hot he was feeling. It wasn’t summer but the heat was… present. He was probably blushing and sweating from the heat. Nothing else.

“Even if we have a conversation like this? Where we’re both awkward?” You asked with a strained laugh, leaning into Hoseok.

You had stopped eating.

“Uhh… y-y-yeah. I am having fun. Even if it doesn’t seem like I am.” 

“So… would you enjoy my company if we… went on a date, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked slowly, your voice devoid of all laughter.

“Oh. I. Yeah! Totally.” Hoseok’s voice cracked and he leaned back and coughed to try to cover it up, “I mean… It’d be cool, I guess. Yeah. That would be nice.” 

You giggled, “Wonderful. How does… Tomorrow at seven in the evening sound? We can meet up here and then go somewhere close by.” 

That was so soon.

He could make it though.

“Yeah. That works.” Hoseok nodded, trying to ignore the incessant vibrations from his phone that was sitting in his pocket.

“Are you going to take that, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked with a small giggle, already going back to eating your food.

“Oh. Yeah.” 

He quickly grabbed his phone and looked at who was calling. It was Jisoo, one of his employees.

“Hey… boss. I am sorry but uhh… I can’t make it to my shift. I have been vomiting nonstop. I think I have food poisoning. I am about to go to the hospital. I tried asking Jinyoung but apparently he is currently working and can’t do any more overtime. I am so sorry.” Jisoo spoke hurridly.

Hoseok winced at the connotation. He only had two employees aside from him and this meant that he would have to go in and keep the shop open until ten tonight. Five hours more of work and he needed to leave soon.

“Don’t worry, Jisoo. You didn’t intend to get sick. Take care.” Hoseok said before hanging up and looking over at you, “That is sadly my signal to go.”

You looked like a kicked puppy in that moment, a sad gaze growing as you looked up at Hoseok, “Ok. See you tomorrow.”

All while he walked away, he wished that he could turn around and spend the rest of your break together. He felt like an ass for leaving right after agreeing to a date but his shop needed him. It was the curse of a shop owner and it was a curse that Hoseok had chosen. 

Of course, what he hadn’t realized until he got to his shop and Jinyoung had left was that he completely forgot to get your number once again. 

He was such a damn idiot at times!

Now he couldn’t text you to fill the time that he was forced to work. He also couldn’t get any more information about your date. Would it be formal? Casual? Where were you going to take him? Should he get a gift for you? 

It’d make sense that the two of you would be going on a date after your shift because otherwise why would he meet you at Namjoon’s cafe? 

In the end Hoseok fretted all throughout his shift and the night about what he could possibly wear for his date tomorrow. Everything felt wrong and he had no idea what to do. Everything he did and tried on felt like not enough. Nothing felt right and for the first time in a while, he didn’t know what to do. First dates were hard and he didn’t know how to prepare. 

He shaved and just barely missed twenty nics and even took a longer than normal to make sure that he wouldn’t stink during the date but what was he supposed to wear?

Despite his panicking and fears, Hoseok somehow managed to calm himself down to restlessly sleep that night and was even able to work in the morning. After work though, he was back to panicking. Somehow Hoseok managed to settle for wearing a simple pair of light blue jeans, one of his favorite large shirts with a smile on it, and his long tan jacket.

His whole afternoon bleed into itself and eventually Hoseok found himself sitting on the bench outside of Namjoon’s cafe, a single sunflower held loosely in his hands as he waited for you (he got it at some point between changing into his current clothes and coming here but he didn’t know if he could manage to pinpoint exactly when he had).  He barely had enough sense to wear his jacket for when the sun set and it got cold (or if he had to hide in it if you ended up taking him to some fancy restaurant). He would feel so underdressed if you did.

Why would you though?

From what Hoseok understood, you were just coming off of work so you probably wouldn’t want to go to some fancy place. Plus, working in a cafe wasn’t going to get you too much money, even if one’s employer gave them a living wage. You’d probably be a little pressed for money. 

If that was an issue though, Hoseok would be more than happy to pay but he wouldn’t care either way. 

It also probably wasn’t Hoseok’s place to pry at this time either.

In a last ditch attempt to make sure he was ready for the date, he quickly tried to check his breath with his hand, only getting blasted with air in his face instead. How was he even supposed to check his breath with his hand? 

Had his hair got messed up on his trip here?

Had they even agreed to meet here? Maybe you said a different place instead? 

Just to check, he looked inside the cafe and didn’t see you there. It was almost seven so maybe you were in the back? Maybe he could just text Namjoon to make sure you were off at seven. Hoseok didn’t want to overstep yet. 

“Are you looking for someone in there, Hoseok-ssi?” You asked from beside him, scaring him to the point that he jumped up and almost dropped the sunflower in his hands.

Once he managed to get his bearings again, his breath was taken away by how etheral you looked. There was almost no way that you had come from work, Hoseok was sure of that. Your hair was beautifully and simply styled and your outfit… Hoseok loved every bit of it. His heart fluttered slightly as he looked you over again (barely noticing the reddening blush growing on your face). You looked so good and for the umpteenth time that day, he questioned his own choice in clothes. He might be really underdressed. 

Dress pants would have been better to wear instead of jeans. What was he thinking? He really goofed up.

“Y-You look wonderful tonight, Y/n-ssi.” Hoseok finally said, blushing lightly as you laughed quietly.

“So do you, Hoseok-ssi.” You complimented, a broad smile on your face as you stepped closer and looked down at the sunflower.

“I… Uhhh… I got this for you. I don’t know what your favorite flower is or if you even like flowers but I thought it would be nice.” He stuttered out, quickly giving the flower to you. 

You looked up at Hoseok with a small laugh before saying, “I love it Hoseok-ssi. Shall we get to the restaurant? I got a reservation for seven thirty.”

“A reservation! I guess it is really fancy, huh?” Hoseok asked, rubbing his neck nervously as he started to walk with you.

“No. Not really. It is just popular and I didn’t want to have to spend the night looking for somewhere to eat. I hope you like Haemul Pajeon (vegetable pancake), I got us a reservation at a small place that is just about three blocks down the street. They make wonderful food.” 

“I love the sound of that. How’s your day been so far, Y/n-ssi?” Hoseok asked, biting his lip to hide a large smile growing on his face.

Haemul Pajeon was one of his favorite foods… and Y/n was being so considerate. He was feeling so soft and mushy. How dare you make him feel so soft. 

He loved it.

“It hasn’t been the best. I worked the morning shift and… well there are always rude customers but morning people have such a strange breed of rude customers.” You had started rambulling, animatedly gesturing and talking about the rude morning customers.

Hoseok simply watched and listened as you kept going on, a content and fuzzy feeling washing over him as he kept waking next to you. Occasionally your shoulders and hands brushed as you expertly led the way to the restaurant while ranting and while it left Hoseok reeling, it didn’t seem to phase you at all. He could live with that though. As long as you were happy. 

In the midst of all your rambling about work, the two of you made it to the restaurant. It was at the bottom of a large building, the upper floors likely dedicated to apartments or business offices. Even from the outside, Hoseok could see a large mass of people jostling around in the restaurant. Large friend groups talking and moving around the restaurant drunkenly, couples draped over each other, and restaurant workers expertly weaving through the masses. 

It was obviously a popular place and it made Hoseok just a little nervous. How would you and him get to talk much when all that was happening around you two? Maybe it would be more of a people watching event? One where he only really talked when it came to theories about other’s lives outside of this restaurant. 

There wasn’t too much time to think though as the two quickly started walking inside. You only stopped talking after introducing yourself to the hostess. In the silence between you two, Hoseok looked around the restaurant. It looked different from the outside. Whereas earlier it looked as if it would be a party place, now that Hoseok was inside, he could see a semblance of organization to the chaos.

Despite both you and Hoseok not talking, there wasn’t a silence that fell. The whole of the restaurant was lively and filled with a soft amiability that Hoseok really enjoyed. 

“Alright. Your reservation is ready. Please follow me.” The hostess said, bowing slightly before turning around and starting to weave through the tables. 

Hoseok swallowed his nerves before he started walking in front of you (the three of you had to walk single file because the space was too small to walk side by side) and gently grabbed your hand from behind. People were bumping up against him as he quickly followed behind the hostess but his grip on you didn’t falter. He hoped that his hand wasn’t too sweaty and that he wasn’t gripping you too hard, but Hoseok was nervous and he didn’t want to lose you in the crowd (or let go of your hand yet). 

The table that you had reserved was tucked in a corner and overlooked all of the action happening in the bar. There was a small candle lit between the two of you that flickered gently in the soft breeze created by the fans above. Hoseok liked the spot.

“I just realized,” You started with a laugh once you sat down, “I talked the whole walk here. Silly me. I got carried away. How has your day been so far?” 

“I like listening to you talk so it’s ok. As for my day, it has been a good day. I didn’t make any more pottery, but I headed the shop and got some good work done there.” Hoseok started, a large smile on his face as he looked across the table at you. 

“Oh! So you’re one of Namjoon’s business friends?”

Hoseok snorted at that. Namjoon did have a lot of business friends at this point.

“Yeah. I think I might be Namjoon’s first business friend though. We met in high school and have been friends since. Back in high school Namjoon wanted to be an astrologer believe it or not.” 

“Oh? I wouldn’t have guessed!” You laughed, “So what do you do?”

“I am a potter. My shop is just two streets over from the cafe you work at.” Hoseok nodded.

“Own. Namjoon and I are co-owners. I run the front.” You corrected lightly, “How about we look at the menu?” 

“Oh. Yeah. Let’s look.” Hoseok nodded along, somewhat caught off guard.

You were the co-owner? It made sense, Hoseok thought as he opened the menu, you looked like she belonged in that cafe. Plus, you were closer to Namjoon’s age than the other baristas' ages. He should have seen it coming. 

After a few minutes of looking through the menu Hoseok spoke up, “So… have you figured out what you’re going to get?” 

“Yeah. I am thinking of getting Haemul Pajeon with a side of chicken feet. What about you?” 

“Uhhh… I think that I am going to get Haemul Pajeon as well but with a side of kimchi. I’m not too hungry today.” Hoseok laughed lightly thinking back to his two large stress induced meals earlier today. 

You snorted and laughed lightly before taking a sip of your water, “I get that. Plus, the Haemul Pajeon are quite large. They have great deals.” 

Shortly after you two decided, a waiter came by and took your order, and then Hoseok and you were left in amicable silence once again. He was a ball of nerves once again and he had no idea of where to go from here… He wasn’t this anxious when he started dating Minjae… why was it so hard with you? Maybe because he was genuinely interested in you from the start and he was scared of screwing it up. Maybe because he had just spent most of the day fretting over this date and now that it was here, he realized that he didn’t think over the right stuff. 

“So,” Hoseok coughed lightly, hoping to clear his throat some, “Do you come to this restaurant often?”

“Not really. I came here the first night I moved into the apartment complex above the cafe but since then I haven’t. I actually came here on my own and just sat at the bar and talked to random strangers. It is amazing to see what conversations one can have when they’re open to it.” You said with a smile as you looked over at the bustling bar space. 

“I can imagine. I haven’t gone to bars much so I don’t have such conversations often but I have never had a dull conversation.” Hoseok said wistfully, thinking back to some of the talks that he had when he volunteered to help the homeless back in Gwangju. He wanted to keep up the volunteer work when he moved to Seoul but it simply didn’t happen. He got carried away with his studies and his life and service work simply got put on a backburner.

“Yeah? I doubt that, Hoseok-ssi.” You laughed, “I can’t believe you’ve never had a dull conversation. Not even one with a boring professor?”

Hoseok laughed lightly and shrugged, “I mean, I guess you could count some of those conversations as dull. I guess I was more thinking about general conversations with people… not cardboard cutouts.” 

You snorted at this before taking a large sip of your water, blush rising quickly on your face. A sense of pride washed over Hoseok at your reaction. He had made you laugh. It felt good to make someone smile this much. 

“I loved most of my professors, don’t get me wrong. They were amazing, but oh my gosh. Ask Namjoon about Professor Gaewon who taught our Stat 240. He was such a snore.” Hoseok started animatedly, smiling as you laughed again, “Even for me and I double majored in Statistics and Business. Dude could put me to sleep in seconds. Lecture or not. I went to one of his office hours once and it was even worse.” 

“Oh really?” You asked with a laugh, raising your eyebrows and looking at him with a lopsided grin.

“Oh yeah! I wanted to know a little more information about some complicated statistic and the details and whatnot, nerdy stuff really. He got so excited but you couldn’t tell because he talked in such a monotone voice,” Hoseok smiled brightly before he started mimicking Professor Gaewon, “This statistic, blah blah blah. It is interesting stuff.”

You were laughing uncontrollably at this point and Hoseok couldn’t help but indulge in the butterflies that fluttered wildly in his stomach. This was amazing.

“Needless to say, I didn’t go to his office hours after that.” 

You nodded, “I didn’t have anything like that in college. I mean, I was also not a business major and didn’t have to take any stat classes but I mostly got a lot of very pretentious professors who had written books or wild professors who I loved. I didn’t enjoy the former.” You laughed lightly and shook your head, “They seemed to think that they knew everything. It was painful.” 

“Oh? What’d you major in?” 

“I double majored in Literature and History. I love it. Don’t use it much with my work but that is ok.” You said, coming to a stop when the waitress came with sides for the food. 

You and Hoseok slightly bowed to the waiter before turning back to each other and smiling. For a couple minutes, the conversation died down and the noise of the restaurant around you two filled the air as both of you indulged in the sides. Before you and Hoseok had time to continue conversing, the waiter returned and gave both of you your Haemul Pajeon and the two of you dug in All throughout eating, the two of you made comments about how the Haemul Pajeon compared to what you two had had in the past. 

Somehow, all the time in the restaurant blurred together and before he even knew it, the two of them were back at Namjoon’s and your cafe. It had closed by now, the windows dark and reflecting the party life outside. 

“Well… this was a great night, Hoseok-ssi.” You said, swaying forwards and backwards with a soft and happy smile plastered across your face. 

Hoseok felt giddy looking at you. How did he get so lucky to have you ask him out? 

“It was. I would love to do it again sometime.” 

“Yeah.” You giggled and bit your lip as you asked.

“Yeah.” Hoseok nodded, biting his own lip as he took a step closer to you.

You took a step closer to him as well, your smile growing as you reached out and grabbed Hoseok’s waist. He leaned closer at this and gently pressed his lips against yours, you quickly reciprocating. His hands rose to cup your face as the kiss got heated, soon enough tongues starting to intertwine. 

A moan left him as you broke the kiss, a sly smile spreading on your face, “You may have to work for my phone number first, Hoseok-ssi.” 

He groaned quietly and smiled, his hands sliding down your soft face to your shoulders, “Well then, can I get your number then, Y/n-ssi?” 

You took a step away from Hoseok and giggled as his hands fell to his sides, “Nope. Try again tomorrow… then I will consider. Until then, good night, Hoseok-ssi.” 

[sgtduckybucky]

coming home to you

Genre: hurt/comfort, romance, angst and slight fluff.

Warning(s): slight au

Words: 2058

A/N: euhedeuhed NO ONE TOLD ME ALFIE WAS BACK!! UJHUEHEIUED I haven’t watched s5 and i wont for a while because im watching one piece so forgive me if this isn’t as accurate as the show. that’s why I added au as a warning since i only saw a clip of alfie on youtube.

this is a sequel to farewell and a gif but can be read alone! i won’t add links since posts don’t show up with links but send me an ask and i’ll give you think!

lastly, sorry for any spelling or grammar errors!

»»————-　♡　————-««

the sound of the fire cackling in the fire place was an odd source of comfort as the harsh december wind howled outside. this year’s winter was harsh and unkind to humans. just this morning, you’ve read in the paper that five people died from the extreme cold britain’s getting this year.

you poured yourself another cup of earl grey as a new louis armstrong song began playing on the record player as you enjoyed reading The Mysterious Affair at Styles. and just as you were about to doze off three chapters, cyrill suddenly lifts his head up and trots to the window, a low whine coming from deep within him.

you paid him no mind at first, but when he started pawing at the window, you closed your book and stopped the record player before walking to where cyrill was. pulling back the shades, you picked through the snow caked windows. squinting your eyes to see what got cyrill so worked up. when you couldn’t spot anything you drew the windows and patted the dog’s head, “there’s nothing there, cyrill.” you smiled down at him, “probably a squirrel trying to hide from the snow.”

glancing at the wall clock, you were surprised to find that it was getting close to midnight. once you’ve cleaned the living room, you switched off the lights and head to one of the guest rooms on the first floors. ever since your pregnancy started showing the baby growing heavier, you’ve decided to move your bedroom on the lower level since it was way too exhausting for you to get up the stairs. the room wasn’t much, barely decorated, but it was a place for you to rest and sleep in. and the bathroom next to it had standing shower which was also another reason why you moved to this room since you had quite a scare by almost falling out of your bathtub as you were getting up.

as you settled into bed, you glanced at the picture frame on the night table. the picture was of you and alfie from almost two years ago. you were at the pier on a rare and sunny day in britain and you had begged alfie to go. it was on of the most memorable days you’ve had together. the picture was of you and alfie standing behind those cutout boards where they had a muscled man lifting a woman and, thinking it would be hilarious, you stood behind the man’s cutout face while alfie, grumbling at first, stood behind the woman’s cutout face. slowly, your eyes closed shut at the fond memories.

»»————-　♡　————-««

life as an eight month pregnant woman wasn’t easy. you can’t bend any more to pick anything so once that object is on the ground, it stays there until either cyrill picks it up or when ollie drops by later and picks it up for you. you can’t have a good night’s sleep either since the baby keeps kicking you from all sides every two fucking minutes and you were always hungry for the strangest food! oh, and you’d pee a lot too which was getting on your nerves.

however, there are small perks to being this far along. the most noticeable one, and by your favorite, is the many discounts from markets and stores. the minute they lay eyes on you, pity brimming in their eyes, they just lower the price for whatever it was you were buying.

like today for example. you were suddenly craving an orange cake and chicken for dinner so you decided to head to the market early and start cooking. maybe even have ollie for dinner if he wasn’t too busy. the elderly woman took one look at you and lowered your groceries from thirty pounds to twenty pounds. and when she heard that your boyfriend died before he could even propose, she lowered it to fifteen pounds!

sometimes, it’s great being pregnant. you chuckled to yourself as you made home. it wasn’t too cold this afternoon so you weren’t in a rush as you walked through town. however, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that someone was watching you. but every time you turned around, there was no one there. it was when you started hearing a second set of footsteps behind you did you pick your pace and take the long route home hoping to shake whoever was following you off. when you were certain the person wasn’t following you anymore, you quickly made it to your home and locked the doors. and rushed to pick the phone.

“hello?”

“t-tommy.” you stuttered into the phone.

“y/n?” tommy asked in slight surprise since you haven’t spoken to each other since that day you threatened to shoot his face off when you found out that you were pregnant with alfie’s baby.

“ca-can you come over? i think someone’s following me.” you whispered into the phone as you peaked through the window to make sure that no one was standing outside of your house.

“i’ll be right over.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

it’s been two weeks and you were positive that someone’s stalking you. tommy had insisted that him and the rest of your brothers would take turns staying the night at your place and accompanying you to any appointment or errand you need to run.

you were about to protest at first, yell and remind them that you weren’t some damsel in distress but when arthur said, “what if alfie’s enemies know that you were carrying his child.” he didn’t have to continue that statement as it was pretty obvious what he was saying. what if they knew you were carrying alfie’s baby and they were trying to kill you?

shaken to your core, you placed a protective hand on your belly and nodded your head.

“are you sure you don’t want me to stay over?” finn asked you, a frown tugging at his lips in concern.

you tried not to roll your eyes at your younger brother, “for the millionth time, i’m sure, finn.”

finn bit his lips, ready to ask the same question again when your house came into view, “finn, i love you all to death but having you lots breathing down my neck and jumping to your feet the minute i feel a cramp is getting on my damn nerves.”

finn looked away in guilt, “we’re just worried is all.”

you smiled appreciatively at your brother, “and i’m thankful for you all.” you said you leaned in and kissed his cheek, “but i need some time alone before i go fucking insane.”

chuckling along with you, finn nodded his head and watched you enter your home before leaving to meet up with michael.

-

“cyrill, i’m home!” you called as you discarded your coat and scarf and hung them on the coat rack by the door, “cyrill?”

confused, you slowly and quietly made your way to the living room in case he was sleeping.

but what greeted you wasn’t cyrill sleeping soundly on the couch, but of a large and burly man sitting on the couch with cyrill laying across his lap. his hair was short and a dark brown color that turned golden under the sun. his chin was covered in a greying brown beard while his mustache dropped down his lips. the left side of his face was scarred and almost disfigured with his left eye was a hauntingly greyish white color.

“a-alfie?” you chocked. your legs shook and almost gave out had you not slammed your hand on the coffee table in time.

“in the flesh.” he replied while shrugging nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal to show up at yours and your girlfriend’s house despite being supposedly dead.

“h-how?”

“i think you should sit down, love.”

shaking your head, you lifted your finger and pointed at alfie, voice going into hysterics as you said, “you’re s-supposed to be d-dead! t-tommy...tommy shot you! you died!”

aflie just sat as he silently watched the tears falling down your cheeks and into the carpeted floor, “like i said, y/n, you should sit down.”

and as if you were a puppet being controlled by your master, you shuffled your way to the armchair across the couch alfie was sitting on with cyrill.

“where do i begin.” alfie heaved as he dragged his hand down his face, making you wince as his hand came in contact with his scarred skin.

“from the start.” you spoke softly.

and alfie did as told. he talked about that day on the beach when tommy confronted him, how he was willing to die after he found out he was terminally ill and was going to die anyways and how tommy shot him.

“you were dying.” you whispered, eyes widening in shock at the revelation, “why didn’t you tell me?”

guilt flashed in alfie’s eyes, “i didn’t want you to worry.”

you stood up on your feet in rage but the abrupt movement made you dizzy so you sat back down, a hand on your head to stop your head from spinning. all the while alfie watched with a deep set of frown.

“you were going to leave me.” you said, a dry chuckle escaping through you lips, “you were going to leave us.”

“so that’s mine.” alfie pointed at your enlarged stomach with his, “good to know.”

anger bubbled inside of you at his words and at his carefree attitude, “he’s not yours. not after what you did.” you couldn’t help the tears from rolling down your cheeks but you were angry. you were angry that your brother had shot your lover, angry that you mourned someone who wasn’t even dead,  you were angry that he kept his illness from you and you were angry that he didn’t even tell you he was alive.

“why didn’t you tell me?” you chocked on your sob as tears blurred your vision, “why didn-” your throat tightened and you swallowed thickly. you were hurt. you were hurt, alone and scared these past eight and half months. worrying if you and your baby would survive this pregnancy, if your baby could survive the harsh winter and with someone stalking yo-

“have you been following me?” you asked as realization dawn on you.

“i was.” alfie replied.

“why?”

it took alfie a couple of seconds before he replied, “i wanted to see if you were safe.”

“were you going to come back?”

alfie looked away, wether in shame or to feed you a lie, you didn’t know.

“I was going to remain in hiding, keep a low profile from the bloody police but then i saw you were with child.” he pointed at your belly with his finger, “and i had to make sure whichever bastard did that to you was taking good care of ya. turns out i was the fucking bastard.” he chuckled humorlessly.

there was a short pause before you asked, “so why are you here?”

alfie’s fingers brushed cyrill’s thick fur, his miscolored eyes never leaving yours as he answered, “i wanted to come back home to you.”

“and what if i don’t want you back?” you raised an eyebrow challengingly, “what if i wanted you gone? what if i never wanted to see you again?”

“then i’ll leave.” alfie quickly replied.

“and what about your cancer? what if you leave us again, i-”

this time, alfie got up from the couch and kneeled down in front of you, taking both of your hands into his bigger and rougher ones.

“i promise i won’t leave you.” he kissed your hands with his chapped lips.

“how can i trust you?” you whispered.

“call fate or divine intervention or whatever but when your fucked up in the head of a brother shot me, the doctors drugged me up so much for so long that it cured my skin cancer.” he kissed your hands again but when he felt a tear drop land on his nose, he sat up straighter and kissed your tears away.

“i’m giving you one more chance.” you held alfie’s face in your hands, your thumb gently caressing the scarred skin, “if you leave us again, i swear i’ll bring you back from the dead and kill you myself.”

alfie chuckled, leaning in to softly peck your lips, “it’s a promise.”