#for the sake of everyone whose ever cooked you a meal i hope you would

[blog-of-the-wildd]

i’ll make it 4 words if you don’t mind <3

star of my heart with romantic revalink! thanks!!

Star of my heart

“I’m cold,” Revali said.

Even in Hebra, amidst the ever falling snow and the peaks of ice, the Rito remained warm, covered with feathers. However, Revali lied anyway, expecting Link to decipher the truth under his words.  

The white, delicate feathers that hung over the roost tembled, signaling the beginning of a storm. The wood of the flight range creaked. It was an old structure, built by the Rito of a past long gone. Inside, quiet flames engulfed the cooking pot at the center, warming the place with a comfortable heat. 

Link, making sure their meal cooked appropriately, didn’t reply to Revali, perhaps too absorbed in his task. 

After a moment, he met his gaze, his far-seeing blue eyes unwavering. 

Link had thin sandy hair and a small mouth. His face was dotted with freckles, product of hours spent under the sun. He was of juvenile features, though there was an edge to them. His boyish air hid the truth, for Link was the deathly Hylian Champion.

“Cold?” he repeated, slowly.

Revali looked away, tempted to hide his face under his wings. 

“Cold,” he said. 

Link’s gaze drifted to the pot. He stared at it for a moment, as if waiting for it to tell him what to do. Outside, the wintry gales howled, drowning the gentle crackling of the flames. Yet, as tempestuous as the weather was, the flight range was warm. 

“I’m not,” Link said, gesturing to his clothes. He was clad in the snowquill armour, which was made of feathers. Revali scowled, for he understood what Link was alluding to.

Link sat next to him anyway and, in a gesture that was becoming more natural with every passing day, Revali wrapped a wing around his shoulders. 

Link closed his eyes and leaned his head against his shoulder. Revali raised his wing carefully, caressing Link’s weather-beaten face. Neither said anything, too embarrassed (or comfortable) to shatter the silence. Revali melted into Link’s touch, letting a sort of peace take over him. 

“This is nice,” Link said, his voice barely a whisper. 

“Yes, it’s decent,” Revali said

Link laughed. Revali felt the push of the boy’s giggles against his chest, which made him smile.

 “You are decent,” Link said, lips curled in a goofy smile.

“Indeed I am, unlike some hell-raisers here--”

Link straightened up and looked at Revali with defying eyes. They stared at each other for a couple of beats, the tension purposefully building between them. Finally, Link poked Revali’s chest, eyes bright as if he’d come up with the best insult, “Oh really? Well, you’re dirty.”

Link hadn’t finished speaking when Revali burst into laughter. Link looked confused, expecting Revali to be deeply affected by his words (rightfully so; after all, Revali had a tendency to be offended by the faintest insult). 

“I’m not,” Revali finally said, breathless from laughing, “You, on the other hand, smell unwashed.”

“Unwashed…” Link repeated, a slight frown creasing his forehead. Link looked at Revali, far-seeing blue eyes staring at him. Revali forced himself to look back. “Are you... asking me to take a bath?”

“Yes,” Revali replied mindlessly. Link nodded, eyes hard with resolution, and got up. Revali frowned, reaching a wing in his direction,  “Where are you going?”

Link paid him no mind. He leaned over to check on the cooking pot. Satisfied, he turned to his sword and picked it up swiftly.

“To the lake.”

“Not right now, you dunderhead,” Revali snapped. “The lake is frozen. It's winter.” 

Link’s resolve faltered. He placed his weapon where it had been and sat on the wooden floor, letting his attention slip back to the pot. Revali almost called him back, but he dared not. What would Link think? He would judge him needy and clingy, both adjectives that Revali did not want associated with him. 

He didn’t want Link to know how much--  how important he had become in his life, which was ridiculous because, well, he had. Why hide such an obvious truth? He didn’t know, but when he thought about telling Link, he felt as if tight claws were clutching his heart. 

Maybe he wasn’t ready, which honestly was stupid. Or maybe he was nervous. A love confession is a big deal, after all. It is giving the key of one’s heart to someone, being willing to be vulnerable, and that--

That terrified Revali. 

So he said nothing, watching Link cook their meal with a gentleness he had just recently noticed. Despite all, Link wasn’t a man of war, or, at least, on occasions he didn’t seem to be. His eyes were soft in the quiet moments. 

He was so caught in his web of thoughts he didn’t notice Link approaching him. He held out a bowl of soup, which Revali accepted after a brief hesitation. Link sat next to him, though this time their shoulders barely touched. 

They ate in silence, watching the flames embrace the pot. 

The soup had a sour taste. It was good, though never had Revali eaten something of similar flavour. Link sighed happily and placed his empty bowl on the floor, eyeing him curiously. 

“This is nice,” Link said. Revali looked at him, and to his surprise, a bittersweet smile was curving his lips, as if he were already longing for the present moment. “I never get to-- the life at the castle is so hectic.”

He looked down at his intertwined hands, rubbing his thumbs together. They were calloused, scarred with traces of past battles. Revali wanted to hold them.

“I imagine,” he said. 

“I like it here,” Link said suddenly. He took a shaky breath before continuing, “I like… I like Rito village.”

Even though his lips quivered with nervousness, there was nothing spectacular about his words. Rito village was a tourist attraction for Hylians. It wasn’t a surprise Link found its views fascinating. 

“You like that everyone is willing to invite the hero to dinner,” Revali said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. 

Link looked at him with wide eyes and laughed, the sound sincere and simple. Revali felt his chest tighten, overcome with emotion. 

Eventually, the laughter ceased. An oddly peaceful moment followed. Link wore a loose smile on his lips, though it lingered only for a moment before setting into a neutral, tight expression. Revali ate slowly, savouring his meal. The sun was starting to set, descending into the horizon and casting dim shadows over the land. 

Link extended his hands in front of the flames, seeking its warmth. 

“Why did you hate me?” Link asked, voice small.

Revali looked up, astonishment contorting his face. He opened his beak to say something, but closed it again tightly. Even though he had written in his diary myriads of resentful entries about the Hylian Champion, he had never been asked to speak them out loud. It wasn’t as if-- Revali did not hate Link anymore. He wasn’t sure when his anger had dissipated, but it had. 

It was weird. He knew exactly what had vexed him about Link, and in fact, he still considered his reasoning to be extremely sound. What Revali didn’t have was the drive to despise Link anymore. Instead of hate, a new emotion had found its way to his heart, even more passionate than anger.

“I did not hate you,” Even as the words left his mouth, Revali knew he was speaking bullshit. Link glanced at him, incredulous. Revali merely averted his gaze. What? Would he have preferred the cold, bare truth?  “Do you really care about that when everything has--?”

“I do,” Link said in an outburst of emotion uncharacteristic of his stoic self. He glared at Revali, the icy stare penetrating. They stared at each other for what felt minutes; Revali trying to keep a neutral facade, Link scowling at him.

Link was the first to break eye contact. The spark of fury in his eyes dissolved, and an expression of dullness settled on his face. 

“I do,” he repeated, quietly.

“If you started to hate me again I--” Link gulped and forced himself to continue, voice hoarse, “do you hate me?”

“No. I don’t--” Revali paused, thinking. There were a lot of things he could say to Link. He could apologise. He could open his heart and hope Link wouldn’t turn away in disgust. Or he could… say the truth, even if five words weren’t enough to convey the extent of his feelings.  “I don’t hate you.”

Link looked down. There was no emotion on his face. “A hollow knight,” Revali thought, though he knew better. 

“You are the star of Hyrule,” Revali said, for the sake of filling the silence. “Everyone speaks about how gifted and talented you are. The King--”

Link shook his head. He said something, but his voice was so faint Revali barely heard it. 

Sorry.

“Don’t,” Revali said. “You work as hard as the rest.”

“I’m just-- an assbird,” Revali said. 

Link snorted.

The knot of tension in Revali’s stomach became undone. The silence became lighter, more bearable. Revali finished his meal and gazed to the exterior of the roost, where ruthless gales howled as if they wanted to tear the world apart. Revali frowned, pondering if his gale would ever be as relentless as the ones of nature.

He was determined to make it so.

“I don’t know what Hyrule thinks of you,” Link mused. Revali was tempted to reply he wasn’t thinking hard enough. Hyrule viewed him as a sidekick, a secondary character whose only purpose was to make the leads shine brighter. Sometimes, he even thought Hyrule didn’t think of him at all.

Link placed his hand atop of Revali’s wing, letting his touch linger.

“I don’t know what Hyrule thinks of you,” he repeated quietly, “but… you’re the star of my heart.”

Link smiled nervously, averting his gaze. Revali couldn’t muster an answer, as much as he attempted to. What had that been? Link had never-- had that been a fucking pick up line? No. It must have been a compliment. Link seldom gave them, but it wasn’t discardable. After all, Revali was a skilled archer-- the most skilled of all. 

“Was that good?” Link asked awkwardly. His face was  beet red. He sounded nervous, anxious even. Link fiddled awkwardly with his hands, looking at them as if they were the single most interesting thing in the world. 

Oh.

So Link had been flirting. The realisation didn’t scandalise him. It was as if he knew, not because he was arrogant, but because their relationship had been headed in that direction or a long time. Neither of them dared to admit it, though, and that was okay.

“Link,” Revali said, masking his emotions, “Why did you ask that? It ruined the moment.”

“The Rito don’t blush. How would I know otherwise?”

Revali stared at Link, raising an eyebrow. The Rito, contrary to Hylian beliefs, were an expressive species. If Link didn’t notice the small details, he would have time to do so. They would have time to learn to be with each other.

“It was good,” Revali admitted, almost begrudgingly.

Revali rarely allowed himself to think of the present. His entire existence had been aimed to the future. “Right now I’m nocking the arrow,” he thought to himself, “Someday, I will shoot.”  He only marched forward, for if he looked back, he was scared to see nothing behind him. He had dedicated his life to a success he couldn’t yet grasp. 

But for the first time in a while, Revali let himself just be. 

Outside, the chilly currents blew. The sun had set, and shadows had spilled over Hebra. Link was by his side, looking at him with those piercing eyes of his. 

Revali didn’t love Link, not yet. However, he could love Link. Tomorrow. Someday. The possibility was both exciting and terrifying. If he allowed his emotions to bloom, if he opened his heart, their relationship would flourish. There was no pressure, no goal other than to enjoy each other’s company. They could take it slow, opt for the small steps rather than a leap.

After all, they had time.

[accioecho]

Thank you for translating! It is really hard work to translate. If it is not too much work I was wondering if there were any differences in the dialogue in the scene where Lee Gon cooks for Tae-eul? Or if you could share a little bit what Tae-eul was feeling when he was flirting. Thank you again

Hello dear Nonny, thank you for your message :3 Since a few other people have also asked me about the Kitchen Scene™, h e r e y o u g o ↓ (bear with me, I translated this part a bit hastily so this is a loose translation). 

Under cut because this got long.

“Why are we in the kitchen? Are you planning on making me stay the night here?” Tae-Eul asked, looking around her surroundings.

This was no ordinary kitchen. The plates and tableware that were carefully displayed in several china cabinets looked like they could belong in a museum. Everything seemed luxurious, all the kitchenware of professional grade. The kitchen itself was very sleek and modern, the meat stored in its very own food cellar. So this is what a royal kitchen looked like.

Gon chuckled at Tae-Eul’s easy banter, removed his jacket and placed it neatly on the back of the island stool. He had asked the staff to vacate the premises so that only he and Tae-Eul were left.

“If you’re staying the night, I’ll have you sleep in my bedroom. Now that Secretary Mo knows, almost everyone around me knows about you.”

Gon grabbed Tae-Eul’s shoulders and led her back to one of the chairs. Once he made sure she was seated, he went back to the kitchen counter.

“Let’s eat. Yeong told me that you didn’t eat anything besides a sandwich today. I’m repaying you for the half and half.” Gon said, rolling his sleeves.

Tae-Eul observed Gon moving around, taking out ingredients here and there and putting them on the counter. It was clear from the way he was deftly cutting the vegetables that he knew his way around the kitchen. He heated the cast iron pan before putting in the meat. Soon, the delicious scents of the sizzling steak filled the the room. Tae-Eul didn’t realize how hungry she was until she smelled the wonderful flavors coming out from the kitchen island. She looked at the grilling piece of beef with raptured attention before she met Gon’s gaze.

His lips were curled in satisfaction, obviously proud of himself.

“You didn’t give me money on purpose, right? You knew we didn’t have the same currencies.”

“Right. You don’t have buttons. I didn’t want you to go far away, that’s why I sent Yeong.” He replied cheekily.

“The credit limit was 100,000 won. I borrowed it from him, so pay it back for me.”

“I will.”

“I was traveling around today, and I realized you must have been lonely in my world.” Tae-Eul stated.

She guessed it was one of those things you had to actually experience before understanding how it truly felt. Now she thought of Gon whenever she felt lonely. Because that’s how he probably felt too, back in her world.

Distracted by her words, Gon turned his attention away from the task at hand and looked at her worriedly.

“Were you lonely here?”

“It was frustrating to not have something that could prove my identity. Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

“Would you come here for a second?” The lines of his face hardened, his jaw clenched.

Tae-Eul wordlessly stood up and came up to him.

“Do you need any help?” She asked.

“Look at me.”

A command delivered by a King. Who was wearing an apron.

Tae-Eul tilted her head. Gon came closer and lightly bumped his forehead against hers.

“I want to pat your head, but both my hands are busy”

His deep voice tickled her skin, his nearness eliciting warm, tingly feelings in her.

“It doesn’t seem like your first time.” Tae-Eul mumbled, slightly disconcerted.

“What do you mean? Dating? Why? You didn’t get any results from web searching?”

“Why do you cook so well? I thought you were making me some ramen.” She changed the topic.

“You said it didn’t taste good.”

“It was good. That’s why I didn’t believe that you cooked it yourself.”

“Head Court Lady Noh taught me how to cook. The only food that I don’t need to be tasted is the food I cook myself.”

Tae-Eul took a step away, letting him finish the food preparation.

“I saw you looked it up online. Prince Imperial Geum. And Lee Lim.” Gon went on, voice nonchalant.

Any citizen in the Kingdom knew about the traitor Lee Lim, so it wouldn’t have been hard for Tae-Eul to find out about his uncle or read about the details of that night. If her face was any indication, his guess was right.

“You… seem to have grown into a fine man.”

“I guess that you now know what root you are standing in front of.”

Tae-Eul vaguely stared at the faint scar visible on Gon’s collarbone. It must have been painful, getting that scar. It must have hurt so much. That a child had to go through this brutal ordeal was almost inconceivable. She couldn’t even think about it. Because if she did, she probably wouldn’t be able to handle it. That a relative could kill a child’s father before attempting to strangle that very same child to death.

“It’s my hell and my history that was engraved on my body by the greed of the person that killed my father and strangled me.”

“…”

“This is why I was raised amid my uncle’s worries and Head Court Lady Noh’s tears. And that’s the reason why Lady Noh isn’t nice to you. Don’t be upset about it.”

Tae-Eul had briefly felt the unfairness of Lady Noh’s treatment towards her. She understood why she had acted that way though. Tae-Eul could only nod at Gon’s explanations.

“Is that it? After hearing a story like this, don’t you have to either give me a hug or at least say that you would give me one?”

“Aren’t you going to show me my ID card?” Tae-Eul asked instead.

“Hey, don’t change the topic—“

“I need to go now.” She cut him off.

“I won’t let you go. You have to live here.”

They both knew it though. They had led separate lives so far. An entire universe stood in between them.

Tae-Eul had only spent one— no, two nights in a far-away place where no one else from her world could travel to. If it weren’t for Gon, she wouldn’t even have picked this place as a travel destination.

“I’m serious. I won’t let you go. I can keep you here with just one command.” Gon repeated, each word heavier than the last.

His anguish and frustration was palpable. Feeling completely powerless, Tae-Eul could only let her own sadness flow through her veins, leaving a cold emptiness in its wake.

He was surrounded by so many caring people, people who held him dear, people who worried about him— Yet Gon still felt a deeply rooted loneliness within him.

Whether it was 25 years ago or today, the only person who was able to unburden this heavy load was the one person whose existence made no sense in his world.

Tae-Eul couldn’t help but feel the unfairness of the situation. She had always been Gon’s constant, his zero. Without realizing it, she had started wanting to be his zero as well.

She had no idea where to take things from there. She had no clue about anything about the two of them, yet she knew that whenever she looked at him, whenever she was pulled into his mesmerizing gaze, she could only nod and follow his steps. She wanted to shy away from him and his big, almond-shaped eyes.

He had always been the sharp, dutiful King leading a country for most. But to her, he was an honorable man with a vulnerability that only she could see.

Lost in her thoughts, Tae-Eul noticed that the meal Gon had prepared for her was steaming, small puffs of smoke coming out of the pan. Gon turned off the stove and placed a plate in front of her.

“Take your time. I will show you the ID card after you finish it.”

Tae-Eul grabbed the spoon. She didn’t feel like eating and felt her strength gradually leaving her. She put on a happy face and scooped up a spoonful of the meal Gon had prepared. She would show her appreciation. For his sake.

“Thanks for the food.”

“Steak and rice in a hot pot. It’s my signature dish. Everyone falls for it.”

Tae-Eul didn’t even have to pretend to be enjoying the food. It really was delicious.

“You should ask me whom I cooked it for. I said it to make you jealous.” Gon quipped.

“I can’t beat that person anyway. Whoever she is, that person must be from this world.” Tae-Eul took another mouthful.

It seemed that whenever Tae-Eul spoke her mind freely, Gon’s heart twitched in pain. Reaching in his pocket, Gon grabbed the badge and handed it to her.

“I have been carrying it around ever since you came here. I didn’t show it to you because I was afraid you might leave. But… you’ve already gone somewhere much further away than your world. Take a look.”

The ID card looked a little more worn out than the one that had been recently issued. Everything else checked out. November 11th, 2019. This badge was hers.

“The navy jacket. It’s mine. It’s my ID card. How does this make sense, though? It’s definitely mine. Did you say it’s been here for 25 years?”

“Someone dropped it here. But my memories are fading away. I’m not sure I can recognize that person. But I feel like the person will appear before me at least once.”

“Why?”

“Because that person is either the beginning or the end of all this. It seems like a difficult question to solve, but there must be a simple and beautiful formula for it. And you are the answer I have been looking for. From now on, I will prove it one by one. Whoever it is, and whichever world the person is from, you’ve beat that person. So don’t you decide alone to leave like that.”

Tae-Eul wasn’t sure what moves he was about to make. The boy he used to be grew beautifully into the man that faced her today.

For a short while, they stared wistfully at each other.

Hope. Apprehension. Self-reflection. Solitude.

The room was filled with unspoken tensions and promises.

[fallenrepublick]

If these are still open... can I request a part 2 of our Feral family? Possibly with Maul and his reaction to seeing this other brother of his and also that he actually has a family of his own? We get to see more interaction between Savage and Feral's children as the boys just adore their uncle? While, of course, Feral is making them a nice home meal to let his pregnant wife relax with their coming daughter. I love this family and they shall live on!!

This ended up long as fUck but it was cute, so whatever

Here is the first part.

Warnings: A screwy timeline

“Did I not tell him to stay with the ship…”

Having thoroughly scoped out the land and finding it annoyingly peaceful, Maul had returned to where he had landed with Savage hours later only to find the ship… empty. It was unlike him to wander around anywhere without reason, but even more unlikely that the over two meters tall Zabrak had been captured, especially not by people like these. The only reasonable conclusion, Maul decided, was that something had caught his brother’s eye and he had chosen to follow it.

He turned in the direction of the nearby village, the faces of the houses and buildings obstructed by thick forest life and plants taller than any natural greenery Maul had ever been in the presence of. He trekked forward, unsteady footing slowing down his pace, and pushed through the vines and leaves that blocked his path. Mumbling to himself as he walked, he dearly hoped, for Savage’s sake, that whatever he had followed was worth it.

The forest ended at the edge of the village, loud lively, many residents having taken to the streets enthralled in conversation and tasks, some children running to fro as they played. It hadn’t seemed like Savage had been through there, but then again, one could never be too sure.

As he began walking amongst the people, his vision glazed over the people largely too interested in their own business to notice a stranger traveling within their midst. Faces of various colors blurred together in a haze of surreal memories. He understood, at least a little, the appeal of this planet, the rainbow of appearances that spanned not only through the population but also the environment kept everything interesting, preventing its natives from falling into the dangers of monotony.

The noise of the bustling town didn’t interest him, but one single voice stood out from the others. Though it wasn’t one he knew, there was a strange familiarity to it, as if it was one he was supposed to.

To his right stood a lone house, modest in size, but no less pretty, with multiple figures moving in the front, backlit by the lowering sun. The voice had come from there, light and cheerful, the primary trait an airiness that he hadn’t heard in a long time. Upon venturing closer, hesitance slowing his pace, he could more clearly see the family in question and the source of his curiosity.

Savage stood with the family, arms crossed in deep consideration. Beside him was yet another Zabrak, similar in color, but lighter, soft brown tattoos framing his face less intrusive than his own. He was smaller, younger, more innocent than Maul or Savage, but he held himself assuredly, as if the cruelty of reality hadn’t quite hit him yet. Or maybe it had and he had just chosen to ignore it.

Three children, varying in height, were beginning to be herded together, directed towards the house as the smaller Zabrak continued his conversation.

“-but to this day I still don’t know where the ship came from. But you know how we were, always ready to fight outsiders when the goings got tough!” His laugh was just as cheerful, ringing in everyone’s ears like bells from a clocktower in the mornings. As he spoke, he lightly elbowed Savage, who himself was smiling at his companion, more pleased than Maul had ever seen him.

Though the conversation halted when Maul approached, Savage’s smile fading as he remembered what he had even come for, and Feral’s eyes widening in surprise at the new visitor.

“Is this-” Feral began, gesturing towards Maul, who’s annoyance had faded into simple confusion when he had fully processed the scene in front of him. Savage simply nodded in response, and it wasn’t long that Feral was hurrying over to Maul, a grin plastered on his face.

“We haven’t formally met, yet!” His hand was outstretched, eager to make contact. “I’m Feral. I’m not sure how much you know about me, but I’m your brother!”

Maul took the hand, albeit reluctantly, and nodded. “I’ve heard… only a small amount. Though I was under the impression you were-”

“Dead?” Feral shot Savage a glance. “I might’ve been, if I didn’t have help along the way… Oh well, both of you should come in! I cook around here most of the time, so we can catch up while I feed the monsters.”

Savage smiled at the thought, watching as Feral led them back to the house. Maul however, remained wary, uncertain of how his brother had come to build such a comfortable life while he still struggled to get more than three hours of sleep each night.

“You look so concerned…” Savage mentioned as Maul came up beside him, brow furrowed. “I’ve known him our whole lives. Nothing bad will happen.”

Maul shook his head. “It’s not that. I just don’t understand it. How can he come from a planet like ours and still be able to maintain such… domesticity?”

“Feral was always more tame than the rest of us. I wouldn’t call it weakness, just… an aversion to the violence he was born into.” He stopped a moment, sighing as he watched his nephews race to get into the house first. “I always worried for him, hoping he wouldn’t be targeted as defective if he didn’t adapt to the harshness. He found a way, though.”

Maul said nothing, mind still contemplating the strangeness of it all. He had never considered the possibility of anything other than the power he was raised to believe in, yet here was one of his own kin, living out a life free from that constant struggle. It didn’t sit right.

Still, both followed their brother inside, the children wrestling in the living room and a female Togruta laying on the plush couch. The colors on the interior were light and natural, soft on the eyes and fitting for the natural aura of the village.

Already, Feral had prepared drinks for the company, setting cups on the wooden table outside the kitchen. His brothers sat, Savage visibly more comfortable than Maul was.

The oldest child had seemed to take a liking to Savage, lingering around him as often as possible. He couldn’t have been older than ten, head-tails still very short, encircled by budding horns that were placed more like Savage’s than Feral’s. His skin was a lighter brown, as were the stripes on his head-tails, and he carried himself with more authority than his siblings, prepared to remind him of his elder status at any moment.

“You know,” he said to Savage, leaning forward on the table’s edge, restlessly kicking up his legs. “I’m gonna be like you when I get older. I’m the biggest and the strongest of my brothers, and I’m going to make sure it stays that way!”

“It’s ah… not an easy task…” Savage replied, not wanting to admit that he effectively cheated. Maul snickered. “You’ll have to train for years if you want that to happen.”

“I don’t care!” He leapt up, arms crossing and chest puffing out. “I look kinda like you anyways, so I’m already halfway there!” Well, that’s good, at least he was aware of it.

Feral piped up as he filled a pot with water. “Terren, you’re still not done with school. Please wait until you can long divide before you do that.”

Maul felt something on his leg. It was the youngest, about two, tapping on the metal casing. Rounder and softer in features than his older brother, he was a deep green, like his mother, but the horns that just barely poked out from the area around his head tails bore a strange, uncomfortable resemblance to Maul’s when he was that age. Remarkably curious, he was easy to please as long as he got the answers he sought. And at that moment, he was seeking answers about the being in front of him that he was certain was a droid.

“Fake?” His nails tapped again, harder. Maul didn’t like children in any situation, but what he liked even less was that he found this one mildly charming. He moved his foot back, just to see what would happen, fully expecting the child to cry. But no, he simply scooched himself back with it, gaining an even closer look. “Fake.” He nodded, having determined his hypothesis correct, and placed both hands directly on top of Maul’s foot in confidence.

He really wanted to pick this kid up.

Against his better judgement and personality, he reached down and lifted the child up to eye-level, not sure what he was looking for, yet searching nonetheless. Upon seeing his uncle’s face for the first time, as he was much too small to have noticed it before, the child’s expression hardened into intense concentration. This being was certainly not a droid, and it was unfortunate that now he’d have to go back to the drawing board to discover the truth once more.

“Oh that’s Uta…” Feral said, noticing his brother holding up the young child like a small sack of potatoes. “He’s… a handful.” He laughed as he said it, the sounds of cooking food blending with his smooth voice.

Uta was still frowning, having earned his spot standing on Maul’s lap, and very clearly trying to reason out why he had been tricked before. “Real.” He pointed at Savage. “Real?” He turned to look up at Maul, whose expression was difficult to read. “Fake?”

“It’s about half and half…” Maul offered, hoping to relieve the child of what might’ve been the most stressful situation of his mini life.

“Half-av?” He considered a moment, letting the newly learned word sizzle in his mind a second. Feral tried to choke down his laugh. Uta finally nodded. “Half-av.” The answer was acceptable.

And in came the middle child, mother in tow, who was still discussing an old legend about Nautolans as he entered the room. Stalky and narrow, he was the researcher of the family. He looked most like Feral, with kind eyes turned down at the edges, his mild yellow colors dimmer than his siblings and a slight air of nervousness surrounding him like a cloud, but that didn’t stop him from opening up to his family in ways few would understand or expect. Madin was nodding thoughtfully as she listened to him, pulling out a chair so that she could also sit with everyone else.

“I, for one, don’t understand the Anselmi’s goals in the long run.” He leaned against the table’s edge closest to the kitchen as he finished his explanation. “Oh hey, I’m Forta.” He gave Maul a small two-fingered salute as his introduction.

“Out of the way, out of the way,” Feral chuckled as he waved his kids away with one arm and set down a large serving platter with another. Forta scurried over to Savage’s side, where he marveled at the sturdiness of his uncle’s armor. He began going on about various materials found throughout the galaxy, and was gushing about Beskar, while Terren tried to convince him that no one wanted to hear his boring facts.

Sitting down beside his wife, Feral rubbed Madin’s back while the three boys hurried to their seats across from them.

“You know…” he began slowly, considering the environment. “I didn’t think this sort of thing was possible, getting off of Dathomir… having something more than what we were told was allowed.” He glanced over at Savage, who met his eyes and looked down. “But I get to have all of this… and I’m so glad that you two get to be a part of that now, too. So… I guess what I’m trying to say is… Thank you. For everything.”

[sylvie-writes]

A Unique Birthday Cake

This is for @marvelinsanity . Sua, I wish you the happiest of birthday wishes! I hope you have an amazing day despite our unfortunate circumstances. Ily! Thanks for always being so inclusive and friendly!  

Please send her some wishes tmrw, everyone! She is truly an amazing person! 

I know your birthday is tomorrow, but I just couldn’t wait hehehe. Don’t worry, I’m gonna post your request and a lil something else tomorrow too ≧◡��� 

(I swear I’m done bothering you after that lol)

Please pardon any mistakes, I’m half asleep. 

This morning Wanda and Nat came bursting into your room at the ungodly hour of 7 am. To some, 7 am wasn’t early, but try having a pre-birthday dinner with the Avengers the night before and then we'll talk.

“(y/n) c’mon get up! We are going birthday shopping!”

You tiredly groaned and covered your head with Steve’s vacant pillow, in hopes of shunning the overly-peppy women away. It’s not that you didn’t appreciate their kind gesture, but birthday shopping was the last thing on your to do list, more in favor of getting some shut-eye.

“Nat, Wanda. I love you both, I do, but pleaseeee let me sleep.” Silence now filled the room and you assumed they had gotten the message.

Apparently you thought wrong.

Natasha then pried the pillow from your deathly grip while Wanda pulled back the bed covers, making you shiver, covered in nothing more than shorts and t-shirt. Steve must’ve set the thermostat to polar again.

Not all us can be fine while in the ice for seventy years, sir.

“We got teaaaa.” That’s all it took. Wanda’s tempting offer made you hop up from the bed. You passed them and made a beeline straight for the kitchen, not caring about your messy appearance.

Before you made it four steps out the door, Natasha grabbed you by the shoulders, turning you to look at her and Wanda.

“Oops, forgot to mention you have to get ready first!” Her smirk made you sick, as you scowled at her, pouting like a child on your way to the bathroom, complying to their orders.

“You two are cruel.”

Wanda and Natasha then high fived at their small victory, actually heading to the kitchen to make you tea, for real this time. By 9 am, the three of you had already made it out of the compound and to the bustling and ever famous, 5th Avenue. In all your years spent in New York, not once had you stepped foot on 5th Avenue. When you made your confession to Wanda and Natasha, you were sure they’d die right on the spot. So now, you three giddy women went to all the fancy and exquisite stores, not actually buying but just looking for your own entertainment.

You hadn’t known, but Wanda and Natasha were helping out Steve who was planning his very own surprise for your birthday.

“Guys, be serious.” Steve was now using his Captain voice, he clearly meant business.

“We’re listening, Cap.” Directly across the island counter, Bucky, Sam stood, trying to contain their laughter once more.

“How the hell do we make this cake?” Bucky just lost it at Steve’s truly innocent question. Sam quickly shot his arm out to steady the cackling man.

“Ok, whew. Step aside. Let the pros show ya.” At the confident remark from his friend, Steve stepped aside in surrender allowing the men to do their thing.

If you are wondering how Steve got here, it all started last week.

You were in the compound kitchen, helping Sam prepare a last minute dinner since it was his night to cook. The whole team had just gotten back from a long and draining mission, especially looking forward to a home-cooked meal. Unfortunately, the compound’s pantry was completely desolate, leaving Sam completely clueless as to what to do for dinner that night. Just as Sam was about to dial takeout, you and Steve strolled in. The two of you were now in a much more jovial mood after getting cleaned up and basking in the feeling of being home.

“Hey Sammy, whatcha cookin’?”  

The distressed man then flung you the ragged Chinese menu and a frown made home on your face.

“Hold that thought, because there has to be something.”

When Sam didn’t get the message, you walked up to him and took the phone, ending the call.

“Why’d you do that!”

“Because we will find something to eat.”

While you and Sam had your own staring contest, Steve wandered off to the pantry, checking its contents for himself.

“Hey doll! There’s some bread in here, and a few cans of tomato soup.”

You looked away from Sam and ran to Steve.

“You're a lifesaver, babe!” Swiftly, you pecked him on the cheek, swiping the cans of soup from his arms.

“Now if we have some cheese, I’m sure we can make some grilled cheese sandwiches.” At your appeasing offer, Sam visibly brightened up.  

“Sam, can you start the soup while Steve and I make the sandwiches?”

And needless to say, everything went smoothly, that is until you let Steve cook one sandwich and he burnt it to charcoal.

How that happened, you have no clue.

In the kindest way possible, you let him down gently, because he was trying his best. A sullen look crossed his face and you felt like you had just smacked a baby. Without second thought, you got on tippy toes to deeply kiss him trying to give some reassurance.

“Cooking is a tough science, don’t sweat it, darling.”

So maybe he couldn’t scramble an egg, but he sure as hell would try to learn. With your challenge still fresh in his mind, Steve thought making a birthday cake for you would be none other than the best time to show off his baking skills. That man was never one to cower down from a challenge.

Now here he was, staring at the cake recipe as if he were trying to escape Alcatraz. One word came to Steve’s mind when he thought about either. Impossible.

“You good, buddy?” Bucky looked over to Steve whose eyes were locked onto the piece of paper, clenched tightly in his hand.

“It can’t be that hard right?”

Sam and Bucky just looked at each other shrugging.

“For gosh sakes, you can fight Hydra, but the big scary cake monster is deathly terrifying?”

In mock horror, Sam brought his hands to his face, mimicking a shocked look. Steve just rolled his eyes and playfully slapped Sam on the shoulder.

“Let’s just get this over with.”

That was three hours ago.

In such a short time the men managed to make a complete mess. When Bucky said pros, Steve really should’ve known better.

The kitchen was completely dusted in the white, snow-like, flour. Sugar nestled within the powder while vanilla extract absentmindedly flowed off the counter and to the floor. Up against the oven, Sam slumped over and across from him at the sink, Bucky was trying to wash cake batter out of his hair. Steve just looked in utter shock at the scene, it looked like a war zone, and he’s seen plenty of those.

Oh and the cake…

Can it even classify as a cake?

Because from where Steve was standing, it looked like pizza dough. The whole way through Sam kept reprimanding that it’d look better in the end, decorated in frosting, but my god there was no saving this… creature.

“So about what I said earlier,” Steve looked over to see Sam staring at the ground, obviously contemplating his life choices, “I’d like to revoke my statement.”

Hell, they’d gotten this far.

Steve walked over to the frosting, which, thank the heavens, was store bought. Completely traumatized and absorbed in the whole situation, he just lathered on all the frosting. With a gel icing, he carefully penned out your name and ‘Happy Birthday’.

Really the only thing going for that “cake” was his neat penmanship.

So maybe you were right.

Unfortunately it was too late to order a real cake. Steve would just have to face the consequences and cross his fingers that you wouldn’t break up with him.

By time Wanda and Natasha had ushered you home, it was 4 pm. Today you were just so caught up in all the fun that you completely forgot about Steve which made you feel terrible. Knowing Steve, he went all out for your birthday, you just hoped you hadn’t ruined it.

As you walked into the compound, everything seemed perfectly normal, which quite frankly kind of disappointed you, until you rounded the corner to the kitchen. The lights were off, but soon came on when Sam, Bucky and Steve popped up around the table, presenting a... dough ball????

You got closer and realized it was a cake. Or was supposed to be.

“Please don't break up with me, doll.” Steve nervously bit his lip and you reached up to stop him, then full on laughing, grabbing his broad shoulders for support.

“Oh Stevie! Don’t be so dramatic. I’m actually really looking forward to what happened.”

Steve then pulled out your chair as everyone else settled around the table, where the dough baby idly was set upon.

The three men told of their tale while you ladies laughed over ice cream, a quick solution thanks to Wanda.

Sam and Bucky continued to tell their more animated version of the story, while Steve leaned close to you, wrapping his muscular arm around your waist with lips pressed to your temple.

“Happy Birthday, Sweetheart.”

[askthefamous8]

Hi. I wonder how was the first date, James and Edward (sorry for mistakes in text, I use the translation). P.S. This is the best and beautiful couple

Alright so I ended up writing way more than I initially meant to (I’m so sorry) so I’m putting it under a read more. Here’s Edward and James’ first date. Also wow, this ask was sent almost exactly 3 years ago. May 2, 2017. Yikes. but uh..hopefully this makes up for it?

James was eager to impress Edward and arranged their date to be at a rather fancy restaurant. On paper, everything should have gone perfectly. Fine dining and good company (James was on his best behavior, of course). Everything went as expected and they met at the restaurant. James, for once, had planned ahead and booked them a table! “Reservation for Álvarez,” he’d said, giving Edward a smug little side glance. For most people this wouldn’t be remarkable as it makes perfect sense to book a table in advance,  but for James it was a notable effort.

As I said, everything was going as perfectly as it could. Inside James was nervous as all hell but he was disguising it remarkably well. They ordered their food– James requesting no asparagus and Edward requesting no tartar sauce, Edward selected the wine, and they snacked on some authentic-looking breadsticks. The conversation never dwindled into an awkward silence and the their main course arrived in the middle of Edward recounting a particularly amusing incident with Henry from some years ago.

A few minutes after they’d begun eating, Edward appeared thoughtful. He excused himself to use the restroom, leaving James at the table. James had a moment of insecurity, but assured himself that, surely, Edward is far above ditching someone in the middle of a meal. Everything’s fine. Five minutes went by. Then it was ten. Then it was fifteen. At the thirty-minute mark, James, whose temper was rather short even without first-date anxiety wearing down the fuse, was caught perfectly in between fury and despair. Was Edward hoping James would give up and leave? Had he ran out while James wasn’t looking? The food was cold, the wine bottle was empty, and James’ patience had dried up completely. He stood up and went to see if Edward was even in the bathroom. He’d probably left, leaving James with a fat bill when he lived in a one-bedroom flat while Edward lived in a cushy three-bedroom house. Of all the inconsiderate-

And then he found him. Or at least, he saw his shoes. And his legs, in the pitiful position one takes when one is at the mercy of one’s very upset stomach. James knocked on the stall door, any anger replaced by mellow confusion and a bit of concern.

“…Edward?”

The ever-unpleasant sound of someone– Edward– retching into the toilet.

“You, uh… You alright?”

“No,” was the exasperated reply, punctuated with a groan, then a gag. There was a quiet click, and the stall door hung open slightly. James stepped forward and peeked in. There was Edward, indeed pitiful, clutching the toilet. He flushed and the ex-contents of his stomach vanished from sight.

“Jesus, Edward, what happened?”

Edward sighed wearily, not looking at James. “I, um... I’m lactose intolerant..........severely. Lactose intolerant.”

James thought for a moment, realizing that, wow, now it makes sense why Edward always very firmly denied having any ice cream on common room movie night. James quickly pushed the thought away, almost embarrassed at such a sidetracked observation.

“Why didn’t you say something?”

“I didn’t think...” Edward gagged. “It was relevant information. I asked for no t-“ he gagged again. “The...the fish sauce, but there must have been milk in the mash. And...” He sighs again, glancing back at James. “It’s something I’m a bit self conscious about. I’m not sure why.”

And there’s the first awkward silence of the evening.

After what feels like an eternity (it was only 10 seconds) James asks if there’s anything he can do. Edward replies weakly, “Just take me home.”

With those four words James felt his heart completely deflate, and he could almost swear he physically felt any chance he had with Edward go down the toilet.

“Call a taxi or something...”

James leaned against the stall wall and sighed, folding his arms. “I don’t have any cash.”

“Oh god-“ Edward retched again, though nothing came out. “Neither do I.”

James thought for a moment. He knew what he had to do but Edward wasn’t going to like it. “I’ll be right back.”

So James leaves, Edward locks the stall again, and slumps himself over the toilet. He was much too tired to care what trouble James might get himself into. Well, not so tired that he didn’t care, but he didn’t have the strength to physically do anything. So he just stayed there, willing his stomach to settle.

And then... he hears some shouting? Was there a fight? Perhaps some patron who’d had too much to drink. Edward closed his eyes. It wasn’t his problem.

Except it was.

Suddenly he realized it was James’ voice he heard, somewhere distant in the restaurant, though he couldn’t understand every word: “... everyone! I hope you’re listening! ... in the toilet puking his guts up right now! ... don’t look at me like that, he had what you’re having!”

Oh god, what is he doing? Edward thinks. He hears a loud crash, the sound of glass breaking, and someone else scream. Oh for god’s sake–

Edward forces himself up, praying to a god he wasn’t sure he believed in that he’d be done vomiting for the night, and stumbles out the door.

“See?? Look at the state he’s in!”

And the eyes of every patron in the restaurant were on Edward. He surveyed the room– as best he could anyway, he was still a little dizzy. James appeared to be in a fierce argument with someone Edward could only assume to be a manager of some sort. Next to him was an upturned table– it appeared to have been unoccupied at the time, thankfully. Edward mournfully connected the dots in his head.

James rushed to Edward’s side, adding a rather dramatic flair to his voice. Whether he also meant to sound a bit drunk is up for debate. “You see what your food has done to this poor pathetic soul?”

The manager was very red in the face at this point. “Look, if you want a refund-”

“KEEP YOUR DIRTY MONEY!” James shrieked.

The manager seethed. “I was going to say, you hadn’t payed for your dinner, yet. We can’t offer you a refund.”

James paused. Edward wished he was invisible. In fact, a small part of him wished that the god he wasn’t sure he believed in would bless him with a heart attack right there on the spot. The restaurant was utterly silent. Somewhere a baby cried.

James cleared his throat. “Are you going to call us a taxi or not?” He could see a vein bulging on the manager’s forehead.

“Anything as long as it’ll get you out.”

And so, the manager called a taxi and some nice strong men escorted them outside to wait. James’ plan had worked, even if he’d gone perhaps a little too far. Flipping a table was perhaps a tad bit unnecessary, but he didn’t really mean to. It was some of the anger and frustration he was feeling from the disastrous date he’d just been on. If it wasn’t his fault before, it certainly was now. Just like everything else that goes wrong in his life, right?

Thankfully, Edward didn’t vomit again for the rest of the night. He had terrible stomach cramps on the drive home, which James wished he could have helped, but couldn’t, so he was silent.

After a very pitiful drive home (the taxi driver could not take a hint and kept trying to make small talk with the men in the backseat, not seeming to notice that one of them was holding a hand to his mouth and burping every other minute), James walked Edward to his doorstep. He helped him inside, to his room, and into bed. Edward passed out moments after he hit the bed. James, who was feeling very awkward, having never been in Edward’s bedroom before and was now technically watching him sleep and oh my god that’s so creepy-

“James?”

James nearly shrieked again but managed to stifle it. Startled out of his little trance he swiftly departed the room and closed the door. Bill and Ben were in the hallway, having come downstairs for a late night snack, but now facing a near-stranger in their home.

“What the hell are you doing here?” “You were Edward’s date????” “What did you do to him???”

“I didn’t do anything!” James whispered harshly. “He didn’t tell me, or the waiter, that he’s lactose intolerant. If police come to the door asking about property damage just tell them it was his date and I’ll pay for it later.””

“Police??” “Property damage??”

But James had already left. Edward didn’t come into to work the next day, but James was secretly glad. He didn’t want to have to face him today. Or the next day. Or ever, preferably. In fact, maybe it’d be better if James just left the country. He doubted Edward would ever want to speak to him again.

But when Edward returned to work, he looked as neat and tidy as ever. James couldn’t get the image of him slumped over a toilet out of his mind, but he was starting to succeed in convincing himself he’d just imagined it. He’d imagined the whole date, in fact! It was just a bad dream. Nothing is real!

You would think such a date would make someone like Edward run a thousand miles in the opposite direction. James did, anyway. But actually, when Edward returned, he had something to say to James. While the table flip was, indeed, very unnecessary, he realized that he only did it because he was trying to get Edward a ride home. It was sweet. In a violent, somewhat drunk sort of way. What he meant was, it was clear that James cared.

“So I thought I’d offer dinner again. But at my house this time. I’ll cook, and I’ll make sure Bill and Ben stay out of sight.”

James felt like Satan himself had reached up, grabbed him, looked him over, tutted and gone, “hm, not yet,” and went to throw him back to Earth, but overshot and launched James into Heaven itself.

What I mean is that James felt blessed to get a second chance.

Edward tried to return to the restaurant the following week to pay for their dinner, but he was met with a polite, but very stern, notice that he was now banned from this restaurant chain until he paid for the damages caused by his boyfriend.

By reflex Edward started to correct the polite but very stern man, but stopped himself. Hm. James, my boyfriend, he thought to himself. Then he smiled. What a funny thought indeed.

He’d pay for the damages later.

[aesop1]

clumsy [2]

pirate!chanyeol x reader

a/n: im back! and pleasantly surprised to see that my story actually got notes! thank you to everyone who read it, i appreciate you all so much! ahh!

word count: 3.2k

warnings: some more cursing

(i do not own gif)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

--------------------

a living hell chanyeol did attempt to make of your life, and a living hell chanyeol failed to make of your life. he at first assigned the most useless of tasks to you, the first being scraping the barnacles off the sides of the ship, which resulted in you stumbling off the suspended seat and into the ocean. sehun was forced to fish you out afterwards. the next task was swabbing the deck, which also resulted in you falling into the ocean somehow and sehun rescuing you. chanyeol, desperate to have you complete just one awful assignment he's given you even told you to just watch for land, specifically telling you to look out west (where there was no land for miles). he'd had hoped you would stand there in the brutal sun for hours, but within minutes you were back in the ocean.

"for fuck sakes, chanyeol, give her a job away from the deck," sehun chattered out, shivering as junmyeon wrapped a cloth around him for the third time that day.

"she could polish the canons," jongin suggested, quirking his head to the side for confirmation from his captain.

"she could be in charge of supply management and just write down everything we have laying around on the ship." yixing added in.

"none of those are agonizing enough," chanyeol muttered out, rubbing his chin in thought.

"she could prepare dinner with kyungsoo in the kitchen." everyone turned to jongdae as he spoke, and then to kyungsoo's outraged expression.

"no, I refuse to have that buffoon anywhere near my kitchen," kyungsoo spat out, lowering his voice in case the girl tied to the mast of the ship overheard his aggression.

"that's actually a brilliant idea, jongdae," junmyeon agreed, looking over to chanyeol who was considering the proposition. "it's away from windows and ledges."

"do we know if she's any good at dealing with knives, though?" minseok brought up.

"she worked in a diner with her father." chanyeol explained.

"so put her in the kitchen." yixing agreed.

"look, chanyeol," baekhyun stepped forward, a hand on his captain's shoulder. "we know you're trying to be all intimidating and everything, but let's be honest: her clumsiness is beating you ten fold. just dump her in the kitchen, being around kyungsoo is torture enough--"

"excuse me?" kyungsoo questioned, his cold, dead eyes glaring at baekhyun who continued to speak.

"-- and we'll call it a day, okay? I don't think sehun can handle another rescue mission."

"he's right, I can't," sehun concluded.

"okay fine," chanyeol sighed out. "kyungsoo, she's with you from now on. everyone, back to your stations."

---------

you were sat in the corner of the kitchen on a barrel watching kyungsoo work away at the stove. you were interested, cooking always being a pastime your father and yourself took part in, and his departure did nothing to sway you from your intrigue. kyungsoo definitely was no novice when it came to cooking, his techniques proving his expertise. you didn't know what he was concocting over there, considering he hasn't spoken a word to you since you entered his domain. not that you minded, after three falls into the ocean, you were spent for the day. you could only imagine how sehun must be feeling right now.

kyungsoo finally turned around, shuffling in your direction, yet not acknowledging you. he grabbed some items from the shelves beside you before finally looking at you.

"I need the potatoes that are in that barrel," he explained, pointing to your seat. wordlessly, you hopped off while he scavenged through for multiple potatoes. glancing over to you, he pooled the potatoes in his arms like a swaddled child. "you want to help?" you nodded vigorously, your drowsiness washing away instantly at the prospect of getting back into your routine, just one constant from your previous life. side grinning and nodding over to the counter, he guided you over to his workstation. "I need you to peel and dice these potatoes for me. you up for it?"

"I think I can handle," you snorted. within minutes of being handed the knife, your task was completed and you awaited further instruction from the chef. kyungsoo was visibly taken aback, but chuckled nonetheless.

"alright, that was impressive, I'll give you that." sliding over some more vegetables, he instructed you to dice more, and again you finished before he could even think of what to give you next. in less than 5 minutes, you already acquired your first acquaintance on board.

an hour later, you were both preparing the dinner table, laughing away at the inside jokes you've established together in the kitchen. your giggles halted when jongin entered the dining room. he looked between you two suspiciously before turning to kyungsoo.

"jongdae wanted to know how much longer until dinner?" he asked in a low voice, as if telling a secret to only kyungsoo. kyungsoo's eyes darkened again in irritation and he glared up at his shipmate.

"every night you come in here with a new name, and every night I say the same thing: it'll be done when it's done. now tell jongdae to get back to his duties and to stop pestering me." with a nod and a chuckle, jongin walked out with a hop in his step.

"are you all always this aggressive to one another?" you let out. kyungsoo continued to set plates down and shrugged. "it's just, you all live on the same ship, you all have the same or at least similar desires. I would think you were all like brothers. from the few hours I've been on board, I haven't seen any signs of brotherly love from you all."

"well like you said, we're always together. that's why we act this way to one another. we get sick of each other after a few days out on sea with no escape in sight." he then sighed and looked up, leaning against the ship and grinning. "we do love each other, though. nothing will change that."

a comfortable silence settled in the room and soon, kyungsoo called everyone in.

---------

at the dinner table was the first time you saw their dynamics together and were thoroughly shocked to find these ruthless pirates were so... rambunctious; almost childlike in a sense.

kyungsoo beamed at every little thing baekhyun did, and baekhyun went above and beyond to try and make him laugh. jongdae and jongin were constantly whispering and giggling between each other. junmyeon treated sehun as if he were a toddler, instructing him to wipe his face when needed or to eat something he hadn't piled onto his plate already. minseok and yixing were among the most silent, merely observing their shipmates and giving reactions when needed.

chanyeol was another story entirely. he never spoke one word to the crew around him that night. his arm circled his dish like a predator guarding it's prey from others. he was brooding in every aspect of the word, and the fact that he never took his eyes off of you hadn't helped his case.

it was a near glare, the iciest you've ever seen a gaze been. his locks shadowed his eyes just subtly, giving a hooded and hostile look. you avoided his stare as best you can, pretending like it wasn't affecting you, yet your instinctive recoiling into your seat gave away your clear discomfort. his smirk went unnoticed to your frenzied mind as he was then distracted by jongin beside him.

"kyungsoo told me your stowaway is actually very impressive when it comes to knife wielding."

"is that so?" chanyeol turned in your direction, head cocked to the side in a taunting manner. looking down at your food, you avoided the rhetoric question revolving you. never had you felt so small in someone's presence. chanyeol trumped you like a beanstalk, and you were jack. something in your mind clicked, and you felt the urge to not climb that beanstalk. instead, you were going to chop it down before events escalate.

willing yourself to look up, you glared right back at chanyeol, pursing your lips into a thin line and scrunching your brows together.

"yes, it is," you responded matter-of-factly. "I've been in the kitchen my whole life. I know how to handle a knife or two." he tongued his cheek, a habit of his you've come to realize shows his evident frustration in a matter. leaning further into the table, he threw an arrogantly boyish grin, jaw slack and lifted in your direction.

"could you ever kill a man with a knife?" your eyebrows frowned at the question, a slight grimace seeping into your expression. no, you could never kill a man. you were tenderhearted, a trait you've always lived with. hearing about a neighbor's grandfather who you've never met once in your life brought tears to you. you couldn't imagine yourself standing over someone, their blood staining your hands.

your silence was apparently enough for chanyeol, who snickered and stabbed his fork back into his meal as if ending the conversation. with a tick of your jaw and the narrowing of your eyes, you brushed off the weariness imbedded in you.

"if I must." your outburst attracting everyone's attention. "preferably, it'd be one man in mind whose blood I'd voluntarily shed." your blank stare at him was clear for everyone, who quickly went back to eating, leaving you two in whatever competition had conjured up with your exclamation.

--------

you were to sleep amongst crew members at all times. you were currently housed with sehun and jongin in their room, a drab thing about half the size of chanyeol's quarters. two wooden beds lined the walls, both seeming obscenely small for the two giants. you sat at the useless chair in the corner as they both prepared for bed, disregarding your presence entirely. you paid no mind to their infernal blabber, far too preoccupied in trying to find the sweet spot to sleep in the stiff chair.

"mermaids aren't real, sehun," jongin had sighed out, laying back on his pillow.

"I'm not saying that they are real," sehun answered protectively. "I'm just saying that it's a possibility." exhaustion had found you easily, and you were already dozing off after a long day. "we reach land next week, right?"

"I think so. probably."

you attempted to keep yourself conscious to continue hearing their conversation, but you were too far gone, completely fading away into slumber within the second.

-------

"so do you just intend to keep her as a crew member?" junmyeon leaned against the wall, observing chanyeol who sat at the end of his bed. "this is a new frontier for you. you usually kill people before you learn their name."

silence lingered in the atmosphere, chanyeol staring down at the planks making up the floor of his room.

"chanyeol," yixing sat beside him, wrapping an arm around the man's shoulders. "talk to us. we're not just your advisors, we're your brothers. tell us what's bothering you." chanyeol clenched his jaw and clutched the material of his pants.

"that girl," he spat out, a look of rage mixed with disgust tainting his facade. "she... she..." he took a shaky breathe, arms trembling with vexation. "never... has anyone... threatened me like that." he stood and marched to his desk, dragging his arms along the surface and knocking every item to the floor. junmyeon and yixing cringed at the resounding crash that filled the room as a result. "SHE THINKS SHE CAN INTIMIDATE ME?" chanyeol shouted to the two beside him.

"chanyeol, calm," junmyeon grabbed his shoulder, digging his fingers into his skin to bring the man back to reality. "we reach land next week. you can deal with her then."

"that's the thing," chanyeol leaned against his now barren desk, staring out through the window in front of him. "I have no fucking idea what to do with her."

"well what are your choices?" yixing asked. "you can let her go at the port. you can kill her." he grinned inwardly, once he began realizing where chanyeol's predicament resided. "you can keep her." junmyeon turned to yixing, his eyebrows furrowed at yixing's proposition. "as a crew mate... or as your personal play thing."

"what are you blabbering about?" chanyeol grumbled, rubbing his temple.

"it's a normal thing for great pirates to have women in their crew. there are no rules discrimi--"

"you know what I fucking meant," chanyeol turned, brushing off junmyeon's hand and glaring at yixing. "whatever. I've made up my mind. I'm just going to drop her off at port. she'll probably kill herself in due time when she realizes she has no one and nothing to her name."

the door to his room burst open, revealing a stoic kyungsoo who entered the room and stood before the enraged captain.

"you're a fool," kyungsoo seethed. "for thinking she'd ever kill herself, and for giving her up that easily."

"what are you doing here, soo?" junmyeon bristled.

"you've grown on her in less than a day," chanyeol responded, his voice more mellow now to conceal his confusion.

"I have, I will admit that. she's not as weak as you think she is. she fell off a damn roof, survived three falls into the ocean, and had the bravery to stand up against the pirate who killed her father. she's resilient, chanyeol, and if you can't see that, then you're not the great captain I once thought you were."

"I didn't kill her father," was the only thing that chanyeol thought to say at the end of kyungsoo's speech. with that, kyungsoo shook his head, a smile of disbelief spread across his face. without another word, he left the room.

--------

you awoke to the sounds of whining and shuffling sheets. delirium had made itself present in your sleep muddled mind so you struggled to process your atmosphere. it wasn't until a soft, yet frightened "no" shocked you awake. clearing your blurred vision, you spotted a figure tossing around in bed, tangling himself more and more by the second. you stumbled over to the bed, yanking at the sheets and quietly shushing the frantic man. finally unravelling the blanket, you patted his face, still murmuring reassuring coos to him. with a jolt, he woke up, breath ragged as if just finished running a marathon.

"yn?" sehun gasped out, still in a panicked state. "what are you doing here?"

"you were having a nightmare," you answered, still holding his cheek.

"okay? and?" he was becoming more irritated than frightened, so you assumed that was a good sign. sighing, you pulled back the sheet and laid beside him, causing him to shrink back against the wall. "what are you doing?"

"sleeping beside you. you had a nightmare."

"what does that have to do with any of this?" he hissed out, his irate facade evident in the darkness. "waking me up, invading my bed, what is your motive?" squinting your eyes, you tried to find any evidence of him lying, yet he seemed genuinely displeased.

"have you never had someone hold you after a nightmare?" you whispered out in disbelief. his eyes faltered, trying to retain their malefic glower. you placed the sheet over his slightly trembling body, opening your arms to him. hesitantly, he scooted closer, as if unaware of what you were trying to insinuate. wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you brought him into your person, allowing him to melt in your embrace. the next few minutes were silent, and you swore you felt a tear hit your collar bone, but you weren't too sure. all you knew was that his breathing grew heavier and his body went slack, falling back to sleep before your eyes.

------------

you were jostled awake the next morning, detangling yourself from the giant next to you. turning over, you had every intention to confront your assailant.

"kyungsoo?" your aggression faded away, sighing to yourself as you sat up and faced your friend. he grinned before nodding his head towards the door.

"we have to prepare breakfast," he explained softly so as to not wake the other two.

you trailed behind him, through the long corridor of rooms and up to the deck.

"how are you holding up this morning?" he asked once entering the kitchen.

"I'm surviving." he hummed in agreeance at your words and set forth prepping breakfast. a comfortable silence settled between you two, but you felt he still had more to say. you didn't want to push him to speak. you haven't been this close with someone in ages, and you've only known him a day. you felt that had to speak for itself; how accustomed you were to his presence in such a short span. you appreciated his calming aura. he was perhaps the first person to not let your rather apparent flaw affect his perception of you; especially after your many incidents yesterday. you had almost completely forgotten he was a pirate, your worst fear since your adolescence. deciding to change your perception of pirates, you cleared your throat to alert him of your conversation starter. "so tell me about your life. where you've travelled, how long you've been on this ship, when you first started cooking. I want to know everything."

afraid you might've gone too far, you stared down at the stove, the meat you were instructed to cook sizzling away on the stone pan. your hopes sparked within you at the gentle laugh resonating from your friend. turning over to him, you found the rare yet bright, heart-shaped grin which adorned his face.

"alright, I'll tell you about myself," he started, placing down the bowl he had been mixing. "but for every question I answer, you answer one of mine."

you were sure you never smiled wider than at that very moment.

----------

breakfast had a completely different ambience to dinner. maybe it was the exhaustion which ensues with early mornings, or maybe it was just they had gotten rid of all of their rowdiness overnight. what you did know was that it was almost eerily calming. you sat between sehun and kyungsoo. sehun was silent towards you, but you could tell he was trying to show his gratitude. kyungsoo spoke to you and baekhyun all morning, causing you to grow closer to the other man. you didn't really acknowledge the rest of the crew, too distracted by baekhyun's incessant jokes and impressions. sehun joined in with the comedian across from him, bouncing jokes back and forth and nearly causing kyungsoo to choke.

you had assumed your day would continue as well as it had started, but chanyeol's appearance already left you in a sour mood.

"after cleaning, come find me on the deck for what you're to do next," he instructed, standing and leaving the room. cruel and near deadly thoughts circulated through your mind, causing your blood to boil as you assisted kyungsoo in cleaning the dishes. once done, he patted your back and gave you a pitiful grin before you headed towards the deck.

"chanyeol?" you called out, finding a barren ship. it was a cool morning, winds from the seas knotting your already tangled hair more, yet forgivingly stroking your exposed neck and face. you may have been slightly distracted with the lovely weather because you hadn't even noticed the stray rope tied into a loop obscuring your direction. the minute your foot had stepped in it and accidentally dragged it with you, you were yanked back aggressively. with a yelp, you tumbled to the floor, knocking your head against the floorboard and successfully throwing you in yet another state of unconsciousness.

[gytech]

Apathy of a Broken Heart

This is to @theflagshiparkos , you wanted Hurt and Comfort with romance, and Hurt and Comfort is a bad subject since I love silly and funny. Haha. But this had been an idea that I never got to try out before, and it turned out great! I hope you enjoy it. :)

Special thanks to my friend @unashamed-shipper for proofreading correcting errors.

———-

Sorry, Natsu, mom is calling me. I gotta go!” Wendy said with a slight frown before she reached for the power button and turned off their Skype chat. The familiar sound of the connection ending filled Natsu’s ears for a moment before it came back to the white background and various message bubbles of their conversations.

Natsu gave a small sigh before reaching forward to close his laptop. He was clad in his normal school uniform for the day, with the exception of his scarf. He looked around his room, and dry chuckle left his mouth for a moment.

Their parents always encouraged them to pursue their own hobbies, and unlike his sister whose room had been full of ocarinas and tailoring supplies and books on medicine, Natsu’s was full of small things. He had a small collection of games he loved, a small shelf for cooking books, and a small rack for medals that he had earned from when he did boxing.

These were things he had prided himself in doing, and despite these achievements, things still didn’t get better for him. He did everything he was told, she did everything she was told.

And yet things still didn’t work out…

Giving a sigh, Natsu grabbed his bag and departed without saying a word.

———

“Hey Lucy, wanna head to the arcade tonight?”

Lucy sighed and shook her head gently before looking up at what seemed like the fifth guy this week to ask her out. Ever since she transferred to this school she had been the subject of someone’s conversation because of her looks, and the uniform didn’t help people’s reaction to her. Every other day a guy would try and score with the ‘bombshell of a babe’.

Giving a sigh, she put on a small smile before shaking her head. “No thank you. I have plans tonight.”

Thankfully this man had taken her declination well and simply gave a nod before walking away. Lucy had always been able to take the polite ones much better, plus it meant she didn’t have to use her Lucy kick that she had to use on the ones who got aggressive or groped her.

“Another broken heart,” Lisanna giggled as she ate her salad in front of Lucy. Her blue eyes were sparkling slightly from the amusement. “I have to say, it’s great to have you in this school, it means fewer guys but on me.”

Lucy sighed heavily before she went back to eating her sandwich with an unamused expression. “I’m so glad to be of help.”

“You could be better with the sarcasm.”

Lucy’s eyes widened as she looked to her left to see a familiar boy, and he happened to be her classmate alongside Lisanna. Though he usually wore a smile, her heart sunk slightly when she noticed the scowl that was implanted on his face.

“Oh um, hey Natsu,” she said, her brown eyes curiously glanced at him. She then scooted to the side a little bit before she continued her train of thought. “Are you having lunch with us today?”

“Nah, I kind of want peace and quiet for once in my life,” he said with a small sigh before he turned around and began to walk towards the hallway.

Silence fell between the two young women, and the only sounds that were made were never-ending chatter that echoed through the classroom. Lucy turned from Natsu and looked at her half-eaten lunch and thought to herself.

Normally Natsu was talkative and would ramble about the newest recipes he had cooked. Or he would talk about his upcoming fight or even just invade Lucy and Lisanna with personal questions. But today he had just been quiet, and actually focusing on his school work.

“Hey Lisanna, do you have any idea what’s wrong with Natsu?” Lucy asked with a small frown. “I know I haven’t been in the school for long, but I’ve never seen him like that.”

Lisanna shook her head before she rested her head on her palm. “Not that I can think of. He hasn’t told me about any of his issues as of late.”

Lisanna’s blue eyes looked down at her salad, her fork playing with green leaves as she continued to speak. “His dad is well off as a businessman, and his mom is a doctor. They divorced about a year ago, and so his mom and sister now live a few hours away.”

Lucy’s eyes widened slightly before she took a small nibble from her sandwich. “Do you think that might be what is upsetting him?”

Lisanna gave a shrug. “It’s possible. I’ve never heard him grieve over it, to be honest. But Natsu has never been the type to talk about his issues unless it’s with his fists.”

Lucy gave a small nod before taking a bite from her meal. Her mind thinking about how to help Natsu out…

_______

“Ughhh, Who the heck is it?” Natsu grumbled as he walked toward his front door. All he wanted to do was cook some udon and just go lay down in his bed. He had the apartment to himself all weekend for Pete’s sake.

“Look I don’t want-“

Natsu’s words were cut off at the sight of the blonde beauty before him. The golden hair that was normally tied up was flowing freely, and she had her normal heart-shaped earrings on. Her school uniform was replaced with a white strapless top with a black pleated mini skirt. To top off the whole thing was black thigh high stocking with black shoes.

What was even more strange was the two large pizzas that she had in her hands.

Natsu’s eyes looked at Lucy with shock before he gave small sigh and he put his hands in his pockets. “Hey Lucy, what’re you doing here? Did you need something?”

The young girl gave a small smile before shaking her hair, her long locks swaying gently alongside her movements. “Nope, I’m just here for our date.”

“Date?”

“Yup! Everyone has been annoying me about going on dates with them, and I think it keeps people at bay if I dated you.” Lucy said with a small smile as she stepped inside before he could even stop her. “You should feel honored!”

As she made her way to the living room, Natsu simply looked at her with disbelief before he gave a sigh. He knew it would be pointless to argue against her.

“Well, I guess a free meal is always good,” he mumbled to himself before following her.

—————

Hours went by as the two ate pizza and watched anime, occasionally the two would discuss the show and throw in a snarky comment. But other than that, they were silent.

Lucy smiled as they continued onto season two. So far it was going well, she had asked Lisanna about what kind of clothing would be good for the date, so she picked something cute yet flattering. It also helped that Natsu hadn’t argued with her idea to have this date to begin with, and it seemed to be working too! He was starting to be his usual self again…

“Man that, that Ling sounds exactly like you,” Lucy observed with a small giggle, her hand reaching forward to get another slice.

“No way! I’m way cooler than that guy!” Natsu shot back with a small laugh.

“I don’t know, you both have a ton of ambition–not to mention you both eat like horses. I think it’s a good fit,” Lucy said, her giggling not ceasing.

Natsu simply laughed before looking down at the pizzas boxes, and for a brief moment, Lucy caught a glimpse of sadness wash over his face. Her heart sunk at the sight. It seemed like distracting him from his sorrows wouldn’t be enough–Lucy knew that far too well when it came to the bad relationship she had with her father. No, Natsu needed to talk about this if he was going to move forward.

“Hey Natsu,” Lucy began, reaching for the remote to turn off the television. Her voice, soft and gentle. “Are you doing okay? Lisanna told me about your parents.”

Natsu’s head shot up, and his once slouched posture became stiff and straight at Lucy’s question. His eyes were wide with surprise and he subconsciously clenched his hand. She couldn’t tell if he was actually shocked, or if he was feigning his surprised expression. But either way, she continued.

“She told how your dad and mom split up about a year ago, and how your mom and sister now live far away,” she said, her gaze not leaving. She then scooted towards the pink haired teen and she gently laid a hand on top of his. “Has it been bugging you today?”

“What makes you say that?” Natsu answered hoarsely.

“Because you’re not being yourself is why. You’re usually energetic, you love to prank me and Lisanna any chance you have, and today you’ve done none of those things. I know that’s not a coincidence Natsu,” Lucy countered, her brown eyes glossing over with concern. She squeezed his hand gently before bringing it to rest on her leg.

“I’m fine Lucy, okay? I’ve just had a bad day.” Natsu insisted with a sigh, his tone becoming more unamused as he tried to tug his hand free. “I just want to continue the show and relax.”

“That’s not going to solve this Natsu,” Lucy scolded him. “That kind of pain doesn’t go away with distractions and stubbornness. It goes away by talking.”

Natsu glared at her, his own eyes glossing over. He grunted and once again tried to pry his hand from Lucy’s iron grip, only have it remain in place.

Lucy’s heart was beating rapidly as she watched him try his best to keep his composure and force all his pain back down where it was locked up. It, in turn, hurt her, and she felt a tear run down her cheek.

At the same time, the same thing happened to him. Followed by another year, and another. The dam had broken, and the repressed emotions finally surfaced.

And it broke her heart to see it.

“Natsu,” Lucy softly spoke. “At times like these, I don’t think men have to hold back.

Natsu looked down at their hands before she buried his head into her chest. A depressed wail escaping his lips as he finally began to cry.

For a minute Lucy gently brought her hands to cradle his head. A few silent tears of her own dripped down her cheeks and landed into his messy hair. The sound of Natsu’s sobbing filled her ears as Natsu poured out his grief that he had repressed for a year.

“I just want them together!” he exclaimed in frustration, his voice cracking as he spoke. “I want my family back! I miss it! I miss talking to Wendy as she made things or played music! I miss mom and dad trying out my meals! I miss family night where we would just play video games and watch movies! I just want it back! Is that too much to ask? I used to know what I wanted to do in life! And now that they’re divorced, I can’t see anything but this…all of this damn pain!”

His reached for her top and scrunched part of the white fabric in his hand as he continued. “How can someone be together for 10 years…and then just not love them anymore?”

He then pulled away, his body trembling before he stared into Lucy’s eyes. “Why…why did they split up?”

Lucy wiped her tears away. She needed to be strong for Natsu. He needed a friend who could help him through this. She gave a sigh and once again held his hand with her own. “I don’t know Natsu…I don’t have the answer to that. I can’t do anything that can fix it…but…I want you to know that this isn’t the end of the world…you can still do the things you want to. I know it hurts but…it’ll get better….”

She then gave a sad smile. “I know it will….”

Natsu closed his eyes tightly again as a few more tears fell. His body trembled, his breath was fast and shallow, and he squeezed her hand tightly. He then pulled Lucy into a hug.

Lucy embraced Natsu, her arms wrapping around his back and she could feel how warm he was. Natsu continued to shiver as he cried for a while longer and finally, he pulled away.

His eyes were bloodshot, and his face had a depressed expression. But, after some effort, Lucy saw him turn his frown into a trembling smile.

“Th-thanks Lucy…Thanks for being here.”

“It was no prob-“

Before she could continue, his hand grabbed her top once again and he pulled her into a kiss.

Lucy’s eyes widened as they shared their breath with each other, and for a moment, her sympathy and sorrow for her friend disappeared. All that was in front of her was him.

And she had the feeling it was the same for him.

After a minute they pulled out, both panting slightly as they caught their breath.

A blush came to Lucy’s face and she looked to the side with a pout. “That was cheap, stealing a girl’s first kiss so suddenly like that….”

Natsu gave a nervous laugh as he whipped the tears from his face. “Haha, I know you liked it.”

He then gave a smile. A real, genuine smile.

“Thanks, Lucy. I needed that.”

“No problem,” she replied, her blush deepening as she fixed her top, which had became wrinkled and stained with his tears. It had also ridden up a bit to tease her stomach.

He gave a small laugh before he grabbed the remote and turned the television back on. He went back to Netflix and they once again resumed their show. “By the way. There’s no way you’re leaving my house this weekend. So if you want to hang out with Lisanna, call her up and tell her to come over!”

She gave a pout. “That’s not fair! What if I had plans this weekend?“

“Then cancel them!”

“It’s not polite to assume what other people are going to do with their time you know.” She fake scolded, crossing her arms and turning back to watch Fullmetal Alchemist.

Natsu laughed. “It’s not polite to steal a girl’s first kiss–but you didn’t mind that either.”

Lucy’s heart fluttered for a moment before she laid her head on his shoulder. All of that was true. Deep down she enjoyed that kiss–he had taken away her first date too.

She closed her eyes and smiled.

She had a feeling she would have a lot of firsts with him.

[musicallisto]

ϟ Good Times (Sirius Black & Remus Lupin)

So I finally managed to get my shit together and write this little, quite sad piece. I was listening to Good Times by All Time Low (which I recommend you listen to while reading this) and this came to mind. I know I'm a bit late since Halloween was almost a month ago, but hey, let's just go with it. There’s no reader insertion in this, just a little one-shot about my babies; hope you’ll like it!

word count: 2300+ words

summary: In which it's Halloween again, but two lone wolves find it hard to enjoy the festivities.

Molly struggled to make her way through the many people, mostly redheads, gathered in the dining room, and the joyous laughter that filled her ears. It had been a long time since she had last witnessed so much happiness among her family and friends, and didn’t try to control the effusive exaltation surrounding the teenagers and adults she had grown to love. It seemed that all of their scars were lighter to bear when bliss lingered in the lonely twelve, Grimmauld Place, and she could have sworn she even saw the glimpse of a smile curling Mad-Eye Moody’s lips.

It had been a long day but Molly was proud of what she had accomplished. As she looked at the mischievious twins she could easily tell apart - although they liked to think she was too ignorant for that; as she looked at her eldest son, sipping from his glass of wine and conversing lightly with his younger brother and Tonks; as she looked at Hermione and Ginny, who were laughing over something stupid Ron had just said; as she looked at Harry, the boy who lived, the boy she had come to consider as her own seventh son; as she looked at her husband, whose eyes wore the same glint of curiosity and intelligence she had fallen in love so many years ago; as she looked at the freshly cooked meal and the thoughtfully arranged decorations, she knew she was proud, and hopeful.

“Remus, would you be so kind as to-” she started, turning around but bringing her sentence to a halt when she saw no one was in sight.

Fallen dead silent, she inspected the empty corridor a few seconds, then sighed. She should’ve known better, she should’ve remembered some scars were much deeper than the silver marks on his face.

“For some reason, I knew I’d find you here.”

The deep voice cut through the silent night. A man glanced at the direction the voice came from, squinted his eyes, then shook his head and continued walking down the sidewalk, a bit faster though. For a second there he had thought the tall man in the cemetery was talking to the massive, black dog sprawled right next to one of the tombstones… he shrugged it off; it was probably just a strange, lonely man on a cold Halloween night.

Remus was cautiously walking towards the guard dog as if the tiniest of hasty movements could’ve made it run away. The dog’s ears rose for a few moments, registering the familiar voice, before dolefully falling again. It had not even bothered looking up at the tall man who was approaching him; in fact, its eyes didn’t leave the mossy rock of the tombstone it was laying on, even when its sandy-haired friend sat carefully by its side. Remus’s coat would be drenched and covered in mud, but he didn’t mind. He kept quiet for a minute, the littlest of smiles on his lips.

“Sirius Black ditching a party. What a great day to be alive.”

The black dog groaned, and Remus chuckled lightly. Suddenly, they weren’t two ragged, abandoned souls in a little cemetery; they were seventeen, young and a little too reckless, their whole lives ahead of them.

“It’s not that I don’t like the company of your smelly dog self,” Remus stated after a few more minutes of quiet, “but could you turn back to your human form? It’s easier to, you know, communicate.”

Reluctantly, Sirius shook himself and soon the dark fur and canines were replaced by a sharp jawline and sorrowful eyes, sitting on the mere ground.

“Did you… apparate here?” Remus asked softly, not wanting to disturb his best friend’s tortured peace.

He simply nodded.

“Sirius… Someone could have seen you,” the werewolf warned, although he knew Sirius was very well aware of it; he had never played by the rules, after all.

“I know, Moony, I know, but I was just going mad in there. I had to get away, especially tonight. I’ve been trapped in this rathole for sixteen years and them… they just expect me to stay still and not help them when they’re risking their lives! At least in Azkaban, I didn’t have to stand for my mother’s yelling,” he finished with a bitter laugh.

“But couldn’t you wait until tomorrow for your little escapade?” Remus insisted. “It was… surprisingly great, back there. You would’ve been with the rest of us, plus you would’ve got food.”

“I guess I could have stayed for the food,” Sirius commented with a smile, more sincere than the previous ones.

He couldn’t help reminiscing the old times, the good times; he was the social butterfly, envied by boys and girls, adored and abhorred by his professors at the same time, and surrounded by the three best friends he had ever had. Every memory, every mouthful of firewhiskey in the Gryffindor common room, every hour locked in detention with James and every crack of laughter; everything felt so real, so palpable, that he almost felt like he could have reached his long lost best friend’s hand if he had dared to touch the tomb. Fearing it would only remind him of what had become real on that Halloween night, so long ago, he didn’t move.

“It’s been fourteen years,” he finally breathed out.

“I know.”

“I know you know. It just… feels like it was yesterday we said goodbye to them, doesn’t it?”

Remus sighed, the hot cloud of his breathing dancing just before his lips. He didn’t like this conversation. He dreaded it. For the longest time, he had tried to turn his back on his past, keep his head up and carry on. For the longest time, he had tried to be brave, to live up to everyone’s expectations - he was a Gryffindor, after all. For the longest time, he had tried to run from October 31st of 1981, and he almost would have succeeded, had it not been for Sirius. He loved his best friend like a brother, and he was the person he cherished the most, but his torturous questions and melancholic sighs were like a steel vise constricting his throat. However, Sirius needed someone to talk to. A shoulder to cry on, a partner in crime to laugh with and a mature figure to yell at. And Remus was willing to be the shoulder, the partner in crime and the mature figure. He was willing to do anything for his best - and last - friend’s sake.

“Yes, it does.”

They remained silent until Sirius threw a pebble across the graveyard with a contained fury.

“I wish I hadn’t been so stupid. So naïve… I thought… I thought Peter was trustworthy. If I hadn’t insisted-”

“No one could have known. Don’t blame yourself for it, Sirius, it’s a waste of time.”

“But they would be alive! Both of them! Harry would have parents, and we would have friends!”

“And Voldemort wouldn’t have been defeated. And Harry would’ve died at eleven, without Lily’s love protecting him. Would you like this outcome better?” Remus questioned, still calm.

Silence.

“I guess not,” the black-haired man admitted in a murmur, shaking his head. “How is it that you’re always right, and I always look like a damn fool?”

“I reckon you couldn’t be granted both good looks and intelligence,” Remus shrugged.

Sirius’s laugh was long to come, but when the bark-like sound escaped his lips, it was the warmest and most familiar sound Remus had heard in a while.

“It’s always been this way,” Sirius reminisced, smiling wildly this time. “Remember in Charms in fourth year, when I was convinced Accio worked on living things, and you told me it didn’t? I think we argued for at least fifteen minutes until the Professor had to separate us.”

Remus’s smile spread as well, and he felt like he could breathe steadily again; remembering his time as a Marauder, when all of them were together and simply happy, was much easier than facing the consequences of the war on their broken alliance.

“Of course I remember! You were so stubborn - didn’t you write that in your exam?”

“Yeah,” Sirius laughed. “But I still got an O, so joke’s on you.”

“I never understood how you managed to have such good grades without ever working. Or even opening your books. That wasn’t fair! I spent hours in this goddamn library and you barely lift a finger and always came top of the class!”

“I’m just so naturally talented, Remus, you can’t even begin to imagine the extent of my abilities.”

“Oh, Merlin, shut up, you're so annoying,” Remus laughed wholeheartedly, gently hitting his best friend in the arm. He had missed his playful arrogance, his characteristic cockiness no one could really replicate.

It felt right, respectful, to be giggling like schoolboys right next to James's and Lily's tombs. They both knew their missing friends were somewhere, watching over them, and chuckling without a care was the best tribute they could have paid them - the best way to remember them.

"You've always been this way,” Remus commented after a few seconds of placid silence. "So... overly confident. So fond of yourself. I never understood how you did it- I still don't."

“I'm not the same cocky teenager I used to be... I lost a lot of my ego in prison,” Sirius answered with a smile, although the bitterness in his tone was obvious. "Serves me right, I guess. 'Twas my pride, after all, that got me into this mess. I shouldn't have run after Peter...”

“You didn't deserve any of it, if that makes you feel any better.”

“Not really, but I appreciate the help.”

The both of them fell silent again, and Sirius couldn't help meditating on Remus's last words. "You didn't deserve any of it"... did he really mean it? Was it true? Could he really be so easily forgiven after putting his best friends' lives in the hands of a traitor, of a coward, and then taking the fall for their murder? Could he be so easily forgiven for not sending a damn letter, not showing any sign of opposition nor resistance, not even trying to plead his case, at least for Remus, at least for himself? Did he deserve to get out of prison? Did he deserve freedom, mercy, and consideration? Was he worth anything more than Sirius Black, the most dangerous fugitive in the wizarding world? Sirius Black, the criminal on the run, the murderer, the Death Eater?

He never told Remus in order not to worry him - he never told anyone, for that matter, but what pained him most was all the headlines he could still decipher when he wandered the streets as a dog; it was all the burning pictures of him on the cover of a newspaper mindlessly thrown to the ground, the pictures of him, staring coldly at the reader; it was all the conversations he still overheard, two years later, about the Ministry and the once prestigious Black family. He aspired to be so much more than the serial killer the media made him look like. He aspired to be something else - anything else, really, than the twisted, disturbed Black son, who followed his ancestors' path and became a devoted lackey for His Majesty the cruel, abject Voldemort. He wanted to prove everyone wrong, he wanted to show the wizarding world he was better than them, better than his parents, better than his foolish brother, better than the Dark Arts, better than all of them, and he almost had succeeded when for the first times in century, a Black was sent to Gryffindor. The joy of stomping on his family's prestige had quickly overweighed the anxiety about his parents' reaction that day, and he remembered it all so clearly. He missed those times, when everything felt clearer and more simple. He often found himself longing for the days of sweet ignorance, of blissful youth, and no matter how hard he tried, he wasn't able to bring himself to stop thinking about it. Reading everywhere his name along with the despicable title of "murderer", and associated with the horrid name of the monster he had fought for so long didn't help him anyway.

Sirius sighed. He was glad he had found Remus. He had missed him intensely when he counted down the days in his cell, feeling even more guilty of leaving him behind and on his own, with the clear conviction that his best friend was a killer. He had wanted more than once to write a letter, even just a two-letter complaint, but he wasn't allowed to, and mostly lacked courage.

His breathing steadied softly until it coordinated itself with Remus's. Those were the moments he prefered, the moments he had wished most when he was away, on his small, lost island; when everything was calm and quiet, and he could finally feel his lungs unflex and let out all the toxic smoke that threatened to asphyxiate him.

And after a few minutes of pure silence, merely disturbed by the discreet sound of a fleeing airplane above their heads, Sirius and Remus both knew they were going to be okay again, as long as they stayed together and gave each other the confidence to hold on.

Sirius's hand fell on the shivering grave that born his beloved friends' names, forever engraved into the fragile stone. Remus's fingers soon followed, holding the tombstone as if it could disappear.

IN LOVING MEMORY OF

JAMES POTTER • LILY POTTER

“Happy Halloween, Remus,” Sirius murmured.

“Happy Halloween, Sirius,” Remus whispered back.

Harry was fine and they were fine.

They all were going to be okay.

[achrafchachi]

30 Things Every Man Should Do Before Turning Thirty

Become financially independent

Arguably, this advice is hard to appreciate, given how fully we as a generation have been impacted by the actions of the previous, but no pain, no gain right?

If you haven’t already, get out from under your parent’s feet. They may say they “don’t mind” giving you a helping hand, but you should.

2Have some discretion

Maybe don’t broadcast every thought you have on Facebook. No one cares. No one has ever cared.

We don’t need a thousand updates on the status of your relationship, selfies,

 or musings on how much of a “geek” you are. Uploading 400 photos in an album titled “last night” is not a great use of time.

3Travel

On that note, you’ve heard it a million times, but travelling will open your eyes.

Don’t hit up KFC first thing when you get to where you’re going, be respectful and willing to learn. You’ll come back appreciating home much more, too.

For inspiration, check out the 28 Places Every Man Should Visit In His Lifetime.

4Be able to call it a night

OK. Unless things are going well with a little cutie, you don’t have to stay up until 4am just for the sake of it.

The most mature thing someone can do is to say, “right, I’m off,” and then actually leave.

Most parties tend to suck after a certain point anyway, so try and find the peak point of a given night, and then make your move.

5Learn to live with other people

College is the time to do this, and then maybe a couple of years after when you’re figuring out what to do with your life.

You’ll make horrible choices regarding roommates (if you even get to choose) and in the inevitable crises (rising damp, friends not paying rent) that follow, you’ll be sure to learn a lot about yourself.

On that note…

6Ditch bad friends

I had a friend who used to literally scream at me when I told him I was trying to quit smoking, because he needed someone to validate his own choices.

This man was not a good man. Luckily, bad friends tend to weed themselves out. You might end up with no one beside you at times, but that’s okay, it happen to all of us.

In that case…

7Learn to live with yourself

When you were younger, you probably had serious FOMO. If you don’t know what that means, you’re too old to worry about it. But getting older means not having to be where the party is, at least not all the time.

Get to know yourself or you’ll be running around chasing other people forever.

8Put Yourself Out There And Attempt To Fall in love

It could be a five year relationship, it could be a wistful look with a colleague at work. Hopefully it takes more than a look.

Falling in love with someone is so wonderful and horrible, so nerve-wracking and yet so becalming that you’ll hate yourself for having done it sometimes. But it’s the best thing in the world for reminding yourself you are still human.

9Get your heart broken

Same sort of thing, really.

Could be big (a broken engagement), could be small (the girl whose name you don’t know turns up at the bus stop with a man by her side), and while it may sting like crazy at first, you’ll be grateful for the trouble in the long run.

10Give good/bad advice

I once volunteered to teach DIY at a charity, and school children would ask me, a 23 year old, for advice.

Did I give good advice? Hell no, I was a mess. But it felt nice to be asked, to impart whatever existential crisis I was having at the time, and how best someone can avoid it.

11Be a Role Model To Someone Younger Than You

You may be a younger member of a family, and therefore your siblings, or your cousins may started having kids of their own.

The best kind of kids, you’ll find, are the ones that aren’t yours. You get to be the cool and fun uncle who everyone loves, but as soon as they poop themselves or start crying, you can hand them off back to their mom/dad like you’re the star quarterback.

12Find your passion

It could be anything. Love playing sports? Love talking about sports? Love inventing new sports?

Go ahead, do these things. And do them as best as you can. You literally can’t be wrong. It doesn’t have to lead anywhere, it can just be for you, an ocean of calm in the sea of madness that is life.

13Make/Buy/Own something that is Yours

It could be a nice suit, or a house, or a set of pristine fire pokers from the 1800s.

It could even be a song you’ve written. It can just be yours, to be passed down, or shared with future generations.

14Have your own place to call home

Nothing will bring you back down to Earth quicker than talking a big game to your friends, and then coming back to a nice cooked meal from your mum before you sleep in your childhood bed (shaped like a racecar).

Get out of there, soldier. Your parents may not be too happy about the empty nest, but in the long run they’ll thank you (from some booze-cruise in the Bahamas).

15Volunteer

As much as we’ve talked about accumulating things and experiences, giving things back every once in awhile is incredibly rewarding too. Do you have any skills, or are you just good with people? If you have the time, do this.

16Help someone move

In life, only three things are certain: death, taxes, and being asked to help someone move.

This goes double, if not triple, if you own a van. Get ready for it, because it will happen. However, it’s a great thing to do for someone, and you’ll need someone’s help in the future too. Pay it forward.

17Begin to enjoy the finer things

Those 5 cent packets of ramen noodles got you through a lot of late nights at college, I’m sure, but as you reach the big 3-0, you would do well to try a little harder at life.

18Learn to cook one meal that is impressive

It doesn’t have to be a signature dish of your own concoction, but if you can make a decent meal and present it nicely you’ll always be welcome at a grown-up house party.

19Live in another country

Bonus points here if you manage to do it without yelling about how “cultural/spiritual/political” it is.

Knuckle down, get some friends who aren’t like you, and integrate for a bit. Learn the language. Other countries have a lot to offer beyond “not being America”.

20Appreciate art

Like you perhaps, I once did not “get” art. I once walked around a modern art museum with a friend complaining loudly like I was the coolest, most original person on earth.

Along with your newfound appreciation for being a modern, mature gentleman, it’s important to learn that a lot of art is designed to spark a conversation, so what parts of it don’t you like? What issues do you have with it? Besides, there are so many amazing pieces out there, can you really ‘not like’ all art?

21Go through a crisis

“Why do we fall, Master Bruce?”

In these moments, you will find out who your truly are, and you don’t need a sad, cockney butler to help you do it. When life is good, it’s very hard to make adjustments for your own issues. Only when you’re on the floor, getting kicked when you’re down, can you find the strength within yourself.

22Learn basic DIY

You don’t need to have a toolbelt or an extendable ladder, you don’t even need to strip the walls of every house you move into or grunt approvingly when you see a hardware commercial on TV. Just be able to put a shelf up straight.

23Learn basic car maintenance

On a very similar note, the time to get over your fear of looking under the hood of a car is definitely before 30. Don’t tear the wheels off or adjust your power steering, but definitely check the oil and maybe learn a little bit about using jumper cables.

24Learn how to use the washer and dryer

You can’t keep making your laundry someone else’s problem, or – ugh, never doing it at all.

Figure out your clothes, make some time every week or two, and just get it done. If you don’t like separating our colours and whites, just put it all in at 40 degrees and let God sort it out. If it doesn’t survive, it wasn’t meant to be.

25Stop worrying about your purpose

I don’t think anybody really knows what their purpose is.

We spend so much time worrying about it, when these things tend to come to us when we least expect it. Do things you love and you’ll eventually realise you found it a long time ago.

26Break the bad habits

Want to stop smoking? Want to get a little time off the internet? Eating nothing but junk food? Make a concerted effort to stop before you turn 30 (as in several years before this, not when you are 29 and 364 days) or you may find some things too hard to kick.

27Start exercising

While kicking bad habits, it’s also a good idea to develop brand new good ones. Exercise will keep your aging body (sorry) fit, release all kinds of good chemicals, and give you a brand new thing to go on and on about.

Don’t like running? Download Pokemon Go and do some walking or something.

28Open up your worldview

Typically, people tend to get more conservative as they get older, and thus we find ourselves in a position where a cranky, scared older generation is running the world and ruining it for the rest of us.

Break the trend: read widely, be skeptical of news outlets, be compassionate to your fellow man.

29Try anything you like

You’re still young enough to pretty much give anything a go and not be too worried if you’re terrible at it.

The sky is still very much the limit, and before you’re 30 you’ll find you have much more time to do it.

Do your best, but laugh it off if it doesn’t work.

30Realise that you can’t do everything

I read a cushion cover the other day that said, “Only children think they can do everything,” and it stopped me in my tracks.

Mostly because it seemed like an incredibly depressing message for a decorative item, but also because I realised I agreed, I just didn’t know it until then. It’s fun to try things, but eventually, you must settle down, focus, and excel at your best qualities.

There you have it, guys. I hope at the very least this has added an idea or two to your bucket list.

[dear-posterity]

Dear Diary,

Is that how real people actually write diary entries? I’ve never had a diary before and writing “dear diary” seems like a thing teen romcoms made up. I’ll have to think of something else to head these with.

So. Diary. Hm. I don’t know what I’m supposed to write. I guess my feelings? That’ll make a real depressing read haha

That’s not actually funny. And not entirely true. Not anymore, anyway. For today at least. I got desperate last week and broke into the CVS down the block. Thank god I react well to the really common meds. I was able to find enough pills in my prescription to last me a while. I hadn’t taken my meds in   since   in a while and that was stupid. I think I’d forgotten what serotonin felt like.

That might be why I actually started writing. I finally have the energy to /do/ stuff. I found food that wasn’t ramen or in a can, and I actually cooked it. Who would have thought that a proper meal of nutritious food + the right amount of sleep + actually taking my meds would make me feel so good? Is that what normal people feel felt like all the time?

Well that got dark real quick. Freaking verb tenses making me sad. I know it’s been a couple of months since this whole thing started (ended?) but I’m still not used to it. I spent most of the time right after huddled up in my room like I always did. I don’t think I even realized at first that everyone had vanished. It’s a lot to process, and instead of processing it, I guess I just sort of shoved it in a box, hid it under my bed, and left. I walked for days, focusing on the aching of my legs rather than the fact that everyone was gone. Even once I’d found the bookstore, I still never really...thought about it.

I’m trying not to think about it now. Miss Sylvie would be disappointed that I’m avoiding this, but she’s not here right now, so it doesn’t matter. I don’t think this is the kind of thing someone can just /get over/. I wonder if this counts as traumatic. I guess probably. She would know better than I would. I think I miss

I’ve had to read parts of people’s journals before for English class and stuff, which is kind of weird if you think about it. You write down you innermost thoughts and some rando four hundred years in the future is reading your diary like a middle school bully looking for gossip. People get so upset when they imagine someone reading their diaries, which I guess I get, but I kind of wish I’d been the sort of person who was able to keep up with one so that my mom could go snooping around and stumble upon pages and pages of my real feelings. I am so awful at expressing myself out loud, especially when I’m put on the spot. Once, Mom yelled at me for skipping school and just staying in bed all day and as much as I /wanted/ to tell her that my brain was trying to tear me apart from the inside and burn every piece until it could blow away the ashes and going to school would be like giving it a chainsaw and a bucket of gas and a box of matches, I just told her that I didn’t feel like going and then slammed the door in her face.

Maybe if I’d written all that down and then “accidentally” left my diary on the kitchen table next to her purse with the lock missing, Miss Sylvie would have had less trouble convincing her to buy my meds.

Now that she’s gone, though, who am I writing for? Which, conceptually, is a wild question. Who am I writing my diary for? Me, obviously. But I know what I’m thinking. I don’t need to look back through this journal later to remember what I was feeling. Heck, I don’t /want/ to remember what I was feeling a lot of the time. My feelings suck. Not at this exact moment, but you get the idea.

I don’t really like the idea of just writing for myself. But maybe I can be like one of those people whose journals we read in school. If the people come back someday, they’ll want to know what the heck happened while they were gone, and knowing me, I’ll just say “Nothing much” and then burrito into my blanket like never before because the social whiplash of seeing other people again after this long would be insane and anything more than two words will probably send me into shock.

So I guess I’ll write to potential future historians. Hey, future historians! I sure do hope you exist! It must be nice having someone actually trying to be helpful for once instead of assuming no one will ever need to know any context for their stories and opinions and feelings. I am writing this journal for you because I think there is no reason to write down your feelings unless you want other people to read them. I will do my best to give you something that isn’t totally depressing and possibly, at points, entertaining. For the sake of posterity, I will record my life after the end of the world.

Yours,

Hadassah

[thousandsunny]

Summer's last sunflower.

Akutagawa in no way was a morning person the sun was too bright for his liking, usually making him hiss at the sunlight on more than one occasion, yet all the same he also looked forward to them. It’s looking forward to sparring with his other mentor, watching his rock-steady yet graceful movements, like cherry blossoms dancing in the wind. It’s watching the slight tilt of his head, the knit of his brows when giving advice. The blinding smile that plays at the redhead’s lips when he praises him. Akutagawa couldn’t understand why would Chuuya be doing this for him, he kept his extra medicine in his coat pocket, made sure he was eating and sleeping well, not off his rockers driving up the walls. All the little things that lit a fire in this dark heart of his.

The realisation hit him harder than Chuuya’s fist one day.

Akutagawa winced a little recovering from the blow when he looked up - dear god he wished he hadn’t - the sweat was trickling down Chuuya’s forehead, his copper locks were clinging to his face. His eyes narrowed in concentration that promised agony like no other while pupils dilated in passion burned like fire. It was the first time Akutagawa noticed how much his eyes reflected the beauty of deep oceans shinning under the sunrise. Red hue of his cheeks, laboured breathing and his glossy gaze sent Akutagawa’s heart thundering against his ribs. NO, no ,no . A faint blush creeped up Akutagawa’s face, which he covered using his hand trying to pass it off as cough. This isn’t real, this isn’t happening. ______________________________ Emotions show one’s vulnerability and frailty they are vile, disgusting thing that Akutagawa had abandoned when he was mere child or so he had surmised. Akutagawa was striding back and forth across the room with heavy footsteps, lost in thought about his latest predicament. When his rumination was broken by soft voice.

“Brother if you continue the floor is going to collapse.” Gin declared not looking up from the newspaper, she continued “ we just rebuilt the wall from when you tried to kill a spider using Rashomon. I rather spare myself the hassle of doing it again.”

“Well whose fault is that Miss. Assassin of darkness but can’t kill spiders for shit” with that he went back to his thoughts. It was when another deep sigh, that sounded awfully like a whine, escaped from his mouth for umpteenth time, Gin’s patience came undone, “If you are going to think about Atsushi-kun so much at least try to be discreet. Not that everyone doesn’t know already’’ she mused.

Akutagawa halted in his tracks throwing her the best death look he could muster,“ what do you mean? why would I be thinking about him?” he questioned.

Gin arched an eyebrow at her brother “ don’t you know, there is a betting pool going on between lower rank members on how long till you ask weretiger out” a small smile threatening to break out on her face.

Akutagawa opened his mouth, closed it a few times bearing an uncanny resemblance to a fish. He blinked twice finally processing the words he just heard. His expression morphed into something akin to abhorrence. “Jinko and me..me..me” dating was the word that he wanted to say, it sounded so wrong it refused to go past his lips, “Why would they even think that?”

Like the ever kind sister she was, she threw everything at back to his face “ in your battles you scream his name more than you hit him, you threaten to kill him than save him, while screaming his name may I add, you even let him wear Rashomon as if -”

“No..no..no…no, stop talking” Akutagawa shrieked, in horror at his sister’s words wondering what atrocity he had committed in past life to warrant this fate. “ It was all for the sake of the mission, gods know otherwise I won’t let anyone touch Rashomon” he bellowed .“ As for others I am going to skewer alive for insubordination, why Jinko of all people he is bane of my life, my adversary. He isn’t like Chuu-” words slipped his mouth even before he realised what he has done, regret soon flashed upon his face.

He inwardly groaned when Gin’s usually expressionless face lit up in pure amusement . “ Oh my god” newspaper slipped from her hands as if it were water ,the last of her words were followed by laughter.

“Gin, shut up” he has to fight down the colour from rising into his cheeks, he wanted nothing more than for earth to open and swallow him whole. He wished he was a Scooby-doo character so he could drop through a trapdoor in the floor to save himself from this embarrassment.

She clapped her hands together in joy “Is that why you been jittery all day because you a little girl’s crush on Nakahara-san” she let out another short laugh.

Well no shit, that’s just what I said.

Suddenly a serious look crossing her face “Damn it! I should have betted against Jinko”

“Oi…that’s what you are thinking!” Akutagawa said in disbelief “ if you going to be an idiot about do it somewhere away from me”

“I think you just tell him, I mean he already acts like a distressed wife, you might just make it official.” she said regaining her composure.

“What if it’s a mistake” he said “Maybe it’s a mistake, maybe it isn’t , maybe it’s Maybelline. Stop being so dramatic.” Gin rolled her eyes at her brother. Before her face broke into a far too amused smile. “Here , I googled some pick up lines for you they usually work” he took the phone from her and started reading “are you sure about this?” doubt seeping into his tone.

“Trust me, Nakahara-san is going to love them.” .He nodded, if only he had noticed the shit eating grin Gin was hiding behind the newspaper it would’ve saved him his dignity. _____________________________

“Yo, Akutagawa drink up” Chuuya said tossing a bottle of water towards him “ today’s session was good your footwork and speed have improved but-” Akutagawa couldn’t hear anything, all he saw was the movement of Chuuya’s lips the rest remained forgotten. “Oi, are you listening to me. Akutagawa you have been very distracted today, what’s up?” Chuuya’s tone was full of worry which made his treacherous heart beat even faster. He recalled all the lines from internet he had learned and now seemed like a good chance. “Chuuya-san, you will have to get me a new drink because I dropped mine when I saw you” he deadpanned, his voice steady as if he were reporting back from a mission.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at him and tilted his head in confusion before throwing another bottle at him. “You are acting weird, well you are always weird but you are being weirder today”

Akutagawa cleared his throat “Chuuya-san,have you ever kissed a rabbit between the ears? All he got was puzzled looks from other man as his eyes followed Akutagawa hand turning his pant pockets inside out and pointing to his crotch “Would you like to?” he asks but this time with a slight tremor in his voice and pink dusting his cheeks. All he had got in reply was a bottle crashing into the ground spilling water everywhere. Chuuya stood there gaping at him, too stunned to speak oddly resembling a stone statue. Akutagawa could feel his heart dropping into his stomach, he had made a mistake, Chuuya was going to abandon him, he is going to lose the last thing that kept him steady. Any other normal person would have apologised and confessed their true feelings. However Akutagawa was neither normal nor any other person so he did what he thought was best. He made a fucking run for it. Well ,tried,since he felt an invisible force yanking him backwards before he could reach the gates towards Chuuya. Fucking gravity. Akutagawa could feel the heat radiating like a hot pan he could have cooked a 3 course meal on his face. This was all Gin’s fault he would swear it till the day he dies.

“Akutagawa, explain” Chuuya demanded his voice stern and commanding. A frown replacing his earlier shock.

Akutagawa took a deep breath “ Chuuya-san, the only emotion I have felt since my birth is hatred. I spit on the world that denied me, the rage and resentment burned my soul and filled me with hate. It burned my heart until ashes were the only thing that remained. But, when-” his voice breaking a little he raises his hand to clutch at his chest “ you smile at me, care for me, I feel human again that there is still something left in me. And that human part of me loves you” he let out a shaky breath,refusing to lift his gaze from ground afraid of what he will in find in those eyes. Instead a felt a hand against his cheek. “Geez, you had me scared there for a moment. Why didn’t you say so in the first place. Ryuu” he sang his name against his skin before meeting their lips together. It wasn’t like Akutagawa had seen in movies messy, hurried or hungry. This was slow, tender and gentle their lips moved together like a sea song, it made warmth spread down to his chest and lift his heart up from where it had sunk that morning. The gesture had left no room for words, they weren’t needed, he knew he loved and was loved back.

Chuuya broke their kiss smiling at him softly “ Did you like it? I think you could use some training in this area as well” he mused a wry grin pulling at his lips.

“I agree, I think we should train often as possible” Akutagawa leaned down to kiss him again but as life would have a sneeze surged from his mouth covering Chuuya’s face in spit and banging there heads together, his lips meeting redheads nose instead. Chuuya step back rubbing then he was laughing. A belly deep mirth bubbling through his chest making him bend over, tears gathering at the corner of his eyes. The scenic view infront of Akutagaqa made his breath rush out, the fire kissed hair gleaming in rays of sunlight, eyes shining so brightly small part of Akutagawa wondered if he had his own sky inside of them.

Maybe sun wasn’t so bad after all.

____________________________________

This is the first fic I have written, I hope you enjoyed it. I blame @ariukoart for dragging me into this rarepair hell.

[johnhardinsawyer]

People, Get Ready

John Sawyer

Bedford Presbyterian Church

9 / 6 / 20

Exodus 12:1-14

Psalm 149

“People, Get Ready”

(Into the Unknown – Part 1)

How many of you feel like we are in uncharted territory?  A once-in-a-century pandemic, combined with the very public exposure of racial discord and injustice, combined with economic upheaval, combined with having to reinvent work and school on the fly, combined with a presidential election, combined with hurricanes and wildfires brought on by a changing climate – and it all seems to be happening at the same time.  To make things even more complex, everyone’s anxiety about all-of-the-above makes everything seem urgent – life or death – from real life and death to conspiracy theories about life and death.  And this anxiety has everyone’s fight-or-flight impulses on high alert in such a widespread way that just about everyone is on edge when it comes to one thing or another.  And, there’s so much that remains unresolved – unknown. . .

Have any of us ever lived through such a time as this?  I’m thinking that most of us would say “No, we haven’t.”  We are in uncharted territory – culturally and historically.  And, even though we are six months into the Covid-19 pandemic, I’m willing to guess that not very many of us were prepared for all that has unfolded – not ready, at all.

I don’t know how ready the people of Israel were in the land of Egypt on the night of the first Passover.  Oh, they were ready to leave – to get out from under the oppressive slave-labor and terrible conditions they had been forced to endure at the hands of the Egyptians – but I don’t know how many of them were actually prepared to leave. . .  whether their bags were packed or not.  And yet, in today’s story from the Book of Exodus, Moses tells the people to get ready, because they are going to be leaving very soon.  They might not be sure where they’re going, exactly, but they are getting out, so they need to get ready.

This is a strange story that starts with instructions for going out and buying a lamb, painting blood on the doorpost, cooking the lamb in a certain way, and eating it all in a hurry – dressed for travel – but not until God passes through the land and kills a lot of people.  This strange story is actually the culmination of a series of strange stories – nine stories, to be exact – about the various ways that Moses, and the God of Israel, try to convince the Pharaoh, the king of Egypt, to let the people of Israel go.  Moses, fresh off of his visit with the burning bush in the wilderness, returns to Egypt – the country of his birth, the country that had kicked him out a few years earlier – to encourage, cajole, and convince the king to free the Israelite slaves. . .  Moses’ people. . . God’s people.  

“Let my people go,” Moses tells the king, over and over again.  And, the king says “No,” over and over again.  So God sends these plagues:  a poisoned river, millions of frogs, a lot of gnats and flies, the livestock get sick, everyone gets gross boils on their skin, there is thunder, and hail, and locusts, and darkness that doesn’t go away.  It’s basically like the year 2020.  No, as crazy as this year has been, the Egyptians have it way worse.  Anyway, after every plague, Moses returns to the king and says, “Let my people go” and the king – whose hard heart gets more and more unyielding with every plague – says, “No.  No.  No.”

Finally, Moses offers this last threat from the Lord:  

Thus says the Lord:  About midnight I will go out through Egypt.  Every firstborn in the land of Egypt shall die, from the firstborn of Pharaoh who sits on his throne to the firstborn of the female slave who is behind the handmill, and all the firstborn of the livestock.  Then there will be a loud cry throughout the whole land of Egypt, such as has never been or will ever be again.  (Exodus 11:4-6)

Woah!  That’s quite a threat!  But it falls on deaf ears.  As the scripture tells us, “The Lord [hardens] Pharaoh’s heart, and he [does] not let the people of Israel go out of his land.”  (11:10)  Pharaoh either doesn’t think that it will happen OR maybe he doesn’t understand the full scope of what will occur if it does happen.  Pharaoh is familiar with the Nile – the river that runs through Egypt – but he also seems to be very familiar with denial – the refusal to admit the truth[1] about what is going to happen.  He is not the first person in history to live in denial.  He’s not the last, either.  Moses knows the truth about what God is going to do, though.  God has told him as much[2] and Moses has seen as much in the nine previous plagues.  And, so, Moses gives his people a plan to protect themselves.

Could we pause for a moment and talk about the elephant in the room – about the whole God-threatening-and-killing-a-bunch-of-people-thing?  I mean, I’m the first born child of two first-born children and, if I were just some regular Egyptian, living my life in the time of Moses, this story would not turn out well for me – or for a lot of people.  

It’s stories like this that can cause a lot of people to get hung up on the Bible, especially when they read the Old Testament.  Richard Dawkins, a biologist and prominent atheist, writes, “The God of the Old Testament is arguably the most unpleasant character in all fiction.”[3]  Now, this is not the God that I see when I read the Old Testament, but I can see how a selective and literal reading of the Bible could lead someone to believe that God is unpleasant.  As Old Testament scholar Brent Strawn writes, though, “Knowing little bits here and there simply won’t do.  Snippets definitely don’t count as the full language [of the Bible].  They also can’t count as serious criticism [from Dawkins or anyone else].”[4]  Besides, the real heart of today’s story is God’s love and protection for God’s people and the way that God frees the oppressed by defeating the oppressors.  Some might say that God is unpleasant, but ultimately, God is on the side of the lowly, and the downtrodden, and the helpless.  This is the God we see at work in today’s story.

On the first Passover, the people of Israel share a meal – huddled together, sheltering in place – as God passes through the land and passes over their blood-painted doorframes.  The people eat a special meal – a simple meal, the kind of meal that can be cooked without too much preparation – because they need to be ready to go.  Moses instructs the people to eat their dinner with their traveling clothes on, shoes on their feet, and walking sticks in their hands[5] – ready to leave, at a moment’s notice.

Imagine if you had to suddenly leave the only home you have ever known, taking only the things that you could carry.  What might you decide to take with you or leave behind – not knowing exactly where you are going, but leaving the past and stepping out on faith, into the unknown?

In so many ways, I think this is where we find ourselves in this uncertain moment.  After the initial rush of hoarding all of the toilet paper and bread flour that we could find back in March, this time of physical distancing, and sheltering in place, and masks in the grocery store, and at school, and no in-person worship at church leaves us wondering what will come next.  When will it end?  How will it end?  How will our world be changed, permanently?  Because, clearly, things have changed.

It is no small thing that today’s text begins with a kind of proclamation from God to Moses, “This month shall mark for you the beginning of months; it shall be the first month of the year for you.”  (12:2)  This moment – the moment that I am freeing you – is the moment that defines everything that comes after it.  As one commentator writes, “[L]iberation is . . . the foundational act for [God’s people].”[6]  It is no small thing that for Christians, the liberation from sin and death that we celebrate on Easter is built on the foundation of Passover – the time that God freed Israel from the land of Egypt.  The sacrifice of those Passover lambs in Egypt foreshadows the sacrifice that Jesus gives for the sake of the whole world – for all who came before and all who would come afterward.

I am starting to see the year 2020 as kind of a watershed moment – a turning point in the life of the world – in your life, and mine.  Just as the ancient Hebrew people are told that this moment – the moment of the Passover – is to be the moment that defines everything that comes after it, I imagine that many of us will think of this year as marking the moment BP and AP – Before Pandemic and After Pandemic; Before Mask and After Mask; Before and After too much death from Covid-19 and other things; Before and After Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd and Breonna Taylor and Jacob Blake. . . and Kyle Rittenhouse; Before and After whoever gets elected in November; maybe, prayerfully, Before and After a vaccine and not being able to gather together in-person as a church family. . .

Whatever is in the past. . . well. . . that was before.  And whatever is coming next. . . well. . . that is unknown.  So, if we know we’re going into the unknown, I wonder what it might look like if we tried to get ready.  And, no, I’m not talking about going to the store to buy all of the paper towels we can find.  I am talking about our own spiritual readiness to encounter whatever the unknown brings our way.

I’m thinking that maybe, if we’re heading into the unknown, it might be good to hear some stories about people who have been there and who made it through, with God’s help.  So, over the next few weeks, we are going to be traveling into the unknown with Moses and his people.  And I hope that we can find some encouragement for where we are and where we’re going.  And I hope – I hope – we know that wherever we go, we are not alone.

Because we – like our ancient Hebrew spiritual ancestors – can rely on God to go with us, God to lead the way, God to feed us and give us water in times of dryness, God to turn us back to the things that are important, God to encourage us when we are afraid, and God to bring us, at last, to a good place.  

Between now and then, though, we are heading into the unknown.  And before we go, it would be good to stop for a moment – as we will be doing this morning – around a table to eat and drink and be strengthened by the Holy Spirit.  So, let us prepare for that meal – make ourselves ready for the grace that God provides, the grace that feeds us, and embraces us, and goes with us into the unknown.

Let’s get ready. . .

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

----------- 

[1] Frederick C. Mish, ed.  Webster’s Ninth New Collegiate Dictionary (Springfield:  Merriam-Webster Publishers, 1988) 339.

[2] See Exodus 4:23.

[3] Richard Dawkins’ The God Delusion, by way of Brent A. Strawn, The Old Testament is Dying:  A Diagnosis and Recommended Treatment (Grand Rapids:  Baker Academic, 2017) 84.

[4] Strawn, 91-92.

[5] See Exodus 12:11.

[6] Robert Alter, The Five Books of Moses (New York:  W.W. Norton & Company, 2004) 376, n. 2.

[adrianafashionstyle]

     In this article you can discover some of the best books and you can find the top of the most popular books at this moment. What’s hot in books these days? Take a look at the below recommendations from the list and find the best books in literature, fiction and nonfiction. 

     Explore best sellers in books for romance, mystery, fantasy and thrillers, science fiction and biography.

Rediscovering Americanism: And the Tyranny of Progressivism

Hardcover – June 27, 2017

by Mark R. Levin

From #1 New York Times bestselling author and radio host Mark R. Levin comes a searing plea for a return to America’s most sacred values. In Rediscovering Americanism, Mark R. Levin revisits the founders’ warnings about the perils of overreach by the federal government and concludes that the men who created our country would be outraged and disappointed to see where we've ended up. Levin returns to the impassioned question he's explored in each of his bestselling books: How do we save our exceptional country? Because our values are in such a precarious state, he argues that a restoration to the essential truths on which our country was founded has never been more urgent. Understanding these principles, in Levin’s words, can “serve as the antidote to tyrannical regimes and governments.” Rediscovering Americanism is not an exercise in nostalgia, but an appeal to his fellow citizens to reverse course. This essential book brings Levin’s celebrated, sophisticated analysis to the troubling question of America's future, and reminds us what we must restore for the sake of our children and our children's children.

Turtles All the Way Down (Signed Edition)

by John Green

This is a signed edition. Limited quantities available. The wait is over! John Green, the #1 bestselling author of The Fault in Our Stars, is back. It all begins with a fugitive billionaire and the promise of a cash reward. Turtles All the Way Down is about lifelong friendship, the intimacy of an unexpected reunion, Star Wars fan fiction, and tuatara. But at its heart is Aza Holmes, a young woman navigating daily existence within the ever-tightening spiral of her own thoughts. In his long-awaited return, John Green shares Aza’s story with shattering, unflinching clarity.

Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis

by J. D. Vance 

#1 NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER, NAMED BY THE TIMES AS ONE OF "6 BOOKS TO HELP UNDERSTAND TRUMP'S WIN" AND SOON TO BE A MAJOR-MOTION PICTURE DIRECTED BY RON HOWARD

"You will not read a more important book about America this year."—The Economist

"A riveting book."—The Wall Street Journal

"Essential reading."—David Brooks, New York Times

From a former marine and Yale Law School graduate, a powerful account of growing up in a poor Rust Belt town that offers a broader, probing look at the struggles of America’s white working class

Hillbilly Elegy is a passionate and personal analysis of a culture in crisis—that of white working-class Americans. The decline of this group, a demographic of our country that has been slowly disintegrating over forty years, has been reported on with growing frequency and alarm, but has never before been written about as searingly from the inside. J. D. Vance tells the true story of what a social, regional, and class decline feels like when you were born with it hung around your neck.

The Vance family story begins hopefully in postwar America. J. D.’s grandparents were “dirt poor and in love,” and moved north from Kentucky’s Appalachia region to Ohio in the hopes of escaping the dreadful poverty around them. They raised a middle-class family, and eventually their grandchild (the author) would graduate from Yale Law School, a conventional marker of their success in achieving generational upward mobility.

But as the family saga of Hillbilly Elegy plays out, we learn that this is only the short, superficial version. Vance’s grandparents, aunt, uncle, sister, and, most of all, his mother, struggled profoundly with the demands of their new middle-class life, and were never able to fully escape the legacy of abuse, alcoholism, poverty, and trauma so characteristic of their part of America. Vance piercingly shows how he himself still carries around the demons of their chaotic family history.

A deeply moving memoir with its share of humor and vividly colorful figures, Hillbilly Elegy is the story of how upward mobility really feels. And it is an urgent and troubling meditation on the loss of the American dream for a large segment of this country.

The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Come and Get It!: Simple, Scrumptious Recipes for Crazy Busy Lives

by Ree Drummond 

Delicious recipes for busy lives from the #1 New York Times bestselling author and Food Network host.

For home cooks, nothing beats spending a long, leisurely day preparing dinner for your family while savoring every flavorful step. But let's face it: Few of us really have the time to do that anymore, with school, sports, work, and activities pulling us in all directions. What busy home cooks really need are scrumptious, doable recipes to solve the challenge of feeding their families wholesome food that tastes great, day after day, week after week—without falling into a rut and relying on the same old rotation of meals.

Ree Drummond provides readers with her very best make-it-happen dishes, pulled from her own non-stop life as a devoted wife, mother of four, food lover, and businesswoman. The Pioneer Woman Cooks: Come and Get It! includes more than 125 of Ree’s best solutions for tasty, nutritious meals (with minimal fuss!) for breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

With a mix of flavors that will please everyone, Ree makes it easy to whip up delicious, simple, down-home recipes that go from stove without a lot of stress. Cooking should be a happy occasion!

Wonder Hardcover – February 14, 2012

by R. J. Palacio 

SOON TO BE A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE STARRING JULIA ROBERTS, OWEN WILSON, AND JACOB TREMBLAY! Over 5 million people have read the #1 New York Times bestseller WONDER and have fallen in love with Auggie Pullman, an ordinary boy with an extraordinary face. The book that inspired the Choose Kind movement. I won't describe what I look like. Whatever you're thinking, it's probably worse. August Pullman was born with a facial difference that, up until now, has prevented him from going to a mainstream school. Starting 5th grade at Beecher Prep, he wants nothing more than to be treated as an ordinary kid—but his new classmates can’t get past Auggie’s extraordinary face. WONDER, now a #1 New York Times bestseller and included on the Texas Bluebonnet Award master list, begins from Auggie’s point of view, but soon switches to include his classmates, his sister, her boyfriend, and others. These perspectives converge in a portrait of one community’s struggle with empathy, compassion, and acceptance. "Wonder is the best kids' book of the year," said Emily Bazelon, senior editor at Slate.com and author of Sticks and Stones: Defeating the Culture of Bullying and Rediscovering the Power of Character and Empathy. In a world where bullying among young people is an epidemic, this is a refreshing new narrative full of heart and hope. R.J. Palacio has called her debut novel “a meditation on kindness” —indeed, every reader will come away with a greater appreciation for the simple courage of friendship. Auggie is a hero to root for, a diamond in the rough who proves that you can’t blend in when you were born to stand out. 

Astrophysics for People in a Hurry 

Hardcover – May 2, 2017

by Neil deGrasse Tyson 

The #1 New York Times Bestseller: The essential universe, from our most celebrated and beloved astrophysicist.

What is the nature of space and time? How do we fit within the universe? How does the universe fit within us? There’s no better guide through these mind-expanding questions than acclaimed astrophysicist and best-selling author Neil deGrasse Tyson.

But today, few of us have time to contemplate the cosmos. So Tyson brings the universe down to Earth succinctly and clearly, with sparkling wit, in tasty chapters consumable anytime and anywhere in your busy day.

While you wait for your morning coffee to brew, for the bus, the train, or a plane to arrive,Astrophysics for People in a Hurry will reveal just what you need to be fluent and ready for the next cosmic headlines: from the Big Bang to black holes, from quarks to quantum mechanics, and from the search for planets to the search for life in the universe.

The Handmaid's Tale

 Paperback – March 16, 1998

by Margaret Atwood

From the bestselling author of the MaddAddam trilogy, here is the #1 New York Timesbestseller and seminal work of speculative fiction from the Booker Prize-winning author. Now a Hulu series starring Elizabeth Moss, Samira Wiley, and Joseph Fiennes. Includes a new introduction by Margaret Atwood. Offred is a Handmaid in the Republic of Gilead. She may leave the home of the Commander and his wife once a day to walk to food markets whose signs are now pictures instead of words because women are no longer allowed to read. She must lie on her back once a month and pray that the Commander makes her pregnant, because in an age of declining births, Offred and the other Handmaids are valued only if their ovaries are viable. Offred can remember the days before, when she lived and made love with her husband Luke; when she played with and protected her daughter; when she had a job, money of her own, and access to knowledge. But all of that is gone now…. Funny, unexpected, horrifying, and altogether convincing, The Handmaid's Tale is at once scathing satire, dire warning, and literary tour de force.

The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck: A Counterintuitive Approach to Living a Good Life 

Hardcover – September 13, 2016

by Mark Manson 

New York Times Bestseller

In this generation-defining self-help guide, a superstar blogger cuts through the crap to show us how to stop trying to be "positive" all the time so that we can truly become better, happier people.

For decades, we’ve been told that positive thinking is the key to a happy, rich life. "F**k positivity," Mark Manson says. "Let’s be honest, shit is f**ked and we have to live with it." In his wildly popular Internet blog, Manson doesn’t sugarcoat or equivocate. He tells it like it is—a dose of raw, refreshing, honest truth that is sorely lacking today. The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F**k is his antidote to the coddling, let’s-all-feel-good mindset that has infected modern society and spoiled a generation, rewarding them with gold medals just for showing up.

Manson makes the argument, backed both by academic research and well-timed poop jokes, that improving our lives hinges not on our ability to turn lemons into lemonade, but on learning to stomach lemons better. Human beings are flawed and limited—"not everybody can be extraordinary, there are winners and losers in society, and some of it is not fair or your fault." Manson advises us to get to know our limitations and accept them. Once we embrace our fears, faults, and uncertainties, once we stop running and avoiding and start confronting painful truths, we can begin to find the courage, perseverance, honesty, responsibility, curiosity, and forgiveness we seek.

There are only so many things we can give a f**k about so we need to figure out which ones really matter, Manson makes clear. While money is nice, caring about what you do with your life is better, because true wealth is about experience. A much-needed grab-you-by-the-shoulders-and-look-you-in-the-eye moment of real-talk, filled with entertaining stories and profane, ruthless humor, The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F**k is a refreshing slap for a generation to help them lead contented, grounded lives.

Camino Island: A Novel 

   Hardcover – June 6, 2017

by John Grisham 

A gang of thieves stage a daring heist from a secure vault deep below Princeton University’s Firestone Library. Their loot is priceless, but Princeton has insured it for twenty-five million dollars.      Bruce Cable owns a popular bookstore in the sleepy resort town of Santa Rosa on Camino Island in Florida. He makes his real money, though, as a prominent dealer in rare books. Very few people know that he occasionally dabbles in the black market of stolen books and manuscripts.      Mercer Mann is a young novelist with a severe case of writer’s block who has recently been laid off from her teaching position. She is approached by an elegant, mysterious woman working for an even more mysterious company. A generous offer of money convinces Mercer to go undercover and infiltrate Bruce Cable’s circle of literary friends, ideally getting close enough to him to learn his secrets.      But eventually Mercer learns far too much, and there’s trouble in paradise as only John Grisham can deliver it.

Milk and Honey 

 Paperback – October 6, 2015

by Rupi Kaur

#1 New York Times bestseller Milk and Honey is a collection of poetry and prose about survival. About the experience of violence, abuse, love, loss, and femininity. The book is divided into four chapters, and each chapter serves a different purpose. Deals with a different pain. Heals a different heartache. Milk and Honey takes readers through a journey of the most bitter moments in life and finds sweetness in them because there is sweetness everywhere if you are just willing to look.

The Silent Wife: A gripping emotional page turner with a twist that will take your breath away 

   Paperback – February 24, 2017

by Kerry Fisher

Would you risk everything for the man you loved? Even if you knew he'd done something terrible?

'A heart-wrenching and gripping tale. I was hooked from the very first page.' Write Escape

Lara’s life looks perfect on the surface. Gorgeous doting husband Massimo, sweet little sonSandro and the perfect home. Lara knows something about Massimo. Something she can’t tell anyone else or everything he has worked so hard for will be destroyed: his job, their reputation, their son. This secret is keeping Lara a prisoner in her marriage.

Maggie is married to Massimo’s brother Nico and lives with him and her troubled stepdaughter. She knows all of Nico’s darkest secrets – or so she thinks. Then one day she discovers a letter in the attic which reveals a shocking secret about Nico’s first wife. Will Maggie set the record straight or keep silent to protect those she loves?

For a family held together by lies, the truth will come at a devastating price.

A heart-wrenching, emotionally gripping read for fans of Amanda Prowse, Liane Moriarty and Diane Chamberlain.

What everyone's saying about The Silent Wife:

'A compulsive read about secrets, lies, and the complexities of families' Bloomin' Brilliant Books

'What a great novel this is! A very moving story filled with deception, betrayal and, contrastingly, loyalty, love, caring and forgiveness... and it has a brilliant ending!' Splashes Into Books

'Well, this book is a firecracker!...you will experience a rollercoaster of emotions, with laughter, sadness and a satisfying ending that will bring a lump to your throat.' Many Books Many Lives

'A fantastic, thought-provoking story, told with pace and style' Laura Bambrey Books

The Letter: The #1 Bestseller that everyone is talking about 

   Kindle Edition

by Kathryn Hughes 

The #1 EBook Bestseller. Every so often a love story comes along to remind us that sometimes, in our darkest hour, hope shines a candle to light our way. Discover THE LETTER by Kathryn Hughes, the Number One bestseller that has captured thousands of hearts worldwide. Perfect for fans of The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks. 'A wonderful, uplifting story' Lesley Pearse And if you love THE LETTER, you will adore Kathryn's second novel THE SECRET... Tina Craig longs to escape her violent husband. She works all the hours God sends to save up enough money to leave him, also volunteering in a charity shop to avoid her unhappy home. Whilst going through the pockets of a second-hand suit, she comes across an old letter, the envelope firmly sealed and unfranked. Tina opens the letter and reads it - a decision that will alter the course of her life for ever...

Billy Stirling knows he has been a fool, but hopes he can put things right. On 4th September 1939 he sits down to write the letter he hopes will change his future. It does - in more ways than he can ever imagine...

The Letter tells the story of two women, born decades apart, whose paths are destined to cross and how one woman's devastation leads to the other's salvation.

The Life We Bury 

Paperback – October 14, 2014

by Allen Eskens 

College student Joe Talbert has the modest goal of completing a writing assignment for an English class. His task is to interview a stranger and write a brief biography of the person. With deadlines looming, Joe heads to a nearby nursing home to find a willing subject. There he meets Carl Iverson, and soon nothing in Joe's life is ever the same. Carl is a dying Vietnam veteran--and a convicted murderer. With only a few months to live, he has been medically paroled to a nursing home, after spending thirty years in prison for the crimes of rape and murder. As Joe writes about Carl's life, especially Carl's valor in Vietnam, he cannot reconcile the heroism of the soldier with the despicable acts of the convict. Joe, along with his skeptical female neighbor, throws himself into uncovering the truth, but he is hamstrung in his efforts by having to deal with his dangerously dysfunctional mother, the guilt of leaving his autistic brother vulnerable, and a haunting childhood memory. Thread by thread, Joe unravels the tapestry of Carl’s conviction. But as he and Lila dig deeper into the circumstances of the crime, the stakes grow higher. Will Joe discover the truth before it’s too late to escape the fallout?

The Boy on the Wooden Box: How the Impossible Became Possible . . . on Schindler's List 

Paperback – August 18, 2015

by Leon Leyson  (Author), Marilyn J. Harran  (Contributor), Elisabeth B. Leyson  (Contributor)

“Much like The Boy In the Striped Pajamas or The Book Thief,” this remarkable memoir from Leon Leyson, one of the youngest children to survive the Holocaust on Oskar Schindler’s list, “brings to readers a story of bravery and the fight for a chance to live” (VOYA). This, the only memoir published by a former Schindler’s list child, perfectly captures the innocence of a small boy who goes through the unthinkable. Leon Leyson (born Leib Lezjon) was only ten years old when the Nazis invaded Poland and his family was forced to relocate to the Krakow ghetto. With incredible luck, perseverance, and grit, Leyson was able to survive the sadism of the Nazis, including that of the demonic Amon Goeth, commandant of Plaszow, the concentration camp outside Krakow. Ultimately, it was the generosity and cunning of one man, Oskar Schindler, who saved Leon Leyson’s life, and the lives of his mother, his father, and two of his four siblings, by adding their names to his list of workers in his factory—a list that became world renowned: Schindler’s list. Told with an abundance of dignity and a remarkable lack of rancor and venom, The Boy on the Wooden Box is a legacy of hope, a memoir unlike anything you’ve ever read.

The Best Seller 

Paperback – May 27, 2016

by Dina Rae 

When Maya Smock writes her first novel, everything seems to go her way. Her book practically writes itself. She marries her gorgeous agent. Her name is on all of the best seller lists. Billionaire author Jay McCallister takes an interest in her meteoric rise to fame and invites her into his world of alien-believing celebrities. Her life changes forever when he tells her that they were both created inside of a laboratory. These authors are embedding an alien genetic code within the pages of their novels that originated from Nazi Germany because... The time has come. They are here.

When God Whispers Your Name (The Bestseller Collection)

   Hardcover – June 7, 2009

by Max Lucado 

Are you ready to hope again? Are you ready to let go of doubt and sorrow? Just listen carefully. God is whispering your name.

Somewhere, between the pages of this book and the pages of your heart, God is speaking. And He is calling you by name.

Maybe that's hard to believe. Maybe you just can't imagine that the One who made it all thinks of you that personally -- that He keeps your name on His heart and lips.

But it's true. In the Bible and in the circumstances of your life, He whispers your name lovingly. Tenderly. Patiently but persistently. Let these stories remind you of the God who knows your name.

Some of the stories are from the Bible. Some are drawn from everyday life. Most are about people who are lost ... or weary ... or discouraged -- just like you may be. If you let them, they will tell the story of your life. And the story of a God who speaks into your situation.

So listen closely as you turn these pages. Listen for the Father's gentle whisper that can erase your doubt, your sorrow, your weariness, your despair.

It really is your name that you hear, and the Voice that calls is more loving that your ever dared dream. Listen. And learn to hope again.

Ashes to Ashes: The Sunday Times bestseller returns with the most gripping book of 2017! (Detective Mark Heckenburg, Book 6) 

Kindle Edition

by Paul Finch 

The Sunday Times bestseller returns with his next unforgettable crime thriller. Fans of MJ Arlidge and Stuart MacBride won’t be able to put this down.

John Sagan is a forgettable man. You could pass him in the street and not realise he’s there. But then, that’s why he’s so dangerous.

A torturer for hire, Sagan has terrorised – and mutilated – countless victims. And now he’s on the move. DS Mark ‘Heck’ Heckenburg must chase the trail, even when it leads him to his hometown of Bradburn – a place he never thought he’d set foot in again.

But Sagan isn’t the only problem. Bradburn is being terrorised by a lone killer who burns his victims to death. And with the victims chosen at random, no-one knows who will be next. Least of all Heck…

A Man Called Ove: A Novel 

Paperback – May 5, 2015

by Fredrik Backman

Read the New York Times bestseller that has taken the world by storm! Meet Ove. He’s a curmudgeon—the kind of man who points at people he dislikes as if they were burglars caught outside his bedroom window. He has staunch principles, strict routines, and a short fuse. People call him “the bitter neighbor from hell.” But must Ove be bitter just because he doesn’t walk around with a smile plastered to his face all the time? Behind the cranky exterior there is a story and a sadness. So when one November morning a chatty young couple with two chatty young daughters move in next door and accidentally flatten Ove’s mailbox, it is the lead-in to a comical and heartwarming tale of unkempt cats, unexpected friendship, and the ancient art of backing up a U-Haul. All of which will change one cranky old man and a local residents’ association to their very foundations. A feel-good story in the spirit of The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry and Major Pettigrew’s Last Stand, Fredrik Backman’s novel about the angry old man next door is a thoughtful exploration of the profound impact one life has on countless others. “If there was an award for ‘Most Charming Book of the Year,’ this first novel by a Swedish blogger-turned-overnight-sensation would win hands down” (Booklist, starred review).

Firefly Lane 

Paperback – January 6, 2009

by Kristin Hannah 

From the New York Times bestselling author Kristin Hannah comes a powerful novel of love, loss, and the magic of friendship. . . .

In the turbulent summer of 1974, Kate Mularkey has accepted her place at the bottom of the eighth-grade social food chain. Then, to her amazement, the "coolest girl in the world" moves in across the street and wants to be her friend. Tully Hart seems to have it all---beauty, brains, ambition. On the surface they are as opposite as two people can be: Kate, doomed to be forever uncool, with a loving family who mortifies her at every turn. Tully, steeped in glamour and mystery, but with a secret that is destroying her. They make a pact to be best friends forever; by summer's end they've become TullyandKate. Inseparable.

So begins Kristin Hannah's magnificent new novel. Spanning more than three decades and playing out across the ever-changing face of the Pacific Northwest, Firefly Lane is the poignant, powerful story of two women and the friendship that becomes the bulkhead of their lives.

From the beginning, Tully is desperate to prove her worth to the world. Abandoned by her mother at an early age, she longs to be loved unconditionally. In the glittering, big-hair era of the eighties, she looks to men to fill the void in her soul. But in the buttoned-down nineties, it is television news that captivates her. She will follow her own blind ambition to New York and around the globe, finding fame and success . . . and loneliness.

Kate knows early on that her life will be nothing special. Throughout college, she pretends to be driven by a need for success, but all she really wants is to fall in love and have children and live an ordinary life. In her own quiet way, Kate is as driven as Tully. What she doesn't know is how being a wife and mother will change her . . . how she'll lose sight of who she once was, and what she once wanted. And how much she'll envy her famous best friend. . . .

For thirty years, Tully and Kate buoy each other through life, weathering the storms of friendship---jealousy, anger, hurt, resentment. They think they've survived it all until a single act of betrayal tears them apart . . . and puts their courage and friendship to the ultimate test.

Firefly Lane is for anyone who ever drank Boone's Farm apple wine while listening to Abba or Fleetwood Mac. More than a coming-of-age novel, it's the story of a generation of women who were both blessed and cursed by choices. It's about promises and secrets and betrayals. And ultimately, about the one person who really, truly knows you---and knows what has the power to hurt you . . . and heal you. Firefly Lane is a story you'll never forget . . . one you'll want to pass on to your best friend.

Sister Sister: A gripping psychological thriller 

Paperback – May 23, 2017

by Sue Fortin 

USA Today bestselling author of The Girl Who Lied

‘Gobsmacked…a thrilling finale’ Rachel’s Random Reads

Alice: Beautiful, kind, manipulative, liar.

Clare: Intelligent, loyal, paranoid, jealous.

Clare thinks Alice is a manipulative liar who is trying to steal her life. Alice thinks Clare is jealous of her long-lost return and place in their family.

One of them is telling the truth. The other is a maniac. Two sisters. One truth.

What people are saying about SISTER SISTER:

‘I would definitely recommend this if you love psychological thrillers’ – Stardust Book Reviews

‘Sister Sister has everything – conflict, family secrets and betrayal, all of which go to make it thoroughly deserving of the five stars I’ve given it’ – Brook Cottage Books

‘A truly absorbing psychological thriller’ – Joan Hill, Reviewing Recommended Reads

The Secret Wife 

Paperback – November 8, 2016

by Gill Paul 

The USA Today bestseller

‘A cleverly crafted novel and an enthralling story… A triumph.’ DINAH JEFFERIES

A Russian grand duchess and an English journalist. Linked by one of the world’s greatest mysteries…

Love. Guilt. Heartbreak.

1914

Russia is on the brink of collapse, and the Romanov family faces a terrifyingly uncertain future. Grand Duchess Tatiana has fallen in love with cavalry officer Dmitri, but events take a catastrophic turn, placing their romance – and their lives – in danger . . .

2016

Kitty Fisher escapes to her great-grandfather’s remote cabin in America, after a devastating revelation makes her flee London. There, on the shores of Lake Akanabee, she discovers the spectacular jewelled pendant that will lead her to a long-buried family secret . . .

Haunting, moving and beautifully written, The Secret Wife effortlessly crosses centuries, as past merges with present in an unforgettable story of love, loss and resilience.

Perfect for fans of Kate Morton and Dinah Jefferies.

Ordinary Grace 

Paperback – March 4, 2014

by William Kent Krueger 

NEW YORK TIMES BESTSELLER WINNER OF THE 2014 EDGAR AWARD FOR BEST NOVEL WINNER OF THE 2014 DILYS AWARD A SCHOOL LIBRARY JOURNAL BEST BOOK OF 2013 “That was it. That was all of it. A grace so ordinary there was no reason at all to remember it. Yet I have never across the forty years since it was spoken forgotten a single word.” New Bremen, Minnesota, 1961. The Twins were playing their debut season, ice-cold root beers were selling out at the soda counter of Halderson’s Drugstore, and Hot Stuff comic books were a mainstay on every barbershop magazine rack. It was a time of innocence and hope for a country with a new, young president. But for thirteen-year-old Frank Drum it was a grim summer in which death visited frequently and assumed many forms. Accident. Nature. Suicide. Murder. Frank begins the season preoccupied with the concerns of any teenage boy, but when tragedy unexpectedly strikes his family—which includes his Methodist minister father; his passionate, artistic mother; Juilliard-bound older sister; and wise-beyond-his-years kid brother—he finds himself thrust into an adult world full of secrets, lies, adultery, and betrayal, suddenly called upon to demonstrate a maturity and gumption beyond his years. Told from Frank’s perspective forty years after that fateful summer, Ordinary Grace is a brilliantly moving account of a boy standing at the door of his young manhood, trying to understand a world that seems to be falling apart around him. It is an unforgettable novel about discovering the terrible price of wisdom and the enduring grace of God.

The Missing Ones: An absolutely gripping thriller with a jaw-dropping twist (Detective Lottie Parker Book 1) 

Kindle Edition

by Patricia Gibney 

The hole they dug was not deep. A white flour bag encased the little body. Three small faces watched from the window, eyes black with terror. The child in the middle spoke without turning his head. ‘I wonder which one of us will be next?’ When a woman’s body is discovered in a cathedral and hours later a young man is found hanging from a tree outside his home, Detective Lottie Parker is called in to lead the investigation. Both bodies have the same distinctive tattoo clumsily inscribed on their legs. It’s clear the pair are connected, but how? The trail leads Lottie to St Angela’s, a former children’s home, with a dark connection to her own family history. Suddenly the case just got personal. As Lottie begins to link the current victims to unsolved murders decades old, two teenage boys go missing. She must close in on the killer before they strike again, but in doing so is she putting her own children in terrifying danger? Lottie is about to come face to face with a twisted soul who has a very warped idea of justice. 

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