#eh I’m sure he’d pick it up if I bought it

[aiizaph]

I am so torn on whether or not to get Phantom Show since it’s on sale.

On one hand, it’s one of my favourite depictions of Rayman and I’d love to have the experience to play it.

On the other hand, what the hell am I gonna do with the base game? I have no interest in it.

[7ndipity]

Matching Costumes

Yoongi x Reader

Summary: Yoongi realizes he likes your costume idea more thank he thought he would.

Warnings: Yoongi’s dressed as a vampire(yes, I think that requires a warning), suggestive, joke about biting, reader wears a dress(?) not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! It’s a little short, and a lil self-indulgent, but I hope you’ll still like it!

Masterlist Spooktober m.list

Requests are open

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Truthfully, Yoongi wasn’t really the biggest fan of Halloween, but he knew that you were, so when he mentioned that the company was having their annual Halloween party and asked if you wanted to go as his date, he knew perfectly well what he was getting himself into, but he couldn’t resist. He loved seeing the way your eyes lit up in excitement, immediately beginning to brainstorm costume ideas for the two of you.

“What do you want to go as?” You’d asked as you scrolled through ideas online.

“Eh, whatever you want to pick is fine,” He’d said easily. “I trust your judgment.”

“Really?” You quirked a brow at him.

“Mmm, to an extent,” He clarified, grinning. “But I’m reserving the right to veto if you choose something too weird.”

“So, no gender swap Mario and Princess Peach?” You teased.

“Definitely not.”

“Damn, back to square one then.” You pouted as you turned your attention back to your phone, making him snicker.

In truth, you’d known what you wanted to get as soon as he’d asked you, but you wanted to browse around a bit before you bought them, just to be sure. You knew it was a lil bit of a cop out and cliche, but you couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease Yoongi a bit, getting you matching costumes in the theme of ‘Dracula and his bride’.

It’d been a running joke between the two of you since before you had even started dating that you thought he was secretly a vampire, due to things ranging from his primarily nocturnal work schedule to his consistently cold hands.

Yoongi had rolled his eyes when you showed him the costumes, but hadn’t said no, much to your delight, so you’d quickly ordered the outfits and waited impatiently for the night of the party.

…

“I don’t have to actually wear the fake fangs, do I?” Yoongi asked as he finished buttoning his dress shirt.

“Not unless you want to.” You called from the bathroom, where you were putting on the final touches to your own look.

“I don’t.” He replied, fidgeting with the long, black cape as it refused to hang right over his shoulders.

It wasn’t a bad look on him, he had to admit as he studied his black clad reflection, reminding him faintly of the suit he’d worn for a photoshoot with one of his friends last year.

“You know, we don’t have to actually go to this thing, we could just go to din-?” His suggestion died on his lips as he caught sight of you in the mirror as you entered the room, turning around quickly to see you properly.

The main costume was just a long black dress, cinched in at the waist to emphasize your figure before the skirts flowed down over your hips, your hair styled and pinned back so it showed off your neck, including the carefully painted bite marks you’d placed just above you collarbone. It wasn’t the most elaborate costume, but it had still managed to make his mouth go dry as he took you in, unable to tear his gaze away.

“You’re staring.” Your voice snapped him back to attention.

“No, I wasn’t.” He denied instantly, despite the faint rosy hue that was creeping up his face. “I was just admiring my partner.”

“Mhm.” You nodded.

“I was!”

“I’m not arguing with you.” You laughed, raising a brow at him. “Sheesh, you’re acting like this the first time you’ve seen me in a dress.”

“I have, just not like this.” He said, pulling you in by the waist.

“Like what?” You asked.

“Matching.”

“Really?” You looked up at him in amusement. “You like this?”

“A little.” He admitted.

“Should I get us matching hoodies or sweatsuits too?” You grinned, making him scowl at you.

“Don’t tease me, I’m trying to have a moment here.” He complained, tightening his grip on you.

“Alright, I’m sorry.“ You chuckled, pushing up on your tiptoes to brush a lock of hair out of his eyes, studying his face. “You look really handsome, by the way.”

“You haven’t seen the whole costume.” He said.

“I wasn’t talking about the costume.” You said, grinning as you lightly pecked his lips.

That did it. He quickly ducked his head, chasing your mouth with his, letting out a deep, contented sigh as he caught you in another, longer kiss.

His lips moved slowly against yours at first, before quickly growing more needy and trailing down, latching onto a spot just under your jaw, eliciting a gasp from you when you felt his teeth scrape lightly over the skin.

“Yoongi.” You whined, but not trying to pull away.

“What? You’re the bride of Dracula, it only makes sense that you’d have a few bite marks.” He chuckled, lightly sucking another spot before switching to the other side of your neck to make it match.

“We’re gonna be late.” You stammered, trying to keep focused, but he wasn’t making it easy.

Reluctantly, he pulled back, making your eyes widen at the red that was smudged around his mouth before reaching up to touch your neck.

“Agh, you smudged my makeup!” You realized, your brief alarm shifting to annoyance.

“Like I care.” He smirked, trying to lean back in, but you pulled back just out of his reach.

“Nu-uh, we’ve got a party to go to, Dracula, remember?”

“Do we have to though?” He asked. “I mean, we could just stay here and-”

“Nope,” You stopped him. “I told the other’s we’d be there, we have to at least make an appearance.”

“What if I convince you to stay home?” He questioned lowly.

“And how do you plan to do that?” You asked, foolishly letting him catch you in another kiss.

You never made it to the party.

[newtonsheffield]

So… how does Anthony propose to Kate in Take a Deep Breath? Or is that something we see later on? If so just ignore this. We will never speak of it again.

Anthony has been planning this for a very long time. He’s been planning it since the second they got together, if he’s honest with himself. He was already so sure of Kate. So sure that she was the person he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. He was already planning it when they found out Neddy was on the way and then he didn’t do it. Not because he was any less sure. If anything, he was more sure. Every day he was more sure that Kate is the person he was meant to find. Even when he’s holding her hair and rubbing her back during morning sickness and running down the street at 3am to find a shop still open for packets of crisps and ice cream. Even then he’s happy, he’s excited to be the person she picked to share the life he knows she wanted for herself so badly. But he didn’t want her to think he was proposing because she was pregnant. In a way he didn’t want to take the shine off it. They have a baby together, they bought a house that’s in both of their names, they’re more married than some people who are legally married. Honestly, it’s not that important to Anthony but he knows it’s important to Kate.

It doesn’t help that since they had Neddy it feels like there’s so much pressure on him to propose. He asked for Kate’s father’s blessing and he feels like every time he sees Tharman recently he looks at that man holding his grandson and the older man sighs,

“Anthony, why isn’t my baby engaged?”

“I’m working on it! I promise!”

His siblings and mother niggle at him every time he sees them.

“Just ask her!”

“Daphne! Have you ever proposed to anyone?! No! Nose out!”

“I’ve accepted a few proposals in my time!”

Simon’s head shot up, “A few?! Who else’s proposal did you accept?!”

Anthony’s also not helped by the fact that even before Neddy was born he was referring to Kate as his wife. He’d stitched himself up the first time Kate had gone to pick Hyacinth up from school when he got caught up at work and found his girlfriend standing with her arms crossed as she leaned against the doorframe, Hyacinth scribbling madly on a piece of paper.

“Oh, there’s my husband!”

Anthony stopped dead, his eyes narrowed, aware he’d somehow made a misstep. “What have I done?”

Kate raised her eyebrows, “Miss Beckett greeted me today as Mrs Bridgerton. Was I there when we got married?”

Anthony flushed, wrapping his arm around her waist. “You are my wifey.”

Kate relaxed into his arms chuckling, “You could officially make me your wife, you know.”

“These things take time, Babe.”

“You could do it right now.”

“I’m not going to do it here.”

“Fine!” Kate sighed, Nudging his ribs. “I’ll wait.”

Finally, Anthony decides to propose after Neddy’s birth. He takes Kate and Neddy out for a picnic and makes her a daisy chain, and he asks her to marry him. When Kate finally swipes the tears from her eyes she takes a shuddering breath.

“God, finally. I had to push out a baby for it, Jesus.”

Anthony rolled his eyes, “Eh, worth the wait surely.”

“Very worth the wait.”

[themultifandomgal]

Tommy Shelby- 1 Becomes 2

They say that when you know who the one is you just know. I thought I knew, but I was wrong. So wrong. So wrong in fact I ended up here in small Heath having to take a barmaids job and sorting out the protection from the Peaky Blinders just to keep myself alive.

When I met my now ex, he was kind, handsome, a true gentleman. He had a well payed job and was respected amongst his colleagues. Woman wanted him, men wanted to be him. So when he took an interest in me there was no way I was going to pass up on that opportunity. Woman were envious which gave me a confidence boost… that is until a year into our relationship. He changed from the most gentle, kind guy to an evil son of a bitch. Threats were constantly made, bruises were often appearing on my arm in the shape of fingers, I tried to leave before, but he’d always suck me back in “I do this because I love you” he’d often say “there’s no one else but you. I need you” and I believed him. I believe him until I saw him fucking one on his coworkers butt naked bent over his desk. That was it. The final straw. He didn’t care about me, hell he probably never did. So I packed up my shit and left, but those threats he made never seemed empty.

I’d heard about the Peaky Blinders through the grapevine like most people, but most people don’t pack up their lives and leave to meet the dangerous men of Birmingham.

I finish closing up the Garrison when I hear the bell ring signalling that someone has just entered. I don’t bother turning around thinking it will be one of the regulars

“We’re closed” I say sounding bored

“Good job my brother owns the place eh?” Turning round I see Tommy Shelby strolling his way towards the bar I’m behind, cigarette hanging out of his mouth, peaky cap on his head as it always is. No one can deny that Tommy Shelby is handsome, but men have done nothing but cause me pain and heartache

“Mr Shelby” I acknowledge “whiskey?” Tommy grunts in response

“Make sure it’s…”

“Irish I know” I give him a little smile before turning round and grabbing a glass and Tommys usual whiskey. I slide it over to him as he stubs out his cigarette. I continue wiping down the surfaces trying to ignore the fact that Tommy Shelby is watching my every move making me nervous “is there anything else I can get you Mr Shelby”

“Enough with the formalities. Call me Tommy”

“Ok, Tommy, is there anything else I can get you?” I repeat my question

“Maybe” he replies, but doesn’t continue. Instead he downs his whiskey then rolls another cigarette on his lips before lighting it up. I stand there in silence, not really sure what to say until he finally tells me more

“I have a proposition for you” Tommy points his cigarette towards me while wearing a smirk across his face

“What… what’s that?” I nervously ask

“I want you to accompany me to the Cheltenham Race. I’ll purchase you a dress to wear”

“But why?”

“I heard your ex will be there with his new girl”

“Ok?” I frown still not knowing why Tommy wants me to go with him, but all he does is smirk before leaving alone in the pub.

The day of the CheltenhamRace arrives, Tommy picks me up in his car and drives us there. The ride was fairly quite, but a good quiet. It didn’t feel awkward at all, we we just both enjoying each other’s company. When we arrive, Tommy helps me out of the car

“Thanks you” I smile holding on to my clutch that Tommy bought. I feel him place his hand on my lower back, guiding me into the building

“You look beautiful by the way” Tommy lowly says, just quiet enough for only me to hear and close enough that I can feel his breath by my ear

“Thank you Tommy. You look very handsome yourself”

“This way” Tommy guides me, his hand never leaving the lower part of my back.

We end up in a room where jazz music is playing and many men and woman are dancing. That’s when I see him. I freeze staring at him from across the room

“Let’s show him what he’s lost then eh?”

“Pardon”

“Care to dance?” Tommy holds out his hand, this time he genuinely smiles at me. Not a smirk a real smile. I smile back and take his hand in mine and we begin to dance 

“I’m still confused to why you asked me here” I tell him as our bodies are pressed against one another

“Your ex…”

“No I know he’s here, but why do you care?”

“He’s been threatening you, talking shit about how if he wanted he could come to small Heath and take you back”

“How did he find out where I was? I didn’t tell anyone”

“Do you know who he works for?” Tommy asks. I shake my head in response “Billy Kimber”

“Shit” I breath out feeling scared

“But, he won’t fucking come near you now he knows your under the Peaky Blinders protection”

“Why do you care about me Tommy?”

“I’m drawn to you YN, like I’ve never been drawn to anyone else before. Let me keep you safe”

“I don’t know what to say”

“Say ok” Tommy says dipping me and looking into my eyes. Tommy Shelby is an enigma, but I truly don’t care. There’s something about him that now I’ve had a small taste, I know I’m going to be addicted.

[asordinaryppl]

A3! Main Story: Part 4 - Act 14: DREAM CATCHER - Episode 23: Best Shot

Troupe member A: Misumi-kun, rehearsal’s running a little late, so we’re gonna start 20 minutes later than planned.

Misumi: Okaaay!

Troupe member B: Misumi-kun, you’re really good at acting, but how much experience do you have? Have you been acting since you were a kid?

Misumi: Nuh-uh, I started when I joined MANKAI Company.

Troupe member A: The new MANKAI Company was established only a few years ago. Oh-ho, we’ve got a natural amongst us.

Troupe member B: What made you want to act all of a sudden?

Misumi: They invited me when I sneaked into Grandpa’s theater company’s dorm~

Troupe member A: Your Grandpa’s company is…

Misumi: My Grandpa’s name is Hakkaku Ikaruga.

Troupe member B: You’re Hakkaku-san’s grandson!

Troupe member A: Ohhh, is that so? Now that you mention it, you do have the same last name.

Troupe member B: I can tell why Syu-san has his eye on you.

Troupe member A: Did ya know? Syu-san is a die-hard fan of Hakkaku-san. He’s still got a picture they took together on his mirror.

Misumi: A picture of Grandpa!?

Syu: What’re you tellin’ him.

Troupe member A: Uh-oh, and here I take my leave.

Troupe member B: Haha, he’s bound to find out anyway if he pays attention.

Misumi: I wanna see the picture of Grandpa!

Syu: … I got no choice. Here ya go.

Misumi: Grandpa…!

Syu: Hakkaku-san didn’t really like taking pictures. This one’s rare, ain’t it?

Misumi: Yup!

Syu: It’s from right around the time you were born…

[Flashback starts]

Hiro: Congratulations on your grandchild’s safe delivery, Hakkaku-san!

Syu: Congratulations.

Kasumi: Wahhh, the baby is so cute~

Zen: Is it a boy?

Yukio: He has your and Kusumi-kun’s eyes.

Syu: Have you decided on a name?

Hakkaku: No, I’ve got a few on my mind, but I haven’t picked yet.

Syu: Since he’s your grandson, he might have a bright future as a scriptwriter.

Hakkaku: Nah… I’d be more at ease if he were an actor. Well, the best thing would be to let him do what he wants to do.

Hakkaku: But if that does end up being his future, I’d really like to see him on top of the stage.

Hakkaku: Especially if it was here at MANKAI Theater. I’d have nothing to complain about then.

Yukio: Haha, we have to do our best to keep going then.

Hiro: You have to get him into acting while you still can.

Zen: If you force him into it, he’ll just avoid it.

Kasumi: You have to live a long life too, Hakkaku-san.

Hakkaku: You’re right. Who’d have thought I’d be making new dreams at my age?

Yukio: Oh, Hakkaku-san. We should take a picture with your grandchild.

Hakkaku: Whaddya mean, with my grandson? This is just a photograph of him.

Yukio: We’ll do it to commemorate! And I’ve just bought a new camera for our company.

Hakkaku: You just want to take a test shot, don’t you? Well, whatever.

[Flashback ends]

Syu: I’m sure Hakkaku-san would’ve also loved to see ya act.

Misumi: Grandpa…

Syu: Nice photo, ain’t it? Normally he’d have never agreed to such a thing, but he was in an unusually good mood that day.

Syu: I’ll give it to you. It’s only right to give it to the person it oughta belong to.

Misumi: Eh? Are you sure…?

Syu: Just as we were going to give the freshly printed photo to him, he told us he’d decided on a name for his grandson.

Syu: Look–

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[sofiadragon]

Magic and Bluejays

Lord, she coming. First, however, I need to get through writing this stupid Hogwarts Express chapter. It's been through 2 full scraps and a major re-write and... you know what? Have at it. I like this much of it, so I'll post this much here and continue to fix it before posting on AO3.

Concrit welcome on this, it is a draft!

Most of the train to Hogwarts was empty since people who arrived this early were still mostly out on the platform waiting for friends. The carriage where the Prefects’ meeting was held was near the front, just behind the engine and a carriage with an employees only sign. Figuring thats where the snack trolley started, Harry Potter wanted to try a compartment closer to the front than he normally had. Gryffindors tended to be near the end of the train while Ravenclaws were nearer the front, but he was sure his friends would find him eventually no matter where he sat. He wanted people to assume he was a transfer Snape picked up from France at least until he got to the school where he could better evade public opinion. With long red hair tipped in black like a fox’s tail, high-quality thin lens glasses that emphasized his mother’s features instead of obscuring his eyes, and a coming of age that had him growing to look more like his mum in general, he wasn’t very recognizable. Most of a month in hospital getting his head shrunk by mind healers and the curse scar healed properly meant the usually red and irritated scar on his forhead was now a hair-thin line that was nearly impossible to see without bright light and an invasion of his personal space. In robes bought in Paris that were wonderfully androgynous he was easily mistaken for a girl, the traditional cut high-quality robe and waitstcoat he wore something The Boy Who Lived with his baggy mismatched muggle rags would never wear. The idea that he’d set a trend and caused a lot of people who read Witch Weekly to wear outfits that weren’t fit to use as dust rags was something the tailor said that Harry ignored to process later, and it still sat poorly in his head. Thankfully he had his emancipation as a ready excuse for why he changed his look now. He could just say he’d never been allowed, and leave it at that.

The second carriage open to students had at least one upperclassman or trunk in each compartment already, but there was one near the lav in the second that he claimed by leaving his trunk on the seat. There was a remote possibility that someone would recognize the trunk, especially if it wasn’t in the hands of a long-haired redhead in traditional wizard clothing, but with Hedwig’s cage shrunken inside he hoped only his dormmates would recognize it, if anyone did. He double-checked the security spell Sirius showed him, which would cover anyone who broke through it in bright red paint and feathers, and headed back up the train.

The first open carriage of the train had no compartments, just rows of bench seats with fold-down tray tables on the back of each row. MacMillan was there already, with a few older students Harry didn’t know well. The stout blond boy had the Defense book laid out in front of him on the tray table close to the window. He’d been decent back in second year about the whole Heir of Slytherin thing, and not too rabid about supporting Cedric, so Harry cautiously took a seat on the bench across the center aisle from him and hoped to make some kind of conversation. Ron and Hermione did a lot of the talking even when he was with other kids, and the mind healers had gone through a whole thing about him hiding behind them too much that hurt his Gryffindor pride.

“That book’s thick as treacle,” Harry said. “I hope the professor makes up for it in class, but I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“Eh? Yeah, it’s a thick one. Better than Lockheart’s nonsense, at least,” the Hufflepuff said. “Sorry, I don’t recognize you.”

“Bonjour, I’m Master Snape’s new apprentice, fresh back in England from Paris,” Harry babbled, a bit nervous despite himself, and the older prefects all turned around to look. “He’ll be right hacked off if we ruin his big announcement, so we should probably keep the finer details in this compartment if we can. I got cornered by Lord Malfoy on the platform when Master Snape dropped me off, though, so I’m sure some people saw that. Best I can do now is keep the rumor mill starved for details, so I’ll just sit on my family name if you don’t mind.”

“I’m all for keeping him in a good mood,” MacMillan agreed. The older students nodded.

“What year are you in?” The tall brunette asking the question had pinned the Head Girl badge to her lavender casual robes. The badge was blue and bronze for Ravenclaw.

“Fifth, and I’ll be playing a bit of catch-up so Master Snape doesn’t plan for me to help with prefect duties until the second term, but the Headmaster might overrule that at the meeting he’s in right now,” Harry said. Other prefects were tricking in, and Malfoy looked at Harry’s seat choice with open irritation. Pansy Parkinson was just behind him, so Harry figured they wanted to sit together and hopped across the aisle to sit next to MacMillan. Parkinson giggled a bit and pulled Malfoy down onto the now free bench.

“Are you behind?” a seventh year Slytherin boy asked. Harry decided to tell as much of the truth as he could now, when people wouldn’t be judging him as The Boy Who Lived and deciding not to listen to any of it because it didn’t fit their expectations of how he should be.

“Last year was awful for me for a dozen reasons, and I had a curse put on me that has been making it hard for me to concentrate and giving me insomnia since I was really little. They made me wait until I was fifteen to get it removed, which Master Snape thinks was very stupid and unnecessary. The specialists we were working with this summer all agreed. Master Snape may not be the nicest person, but he really does hate it when kids get hurt, especially when it’s any kind of on purpose. We got to know each other after he helped me out with all that, he thinks he can get me up to standard enough to take the arithmancy O.W.L. this year despite never taking the class before, and then we had the bonding ritual just a few days ago.”

“You’re doing three years of Arithmancy in one?” MacMillan asked, aghast.

“That sounds like Professor Snape’s work ethic,” the Slytherin seventh-year boy said sagely.

“I went to muggle primary school, long story don’t ask, and he says that I remember the maths I learned there well enough that I should pass as long as I put the work in. It’s the N.E.W.T. score that really matters, anyway, so I just have to do well enough to get into sixth year Arithmancy,” Harry said with a shrug. “He doesn’t expect straight ‘O’s on my O.W.L.s because I’m starting on the back foot, just passing marks, but he wants passing marks in at least ten and no excuses. I’m just glad he didn’t ground me from playing Quidditch if I want to.”

“You any good?” Malfoy asked.

“I love flying,” Harry replied vaguely.

“Do you know why Professor Snape’s plan for you to start prefect duties late wouldn’t be approved by the Headmaster?” the Head Girl asked. A school owl flew in with a scroll with a wax Hogwarts seal, and she turned to take it while she talked. “Masters tend to have total control over their apprentices, and Slytherin has two prefects per year already as far as I’m aware. It’s always nice to have another person available in case somebody needs to switch up the schedule, but we should be fully covered.”

“There’s some kind of silly thing going on with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher he warned me about, not that I know why one thing would effect the other short of him having to teach some of their classes,” Harry said. “That’s a total guess, by the way. I just can’t think of anything else that would throw things off, and he couldn’t rather than wouldn’t give me details, which irritated him on its own so there wasn’t much I could read into it beyond that he doesn’t like it. He had been hacked off about the whole thing since whoever it was got the post, so I assume the new Defense Professor either isn’t qualified or has upset him personally some way.” “Who was upset by the new Defense professor?” Anthony Goldstein asked as he walked in. The Ravenclaw took a seat ahead of Harry. “Professor Snape,” MacMillan said. “Is he on the train?” Hanna Abbott asked as she chose the bench behind Malfoy and Parkinson. “This is Professor Snape’s new apprentice,” Malfoy cut in. “We haven’t had proper introductions, yet.” “And you won’t be having any. Professor Snape wants to have his big announcement at the feast tonight,” the Head Girl called out over the gathering group. “Snape’s Apprentice stays nameless and as unknown as possible unless you want to step on his cloak about it, so we’re not. End of.” “It isn’t just Master Snape the new Professor rubbed the wrong way. From what he said even Professor Sprout is upset, though that might be a bit of cause and effect,” Harry said. “Why would Professor Snape being upset make Professor Sprout upset?” Abbott asked. The older students weren’t even trying to pretend they weren’t listening. “No, no, the other way around. She was at the bonding ritual for my apprenticeship and they act…” Harry trailed off, waving a hand vaguely as he tried to come up with something without saying anything too personal.

“What’s this hot gossip?” asked a sixth year girl that asked Harry to the Yule Ball, getting up to take a seat closer to Harry. All he could remember about her was that she was a Hufflepuff and wore about three times as much perfume as necessary. “No!” Harry shouted, raising both hands defensively. “Not like that. She’s married to one of her old apprentices for Merlin’s sake. I was trying to figure another way to say they act a bit like she’s his mum. I… He told me he lost his mum before he graduated, and Professor Sprout was his Herbology teacher too; I think she sort of scooped him up like an especially grumpy stray cat. If not immediately, then when he started as a professor. He’s only, like, thirty-something, you know? Anyway, I think if someone was mean to her he’d start looming menacingly around the place until they backed off or earned a hex.” With his expressive gestures, his sleeve fell all the way down and exposed the flapping bluejay. “Oh, that’s so pretty!” A seventh-year Gyrffindor girl said. He really should know her name, but she’d never so much as given him the time of day and very deliberately ‘wasn’t taken in by famous Harry Potter’ as she made clear whenever he approached a prefect for anything. “Is that the bondmark or just a tattoo?” “It’s my bondmark,” Harry confirmed, and then was swamped as all the prefects wanted a closer look at it. He ended up scrambling onto the back of the bench Goldstein was sitting on, pressing against the window, and grabbing onto the curtain rod for stability to escape the sudden lack of personal space. “SIT DOWN!” The Head Boy shouted as the train lurched into motion, causing most people to stumble. The brunette Hufflepuff glared in disappointment at everyone from the front of the carriage. Harry wondered if he practiced mimicking Professor Sprout to get that look just right. “Have you all lost your minds? Let her alone.” “Not a her,” Harry said, pointing to himself from his perch as the rest of them slid back into their seats. Outside, parents were waving goodbye to the departing train. “It’s not just the hair, it’s the way that waistcoat lays over the robe,” Malfoy said. “It’s pulling your waist in, flaring out the fabric at your hips, and giving the illusion there’s something hiding under the top to give you a girlish shape.” “I know what I look like, and like I said before I don’t mind it,” Harry said, walking on the back of the bench a couple steps so he didn’t drop down on MacMillan’s books. He gathered his courage as he stepped down onto the seat where he’d been sitting before. “I’m queer, and it’s a bit like a compliment in my book if you think I’m pretty.” “Wouldn’t gay boys want someone that looks like a guy?” MacMillan wondered aloud. “Queer doesn't just mean gay,” Hermione said from the back of the carriage. Ron looked like he wanted to push up closer, but there weren’t any empty seats left except in the very back.

“And with that, we should get started before we go off on an inappropriately wild tangent,” the Head Girl said. “We’re all going to pretend we know nothing about Professor Snape’s new apprentice when we leave this meeting, so we don’t ruin his big announcement at the feast tonight. If you’ve made it this far without realizing that getting on his bad side is a bad idea not even Merlin could help you. If you aren’t a prefect or a quidditch captain, or an apprentice to a professor, get out. Let’s get this done and dusted.” Nobody left, everyone settled down into silence, and she started to read off the scroll the owl brought. “All of last year’s fifth and sixth year prefects are returning as sixth and seventh years. New fifth year prefects are: Hannah Abbott, Anthony Goldstein, Hermione Granger, Ernie MacMillan, Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson, Padma Patil, and Ron Weasley.”

“Weasley?” several people said, looking back at the taller redhead incredulously. There was general muttering over how most people expected the headmaster to pick Harry Potter. “George isn’t still mad he didn’t get the apprenticeship, is he?” Harry asked to cover the rather unflattering comments. Ron looked at him weird then smirked as he caught on to the subject change. “The twins are a law unto themselves, mate. If anyone thinks I’m going to do what Percy couldn’t to keep them in line, they’ve lost the plot,” Ron said. “Best I can do is give McGonagall a bit of advanced warning for the big things. I think it should be fine, though, since Snape helped them with their patent and they want another star from the potions’ guild like nothing else. Just don’t eat anything they offer you without asking them what it does, first, though anyone in here should be smart enough to know that much already.” Harry gave Ron a thumbs-up, and the meeting continued on from there. The upper years introduced themselves in a flurry of names Harry mostly absorbed. After that, it was basically a rehash of all the school rules prefects were expected to enforce and listing out the usual point deductions for each infraction. Prefects could take a few more or less based on circumstances, but they couldn’t take points from other prefects and were expected to focus on policing their own house. More than twenty points would need a written explanation. Prefects could report infractions worthy of detention to a member of staff, but couldn’t assign detention themselves. They could also report actions of distinction if someone was helpful in a way that should earn points, but couldn’t give any out. It was in the official scroll the Head boy and girl had that Snape’s apprentice wasn’t starting as a teaching assistant until next year at the earliest and might not be part of the patrol schedule until second term, confirming what Harry had told them. “The name’s been burned off this paper, I can only assume by Professor Snape himself, so he’s serious about not spoiling his announcement,” the head boy said with a nervous laugh. “I’m tempted to just keep you safe in here wrapped in cotton batting.” “I really wouldn’t try locking me in anywhere,” Harry said, his smile showing too many teeth to be friendly. “Well, I was thinking he’s too nice to be bonded to Professor Snape, but there it is,” one of the older Hufflepuffs said. “Fred and George came back right terrified of the pair of them, when Snape picked him over George,” Ron added from the back. “I’m nice,” Harry grumbled. “Just, not indiscriminately, and I’ve been locked up just to make other people feel safer before and that’s not on.”

“You what?” MacMillan said, leaning away from Harry before checking himself and very carefully trying to look neutrally pleasant. “Part of that long story,” Harry said, realizing he’d said more than he should. “Master Snape got me out of it for good, and you can ask me to explain after you know my name if you want to, not that I’m likely to answer.” “Oh, shit,” said one of the four older Slytherin prefects. They shoved their heads together to have a muffled conversation. Malfoy and Parkinson weren’t sitting close enough to join in, and looked very put out by it. “You need anything related to getting pulled out of where you were, you can come to us directly,” the Slytherin seventh-year boy, Arturous Stems, stood up and waved at the other Slytherin prefects. “Professor Snape did the same for me. Nobody is welcome to ask me about that, and if you badger anyone about what we might be talking about expect me to take it personally.” “Thanks, Stems, I’d like to get back to my trunk for reasons I think you can guess, so… Can we drop it for now?” Harry said. Stems nodded and sat down, clearly getting the message.

“I think we’re about done,” the head girl, Conifer, said. “Unless someone has questions.” When nobody did they declared the meeting closed, and most people started moving out of the carriage to find their friends. MacMillan didn’t move, clearly intending to use the tray table as desk space to study for a while. This was probably meant as a dining car but used for studying since everyone ate in their compartments when the trolley came by, and that was probably why the upper-year Ravenclaws liked to claim compartments close to the front of the train. Once the prefect meeting was over, anyone could come use the space and there was a schedule for one of the seventh-year prefects to always be here in case someone needed them in addition to the patrol schedule that was now written across a board at the front of the car. Ron and Hermione were scheduled for the back end of the train first thing and then again just before arriving at Hogwarts. Harry hung back to avoid the initial crush of traffic, and found himself surrounded by all six Slytherin prefects crowding in the seats in front and behind him. The air got fuzzy, a muffling spell wrapping around them.

“Are you living with the professor now, or do you have to go back for inheritance reasons?” Stems asked quietly. “I’m emancipated, I’ve already inherited my father’s estate, and there’s a friend of the family willing to put me up in exchange for helping him out with the house. It was a moldy pile when he moved in, but it gets better every day. By winter holidays it should be nice and cozy, at least in the most important areas.” That should be sufficiently vague. They would likely assume he means Lupin once they realized who he was. Stems whistled lowly.

“Emancipated? That’s lucky. I got yanked out in third year, after a bad spring break. My family isn’t wealthy enough to bother worrying about being disowned, so I just left. I was living in the Professor’s spare room for part of the following summer, and then the professor found a second cousin of mine that wanted me around,” Stems said. Malfoy’s pointy face was scrunched up in total confusion. “Yanked out of what?” Malfoy asked. “My mum’s magic flared up when I took your mum’s hand at the station. There is no way you’ll understand without detailed diagrams and several hours to think it over,” Harry said with a shake of his head. Malfoy puffed up in indignation. “I mean that as a compliment to your parents,” Harry added, and then Malfoy was confused again. “Yeah, Malfoy’s got a winning hand in that game,” Stems laughed. “Don’t dismiss him too fast, though. He’s good at understanding people, and you’ll be sharing a dormroom for the next few years.”

“That assumes a lot,” Harry said with a bright smile. “You seem like a Slytherin to me, and you said you aren’t a girl anymore,” Stems said, leaning back with a casual shrug. “Some reason you don’t think you’d be in your master’s house?” Harry held up his left arm, and all of them got a good look at the image of a bluejay in flight. “I assume you’ve seen the papers recently. We should run. It would be smart to run, to save our skins and never look back, but we’re too brave and loyal to do that. Maybe a bit of that stubbornness that borders on stupidity, too, but mostly bravery. Master Severus should never have left France, or if he did he shouldn’t have come back to England. Not with a bluejay on his arm instead of a snake and skull. He wouldn’t do it, though. He’s Hogwart’s Head of Slytherin House, and he’ll hold the line until the castle falls around him.” “Professor Snape was really a Death Eater in the way?” the sixth year girl asked.

“He was a spy in the inner circle working against you-know-who. He talked his way around it as if he’d been a double-agent so neither side questioned his loyalty. He was prepared to do it all again if he had to, but then when our bond overwrote the dark mark, well, there’s no explaining that except the obvious. His bond to me was more important to him than whatever made that other mark. It’ll be on sight, if you-know-who comes around. For either of us.” Beside Harry, MacMillan swore. “You’re inside the privacy spell?” “I won’t say a word, I’m not that suicidal,” he replied. “Olive,” Stems said, shooting the other seventh year an irritated look. “Sorry, the seats aren’t very big,” Ollive Olmo said. “So, it’s true then?” MacMillan asked. “You-Know-Who is back?” Malfoy, Parkinson, and the sixth-year boy looked down to avoid eye contact, while the rest shared MacMillan’s expectant expression. “Do any of you think Harry Potter capable of killing Cedric Diggory in cold blood? Because that’s the best explanation if he’s not back,” Harry said. “I’m not sure exactly what the English press was saying, but in France the British Ministry was torn to bits about that whole thing.” “You mean Potter’s trial? I heard he got off on a technicality,” Parkinson said. “Which one?” Harry asked. “The technicality that defending a muggle family member from a six-X creature when they already know about magic neither breaks the statute of secrecy nor is an unexcused breech of the underage sorcery laws, or did you mean the technicality that participating in the tournament to his best ability emancipated him so the trace shouldn’t have still been on his wand to register the spell being cast in the first place?” “Wait, the muggle was a member of his family?” Stems asked.

“His cousin, who he’s lived with since, well, you know,” Harry said, trailing off with a shrug. It was weird talking about himself in the third person like this. Beyond the huddle of Slytherin prefects (and one unwilling Hufflepuff) the carriage was nearly empty. A few people had come in with books or a late breakfast, but they stayed in the back well away from Stems’ group, and the head boy and girl were at the far front. “The Minister didn’t seem to know the details before the trial, so someone hadn’t bothered to do even the most basic fact-finding. Not that there could have been, since they decided to snap his wand over it inside of five minutes late in the evening after-hours and had to be talked down to treating it like he’d been shooting off fireworks in front of Buckingham Palace. There was an interview in the French papers when it first happened, and his solicitor put out a statement explaining it all when the case was dismissed. Wasn’t that published in the Prophet?” “It certainly wasn’t,” Parkinson said. “So you know all about it? How?”

“Only one magical hospital in Paris,” Harry said with a shrug. He was blushing a bit, more because he was flustered trying not to give himself away than from embarrassment. “Master Snape came to check up on what the interview implied, we got to know each other, and it really was all over the French press the last month. Madam Maxine came, and the French Minister, and lots of other people coming and going all the time. The Weasley twins are impossible to miss, and George really did ask to be Master Snape’s apprentice while I was still bedridden. I was too sick to notice much in the middle of the month when they were pulling the curse off me, and Master Snape was with me every other day through the worst of it, but the broad strokes were known to everyone on that floor of the hospital no matter how off their head they were. There are privacy spells so I can’t tell you anything about the health of other patients, but it was tcompletely impossible for me to miss.” Considering it was happening to him, that is.

“Snape. At your sickbed. For more than a week.” MacMillan’s mind was blown.

“He absolutely does not have a soft gooey center, it’s spikes all the way down, but the spikes are all pointed outward. If you’re brave or lucky enough to make it inside, the spikes will protect you too,” Harry said. “He would have been at Potter’s sickbed too, if he could manage it,” Malfoy said. “Professor Snape would know first hand what went on, so we might be able to ask him. My Father told me what he knows about it, of course, but Professor Snape wasn’t around for tea. Mother has him over once a month, usually, so she was quite worried. We get the French papers, of course, though I didn’t believe half of what I read. Potter’s always being so dramatic.” “Pot meet kettle, Malfoy,” MacMillan said. Harry bit his lip to stay silent. He wasn’t supposed to know anyone. “Where’s your trunk? Professor Snape packed it for you, right?” Stems asked. “He did back on the fifth of August, yeah. Didn’t miss a thing, and I’d pay good money for a picture of my aunt’s face when he laid into her about it,” Harry said. “The trunk has some really nice anti-theft spells, but it’s still, you know, everything.” “Let’s get it. You can stay in one of our compartments,” Stems said, standing up. “Assuming you are sorted Slytherin, is there anything we’ll need to know? Things that might set you off that we should try and avoid?” “Master Snape reconfigured the class schedule to be less explosive. Beyond that, I think I’m good,” Harry said. “No more Longbottom in our class?” Parkinson said. “Thank Merlin for that.” “It’ll be Gryffindors with Ravenclaws and Slytherin with Hufflepuffs,” Harry said, nodding. “Sounds like I dodged a hex,” MacMillan said. “Longbottom really is that bad,” Malfoy said. “It was always a bit fun watching him implode, though it ruined my shoes more than once when he was sitting near me.” Harry felt the privacy spell pop around them. “Master Snape says the Ravenclaws who want to experiment too confidently should be humbled by class with the Gryffindors, Gryffindors need someone to match Granger’s energy to make some slackers more obviously behind, and the Slytherins could do with seeing what consistent hard work looks like when it’s at home,” Harry said. “Ha!” MacMillan laughed. “Sounds like Professor Snape’s favorite fifth-years aren’t his own.” “I was just taking a breath. Fifth-year Hufflepuff needs to see Slytherin creativity and not plod along in mediocrity by doing everything by the book,” Harry finished. “It should be a better mix all the way around, so both fifth-year potion labs should be less likely to go bang or fizzle.”

[happyinjection]

♠️♥️High Card Short Story 4 “The Hectic Daily Life of Wendy Sato” (2/3)♦️♣️

Stopping at a ramen shop for lunch, Wendy came across the familiar faces of Finn and Chris.

Original: https://twitter.com/highcard_pj/status/1537269060185993218

Author: https://twitter.com/poipheno

Artist: https://twitter.com/ebimoji3

Vijay’s chai seemed to permeate into every pore of my being, I felt so much more energized after I drank it.

As I was the office manager, naturally the morning is the busiest time for me given that the number of customers peaked in the afternoon. I made some progress, but when I glanced at the clock, it was almost noon before I knew it.

“Wendy, go take a lunch break.”

Leo said as he kept his eyes on his laptop.

“Eh...... I still have work to do, though.”

“You always say that and end up missing lunch. I’ve already said you can go. Aren’t you supposed to do as your boss says?”

“No, but..... ah, Leo. In the afternoon I must attend the usual appointment with the president, and then tomorrow there’s also a meeting with the manager of head office—”

Leo waved his hand lightly without bothering to look over, shooing me away.

“Fine, fine, I got it. I’m going now.”

♠️♥️♦️♣️

It had been a while since the last time I went out for lunch at this hour. Most of the time, I skipped it altogether due to not having much time to spare, or simply bought whatever I could get my hands on at the store.

That’s why today I picked a place which I’ve been interested in for some time. I took a seat near the counter. However.

“..........ugh.”

“Oh, Wendy. It’s rare to see you having lunch out.”

“Heh, it’s you again. So you're craving for ramen too, huh—”

The place I entered was a popular ramen shop. In the afternoon, it was usually bustling with customers that people had to line up, and thus since I felt uncomfortable eating by myself, I thought it was the perfect time to try it out, but...

“Finn said he’d never had ramen before, so I brought him along.”

“Yeah, I’m hella pumped!”

I rested my elbow on the table, sighing.

“Of all people, why must it be you two who caught me...”

“Huh? What’s wrong with getting caught eating ramen?’

Finn looked confused, but Chris quickly cut in.

“Finn, you idiot. At her core, even Wendy possesses the heart of a lady.”

“What a roundabout way of putting it.”

“Finn. One remark such as that could spell your own demise. Those words may as well be the last message of your soon-to-be-dead senior, so make sure to never forget them.”

“Can you please stop pinning me as a dangerous guy in front of Finn?”

Suddenly Finn made a face as if he just remembered something. “Oh, right, I wanted to ask you, Wendy.”

“..........What is it?”

“Uhhh. You see, about that dish you like so much. Ehh~ What do you call it? Chris, that thing, y’know. That,”

“Oh, that. It’s that thing, ain’t it, that.”

“Yeah, exactly that! So what is it called? That thing?”

“What is it again. Let me think. That thingy? Thingy-thing?”

“Damn you, stop playing! You know exactly what I meant! The thing!”

“Just what are you guys on. Are you talking about takoyaki?”

“That’s it! Tako-yaki! I want to try it too!”

“Wendy’s got a takoyaki maker at her place, let me tell ya—”

“Do you usually eat takoyaki at home?”

“Takoyaki is not something you usually eat alone at home, isn’t it.”

“Don’t make it sound like it’s common sense, how am I supposed to know. You know what, maybe you should bring that takoyaki maker to the office sometime.”

“Ooh~ Sounds like a plan. So there’s gonna be a party. I want to join, can I invite some girls?”

Chris put on a pointless show of fixing his collar.

“Yaaay! It’s a tako-party!”

“Hahaha, don’t get too excited, Finn. Hahaha.”

“Not a chance! We’re going to get everything covered in grease.”

“Told ya there’s no way I could’ve known that. Hey, Chris, let’s pester Leo later. Deep down he’s still a kid, I bet he would become elated at the mention of a party.”

I let out a long sigh.

“The thing is, Leo would never allow such a—”

“Hush, Wendy. I don’t care about what you think. It should be acceptable if it’s the manager himself who wants to throw a party, is it not.”

“Yeah. Wendy’s a samurai, so she would never disobey the whims of her superior.”

“Woah, samurai! Also, harakiri! Bushido! Onigiri! Harasho!”

“You, are you stupid or what. The last one’s clearly wrong.”

Chris and Finn were having a blast on their own.

“I’m guessing you’re going to drag Vijay into this too, aren’t you? He won’t approve of it.”

“Uh-huh! Vijay!?!? Feed him leeks!”

“Exactly, just give him some leeks and he will be happy. Wait. Do takoyaki have leeks in them?”

“Why is Vijay so fond of leeks, anyway?”

Just then, our ramen orders were brought in and placed in front of us. Bundles of noodles steeped in transparent golden broth, with garnish arranged neatly on top.

“Woow~ looks tasty! Itadakimasu!”

My hunger had got to the point where it became unbearable, so I immediately put my hands together.

“What’s that, some sort of ritual?”

Once again, Finn had a confused look on his face.

“Back at home, we often say ‘itadakimasu’ and ‘gochisousama’.”

“I see. Then I’ll do it too. Itadakimasu!”

Finn put his hands together as well while still holding his chopsticks.

“Eat your heart out, Finn! Today’s meal is a treat from your senior Wendy! Grab some more eggs!”

“When did I ever say that!”

“Ya....hooo......”

Finn brought the noodles to his mouth in one awkward movement using his chopsticks. And then, after a moment’s pause,

“So good!”

He flashed me a boyish grin. Following that, it occurred to me.

“Hang on, Finn. You’re not holding your chopsticks right.”

“Huh? So what, does it even matter.”

As he fiddled with his chopsticks, Chris commented,

“I can’t believe there are still people who can’t use chopsticks nowadays. You can find them at any Asian restaurant, can you not.”

“I rarely eat out. Come to think of it, Lindsey had once made us use chopsticks during mealtime when we were learning about food in different cultures.”

“Doesn’t that mean you’ve used them before?”

“Not really. I fled from home that day. They’re such a hassle and making it difficult to eat.”

“Well, practice makes perfect. You will be able to hold them properly once you’re familiar with them. Here, try holding them like this.”

I grabbed on his wrist and corrected his position. While maintaining the new stance, Finn tried to pick up a mouthful, but the tips of his chopsticks were visibly shaking.

“..........It’s insanely hard to eat like this, though.”

“As long as you practice, you would definitely get used to it. Do your best.”

“There you go, the moves of a master swordsman!”

While Chris took the opportunity to tease me, Finn yelled out his frustration.

“Enough! This is impossible! I’m just gonna use a fork!”

“You’re no longer a kid, Finn. Watch this, my smart, elegant, slightly risky chopsticks wielding technique.”

Chris wildly swung his chopsticks around to all directions with one hand.

“Ooh, cool!”

“Listen, it is no different to driving a car. Move your fingers passionately, like how you would treat a woman.”

“You two have no manners! Come on, the noodles are getting soggy! Eat up then leave!”

“But you took part in our conversation too, right.....”

“J-just as he said, Wendy.”

The moment I shot them a glare, both of them shrugged in unison and went quiet, then began slurping on their ramen.

Once we had finished our ramen, the three of us drank tea before returning to the branch office. I let Chris pay for our bills.

♠️♥️♦️♣️

TL notes: I’m in no way a professional translator so if you find any mistakes, please do not hesitate to inform me right away. I love the High Card gang and I found it very unfortunate that while it is meant to be a multimedia project, I can’t seem to find the translated versions of any materials (beside the anime) anywhere (if this is against copyright, I will take it down). Hopefully this small TL would help international viewers gain better understanding of HC universe and characters. The author of these SS himself said that he hoped fans would have their “so that’s what it is!” moments when they watch the anime after reading his short stories. So with that in mind, let’s enjoy High Card together~

[skylarmoon71]

Rapheal (TMNT 2014/2016) - Chapter 4

A part of you dreaded this day.

“I know Leo is going to be exhausted after the shift, so I figured I’d lighten the load.”

April is rambling about something or the other. You don’t truly register it.

“I can tell that you have other things on your mind.” April chuckles. You wonder how she even knows, but the coffee now spilling on the counter is enough evidence. You curse, moving the cup over the sink as you hastily clean up the mess on your counter.

April watches with a little grin.

“Does this have anything to do with a certain ninja?”

You scoff, trying to play it off, but she sees right through you. You have no choice but to confess.

“I-I want to celebrate with him, but Raph doesn’t seem like the type.”

April looks very excited.

“Are you kidding me, he’s dying to spend Valentine’s with you.”

“Really!”

“Definitely. I have a very valuable source that told me he’s even gonna get something mushy.”

You squint.

“Valuable source eh?”

“Yep, can’t say who. Just make sure you up the ante. Make it as romantic as possible. Trust me, Raph’s a big old teddy bear.”

You can’t help but feel hopeful.

“Okay, I’ll do my best.”

What’s the worst that could happen?

~Later That Day~

“Crap.”

Raph had dealt with a lot, but this just wasn’t his day. After his patrol, some thugs thought it would be a good idea to mug an old lady. While he’d managed to subdue them, his gift had taken a hit. The bear he bought had its arm practically ripped out. The box of chocolates carried a very prominent dent. He placed the battered items on the roof with a frown.

He felt like shit showing up without a gift that he’d already had his mind set on giving you. But it felt almost disrespectful to give those poorly presented items. He just turned his back, heading for the fire escape. As he slid down the metal, he could hear your humming from the other side of the window. With a knock, he waited for the window to open.

“Raph.”

Your voice was steady, and you looked so excited. It was like a gut punch. He climbed through, trying his best not to look at you. When he straightened, he could see you looking past him. You seemed a bit distracted. When you finally looked at him, you gave a nervous smile. You were fidgeting, and when he took in the way the room was set up, it made sense.

The lights were dim, a few candles around the room. Your television was set up and he caught the scent of pizza, along with some drinks on the table. There were a few fancy glasses he’d often hear April threaten them about whenever they visited her apartment. From her tone he could only assume they were expensive. Used for special occasions.

The longer he stood there the clearer it seemed to become that this was meant to be a romantic valentine’s day date night.

And he’d show up empty handed.

You were shifting on your feet.

“I…”

You weren’t sure what to say. Raph has a frown on his face. He looked upset, and it made you second guess everything you’d done. When April insisted that Raph was interested in celebrating Valentine’s Day, you were ecstatic.

A bit in disbelief, but happy nonetheless. Since you’d made the declaration not much had changed. He was still the same hot-tempered male you’d met. But he was possibly just a bit sweet around you. Raph was not someone who showed affection easily, and you understood that. That’s why it felt a bit awkward. Because maybe April had read the entire situation wrong and he absolutely hated the holiday.

“Raph I’m sorry.” You finally forced out. You deflated.

“I-I shouldn’t have just assumed that you would be fine with this. I should have asked if you were comfortable. A-April said that you were happy to celebrate that you would even pick out a gift so I got this all together and even bought you-” You stop yourself before anything else is said. You shift back, and he catches the way you seem to gently nudge something with your feet behind the couch.

“Just forget I said anything.” You mutter.

There didn’t seem to be a way to salvage this. When Raph huffed and went right back out the window, you were certain that you’d thoroughly messed up.

“Damn it! Stupid, stupid! Why would you not ask him! This is Raph!”

You began going on a rant in your head, just in time to hear Raph’s feet land again on the fire escape. When he crawled back through the window, you didn’t expect the items you saw in his hand. He still looked a bit agitated.

“I got this for ya. But a bunch of idiots robbed a lady and things got out of hand.”

The teddy bear’s arm was almost completely severed, and the dented box was hard to miss.

“Figured you deserved better than some beaten gifts.”

You could see how annoyed he was at the fact that the gifts were tattered, but for some reason, you couldn’t be happier.

He had every intention of coming over and celebrating. You were so worried you had crossed a line, or pushed too quickly. But he was just a little embarrassed that his perfectly planned gifts had been ruined.

Raph placed them on your table, looking away.

“It’s fine if you wanna throw them out. They aint much to look at.”

You couldn’t stop yourself. You moved forward, wrapping your arms around him.

Raph obviously didn’t expect that response. You buried your face into his chest laughing at how easily you’d gotten into your own head.

“Thank you Raph!!”

He was completely and utterly confused. When you finally pulled away, he could see the light blush dusted on your cheeks.

“Ya aint mad that you stuff got trashed? I thought chicks liked that kinda thing?”

Truth is you could care less if he bought you something. The simple fact that he intended to spend the day with you was enough.

“I just wanted to spend time with you Raph. When you got here looking angry I guess I just thought that April forced you into something that you didn’t want to do.”

The ironic part of this is that he’d gone to April for help in picking something you would like.

Looks like the both of you were just fools in love.

~

When the air was clear, you both sat down watching a movie. Action of course. The second he saw Vin Diesel he was hooked. So as the scenes of bloodshot ran across the screen, you took your time studying him. All those talks you’d had with Raph, you weren’t sure how you had missed this. The both of you were still trying to figure out what this was. You were grateful in a sense that nothing had changed drastically.

With Raph it felt sort of…natural.

It’s possible that you’d been staring too long, because he looked in your direction, and you straightened, averting your eyes from his form to focus on the screen as you cleared your throat.

“D-Do you want some more pizza? I’ll get it for you!”

You had every intention of making a sprint to the kitchen so you can gather your wits. Raph stopped you, taking your hand softly.

“Why do ya keep staring at me, it’s creepy.”

“I-I wasn’t staring!!” You defend. He just gives you a blank look.

“I’m a ninja, remember.”

Sometimes you wish you could forget, if nothing but to avoid hearing him mention it ever so often. He released his hold, and you play with the string on your shorts.

“I guess it’s just nice to see you smiling for a change. You’re always wearing that perpetual frown. “

“I don’t frown.”

“You’re doing it right now!”

“That’s just the way my face is!”

You can’t help it, you release a giggle, and Raph grumbles under his breath.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up.”

You do your best to stifle them. Because even his little angry face is kind of cute.

“I guess there are some adorable sides to you Raph.”

“I aint adorable!” He continued to protest, but your little gift bear said otherwise.

“Raph, really, thank you for tonight. I like this. Being here with you.”

There’s no longer teasing in your tone. Just a smile on your face. Raph curses internally. A part of him feels like he doesn’t deserve this. His pride had almost jeopardized a great night. He lowers his head.

“Sorry about earlier.”

“Raph you don’t have to keep apologizing I understand.”

He gets why you would say that. As much as he’s enjoyed the night, there’s something that has been eating at him.

“Did ya mean it when you said you wanted a chance.”

You’re a bit puzzled, but when his eyes turn on you, it seems to clear up everything.

“Loving me ain’t gonna be easy. I’ll probably keep making dumb mistakes.” He scratches his head a bit.

The mere fact that he feels the need to inform you of this shows maturity. As boneheaded as he acts sometimes, he knows his flaws. No one is perfect. Certainly not you.

“I don’t think it was a mistake.” His hand lowers.

“Raph, you tried to hide the gift because you care. You cared about my feelings and you wanted to show that with a beautiful present. You were willing to come here empty handed because you thought I deserved better. "

From the look on his face, it’s like you’ve read his mind.

“Don’t go reading into that.” He mumbles.

There is that tough guy act again. He’s too much.

“Must be hard carrying around all that ego on the back of your shell.”

You playfully tease, nudging his shoulder.

Life with Raph would no doubt be the best thing you’ve ever experienced.

[vosh-rakh]

madstone: chapter 1

- previous part -

Yakin finished today’s shortened tutelage by handing Kassur a small book. “Here,” he said. “This will be the rest of your lesson. Study it at home, or on the way to Sadrith Mora.”

Kassur took the tome, squinting to read the Daedric script on the cover. “The…Four…”

“Suitors,” translated Yakin.

“...of…” Kassur squinted harder. “What’s this last word?”

“Benitah,” Yakin explained. “It’s a name.”

“What’s this book about?”

Yakin smiled. “What the title says. Keep an eye out for me. I’m in this book.”

Kassur scrunched up his face. “Are you seeking this Benitah’s hand?”

“No. Just read it.”

“Yes, kena,” said Kassur. Yakin seemed a bit too proud to feature in a work of fiction, Kassur thought. He stood to ready himself to leave.

“And Kassur?” Yakin called.

“Yes, kena?”

“Wear some shoes next time, please.”

Kassur suppressed a frown and nodded solemnly. If he insists.

After leaving, it was almost seven o’clock, the sun still struggling to rise. Kassur left the walled portion of Vos and headed for the docks. 

He was admittedly worried about this trip. Not just because of his purpose, either - he’d also never been on a boat before. The Ahemmusa usually fished from the shores, or from water-walking spells provided by the wise women. He was uncertain as to how his stomach would hold up.

He walked past Varo’s Tradehouse - where he’d bought his House mer clothes by bartering ashyams - and came upon the shipmaster. She was a simply dressed woman, but with an elaborate bun tying up her hair. She was busy picking at her fingernails.

“Hello,” Kassur said in Dunmeris. 

Without looking up, the shipmaster said, “Yes? What can I do for you?”

“I would like to travel to…Saddith Mora,” Kassur said, trying to remember what Yakin had told him the name was.

The shipmaster finally looked up. “Sadrith Mora,” she said, then asked, “You’re that new ashlander, aren’t you?”

Kassur wasn’t sure how to respond, so he just nodded. Was it that obvious? He’d worn the right clothes, and he didn’t think his accent was that bad. Maybe Yakin was right to insist he wore shoes; maybe that tipped her off. Not discouraged, however, he tried again. “Can you take me to Sadrith Mora?”

“Yes,” the woman said, expressionless. “For a price. Fifty drakes.”

Kassur frowned. That was much more than he’d expected the fare to be. He pulled out his makeshift coinpurse and started counting out septims. He only found eighty-two. How was he going to get back to Vos?

No matter. He needed to go to Sadrith Mora. He’d figure out a way back somehow. He handed over fifty coins to the shipmaster.

Finally she smiled. “Very good,” she said. “The name’s Sedyni Veran. I’ll be your captain for this voyage.” She chuckled at herself. “What’s your name, ashlander?”

“Kassur,” he said, blushing.

“Just Kassur?” Sedyni asked as she put the coins away in a nearby lockbox. 

“Just Kassur,” he affirmed. He’d once had a family name, but he didn’t want anything to do with it anymore.

“Very well. Climb aboard, ‘Just Kassur.’” She hopped onto the ship from the dock, and beckoned him to follow.

Nervously, Kassur took a tentative step onto the boat. Immediately he could feel the wobble of the water, and being half on land and half at sea made him feel ill at ease. He quickly put his other foot forward, planting them both firmly on the deck. He took another step forward toward the mast, but almost tripped as the boat lurched casually, doubling over to catch himself.

“No sea legs, eh?” Sedyni asked as she began to tend to the rigging. “You’ll get used to it. Just head below deck and have a seat. Try not to throw up on my ship.”

- - - - -

The voyage was miserable and exciting all at once. Kassur refused to head below deck, so that he could see the world around him as they passed it by. They sailed between the Grazelands and some islands, past Tel Mora first. He’d heard of the place - it was a place of only women. He liked the idea. 

Next they passed an evil looking place on the following island. It reminded him of the ruins of Kushtashpi, west of the old Ahemmusa camp. He asked Sedyni about it.

“They call it Esutanamus,” she answered. “They say Molag Bal is worshiped there, Vivec curse his name.”

After Esutanamus, on the west coast this time, they spotted a great fortress. Sedyni, expecting Kassur’s curiosity, explained. “That’s Indoranyon. Old Dunmeri stronghold from the days of Resdayn. You know, when Nerevar led your people and mine together against the Nords and Dwemer.” She sighed. “In better days, at least. Now it’s home to Daedra worshipers. Bad Daedra, that is,” she corrected quickly.

After Indoranyon, they headed southeast away from the mainland of Vvardenfell, passing through some small islands. “We’re almost there,” Sedyni said. 

Thank Boethiah, thought Kassur. He stood from where he had sat, head against the mast, and leaned against the railing. He could see the mushroom towers now, standing tall over the rocks.

Finally they arrived at the docks, which were made of fungal roots, rather than wood, like the one at Vos. Sedyni handed Kassur off to the local shipmaster, who she introduced as Gals Arethi.

“Go easy on him,” she whispered to Gals, but Kassur could still hear. “He’s some sort of exile, I think. Not used to the world.” Gals nodded, but his face frightened Kassur. He looked so stern and irascible.

“New to Sadrith Mora?” Gals asked, speaking the kind of quick Dunmeris Kassur hated. “What would you like to know?” He had to repeat himself several times before Kassur could make out what he was asking. 

“Wolf…a ring, hall, please,” Kassur murmured, unsure of the words. They were Cyrodiilic, and he knew no Cyrodiilic.

“Sorry?” Gals asked. “Speak up, boy.”

“Wolf-a-ring-hall,” Kassur said, speaking quickly to hide his lack of confidence.

“Wolverine Hall, you mean?” Gals pointed southeast. “Opposite side of town. Good luck.”

Kassur wondered what Gals meant by “good luck,” but didn’t ask. He walked on the spongy fungal floor until he reached real solid ground. Oh, he could just fall down and kiss it! But he decided it wouldn’t raise Gals’ already poor estimation of him, so didn’t. 

Kassur approached the giant round gate of Sadrith Mora, the coarse stone beneath him rough on his bare feet. He made to go through the gate, but two armored guards with squid-like helmets crossed their spears before it. 

“Papers?” one of them asked, his coarse Vvardenfell accent coarser than most’s. 

Kassur shook his head. Papers? What did he mean by that?

“No entry,” the other guard said. “Or go see the Prefect upstairs.”

“Okay,” said Kassur. He stepped back from the gate and looked up. There were two arms of spiraling stairs reaching a door at the top, directly above the gate. The entire structure was one enormous mushroom. Kassur ascended the left side and opened the door. 

Inside a mer sat at a desk to the right; to the left was another spiral staircase up. The Dunmer didn’t look up from whatever he was doing. “Yes?”

Kassur cleared his throat and asked, “Papers?”

The seated Dunmer looked up, a wicked smile on his face. “Ah, so you’ve come to the Prefect of Hospitality for your Hospitality Papers, eh?”

Kassur scratched the back of his neck. “Yes.”

“Well, you’re in luck,” the Prefect said. He lifted a sheet of paper from his desk. “I just finished making this copy.” He extended an empty hand towards Kassur. Kassur just stared at it. “It’s not free, you know,” the Prefect said. “Twenty-five septims.”

Kassur frowned and rubbed his forehead. “Need to go back home, too,” he said. 

“Well, you should have planned ahead,” the Prefect tutted. “Have you the gold?”

Kassur reluctantly took out his coinpurse and counted out twenty-five coins. He only had seven left - not enough to make it back to Vos, for sure. 

He dropped the coins in the Prefect’s waiting hand, which quickly closed around them. The Prefect made a show of counting them out, then put them in the pocket of his robes. He handed Kassur the Hospitality Papers, which Kassur couldn’t really read. “There you go, young man. Enjoy your stay in Sadrith Mora.”

Kassur grunted and went back outside, descended the stairs, and approached the gate again. He held up his newly-acquired papers for the guards. One of them bent forward a bit to loosely examine it, but not for very long. 

“Looks good to me,” he grunted. The two guards uncrossed their spears and began to open the strange circular gate. It was hinged in the middle, spinning on a central axis. Kassur walked through it on the left side, squeezing past the guard who refused to budge from his post. 

Yakin had told Kassur about Sadrith Mora before, the capital of Telvanni power on the island. It was, as its name suggested, a forest of mushrooms. As far as Kassur could tell, there wasn’t a single normal building here; they were all made of giant mushrooms. 

It wasn’t midday yet; Kassur had about an hour to kill. He’d planned it out this way - he wanted to roam the circular streets of Sadrith Mora and take in the city before his lunchtime appointment. 

After he was free of the structure containing the gate, he was face to face with an enormous mushroom tower, climbing high above the city in its center. Its bulbs and horns and stalks were interwoven into a complex building - which seemed to lack stairs entirely. Were they inside? How did you get to the top?

After his awe at the massive building subsided, he hung a left and began to circumnavigate it. The first thing of note he found was a covered marketplace, with several merchant stalls serving a sizable crowd of people. Kassur had to avert his gaze from the items on display; he didn’t have any money to buy anything, so why get excited?

Adjoining the marketplace was a raised trio of fungal pod-cages. In his best Dunmeris Kassur asked a nearby guard about them. 

“Old slave market,” the gravelly voice behind the helmet said. “Closed down about a month ago by the new Archmagister.”

A slave market, Kassur thought. Ahemmusa hadn’t kept slaves for generations. The concept of it made him feel sick. He was glad for the Archmagister’s decision, whoever they were. 

He was pulled from his thoughts by some shouting in the market. He saw a Dunmer arguing with one of the merchants, who was short and brown-skinned. Kassur wasn’t sure what kind of mer he was. The argument was in Cyrodiilic, so Kassur couldn’t tell what it was over. 

Suddenly, the Dunmer reached up to hit the smaller mer. But someone from behind caught his arm. 

In elaborate robes and with a massive metal gauntlet on one hand was the first Argonian Kassur had ever seen. They were tall and lean, their nearly golden scales glistening in the morning sun, save for a black mark on their throat. In their offhand they leaned on a fully metal spear with more spikes than Kassur had ever seen. Something about them, perhaps just the alien nature of their race, struck Kassur, gluing his feet to the spot, and his eyes on them. 

Kassur couldn’t make out whatever the Argonian said to the Dunmer - it was in Cyrodiilic again, no doubt - but whatever was said, the situation was resolved. The Dunmer seemed to apologize to the Argonian and to the smaller mer before heading towards the giant central tower of the city. Kassur’s eyes followed the Argonian and their two Dunmer companions as they left the city. 

Kassur stood there, lost in some kind of awe before a guard bumped into him, tearing him from it. He scurried along around the city. 

On his left he came across a tall building. It wasn’t tall like that central tower - this one was built on fungal stilts, with a long spiral staircase rising up to meet it. It gave Kassur a dark feeling, so he hurried past it. 

Kassur circled around the back of the great central tower. There weren’t any homes in this eastern half of the city - just a street between the tower’s ditch on the right and a large hill closing in on the left. He carried on southwards, a mostly straight-shot to Wolverine Hall.

The fort was enormous. It was made in the same style of hewn stone as the lower half of Tel Vos, but without all the fungal growths piercing through it. Kassur passed by a strange wooden building on his left and crossed the bridge into the fort proper.

This was about as far as he could manage on his own. He knew he was looking for the Mage’s Guild, and that was it. Inside the fort was all the same grey stone walls, large courtyards with no doors in sight. Kassur slowly started to feel his way through them.

Rounding a corner to the left he found another courtyard, with a stone staircase to his right, and a fire surrounded by a couple of Imperial guards to his left. One of the guards squatted near the fire, tending to a pot hanging over it, while the other worked a sword on an anvil, periodically checking its straightness. Kassur tentatively approached, and asked in Dunmeris, “Where is Mage’s Guild?”

The guard tending the pot looked up at Kassur, then glanced at his companion. “Dunmeris,” the squatting guard said. The anvil guard nodded and approached Kassur, sword in hand. Kassur took a step back, intimidated. But the guard smiled and said, in Dunmeris more broken than Kassur’s, “Up stairs. Through chapel. Up stairs. First door.”

Kassur nodded slowly, and said, “Thank you.” He backed away and then turned to hurry up the steps. At the top he finally found a door, and went inside.

Inside stood a man bent over a table laden with alchemical ingredients and apparatus. He turned, mortar and pestle in hand, and smiled at Kassur. “Greetings,” he said in suitable Dunmeris. “How may I help you?”

“Mage’s Guild?” Kassur asked, pulling the collar of his shirt from his neck anxiously.

“Ah,” said the man, frowning as he pointed at a nearby door. “Go into the stairwell there and head upstairs. Should be the first door you come across.”

“Thank you,” Kassur said. These directions made more sense to him. He waved farewell as he went through the indicated door. He went upstairs and into the next room.

It was a relatively small room, but full with people - Kassur guessed eight. There were men, tall golden-skinned mer, a couple of Dunmer, and even an Argonian, which excited him again for some reason. 

But it was the Dunmer woman behind the desk in the back that Kassur had come to see. He quietly asked a nearby woman in Dunmeris if he could speak with her. She didn’t seem to understand. Exasperated and embarrassed, Kassur simply called out, “Minabibi!”

The entire room, which had been abuzz with quiet conversation, fell silent, and everyone looked at Kassur.

The woman behind the desk looked up at the newcomer in horror. She tilted her head at first, then frowned, nearly knocking a candlestick off the desk as she swept around it. “Kassur!” she whispered in Velothi. “Please. No shouting in the Guild. This isn’t the Fighter’s Guild.”

Kassur apologized, and raised an eyebrow. “There’s a Fighter’s Guild too?”

“These Imperials and House mer have many Guilds,” Minabibi said, shaking her head. She grabbed Kassur by the arm and turned towards the Argonian, saying something to him in Cyrodiilic. He smiled and nodded, waving the two of them away. Then Minabibi led Kassur out of the room, back down the stairs and outside. 

“Who is he?” Kassur asked. He was relieved to be able to speak Velothi again.

“Skink?” Minabibi asked. “He’s the head of the chapter here. He’s the one who invited me to study at the Guild. Although sometimes I think he intends to study me more than the other way around.” She led Kassur out of the fort and to the strange wooden building Kassur had passed before. “Let’s grab lunch,” she said, taking Kassur inside.

The door opened onto a hallway, but Minabibi quickly turned left and took Kassur up the stairs. At the top was a massive woman, tall and well-built.

“Hello, Helende,” Minabibi said. The woman grunted but smiled. Kassur kept close to Minabibi as they passed by her.

To the right at the end of another hall was a bar. The bartender smiled widely and said, in Dunmeris, “Mina! The usual, today?” She glanced at Kassur. “For two, maybe?”

“No, Muriel,” Minabibi said, smiling back. “We’ll split a racer egg and a bottle of shein.”

“You’re lucky,” Muriel said as she reached under the counter and prepared to cook. “I was saving this last egg for somebody else. But I think I can make an exception for you two. He won’t be happy, though.” She made some kind of rude gesture. “But fetch ‘im! He can deal with it.”

“Thank you,” Minabibi said. She took a seat at a table in the corner, and Kassur followed suit. “What’s brought you here, Kassur?” she asked as she poured shein into Kassur’s cup. 

“I’m not with the tribe anymore,” said Kassur.

“Ah,” Minabibi said. “Well, I’m not really either. I haven’t spoken with anyone from home in months. You’re the first in that much time.”

“There’s a reason,” Kassur said.

“Oh?” She leaned forward after filling her own cup. 

“They’ve all gone mad.”

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Minabibi said before taking a long draught from her cup.

“No,” Kassur said. “You don’t understand. They’re lost to Sheogorath.”

“Lower your damn voice,” Minabibi said, looking around. “But explain. Quietly.”

“You know how the Nerevarine cleared out the old shrine?”

“Yes, I heard about that. That was after I left, though.”

“Well, a few weeks afterwards everybody moved there permanently.” Kassur slowly took a sip of his cup, but twisted his face at the taste. “Tastes like guarpiss,” he said - quietly, this time.

“Yeah,” Minabibi agreed. “But why would they fall to Sheogorath? They have the Madstone.”

“Some s’wit gave it to the Nerevarine as a ‘token,’ or something.”

Minabibi nearly spat out her drink. “They moved into the shrine without the Madstone?”

“I don’t know who made the decision. Sinnammu, maybe. Or maybe Urshamusa had a vision - sent by Sheogorath, no doubt.”

“Well,” Minabibi said. “There’s no saving them, then.”

“Of course there is!” Kassur said, raising his voice. “There must be!”

“Sheogorath is a tricky Prince. Hard to come back from madness.”

“But it must be possible!” Kassur nearly shouted. He lowered his voice, looking down. “It must be.” He looked back up and planted an angry, shaking finger on the table. “I left them behind. I cobbled together Imperial coin for this trip, to come see you, to get help. And all you can say is ‘There’s no saving them’?”

“You’d need a lot more help than I can give, Kassur.” She sighed. “Even the Guild likely couldn’t do it.” She shook her head. “Assuming they’d even want to.”

“Oh,” Kassur said. “So they get their wise woman and now they’re happy to let the rest kill each other?”

“It’s…it’s not all bad,” Minabibi said after a pause. “It’s better, living this way, I think. They couldn’t accept it. So maybe…”

“So you think it’s okay, too,” Kassur said. “They don’t deserve to live, because they live differently.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Minabibi said.

“Weren’t you, though?”

“One racer egg, coming up!” Muriel approached the table and placed a platter down with a massive yellowish hard-boiled egg on it, drizzled with some dark sauce. 

“She’ll eat it herself,” Kassur said. He stood and left the cornerclub.

[chobit92]

Far Cry 5: Reunited: Part Two

(Mara sits at the kitchen counter and sends a text to Rachel. She doesn’t get a reply and she sighs. She looks out of the window, it’s beginning to get dark now. Joseph and John have been gone for over four hours. She figures that they are catching up with Jacob and probably getting drunk together. She sighs. There is a knock at the door. She walks through the lounge and opens the front door. Joseph and John are stood there but she doesn’t see Jacob.).

Mara: Didn’t find him then?

Joseph: No.

John: We checked the local store and we went round all the bars. No sign.

(Mara sighs.).

Mara: Damnit Jake.

Joseph: Does he often do this?

Mara: Do what?

Joseph: Disappear?

Mara: He has done a few times. Not for a while though. Not for this long. He’s usually at the bar.

John: Well he isn’t.

Mara: Well maybe he’s taken off somewhere else. Have you checked the woods?

John: The woods?

Mara: Yeah. I found him in there once.

(John frowns.).

John: Why don’t you just call him and ask him where he is?

Mara: He doesn’t have a phone.

John: Of course not.

Mara: I bought him one but he never uses it. He’s not a fan of technology. He’ll come back.

John: You don’t sound too sure.

(She shrugs.).

Mara: Where are you staying?

John: No idea. We’ve driven out here from Atlanta.

Mara: Atlanta?

John: Yes. It’s where I’ve been living.

(Mara is looking down the road hoping to catch a glimpse of Jacob’s truck but the road is empty.).

Mara: Where’s your car then?

John: Just back there.

Mara: Hm.

(She sighs.).

Mara: You want to come in for a coffee?

John: I thought you’d never ask.

Mara: You can go sit in your car if you want.

Joseph: Coffee would be good thank you.

(Mara steps back and they go inside. She shuts the door behind them and goes to the kitchen.).

Mara: I’m sure he’ll be back soon.

(Joseph and John have stopped dead. Sat on the floor in the lounge playing with some cars is a small boy with red hair. The boy looks up at them as they walk in then goes back to playing with his cars.).

Mara: How do you take it?

John: Three sugars no milk.

Joseph: No sugar and just a little milk please.

(She makes the drinks and sets them down on the counter before sitting down. Joseph and John join her and sit staring at her. Joseph keeps looking at the little boy sat on the carpet in the next room. Mara looks at the clock.).

Mara: It’s getting late. I thought he’d be back by now.

(It’s nearing 9pm.).

John: Aren’t you going to put the little one to bed?

(She narrows her eyes again.).

Mara: No. Why, think it’s too late for him to be up? I’m sick of people commenting on my parenting like it’s anything to do with them.

John: I wasn’t.

Mara: Good.

John: Why are you so defensive?

Mara: I’m not. I’m just sick of people butting their noses in. Already had the neighbours sending child services round.

John: Really?

Mara: Bunch of no good busy bodies.

(She takes a sip of her coffee.).

Mara: He’s gotta have his bath first. He won’t want to go to bed anyway. Not until his dads home. I think he worries about him. They pick up on things kids.

Joseph: How old is he?

Mara: Three.

Joseph: What’s his name?

Mara: Gabriel.

Joseph: Gabriel.

John: He looks just like him.

Mara: Yeah.

(The landline suddenly rings and Mara gets up and answers it.).

Mara: Yes? What?

(Joseph turns to John.).

John: What? I didn’t mean anything by it.

Joseph: This is Jacob’s family. We must not judge them brother.

John: I wasn’t.

Mara: He did what? Godsake. Yeah well you can bet your ass that prick started it! Oh I will don’t worry. You stupid pricks you know he’s had problems. How am I meant to do that? Oh you must really love your job eh? Locking people up for defending themselves. Just because you don’t like them! Yes I will. Have you arrested Lonny have you? The drunk lout! He’s always making trouble but I guess you can get away with anything when your father is friends with the mayor eh? You just blame it on my husband instead!

(She hangs up and sighs. Gabriel is staring into the kitchen. Joseph smiles at him but the boy doesn’t smile back.).

John: Who was that?

(She sits back down at the counter.).

Mara: The police. Jacob’s been arrested.

John: Arrested?

Mara: Yes.

(Joseph looks at Gabriel, he is still sat there just staring into the kitchen.).

Joseph: What have they arrested him for?

Mara: Assault. It’s bullshit. Jacob doesn’t start fights. He usually ends them don’t get me wrong. He was probably just sat having a quiet drink on his own and that prick Lonny started on him. He’s done it before. He’s the thug.

John: Well don’t worry. I’m a lawyer.

Mara: Oh you are?

John: Yes. We’ll have him out in no time.

Mara: It was just a drunken bar fight. He’ll be back by tomorrow. They didn’t charge him last time.

Joseph: This has happened before?

Mara: Yes. It’s always Lonny that starts it. He even came up to the house once. Yelling that Jacob was a psycho. Ha! If only they knew.

John: What does that mean?

Mara: He served in the army. He saw many things. I don’t even think he’s told me everything. How can he? They just don’t understand the horrors he’s had to face. For his country, for them. Some people just have no respect. It all started at their fourth of July party. The fireworks they set him off. The bangs you know? He started yelling and he ran into the woods. I found him hiding in the bushes. Lonny and his friends all thought it was funny. They started calling him Old Mad Seed.

(Joseph sucks in a breath.).

Mara: Jacob heard them and he went mental. Gave Lonny a split lip. He’s never usually one for violence and he rarely loses his temper so it shocked me. He told me afterwards that everyone used to call his dad that. He hated his father.

Joseph: He wasn’t a very nice man.

Mara: So I’ve heard. Anyway after that one of our neighbours had a party for one of their daughters. This was a year later. Lonny was there with his wife, he’s a bit of a drinker Lonny. He can get nasty when he’s drunk too. There was some altercation between him and another neighbour and Jacob stepped in and broke it up. He told Lonny to go home. I don’t quite know what happened next, I was sat on the patio so I don’t know what was said but Lonny and another neighbour suddenly started punching Jacob calling him a psycho. It turned into a bit of a brawl and other neighbours and their friends had to break it up. I asked them what had happened afterwards and they told me that Jacob was saying things like they should have put Lonny on the barbecue coz he’s just a useless lump of meat anyway. Then he apparently said that he’d eaten human before and it wasn’t half bad.

(John’s mouth has dropped open.).

Mara: So yeah. Now whenever Lonny sees him he just has to start. I’m guessing that’s what happened tonight. Lonny lives at the bar.

John: Okay.

Mara: He didn’t start that fight tonight. He rarely gets drunk and when he does he just sits there quietly then stumbles into bed or falls asleep on the sofa.

Joseph: I believe you.

Mara: I don’t care if you believe me or not.

John: Well I think we should go to the police station.

Joseph: Yes.

John: Do you know where it is they’ve taken him?

Mara: Silver Creek station. It’s just opposite the post office. Back down the road and turn right. Keep heading towards town.

John: Right. You coming?

Mara: I would love to but I need to stay here and get little man sorted. Rachel’s stormed off so...

John: She usually do that?

Mara: Yeah. She’s difficult at the best of times.

John: Is she your daughter?

Mara: You cheeky...How old do you think I fucking am? She’s my sister.

Joseph: She has problems?

Mara: It’s none of your business.

John: Can’t you leave him with a neighbour or a friend?

Mara: Don’t have any. The neighbours all think we’re scum. I wouldn’t leave my son with them anyway and it’s too late to be taking him out now. Besides I wouldn’t want him to see his father in a jail cell. Boy don’t need that shit.

(Mara gets up and puts her mug in the sink. She then goes into the lounge.).

Mara: Come on little man bath time.

(Joseph watches as Gabriel puts down his cars and stands up. Mara lifts him up and carries him back to the kitchen. She opens a drawer and takes out a pen and paper. She writes something down then hands the paper to Joseph.).

Mara: That’s our landline number. Give me a call once you get there would yah? Tell him I’m not mad.

Joseph: We will.

(Joseph and John stand up.).

Mara: I’ll make up the guest bedroom.

Joseph: You don’t have to do that.

Mara: Well you gotta sleep somewhere. Unless you want to get Jacob’s tent and camp out on the lawn.

John: The guest bedroom will be fine thanks.

Joseph: Thank you.

Mara: Don’t expect a happy reunion will you? He’s probably different than the brother you remember.

Joseph: I understand. We are all different now. What matters is that we are back together.

(Mara walks down the hall and Joseph and John leave.).

*

(Joseph and John have been waiting for over twenty minutes.).

John: I can’t believe she didn’t come down here with us. She’s meant to be his wife.

Joseph: John she has a small child. Did you really expect her to drag him down here to a police station at this time of night?

John: Well...Yes. She should have come no matter what. He’s her husband.

(Joseph sighs.).

John: She could have left the kid with a neighbour.

Joseph: The neighbours do not seem to like them. You heard what she said.

John: Hm. I can understand why.

(Joseph shoots John a look.).

John: Oh don’t look at me like that. You’ve met the woman. She’s...I don’t know. A hard faced cow.

Joseph: I have told you already John we must not judge. She has let us into her home when we are complete strangers and from the sounds of it she is letting us stay.

John: Hm.

(John folds his arms then sighs.).

John: I just don’t get her. I mean she could be happier that her husband’s brothers have found him. That he’s found his family. She seems like she couldn’t care less.

Joseph: What did you expect John? How did you want her to react when we suddenly turned up on her doorstep?

John: I don’t know. But...I don’t know.

Joseph: It’s going to take time John. Time. We cannot expect to just waltz into other people’s lives so seamlessly. Even the life of our brother. We must get to know each other again and get to know his family.

John: Hm.

(John sighs.).   

John: Oh this is ridiculous we’ve been waiting nearly half an hour now. Excuse me.

(He walks back up to the desk.).

John: We want to see our brother now.

Woman: I have told the Sheriff you are here.

John: Well why are we still waiting?

Woman: Sir please just take a seat.

(John sighs. Joseph pats his arm. They wait another ten minutes before the Sheriff walks in.).

Sheriff: Evening gentleman I’m told that Jacob Seed is your older brother?

Joseph: Yes. He is. We would like to see him please.

Sheriff: I wasn’t aware he had brothers.

Joseph: We haven’t seen each other in a very long time. We were separated when we were children you see. We’ve been searching for him for many years.

Sheriff: That so?

John: Yes it is so. Now can we see him please?

Sheriff: I’m afraid not.

John: What? Why not?

Sheriff: You can’t just walk in here and expect to see a prisoner. Visiting hours are between three and five pm.

John: He’s our brother, we haven’t seen him in years.

Sheriff: I understand that but-

John: No. You don’t.

Joseph: Please. We have been separated for far too long. We need to see him. If only to reassure ourselves that we have finally found him after years of searching and coming to dead ends.

Woman: Could just give them ten minutes sir. It might do Mr Seed some good. He hasn’t said anything since his arrest.

Sheriff: He’s usually a man of few words.

(The Sheriff sighs.).

John: Come on his wife is worried too. She’s stuck at home with the baby while her husband is sat in here.

Sheriff: I highly doubt Mara is worried. But fine. If you think the best way to reunite with your so called brother is through prison bars that’s up to you.

Joseph: Thank you.

(The Sheriff leads them down the hall to the cells. There are six of them altogether but only one is occupied. Joseph and John stare through the bars at the man sat on the cot. He has a crop of red hair on his head and he is wearing beaten up dirty jeans and a battered old army jacket. Around his neck are a set of dog tags and a rabbits foot. He doesn’t look up as they walk in. The Sheriff bangs on the bars with his baton.).

Sheriff: Hey Seed. You got visitors.

Joseph: Jacob?

(The man slowly turns his head and stares at Joseph and John. He frowns.).

Sheriff: Does he even know you? I ain’t got time for bullshit it’s late.

Joseph: We are his brothers. I’m Joseph and this is John. Seed.

John: Technically I’m John Duncan but-

(John falls silent at the look on Joseph’s face.).

Sheriff: Are these your brothers Seed? They say they been looking for you for years.

(The man is still staring at them.).

John: Is he...I don’t know a little...Mad?

Sheriff: Ha! Been wondering that myself.

(The man ignores the Sheriff and gets up walking over to the bars. Joseph stares at him, the name tab on his army jacket reads J. Seed.).

Jacob: Joe.

[imagines-for-earthbread]

can you do one with almond and latte? just them having a good time together out in the town :)

“Oooh! Almond, look at this one!” The teacher exclaimed in awe at a dress displayed in the window, nail tapped against the glass as she pointed. Today was a rare day; a day where both the detective and the professor had a day off! Latte was particularly excited about this, but honestly Almond would rather be sleeping in a recliner right now rather than being Latte’s personal bag rack for her shopping endeavours. But he can’t lie, being with Latte is always pretty fun even if he thinks what they’re doing is pretty silly.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s… Nice.” He sighed, taking a sip of the espresso Latte had bought for him as compensation. “You think it’d look nice on me?” She asked, glancing back at him.

“Eh.” He shrugs. “I don’t take periwinkle to be your colour.” He said as he took another sip nonchalantly. This warrants a gasp from Latte and for her to turn to face him, laying her hands on her hips and furrowing her brow at the man. “I could DEFINITELY pull off periwinkle!” 

“You willing to spend $500 just to prove me wrong?” Latte pauses, her body turned to look at the price tag, before she promptly crossed her arms over her chest and let out a ‘hmph!’ “‘S what I thought." He said, a triumphant little smirk on his face. "I’m hungry, you wanna get lunch yet?” Latte thought for a moment before she nodded, picking up the bags she’d laid on the ground in front of the window and then reaching over to grab Almond’s hand so she could drag him to the nearest coffee shop.

After ordering and sitting down, Almond let out a sort-of exasperated sigh as he leaned back in his chair, crossing his ankles under the table as he unwrapped the muffin he’d bought for himself and taking a bite. Latte settled down across from him, but sitting on the edge of her seat and leaning in; a complete opposite of how Almond was sat.

She pushed a bag towards him then opened her own snack she’d bought for herself. “Walnut still likes chocolate croissants, right?” Almond looked at the bag she pushed to him, peeked inside and found just that; a chocolate filled croissant. He looked to Latte, cocking a brow. “You remembered?” “Of course I remembered! You underestimate Aunt Latte! Auntte, if you wi-” “Don’t call yourself that. But yeah, she does. Thanks, she’ll like it.” He said as he tossed the croissant into a bag full of stuff both him and Latte had bought for Walnut – but most of it was from Latte. She had a tendency to spoil all of her friends' children when she wasn’t spoiling said friends – which she was at that moment. A good half of those bags were for Almond, just random things he’d happened to comment on or pick up and new clothes, comfortable and formal for the few parties he gets dragged to by Latte.

“Have you ever had one?” Latte asked, head tilted as she waited for his answer. “Uh… No? I don’t care for sweeter stuff–” “Do you want a bite of mine?” The speed of her question had him stutter, but before he could say ‘I’m okay’ she was leaning over the table. “C’mon, you’ll like it! What cop doesn’t like anything sweet once in a while?” She grinned down at the detective, in return getting a sigh. “You know what– Alright. Fine, let me have a bite.” He grumbled. 

Latte moved her croissant to Almond’s lips and her free hand under his chin to catch any crumbs. Of course, this warranted stares from other people in the diner but neither of them seemed to notice, nor exactly care. Latte sat back in her seat after he took his bite, waiting for his answer.

“How was it?”

“...Good, surprisingly.”

“...You want one?”

Almond stared for a moment before he chuckled softly at her eagerness to spend money on him. He smiled, leaning back in his chair again with a small smile at the woman across from him. 

“Yeah, sure.”

[lilac-melody]

Fantasia LOVE&KISS Novel Epilogue

Disclaimer: I’m not a professional translator

Masterlist here

🎤

Aizou left the bathroom and headed for the living room. When he opened the door, he found his brother standing in the kitchen. It was the weekend, but it was unusual to see him there.

(He’s wearing my clothes without permission.)

It was Aizou’s favorite jacket that he’d bought with anticipation.

As he sat on the couch in the living room looking at his phone, he heard a soft clank.

On the table in front of him was a mug. Ken picked up Kuro, who had been rubbing up against him, and put her on his shoulder.

“...Are you coming today?” Aizou asked quietly. 

The tickets for two that he had left on the table the other day were gone when he woke up in the morning.

“Oh, is today the last day of your play? Arisa-chan said she wanted to go, so I might go as well. Maybe,” Ken laughed with an awkward expression on his face.

(It’s a date then...well, that’s fine...)

Aizou stared at his cup quietly. “...You know, one of these days, I’m considering moving out and getting a place of my own...” It was something he’d been thinking about for a long time. He talked to Manager Uchida about it and she’s helping him find an affordable place to live. He didn’t see his brother that often, and they barely even spoke.

So he may as well say it now.

“Hm...sounds good, I guess?” It was the same light tone as usual. Even now, even though they lived in the same house, it was as if they were living separately. So there was no way that he’d be troubled.

“I haven’t decided when, but when I do, can I take Kuro with me?”

Ken stroked Kuro’s head gently as he looked at him. “Well, it’s fine with me...” He paused, “actually, no, you can’t.”

“Eh, why? It’s mostly me who takes care of her.”

He really thought Ken wouldn’t object.

“If you take Kuro with you, you won’t ever come back,” Ken replied, holding Kuro out. “But if you’re worried about this little one, then you’ll surely come back and see her every now and then, right?”

Aizou took her from his brother’s arms, and she squirmed, as if she preferred his brother. He adjusted his grip on her, taking care not to drop her, and she finally became comfortable and settled down.

Aizou looked at Ken’s face in confusion, not knowing what to say.

“Well, that’s how it is...anyway, I’m going to meet up with Arisa-chan,” Ken started to leave before suddenly pausing. “I’m borrowing your clothes, by the way,” he grinned at him, before leaving the room with a happy whistle.

“You’re already wearing them...” Aizou muttered, hugging Kuro tightly.

Even if he took Kuro with him, he was sure that he’d come back to the apartment anyway.

For him, he was always like that. He always tried to stay a family.

He finished getting ready and went to the front door, putting on his shoes and slung his bag over his shoulder. The house was quiet, and the lights were off.

He closed and locked the front door, and shoved the key into his pocket as he left.

(Alright, let’s go...)

💮

When Yujiro walked out the front door of his house, his mother came to see him off.

“I’ll be sure to see the show today, with your father.”

“Yeah...”

“Say hi to Aizou-kun for me.”

“Yeah...sure...” Yujiro replied vaguely.

“You two have to get along,” his mother chided.

“I know...well, I’m off,” Yujiro started to walk away, but was quickly stopped by his mother.

“Wait,” his mother took out a hiuchi stone and struck it, causing Yujiro to glance at her in surprise. She smiled at him. “I do this when your father and Koichiro perform. It’s a prayer that the play will be completed safely.”

She looked like she was about to start crying. Until now, she’d held back.

“Thank you, mom...”

“Do your best. Have a great day- and good luck.”

“Yeah...I’m going, now...”

(It’s time to go...)

To the world that was awaiting them.

⚔️🏹

The city was still quiet, as the people had not yet awakened. Only the occasional chirp of a small bird could be heard. It was a little dark in the distance, but the sky was beginning to lighten.

Two thin shadows stretched across the cobblestones of the square where the statues of the founding heroes stood.

“Why did you refuse the horse when the princess offered to give it to you? It would have been easier with the horse,” Aizou walked next to him, his arms crossed with a disapproving look on his face.

“Why didn’t you get your own horse? I don’t want one.”

“Well, if we’re traveling together, I don’t want to be the only one on horseback.”

“No one said anything about us traveling together. Why are you making all of the decisions on your own?”

After staying at the castle for about two weeks, Yujiro decided to leave because the injury on his leg had healed. He told the princess and her sister yesterday. 

However, he did not say a word to Aizou.

And yet, when he packed his bags and left his room in the morning, he was waiting for him, dressed in his traveling clothes, looking as if it was simply a natural thing to do.

Apparently, he had heard from the princess and her sister and decided that he would go with him.

Unlike Yujiro, Aizou had not been injured and could have left at any time.

The reason he had been taking it easy at the castle seemed to be because he was waiting for Yujiro to recover.

Maybe he was worried about his injuries, or maybe he was just too meddlesome, even though no one had asked him to do so.

Although he had no trouble walking, the pain was still there. Yujiro wanted to speed up, but he honestly couldn’t.

Yujiro glared at him, his eyes practically screaming “don’t follow me!”.

Aizou folded his hands behind his head and turned to the side with a whistle, as if he had no intention of listening to what he had to say.

This attitude was even more annoying, and the wrinkles between Yujiro’s eyebrows deepened.

“Come to think of it...did you remember anything?” Aizou was probably asking about a past memory that he had forgotten. The two were looking for the jewel to retrieve their memories.

“...No. Did you?” Yujiro asked as they walked to the city gate together.

“I knew it wouldn’t be so easy to make our wish come true,” Aizou took out the yellow jewel from his pocket and rolled it in his hand. He must have wished on it too.

He’d even asked the princess to help him find and read some books in the castle library, but no matter which method he tried, the end result was the same.

As usual, his memories of his life before the age of ten remained blank, and he couldn’t even find a clue as to how he came to be in this world.

Yujiro took his blue jewel out of his pocket. He wondered if it would simply take a long time for his wish to come true, or if there was some special way to get it, or if it is really just a jewel.

It's not that he didn't think that he had gone through all that trouble to get it, but strangely enough, he wasn't all that discouraged.

“Maybe it really is just a jewel,” Aizou held the yellow jewel up with his fingers and held it up to the sunlight that was finally beginning to shine. “If we sell it, we can probably make some good money.”

“I’m not going to sell it. I went through too much to get it in the first place.”

“If it’s just a jewel, there’s no point in keeping it...unless you want it as a good luck charm.”

If he kept it, maybe his wish would come true someday. The story never said anywhere that the wish would come true instantly.

“Well, for the time being, we can look for other ways to remember...like, maybe if I fell down or something,”Aizou continued.

Yujiro stared at him. “If it were that easy, don’t you think you would have remembered a long time ago?”

“You never know. A fortuneteller once told me shock can bring back memories.”

“If you think that, then go bang your head against a tree somewhere. Alone.”

“I already tried that, but it didn’t work,” Aizou shrugged.

(What an idiot...)

Yujiro sighed and glanced over at Aizou. “So why are you following me, anyway? Go travel by yourself.”

“We have the same goal. Wouldn’t it be more rational to travel together?” Aizou tossed his jewel up in the air and caught it, multiple times. “It’s not like I want to go with you too, you know.” His lips curled into a pout.

“What’s rational about it?”

“Ever since we started traveling together, we survived snowy mountains, slayed a dragon, and got the jewels.”

“Nothing good happens when I’m with you.”

“That again?!” Aizou frowned. “I won’t accept anymore complaints from you!”

“And I won’t listen to your nagging!” Yujiro slapped his hands over his ears.

Just as the city gates came into view, they heard a voice calling out to them. “Brave travelers!”

They turned around. The window of that inn where they were staying was open, and the innkeeper’s daughter was waving her hand as she leaned forward.

“Thank you for saving the princess! Have a good trip!” She tossed them both a red apple.

Yujiro and Aizou accepted them and looked at each other. Forgetting their argument from earlier, they smiled at each other.

They had not yet found the answer to what they were looking for.

But maybe someday, since the two were traveling together on the same path, they’ll find what they’re looking for.

Yes, someday.

(Maybe together, we can find it...)

The two men waved their hands, turned forward, and walked straight to the city gates, which was enveloped by the morning sun.

When one story ends, a new one begins. The regrets of the past, the fate that binds them to this world, leaving behind all the doubts, worries, and fears about the future.

To the shining world that awaits beyond the mysterious door, the world that someone dreamed of someday.

They were going to move forward together with the dawn. As long as they continued to believe, there would always be hope.

Because hope will always exist.

[hay01]

It was a beautiful sunny day just like this many years ago when Mike V and I were cruising around Brooks after a previous night out. We were wondering what to do when I pulled a baby picture out of my pocket that I took off the fridge from a house party we were at the night before. Figuring out what to do with it we drove over to Shoppers Drug Mart and checked out the Father’s Day cards. After some laughing and planning, we picked out a simple one and bought a pen and glue stick to go with it.

Back in the truck we got a hold of my sister Lesa and said we need to see you. We drove over to her place and said we need you to write in this card. On our drive Mike and I were working out some details on the target and how to execute this. After little thinking we knew of this girl that left for awhile and moved back with a baby and we knew a target who had some fun with her prior to her leaving. So we thought why not and got Lesa to write in the card, “Hi, I just thought you should know. That’s all.” And signed the girls name and we glued the picture to the card.

Mike and I then drove to buddies house and taped the envelope to the door of his house and peruses to BP’s lounge giggling and laughing. We ordered a schooner and Trevor. A walked in with Todd. W. They just got off work and neither of them were home yet. Trevor just got his schooner when Ian. g walked in the door and sat down and said, “Trevor, some girl left an envelope on the door for you, but I didn’t open it. It’s on the table!”

Mike and I looked at each other but just smirked. Looking at Trevor he was all googley eyed and happy he couldn’t wait to go home and see what great letter awaited him. So he left his schooner and said he’d be right back.

Sitting with Ian and Todd, Mike and I filled them in on what was going on. I think in that time Chris. T even showed up and we were getting a good chuckle goin on when Trevor walked back in all showered and quiet. We asked him what was in the note and he said, “nothing!” He wouldn’t talk about it so we just went on with our drinks and food while he sat there not even touching his schooner with a pale blank look on his face. He got up and went to the bathroom and we came to the conclusion we should tell him the truth.

After Trevor sat down I looked at him and said, “Hey! It’s just a joke!”

“What’s a joke?” He barked back

Mike says, “the card, it’s just a joke!”

As we started laughing, looking at Trevor we weren’t sure if he was ready to puke cry laugh or explode with rage. So many emotions! Priceless!

Looking back that may have been kinda mean and some other people may have showed up there that I can’t recall and we may have wrecked his night but none the less it was funny as all hell, and I’m sure Trevor looks back now laughs too. Eh Trevor? Ehhhhh? 😂

[thearvariblues]

Sing Me a Song

“You Geralt of Rivia’s bard?”

Jaskier looks up from his notepad and grins at the man who’s just sat at the opposite side of the table.

“Technically, I used to be,” the bard says, taking a sip of his ale. “We had a tiny misunderstanding last year. I’m sure he’s gonna be fine, though, I’m just giving him some time to cool down and wallow in self-pity.”

Jaskier frowns, because his brain has finally caught up with his mouth and informs him that even though the man who asked the question is very pretty (and he is – a bit short, but lean and clearly very agile, brown-skinned, with dark, wavy hair and stunningly unnatural green eyes), he also has got two big, scary swords strapped to his back, way too many scars and has, in fact, only one green eye, the other being covered by an eye patch, presumably missing.

And then there’s the Cat school medallion on his chest.

As Geralt would say… fuck.

“Unless you’re here to kidnap me and torture me to lure him into a trap. If that’s the case, I’ve never met a Geralt of Rivia in my life. Also, if you harm a hair on my head, he will hunt you down and kill you, very slowly and painfully. Just a heads up,” Jaskier smiles, utterly failing to sound at least a little bit threatening.

“Thanks for the warning,” the Witcher laughs. “But I actually need you to write me a song.”

“Sorry, I’m afraid this bard already has a Witcher to praise,” Jaskier protests, shaking his head firmly.

“Ugh. Who says I want praise?” the man says, making a face. “I just can’t seem to find a friend of mine, so I need to make him find me.”

“With a song? Do I look like a fucking pied piper?” Jaskier smirks.

“A little, yeah.”

“Fair enough. What’s in it for me?”

“What do you think is going to happen once Geralt hears that his bard has found himself a new muse?” the Witcher grins.

“Oh,” Jaskier says, chuckling. “Oh, but that’s good.”

“Are you in, then?”

“Absolutely. And, uhm… What did you say your name was?”

“By the gods, where are my manners?” the Witcher laughs. “I’m Aiden.”

*

Geralt places two tankards of ale on the table and sits down with a grunt.

“Don’t tell me you’re getting old, Wolf,” his brother Lambert smirks and promptly pulls one of the tankards closer. “Because that almost sounded like Vesemir when he’s trying to get up from his chair.”

“You’re so fucking funny,” Geralt murmurs.

“I know, right?” Lambert grins, tucking a strand of curly red hair behind his ear. “So, how’s life on the Path without your beloved bard?”

“Not my bard.”

“So pretty fucking terrible, eh?” Lambert chuckles.

“Fuck off, Lambert.”

“You’re being very nice and friendly today, you know?”

“I bought you a drink. So shut up and… drink.”

Lambert shrugs and for once does what he’s told. Within a few seconds, half of the tankard’s content vanishes.

“If it’s any consolation, life without my Cat is also pretty fucking unbearable,” he says then.

“Hm.”

“Oh, really, Geralt? You’re using your famous hm against me? Me, your brother?!”

Geralt groans.

“By the gods… Why can’t I just run into Eskel for once? Why does it always have to be you?”

“You’re just lucky, I guess.”

“Lucky. Yeah.”

Lambert rolls his eyes and focuses on his ale again – until the local bard grabs his lute and starts playing a slow, romantic ballad. Lambert growls.

“Fuck, I hate that song!”

“Why?” Geralt blinks, because he’s never heard the song before, and to be perfectly honest, it doesn’t really sound that bad.

“A brown-skinned woman with dark hair who’s seemingly killed, then comes back to life already plotting her revenge, only to find out that her lover’s already avenged her? Always reminds me of Aiden.”

“Aiden wasn’t exactly… A woman, was he?”

“He also hasn’t come back to life, as far as I know,” Lambert mutters.

“Who wrote it?” Geralt frowns, listening carefully. “It sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Some Master Dandelion. Never heard of him, but it seems he’s very popular now.”

“Hmmm…”

“Oh, not again!” Lambert groans.

“It just… It really does sound like Jaskier’s song.”

“You just fucking miss the bard, Geralt, that’s all.”

“No. No, I actually think…”

“That might be exactly the problem,” Lambert says and places his empty tankard back on the table. “The second round’s on me.”

*

“Seems like your plan’s not working as intended,” Jaskier comments. He’s spent weeks traveling with Aiden, and they still haven’t even heard about another Witcher trying to find them.

“I’m aware,” Aiden mutters, chewing his dinner without even noticing its taste – which is, honestly, probably for the best. “Could you be, like… less subtle?”

Jaskier shrugs.

“I suppose.”

“Fine,” Aiden nods. “Do it.”

*

“It’s a man now,” Geralt frowns, listening to the song he’s heard countless times already. “That’s new.”

“Looks like Master Dandelion might like to, uhm, dual wield,” Lambert snorts.

“It still sounds like Jaskier’s work.”

“Does Jaskier like to dual wield?”

“Hmm,” Geralt says dreamily.

“All the more reason to apologize, then, eh?”

“Oh, shut up, Lambert…”

*

“Still not working!” Aiden groans. He’s been waiting for three months for his Wolf to find him, and to no avail.

“I could, you know… Try something more obvious,” Jaskier offers.

“Please.”

*

“It’s a cat now,” Geralt blinks. “Dark-skinned, dark-haired… cat.”

Lambert sighs.

“Yeah, I hate those fucking metaphors.”

*

“I’m starting to think I should have just… kept trying to find him,” Aiden sighs, staring out of the tavern’s window.

Jaskier, cheeks still flushed from his performance, downs his ale and shakes his head.

“Don’t give up hope just yet,” he says. “I’ve already made a few changes to the song.”

“Oh, have you?” Aiden smirks. “Does it now say Lambert, I’m alive you moron, stop hiding and fucking find me?”

“Well, not yet… But almost.”

“Great. I can’t wait to hear it.”

*

Lambert is staring at yet another local bard singing the fucking ballad. He doesn’t even blink. Geralt is getting a little worried that his brother’s brain might have actually exploded.

“It says a Cat Witcher now,” he says, hoping it would get a reaction out of Lambert.

The redhead finally blinks. That’s probably good.

“A Cat Witcher who comes back to life only to find out his Wolf lover has already avenged him,” Geralt adds.

Lambert blinks again.

“And you know, I’m almost sure that this Master Dandelion is just Jaskier’s new alias.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill him,” Lambert mutters when the song finally comes to its end.

“Which one of them?” Geralt smirks.

“Both of them!” Lambert growls. “I swear to gods, if I find out your stupid bard stole my Cat…”

“Excuse me, madam,” Geralt says to the innkeeper who’s just brought them their dinner. “Where did your bard learn this song?”

“That sappy ballad?” the innkeeper frowns. “From this Master Dandelion himself. He passed through the town last week with a Witcher.”

“And Master Dandelion…”

“You know the bard that calls himself Jaskier? It’s him with a fancy hat on,” she smirks.

“About this Witcher,” Lambert growls. “Does he look like in the song?”

“Pretty much, yeah. Kind of small for a Witcher, and almost too pretty, you know, but we had a little griffin problem and he slayed that beast like it was nothing, so…”

“I’m so gonna kill them both,” Lambert murmurs while Geralt has to try very hard not to chuckle.

“Would you happen to know where were they heading?” he asks.

“I would,” the woman says and looks at the Witcher expectantly.

“I see,” Geralt sighs. “You have another monster problem, don’t you?”

“Well. It turns out the griffin probably had a mate…”

“Of course it fucking did,” Geralt nods and picks up his fork. He simply refuses to deal with this with an empty stomach…

*

Jaskier critically eyes the clothes he’s picked for tonight’s performance.

“What do you think, Aiden?” he asks his companion. “Isn’t the purple a bit too much? It’s a small town, after all. Wouldn’t the steel blue look better?”

“I don’t know, I like the red one best,” Aiden shrugs from his spot on the bed.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Reminds you of Lambert’s hair,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “Melitele’s tits, I wish he’d find us already, because this is getting really–”

As if on cue, the door of the room slams open and a big, red-haired man walks in.

“You fucking bitch!” he yells when he sees Aiden.

The dark-haired Witcher beams and gets to his feet.

“Lambs!”

“Oh. Okay. That was fast,” Jaskier nods.

Lambert growls and grabs Aiden by the collar.

“Asshole!” he hisses. “I fucking mourned you!”

“Oh, honey, that’s so sweet,” Aiden smiles.

Lambert pushes him against the wall, so hard that Aiden grunts.

“I cried for you!”

“In my defense, it wasn’t exactly my fault,” Aiden smiles.

Jaskier inches towards the door.

“I guess I’ll just… leave you two to it.”

Needless to say, Lambert ignores him completely.

“I fucking avenged you!”

“Yes, that was very kind of you,” Aiden grins, utterly unaffected by Lambert’s angry face so close to his own. “You saved me a lot of trouble.”

Lambert groans, buries his face in Aiden’s shoulder and sighs deeply.

“You fucker,” he mutters.

“Yeah, I missed you too, puppy,” Aiden smiles, wrapping his arms around Lambert.

Jaskier, who’s already standing in the doorway, places his hand on his heart and takes a deep breath.

“Oh,” he whispers. “I shall write the most beautiful ballad about this… Ow!”

He’s unceremoniously dragged out of the room and this time it’s his turned to be slammed against the wall by a big, angry Witcher – but this one is white-haired and dressed all in black.

“Geralt!” Jaskier exclaims, his face brightening up.

“You won’t write a fucking thing,” Geralt growls.

“Is that so? May I ask why, dear heart?”

“Because you’re mine. My bard. And if I ever find out you’re writing about another Witcher again–”

“Then what?” Jaskier asks, cocking his head. “But before you answer, I’d like to remind you that I am not yours anymore, as you have made it quite clear on the mountain that you are not interested in having me as a companion–”

Jaskier is effectively shut up by Geralt’s lips pressing against his with determination that makes it absolutely clear that Geralt hasn’t merely lost his balance and happened to be falling in Jaskier’s general direction.

“Mine,” he growls.

“Well,” Jaskier sighs, slipping his fingers into Geralt’s hair. “When you put it like that… Fuck the mountain, I suppose.”

“Fuck the mountain,” Geralt agrees. “But I’m sorry. For what I said.”

“Apology very much accepted,” Jaskier laughs. “I’d ask you to fuck me, but I’m afraid my room is currently… occupied.”

Lambert’s loud moan only confirms Jaskier’s statement.

“Hm,” Geralt hums. “Do you think this tavern has a bath? I think I still have some griffin blood in my hair from last week.”

“Oh,” Jaskier purrs. “Oh, yes. And I’m sure I could get some chamomile oil…”

They hear another moan, this time Aiden’s.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Geralt grins and grabs Jaskier’s hand. “Come on, bard. We have some catching up to do…”

[amazingphilza]

twitchcon :: cc!multiple x reader

fluff , platonic , gender neutral ! some mcyt headcanons if you were to attend twitchcon w them

cc’s included in order: tommyinnit , tubbo , ranboo , wilbur soot , philza , technoblade

cw: kinda lengthy for the minors (i think), not as much for the hags LMAO /hj

tommyinnit

this man is so excited to be at his first twitchcon & being able to hang out with all his best friends makes it a hundred times better

when he isn’t at a panel or doing meet & greets, he’s dragging you everywhere to see the whole convention center (clingyinnit)

he is just so at awe despite this not being his first convention to attend

you’d be surprised he gets tired pretty quickly & stops over to the partner lounge

you both rest for a bit against a wall in a pretty packed hallway despite it being an exclusive area to twitch partners

every time a famous streamer walks by he will yell it out and record it then vlog your reaction, even if they’re surrounded with bodyguards & trying to get to another place quickly

he’d zoom in his camera to their face at a horrible angle and be like

“oh my god it is THE ninja. ninja famous fortnite player, HELLO.”

but he gets completely ignored

then the camera pans out to you, still really zoomed in that the capture is blurry

“ninjainnit?”

“EH?”

tommy is so confused, forgetting the bit ninja did on his twitter where he renamed himself ‘ninjainnit’ for a split second

okay tommy isn’t that athletic but he will chase you and the rest of your group down a hallway if he had to

he’d probably find a toy gun from the artist alley/seller booths and shoot you and wilbur with it

but if tommy stumbles across any of the dream team, it’s about to be minecraft manhunt but irl

and he will def play his stream music while walking or smth when he’s bored (or trying to jump dream & sapnap)

** DO DO DO DO MANHUNT MUSIC **

oh my god,, now thinking about it he’s probably the one to open like random doors of empty rooms and steal stuff while you film him

like he will take a random empty glass, a bunch of pens, a freebie t-shirt, everything he sees he takes with him and you’re just panic

“tommy we’re literally not supposed to be here, and i’m stuck here filming you. it’s surely a felony in action”

“well, it’s their fault for leaving the doors open! plus this is great content. who’s the dirty crime boy now, HM?”

you’d tell wilbur about this and he’d scold tommy and threaten him with the same pen tommy stole

tommy probably would also drag you some weird event happening outside twitchcon along with tubbo and ranboo

“pokimane is giving out free pizza to everyone if we go to this one restaurant down the street!”

“we are literally gonna get bombarded. have you forgot you’re like three of twitch’s top streamers? i’d rather pay for all of our meals than try getting free pizza from pokimane against all her other fans”

“DEAL! let’s go to five guys then!”

you unfortunately end up paying for all 3 of their meals and picking on their food instead of buying your own

even with all of them making way more money than you, they still happen to be cheapskates

OR tommy will end up getting a burrito from a taco truck, immediately making a mess of himself, then proceed to complain how messy the food is to eat despite knowing what he was getting himself into before even ordering

“shit my clothes are all ruined now!”

“well that’s your fault you got a burrito, as if it’s your first time having one”

“i mean the food is good, i’m not complaining about that but i don’t think it’s that good that it’s worth costing my red and white shirt, im just saying”

tubbo

same with tommy, he is so excited

i don’t know why but i imagine him overpacking his suitcase and you making fun of him for it

anyway tubbo has his irl backpack on and streaming EVERYTHING

probably spends a lot of time at a bunch of different booths, checking out all the pointless gadgets he could buy for his stream

you’re the one to stop him from doing so

“TUBBO IT’S LITERALLY OVER TEN THOUSAND DOLLARS, STOP. DONT GET IT.”

“WHY NOT?? IT WILL BE COOL FOR MY STREAM AND I WILL USE IT EVERYDAY”

“okay theoretically speaking, how the hell are you going to even bring it home? which—let me remind you—is across the country for you and not to mention the giant ocean separating america and the uk”

“free ship-pang!!!”

“i hate to break it to you tubbo but there is no way you can get free shipping on a FIVE FOOT PC. it’s nearly as tall as you! what are you even gonna do on it, hack the government???”

the arguments are all lighthearted but eventually you give in and let him splurge over a thousand dollars in different devices he claimed he “needed”

i could honestly see him visiting the beaches in san diego and going for a swim or even renting out a boat to use for a bit :D

also he’d bring benson along with him and taking a bunch of scenic photos with it in them

i have a feeling he’s the type to schedule a spontaneous meet & greet because he was bored & gets in trouble for causing a mob in a certain part of the convention

he’s like “oh god, i did not expect this many of the bois to show up AHAHAH oops”

tubbo would def pull a lilypichu and bring his melodica or ukulele and play themes while following random people/cosplayers

at the end of the day, you’d find his bag just stuffed with crap he either got for free or bought in the convention

“how did you get all that stuff? i was with you all day??? and it’s only the first day of the convention, hello?? it looks like you’ve been collecting as if twitchcon has went on for a week already!”

“HA i have my ways, do not underestimate my powers”

lani would probably tag along for the vacation honestly

like whenever someone comes up to her giving her gifts/asking for pics, you and tubbo would tease her about how famous she is

and i dunno but something about tubbo just gives me this amusement park energy and going to legoland and spending the whole day there since it’s near by and because he can

ranboo

he is like a beacon in a sea of people, that’s it .

i honestly just see him causing as much chaos as the other two

ranboo would probably like take someone’s camera whether if they’re streaming or if it’s for the vlog, hold it up high, and point the camera directly above someone’s face

it did not matter how tall you were and if you had platform shoes on, ranboo was a skyscraper next to you

“HAHAH this is how i see you from this height, this is funny”

then he shows you the vid of the recording of him getting like an aerial view of your face

like you see your nose and all your pores and just overall a bad angle to be captured in

“OH GOD RANBOO DELETE THAT, ITS HORRIFIC”

i dunno why but i feel like he’d jump scare every person that was cosplaying as his minecraft character from behind for some reason

“BOO!”

“ranboo i’m not even remotely dressed as your skin—”

“don’t worry i’m practicing it’s fineee”

“you’re like the height of 2 people combined, i think you will be fine as is. you even intimidated the security at the front”

i feel like if he had his own panel he’d like pull up some undertale song in the middle of it and scare all the people in the crowd

“lore but in real life”

probably would get some matching keepsake with you from artist alley/the booths!

i could imagine like a cute keychain or smth :D

i feel like he’s the type to like randomly volunteer as a participant for those mini events in a booth thinking it would be funny but regrets it the moment he’s on stage

after introductions the presenter is like “okay ranboo, you will be given a random meme prompt above your head you won’t be able to see until after and you will have to make a random face to compliment it!”

and you can just tell by his facial expression he’s just thinking

oh god what have i gotten myself into

what is this game? who came up with this idea?

you’d laugh at him the whole time, even after he’s off the stage and finished with that small fiasco

“that was horrible. never again.”

“AHAHAH IT LOOKED SO AWKWARD YOU DID GREAT”

“I CROSSED MY EYES AND PUFFED MY CHEEKS BECAUSE I COULDNT THINK OF ANY OTHER FACIAL EXPRESSION. THE PROMPT ENDING UP BEING ‘WHEN TWITTER CANCELS YOU FOR USING PLASTIC STRAWS.’ AND WHEN I SAW WHAT IT WAS—LITERALLY WHAT KIND OF GAME–”

“I GOT PICTURES AND EVERYTHING ITS PERFECT AHAHAHAH”

wilbur soot

honestly with wilbur it’s slightly more chill

he already experienced twitchcon before so he’s just glad to see his friends again after so long

insists that you explore the convention yourself rather than sticking with him the whole time but you do anyway!

wilbur would probably have like a mini concert and gets you front row seats with the rest of the group

but that doesn’t mean before it that you’re not helping him set up

“y/n please– my amp is so heavy, i can carry it”

“don’t worry! i’m strong” :D

and musically talented or not, he will probably bring you and the rest of his friends up to stage to just vibe and sing a bunch of random acoustic songs

it’s not like some big concert hall stage,, i imagine more like a casual thing w a slightly higher platform from the ground yk?

after spending a long day at the convention he’d also bring everyone across the city to la jolla or smth !

you’d all probably have dinner there and chill, watching the pretty sunset

“this place is really pretty but oh my god im gonna lose my breath hiking up this stupid hill, please slow down”

and wilbur is like ??? because he’s completely fine with his long legs and everything

“just walk faster”

“no, you walk slower”

AHAHAH and for context traversing through la jolla by walking around the town is a bit hard since it’s basically on a bunch of hills (walking up from the beach to a restaurant actually is actually sm work, trust me ive been there)

wilbur honestly doesn’t spend that much time in the actual convention center, he’s probably sightseeing a bit of san diego with you instead

but i could imagine him staying at the tabletop games area playing dnd or smth

“c’mon y/n, come join!”

“uhh i’m not sure, i’m not the best at roleplay and...”

“it’s fine don’t worry!”

he’d pull you in with him and end up enjoying yourself even if it was your first time

and if you’re of age, you’d be wilbur’s +1 at the twitch partner party and make sure mans doesn’t too drunk

if it’s not too late in the night, you two would chill at the beach after the party

it’s just a nice, calming moment after all the loud music mixed with hundreds of conversations at the party

also something about like taking polaroids pictures with wilbur just seems to go hand in hand for me

i’m not sure why but you will be taking lots of pics with wilbur for sure (not necessarily you both in the photo, but of sceneries as well while you’re together!)

philza

literally a dad on vacation with his children, it doesn’t matter how old you are

need sunscreen? surprisingly has it

want a snack? probably has a small granola bar somewhere in his bag

but same with wilbur, he’s more chill like this isn’t his first time at twitchcon

omg he’d def bring you to the artist alley and just buy a bunch of fanart and stuff tho

“oh wow look phil, someone made a giant poster of the dream smp and shit!”

“holy shit that’s so good what the fuck!”

and he’s like rushing to that artist’s stall to buy a poster or print

idk why but phil seems like the person to know where he’s going all over the convention center

he probably had a copy of the directory map but yk

you just have trouble reading it bc all the signs seem to be misleading to you

nothing really crazy screams out to me of what phil would do at twitchcon besides like go to a few events, spend a bunch of time w his friends, etc

HOWEVER i could see him wasting a lot of his time at the gaming area and testing new games that are currently on the works of being developed

like “woah y/n, this vr game is sick, you should try it out!”

ngl i feel like phil would plan a visit to disneyland for everyone, like he gets the tickets and everything but once you’re at the park it’s free reign, y’all go everywhere with not much of a plan

the minors would try to cheap out phil and pay less than the others even though everyone else fully paid phil back and everything LMAO

ok but if he’s feeling nice, phil will buy everyone cotton candy/pretzels :D

and if you’re not hungry, he’d at least get you a mickey balloon

HE WILL HAVE MATCHING MICKEY EARS WITH MUMZA YES .

ALSO STAYING FOR THE FIREWORKS THOUGH OMG

just in general, best idea phil had for taking everyone to disneyland :D

technoblade

surprisingly techno is really calm despite this being like one of his first conventions

but when he finally settles in and gets comfortable, he’s showing the same energy

if you’re playfully yelling, he will yell back

however there’s still those awkward moments that are unavoidable

idk why but something about him makes me think that if you feel tired and want to go back to your hotel room, he’d go with you just to make sure you get there safe

he probably also needs a break from being around everyone else for a moment too LMAO

i could also see him searching far and wide in the artist alley for fanart of himself AHAHAH

walking around with him in the convention consists of someone yelling “BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD” every 5 minutes but you don’t really mind

something about him makes me think he’ll be forced into playing minecraft twitch rivals along with the rest of sbi or smth

and he’s like “oh god, i’m going to be on stage? and people will see my face while i play minecraft?”

“i’m sure it will be fun!”

“i mean i like being competitive and feeding my ego, but i’m not that desperate.. well”

do i imagine techno getting easily tired of being surrounded by a bunch of people and just going back to his hotel room with phil and watching some anime with him? yes

and will you watch even if you have no idea what’s going on? also yes

i feel like after a while of you guys hanging out in techno’s room, the rest of the gang will just slowly join you guys

like eventually everyone is there; you, techno, phil, wilbur, niki, tommy, tubbo, ranboo, etc

and techno is like “wha– where did you guys come from?” because his room is basically packed

and niki could be like “oh we can go if you want!”

then techno just insists that she’s fine “but who let the child get in?” clearly implying tommy’s presence

“OI!!”

eventually techno gives in with the company and someone gets a bunch of board games to play from the front desk

lots of yelling and laughing for sure

when it becomes late at night, techno is like half conscious, you’re on your phone, wilbur is staring out the window & enjoying the night view, tommy is passed out on the couch from tiredness, tubbo & ranboo is still wide awake quietly talking, and phil & niki are helping clean up the giant mess

eventually everyone brings themselves to go back to their own room except tommy who won’t budge

you give techno a look and he immediately understands what you were thinking

he rushes to the bathroom to fill up two cups with ice cold water and handed one to you

“on three?”

“okay.. one”

“two”

“three!”

then both of you pour the water on the poor child’s face

he jolts awake and saying a string of curses

“what the fuck techno? y/n too?”

“get out” is the only think techno says that before tommy rushes out with his stuff and you leave right after

a/n: i honestly can’t wait until conventions open up again though,, phil and ranboo were talking about vidcon earlier and omg.

also i kinda want to take in tommy requests but i’m not sure??? it would be both cc! and c! x gn!reader for sure tho. i love writing him to bits but who knows, maybe i’ll only stick to my ideas,, or not. send in a tommy x reader request, might do it, might not, but he’s my fav cc if you can’t tell so! :D (i dunno if i will keep it strictly platonic, but unrequited crushes and stuff are fun to write hehe,,)

edit: let’s hope i fixed all the grammar mistakes LMAO we love writing late at night :) /s /hj

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Cat and Mouse Game - Fred Weasley

Title: Cat and Mouse Game Pairing: Fred x fem!reader Warnings: NSFW, mentions of masturbation, semi-public sex, fingerfucking, unprotected sex A/N: I have a lot of feelings about Fred Weasley and very few of them are innocent. This is like 95% filth with some fluff thrown in at the end because I love Fred Weasley and he’s my only source of serotonin.

Tags: @tonksichu​

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They’ve been playing the same game of cat and mouse since their Hogwarts days. They’d take turns leaving flirty notes for the other to find, grabbing the other’s hand under the table at dinner, pulling the other into a dark corridor for a few minutes of stolen kisses. Not much has changed between them since then, although their games are far less innocent.

“Mail’s here!” Verity calls from somewhere in the shop.

Fred doesn’t move a muscle, his focus completely taken up by the potion he’s stirring in front of him. He and George have been working on a new product for weeks, a candy infused with truth serum that only lasts for one question – the perfect addition to any game of truth or dare. They had planned on launching it next week, but they’re still having problems getting the formula of the truth serum just right.

“For fucks sake,” he mutters to himself when a puff of black smoke rises out of the cauldron. “Too much dandelion root.” He shoves himself away from his desk, stalking over to the sink so he can start over again. He’s so focused on scrubbing that he doesn’t hear George come in.

“Not going well, eh?” George asks, chuckling when Fred drops the cauldron, clearly startled by his brother’s sudden presence.

“I’m going to make you wear a bell for Merlin’s sake. You scared the shit out of me,” Fred groans, picking the cauldron back up. He rinses it one more time before stalking back to his desk. He’s about to start working again, when he notices that George is still standing in front of him. “Did you need something? Or are you just gonna stand there to annoy me?”

George smiles at his brother. Partially because he finds his frustrated demeanor amusing, but mostly because it’ll annoy Fred further. “Oh, I just popped in to bring you your mail.”

Fred rolls his eyes, getting back to work. “Just put it in the tray, I’ll get to it later.” He gestures lazily to the incoming work tray on the corner of his desk, which has started to pile up. He’s going over his notes so he can adjust the amount of dandelion root for the fifth time, when George shoves a letter into his line of vision.

“Actually, dear brother of mine I think you’ll notice that this particular letter requires your immediate attention,” George snickers. He drops the letter on the desk, and with a waggle of his fingers he’s gone.

Fred had only gotten a glimpse of the envelope, but as soon as George has closed the door behind him he pushes his work aside to pick it up. He recognized Y/N’s delicate writing immediately, he had become quite familiar with it during their time together at school.

In fact, he’s been waiting for this letter for the past three weeks. That’s how it is with them. One of them is the aggressor while the other waits for the next letter, waits for the details of their next meeting. It had been Fred’s turn to wait, and wait he had. Most nights he found himself laying in bed, hand around his hard cock thinking about the things he and Y/N had gotten up to during their last rendezvous.

That’s the one thing he truly misses about his days back in school, how easy it was for him to force her hand when he was tired of waiting. He knew her too well, knew how to get under her skin. Whenever he missed the feeling of her hand in his, or when he had nearly forgotten what the inside of her mouth tastes like it was all too easy to get her to make her move. All it took was some innocent flirting during breakfast, usually with Angelina Johnson, and by lunch time there would be a note in Y/N’s delicate scrawl detailing their next meeting time and place on his pillow.

But now he truly has to wait for Y/N to need him. They had gone longer than three weeks before, but that had been during the war, when it was too dangerous to play their game. Fred knows that he could always break their little game, he could owl her any day and have her in his bed that night, but he enjoys the chase, it’s part of the fun.

His mind wanders as his fingers tear at the envelope, wondering which of their games Y/N had chosen for them, silently hoping she had chosen his favorite.

Sometimes their game was romantic. They’d meet at a fancy muggle restaurant, all dressed up. Fred would wine and dine her for hours before he’d take her back to his. Their sex was always slow and intimate. Fred would make sure she could feel all of him and wouldn’t stop until his name was dripping from her lips as she came. He’d kiss her slowly as he came insider her, wanting to feel as close to her as possible.

Other times, their game was quick and dirty. They’d meet at a hotel room in London and from the second the door was shut behind them they were all over each other. They’d both be naked in a matter of minutes, their hands roaming each other’s bodies and Fred’s mouth leaving marks on her wherever he can. Their sex was quick and hard, both of them usually on their lunch breaks. Often they came together, and Fred’s lips wouldn’t leave her skin until they were back on the bustling streets of London and parting ways to go back to their lives.

Fred’s favorite game by far was the perfect mix of the others. They’d meet at a muggle club, just a few minutes apart from each other. Fred would arrive first and grab a drink from the bar before settling at a table. When Y/N would enter they’d lock eyes, and the game would truly begin. Y/N would spend the evening doing as she pleases: drinking, dancing, and most importantly, flirting. Fred would watch her from his spot, jealousy and arousal building up in his stomach. He’d let her push it and just as some unsuspecting muggle is trying to get her to leave with him, Fred would swoop in and remind her just who she belongs too. Their first round is quick and dirty, usually in the toilets of whatever club they happen to be at. Then he’d apperate them back to hers, and they’d spend the rest of the evening tangled in the sheets of her bed, kissing softly as he ruined her.

Fred fumbles with the envelope as he pulls the piece of parchment out, too excited to be careful. A grin spreads across his face as he eyes scan over the few words written down. She had chosen his favorite game, and he couldn’t wait to play.

Malibu. Tonight. 10:30.

-

Y/N stands in front of her open closet in nothing but a dressing gown, nervous butterflies in her stomach as she contemplates what to wear. Upscale muggle clubs are not her usual stomping ground and she wants to look perfect, so she’s at a loss for what to wear.

Of course, she could have picked one of their other games. She had plenty of dresses she felt confident in that would have been perfect for a night at a muggle restaurant, but it had already been three weeks since she’d seen Fred last, and she didn’t want to wait any longer for a reservation to open up. A lunch time meet up would have been perfect as well, since her and Fred managed to get naked in under 10 seconds her clothes wouldn’t matter, but she needed longer than an hour with him.

Plus, this particular game is Fred’s favorite, and she needs him nice and riled up for the night she has planned. They’ve only played out this game two other times, but both times Y/N was barely able to walk the next day.

She decides to go with something white, for a few different reasons. For one, Y/N had bought a white silk dress that hugs her curves perfectly last weekend and seeing her in something new and tight will rile Fred up even more.

But mostly, she knows that seeing her in white awakens something carnal in Fred. Y/N had once made the mistake of wearing a brand new set of matching white bra and panties to one of their meetings, and after Fred had ripped her panties off he fucked her hard, growling in her ear about how innocent she looked in white, but that they both knew what a dirty slut she was for him. He had made her cum so many times that she cried from the overstimulation, the only downside was that she had to replace her ruined panties and they had been quite expensive.

Y/N grabs the new white dress out of her closet, a shiver running down her spine at the memory. Three weeks is far too long to go without having Fred both in her bed and just in her life generally. She makes a mental note not to wait that long next time as she heads over to her dresser. She opens the top drawer, trying to decide which pair of panties would really get Fred going.

“Well, if I’m being honest with myself,” Y/N thinks out loud, quietly. With a wicked smile she slams the drawer shut. “No panties it is.”

-

Fred is already nursing a whiskey sour at a table when Y/N strolls into the main room of the club. Their eyes lock across the crowded room, and after sending her a sly wink his eyes trail down her body.

“Holy hell,” he groans, the grip he has on his glass tightening. He can already feel himself getting hard in his trousers just from the outfit Y/N is wearing alone. Fred can tell by the way the lights reflect off of it that the tight piece of fabric clinging to her every curve is made out of silk, his absolute favorite. The fact that it’s white drives him even crazier and he quickly downs his drink, needing to calm himself down.

From where Y/N is standing at the bar Fred has the perfect view of her bum. He absent mindedly signals for a waitress to bring him another drink, his eyes trained on Y/N. Fred has to stifle a groan when her dress rides up the back of her thighs as she leans forward to shout her order to the bartender. He’s fully hard in his trousers now as he thinks about how badly he wants to feel those thighs wrapped around his head.

Just as a waitress sets another drink down on Fred’s table a young man with tousled blonde hair comes up behind Y/N, blocking his view.

He takes a sip of his drink. “Let the games begin.”

-

Y/N feels someone come up behind her, and a moment later she can feel them press up against her. “You come here alone?”

She smiles to herself before turning to the stranger. There’s no doubt that he’s attractive, and Y/N knows that she had positioned herself directly in Fred’s line of sight, so she knows that he’s watching their exchange.

“I did actually,” she drawls, her hand running down the length of the glass the bartender had just set in front on her. “Was hoping to find someone that piques my interest here.”

The man’s eyes follow the languid movement of her hand on her glass for a moment, before he looks into her eyes with a smirk. “Oh really? Any luck so far?”

Y/N takes a sip of her drink, willing herself to keep her eyes on the man in front of her instead of searching for Fred’s. The alcohol burns her throat as arousal begins to build in her stomach. She knows Fred is out there, watching her intently as she flirts with someone who isn’t him. But they both know who she’ll be going home with, and that though alone has her pussy aching.

“I think so,” Y/N responds, her voice dripping with arousal. It’s not due to the man standing in front of her, but he doesn’t need to know that. She looks him up and down, taking notice of his strong hands and long legs. She nods to herself, almost saying ‘yeah, he’ll do.’ She downs the rest of her drink quickly and slaps some muggle money down on the bar. “Care to dance?”

-

Fred’s eyes are trained on the dance floor, his second drink abandoned on the table next to him.  He’s too focused on Y/N, watching her hips sway to the beat of whatever muggle song is playing. Her back is pressed up against the front of the bloke that approached her at the bar, and his hands are gripping her hips. They’ve been dancing like that for at least 30 minutes and Fred feels like he hasn’t even blinked, he’s too entranced by Y/N.

His cock has been aching in his trousers for what feels like hours, and his stomach is a pit full of arousal and jealousy. On one hand he finds Y/N’s actions downright dirty, and he knows he’ll be thinking of how good she looks tonight next time he’s alone in bed and desperate for her touch. On the other hand, he wants to be the one dancing behind her, gripping her hips so tightly he leaves bruises to remind her of him for days after.

Fred clenches his fist, his eyes trailing up Y/N’s body to her face to try and calm himself down. They’ve only been at it for 45 minutes and Fred already wants to storm over and claim Y/N. The first time they had played this particular game Y/N had been shy, and Fred had watched her flirt with a few different guys before she had settled on the dance floor with one. He watched her with him for the better part of two hours before he intervened, no longer able to stand the fact that it wasn’t his hands gripping her bum.

The second time Y/N was bolder. She had spent only 30 minutes at the bar talking to a bloke before they moved to the dance floor. Fred had managed to watch for over an hour that time before his hands ached to touch her and he sent the muggle man Y/N had been with away.

When he first entered the club that evening he had planned on waiting longer. Y/N had made him wait three weeks, and he planned on punishing her by making her wait for him. But now that he’s standing there, watching her move in that sinful white dress against someone who isn’t him he can barely stop himself from stomping over there and taking her right in the middle of the dance floor.

Usually he can contain himself. She’s always driven him mad, but he enjoys their little game too much to break the rules. He loves the uncertainty of the chase, it’s what had drawn him in all those years ago at Hogwarts. Not knowing what the next note would contain, not knowing how long she would make him wait, not knowing what wicked plans she had made for them. Y/N was just as unpredictable as Fred and that usually drove him crazy in a good way. But now, as Fred watches her grind up against some stranger he would give anything to know what’s going on in her mind. Fred isn’t sure if it’s because it’s been three weeks since he last saw her or because she looks absolutely ethereal tonight but he’s ready to end their game early and take his woman home.

Luckily for Fred the song Y/N and her partner had been dancing to fades into another, and the pair head back towards the bar. Fred adjusts himself in his trousers so his arousal isn’t so obvious, before he throws some money on his table.

“Time to end this game.”

-

A light line of sweat has begun to drip down Y/N’s back and she can feel the wetness of her pussy coating her thighs. Her and Darren, she had managed to remember to at least ask the name of the poor bloke she planned on blue balling, had been dancing right in the middle of the dance floor where Y/N knew Fred could see. She could feel his gaze on her as she moved her hips to the beat which did nothing but heighten her arousal.

“So, what are you drinking?” Darren asks as they reach the bar once again. Y/N had suggested they get another drink, needing to take a break from Fred’s stare.

Y/N can smell Fred before she feels him. He’s always smelled the same, like cinnamon, fireworks and something Y/N can only describe as home. She’s about to respond to the question when she feels someone press up against her back. Fred grabs her hips tightly and Y/N has to bite her lip to keep from moaning.

“Actually, I think she’s had enough to drink,” Fred answers for her as he pulls her even tighter against his chest. His voice sends waves of pleasure through Y/N’s body, and she tries to subtly rub her thighs together to try and get some relief on her aching pussy.

Darren glares at Fred, and if Y/N wasn’t so turned on she probably would have laughed. “Oi, mate, d’you mind? We’re having a good time together.”

Y/N can feel Fred’s chest rumble against her back as he laughs, clearly unphased by what Darren had said. She feels Fred lean down, and a shiver runs down her spine as his lips lightly caress her earlobe.

“Is that true, baby? Were you having a good time with him?” Fred whispers in Y/N’s ear before he begins to press light kisses to the side of her neck.

“I was, yes,” she admits, with a nod, her voice shaking with arousal.

Darren looks like he’s about to tell Fred off, but Fred’s lips stop their movements on her neck so he can whisper in her ear again. “But what about me, baby? Are you ready to have a good time with me?”

Y/N is barely able to nod before Fred is spinning her in his arms and kissing her deeply. She can hear Darren say something rude as he stalks off, but her mind is too full of Fred to register it. Fred trails one of his hands down to Y/N’s bum, giving it a tight squeeze, and when she parts her lips to let out a soft moan he takes the opportunity to lick into her mouth.

When Fred breaks their kiss a few moments later Y/N is breathless, her cheeks tinted pink. She chases after his lips, desperate for more but Fred grabs her chin. Her eyes flick up to meet his gaze, and a tingle of pleasure runs through her pussy at how dark Fred’s eyes are.

“You drive me so fucking crazy, Y/N,” he growls into her ear. “You show up here in this,” he pauses so his fingers can tug at the bottom hem of her dress before he continues. “Knowing that I can’t touch you.” Fred trails off for a moment, letting his lips press slow kisses up and down the column of her throat. “Such a naughty girl, aren’t you?”

Y/N lets out a whine, letting her head fall back so Fred’s lips have more skin to kiss. “Just wanted to look pretty for you is all,” she gasps. Fred’s mouth had found her sweet spot and started to slowly suck at it.

Fred hums against her neck, his hands wrapping around her waist. He pulls her body flush against his, slowly rolling his hips forward so Y/N can feel his hard cock press up against her. “You look so pretty baby. And so, fucking dirty. Grinding against some random bloke while I watch, putting on a show for me.”

Y/N is soaking wet at this point, Fred’s words and actions only turning her on further. She pulls his face away from her neck, unable to contain herself anymore. She presses their lips together messily, moaning as Fred’s soft lips move with hers. Their kiss is uncoordinated, but Y/N doesn’t care. “Need you, Freddie. Need you so bad,” she whines into his mouth.

Fred kisses her for a moment longer before he forces himself to pull away. Y/N’s mouth is intoxicating, and he could spend hours just standing there and kissing her. But his cock is aching and Y/N needs him and he can’t deny her anything.

In the blink of an eye Fred has lead them away from the bar and is pushing Y/N up against the closed door of the women’s toilets. He presses their lips together hungrily as he grabs her thigh, hitching it around his waist to give him access to her core.

Y/N moans into Fred’s mouth as they kiss, his right hand gripping her thigh tightly while the other trails up her other leg towards her pussy. A smirk forms on her lips as Fred’s hand inches closer to where she needs him most, knowing that he’s about to discover her little secret.

“You dirty little slut,” Fred growls as he breaks their kiss. He had planned on teasing Y/N by softly rubbing her clit through her panties, but when he finally reached her folds he was met with her dripping entrance. He rubs her exposed clit with his thumb, causing Y/N to let out a long whine. “Look at you. Trying to fool everyone in your little white dress. Pretending you’re so innocent while your pussy is bare, anyone able to get a glance.”

Y/N is barely able to speak, her breath coming out in hard pants as Fred toys with her clit, his index finger beginning to slowly circle her entrance, just barely letting the tip of his finger enter her heat. She opens her mouth to respond, but a moan comes out instead as Fred finally lets his index finger sink fully into her.

“Is that what you were hoping for? Hm?” Fred asks as he curls his finger, smiling when Y/N clenches around him. “Hoping someone else would get a flash of your sweet pussy? Hoping someone else would notice and get a turn with you before me?”

Y/N shakes her head wildly, her mouth running dry as Fred adds another finger. Her fingers dig into Fred’s shoulders to try and steady herself as his thumb starts to rub her clit harder. “N-no,” she manages to stutter out a few seconds later when she remembers how to speak. “Did it for you. Only for you. Only want you.”

Fred buries his face in Y/N’s neck to hide the blush that has started to tint his cheeks. Even though they’ve never defined their relationship Fred knows that Y/N doesn’t see anyone else while they’re apart and he doesn’t either. But hearing that she only wants him makes him want to say things he’s felt since he was 15 years old. So he presses kisses into the hot skin of her neck instead, because it’s not appropriate to tell someone you love them for the first time while you fingerfuck them in the bathroom of a club.

“’M close,” Y/N breaths, one of her hands leaving Fred’s shoulder to tangle in the hair at the base of his neck. She can feel her climax approaching quickly, and with one more curl of Fred’s fingers against her sweet spot she’s tumbling over the edge, Fred’s name falling from her mouth.

Fred fingers continue their movements, his touch much lighter and slower to help her through her climax. When Y/N’s breathing has somewhat returned to normal Fred slowly removes his fingers and presses one more kiss to her neck so he can look at her face. Her cheeks are flushed red and her lips are swollen.

“God you’re so beautiful,” Fred whispers, kissing her deeply once again. He pulls away a moment later, pressing their foreheads together. He’s painfully aware of how hard he is in his trousers and he grinds against Y/N’s bum, trying to get some kind of relief.

Y/N giggles at Fred’s actions, bumping their foreheads together lightly. “You gonna take me home and fuck me? Or should I go find that bloke from earlier and see if he’ll give it to me?” she teases.

Without another word Fred is gripping her tightly and apperating them away.

-

As soon as they land in Y/N’s flat Fred reattaches their lips, keeping it slow and intimate. Now that the rushed part of their evening is over Fred wants to take his time with her. He moves them to her bedroom slowly, Y/N’s fingers working at the buttons of his shirt.

They reach her bed just as Y/N has worked the last button of Fred’s shirt, and he breaks their kiss so he can lightly push her back onto the bed. He rids himself of his shirt before he crawls over Y/N and reattaches their lips in a heated kiss. He grabs one of her knees and pulls her legs apart, settling in between them.

“Take this off,” Fred demands, his hands tugging at the hem of her dress. “ I wanna see all of you.” As Y/N takes of her dress Fred fumbles with his belt, quickly undoing it before moving on to his trousers. He falls back onto the bed so he can kick the rest of his clothing off, his cock finally getting some relief from its tight confines.

Before Fred can crawl back on top of Y/N she’s straddling his waist. She acts as if she’s going to kiss him, but at the last second she turns her attention to his neck and starts peppering kisses along the exposed skin.

Fred’s hands come up and grip Y/N’s hips tightly. “You’re such a tease.”

Y/N laughs into Fred’s neck as she kisses it, causing Fred to chuckle as well. While there are many parts of a healthy sex life Fred loves and enjoys, kissing is certainly in his top 3; which Y/N is fully aware of. They had once spent over an hour in one of Hogwarts’ secret passageways with Y/N pressed up against the wall as their lips moved together. It was one of the first times they had met in secret, and Fred still gets butterflies in his stomach when he thinks about it. Which he does far more often than he’d like to admit.

Fred lets her kiss and suck at his neck for a few moments longer before he flips them over, causing Y/N to squeal both in delight and surprise. Fred bites at her shoulder momentarily before he starts to peck her lips several times.

“I was gonna ride you ya know,” Y/N says with a soft laugh in between kisses. Fred laughs as well, one of his hands coming up to cup Y/N’s cheek while the other starts to massage one of her breasts, his thumb teasing her nipple. “Fuck, Freddie. Feels so good,” she moans.

Fred pulls away from her slightly so he can look Y/N in the eyes. “You do look exceptionally pretty when you sit on my cock, my love.” Fred pauses, his thumb rubbing her cheek as a pink blush spreads across it. “But tonight, I want- no I need.” Fred’s sentence is cut short as Y/N grabs him by the neck and brings their lips together.

She kisses him slow, letting Fred take the lead and lick into her mouth. Y/N doesn’t need Fred to finish his sentence, she already knows what he was trying to say, because she feels the same way. After an evening full of teasing and putting on a show for each other there’s nothing either of them want more than to be close to one and other.

“Please, Freddie,” Y/N begs as Fred’s fingers begin to pinch at her other nipple.

Without another word Fred hitches Y/N’s left leg up on his hip and lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly with a roll of his hips, both of them letting out low moans. Fred doesn’t stop moving until he’s fully buried inside her, his lips coming up to suck at the skin just below her earlobe.

“Feel so good, baby. Always feel so good. Oh God-,” Fred’s words cut off with a groan as Y/N clenches around him. Fred rests his forehead against hers so he can look her in the eyes. He pulls out of Y/N halfway before he pushes back in, slowly starting to fuck her. “God I love you.”

Before Fred has a chance to regret what he’s said Y/N is kissing him hungrily, her hips moving to meet Fred’s thrusts. She breaks their kiss to let out a whine as Fred’s thumb starts to rub slow circles on her clit in time with his thrusts.

“Merlin that feels good,” she breaths, tilting her chin up to kiss Fred briefly. “Not gonna last much longer,” she moans.

Fred speeds up his thrusts as he hitches Y/N’s leg higher on his hip so that he’s hitting her sweet spot with every thrust. “Me either, love. Come for me baby.”

With a few more thrusts, Y/N is coming, her toes curling and nails scratching down Fred’s back from the pleasure as she moans his name. Her walls spasm and clench against Fred’s cock, helping him to reach his climax. Her moans are cut off by Fred kissing her deeply as he reaches his own high, emptying himself into Y/N.

Fred slows his thrusts down, helping them both come down from their highs, his mouth still moving against Y/N’s softly. After a few final thrusts he slowly pulls out, and rolls onto his back, his hands gripping Y/N’s waist so that she rolls with him and their kiss doesn’t break.

They just lay there kissing for a few minutes, Y/N’s hands tangled in Fred’s hair while his hands rub circles on her hips. Y/N pulls away first, her breathing heavy and her cheeks flushed red. Fred smiles at her and brings one of his hands up to stroke her hair.

They sit there for a few moments in silence, just looking at each other. Fred feels like his heart is about to beat out of his chest as he studies Y/N’s familiar features. After tonight he’s more sure than he’s ever been, he doesn’t want to spend another moment with out her in his life.

“I meant what I said, you know,” Fred says quietly, not wanting to disturb their peaceful moment.

Y/N kisses him briefly. “That I look pretty sitting on your cock? ‘Cause I’ve known that for ages,” she teases.

“Well yes I did mean that,” Fred says with a chuckle before kissing her again. “But that’s not what I was talking about. And it’s okay if you-”

He’s about to say something else, when Y/N lurches forward to kiss him. “I love you too you idiot. Always have.”

-

When Y/N wakes up the next morning and turns over she’s disappointed that Fred isn’t in bed next to her. While they never usually spent the night together, last night had been different and she had fallen asleep last night dreaming of what round three would consist of in the morning.

Y/N is halfway through cursing Fred out in her head when she notices an envelope sitting on the pillow Fred’s head had been cradled against only a few hours ago. She grabs it, letting her finger trace over her name written in Fred’s messy scrawl on the outside before she tears it open.

My flat. Tonight, tomorrow, the day after that and every single day for the rest of forever. 6 pm.

Love you forever and always.

Y/N scans her eyes over the words several times, letting Fred’s message sink in. She smiles to herself as she falls back against her pillows, her hear swelling with more love than she ever thought possible. “Game over.”