#forever walking around with a giant pink heart on his torso

[princescar]

GHOST MATSUDA

LOVE this idea so much, the universe cursing him with a heart blood stain and forever attached to the love of his afterlife bitch that killed him. The message is straight from @naphthine, plucked from our convo about him lmao

[webofstories]

A Fool Like Me - Arvin Russell *Smut*

Summary: It's your first time since you wanted to save it for marriage and Arvin is ready to make it special for you.

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Note: who next?

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Warnings: fluff smut, praise, touching, oral (fem receiving), just vanilla

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Everyone who knew Arvin Russell knew he was rough around the edges. He was like a prickly rose, only to others, the rose blossom didn't exist. Arvin was extremely misunderstood and you hated it, but in this car, wearing white as you observed him driving in his suit, you knew you had the blossom.

"Well," Arvin chuckled, cheeks pink as his tongue grazed over his drying lips, "Guess yer' a Russell now."

You smiled.

"Yes sir, I am," you giggled, "Yer' wife, to be exact."

Arvin rolled his eyes, but he smiled. He smiled cause he knew he had you forever and you weren't going anywhere. That thought alone made him the happiest man alive.

"Our honeymoon is gon' be in that cabin we found during that roadtrip." Arvin spoke, "It's a rental now."

Your heart jumped and your eyes widened, happy as can be. You were overjoyed, you loved that cabin, you told Arvin countless times about how you wished to go there for your honeymoon but you didn't expect it.

Arvin looked over at you and smiled, seeing how happily his newly wed wife was. It sent a shiver to his heart.

"Thank you, Arvin!" You squealed, throwing your arms around his torso as he smiler, "Oh, thank you!"

His scent wrapped around you like a blanket, keeping you warm as your body pressed against his. Arvin put an arm around you and back on the wheel. He loved your body on his.

You knew what I meant to be married now. You were each other's forever- no leaving. No giving up and quiting, things were all together now. That means becoming even more.

You and Arvin have only had intimate make outs and a little bit of undressing, but when it got serious, Arvin always stopped it because he knew you wanted to wait until marriage. 3 years later and it's finally here, you just didn't know how Arvin felt.

It wasn't long until you pulled into the driveway of the cabin. It was beautiful, red rose petals surrounding your feet as Arvin gently swooped you off the ground and into his arms. You squealed and fell into giggles, hearing Arvin chuckle at your reaction. You love this man.

Once you two were through the threshold, your eyes went wide. Arvin was studying your face closely as you took in everything around you, rose petals as red as Arvin's cheeks scattered in a trail leading down the hall with candles lit everywhere. Fire hazard? Maybe... but you were stunned.

"Oh, Arv..." you whispered under your breath, looking around in awe. Arvin awaited your next words anxiously.

"It's absolutely beautiful," Is all you could manage saying, so starstruck from the surprise.

Arvin let out a sigh of relief, knowing the time he put into making this happen in hopes you'd like it. He smiled softly and placed a hand on your back, gently guiding you down the path of petals as you admired the twinkling candle lights.

As you rounded the hallway, you stepped into a bedroom, a gasp escaping your lips as you looked around.

There was a giant bed with rose petals and roses scattered all over it, candles on the bed side table illuminating the room. Your heart felt full as you blushed deeply, facing Arvin.

"It's alrigh' if yer not ready, sweetheart." He spoke softly, caressing your cheekbone, "I just-"

"I'm ready."

Arvin's eyes went wide, positioning his hands on your hips as he stood infront of you.

"Ya are?"

"Yes, for a while now, actually..." you whispered, pushing Arvin's hand towards the back of your dress.

Arvin took the hint and gently tugged the zipper, pulling it all the way down before the straps were loose on your shoulders. Arvin eyed you before pushing them off, watching as your dress pooled around your feet.

Arvin was lost in lust but mostly love. Admiring your body, he pulled you into him, kissing you softly.

"Yer so beautiful," he mumbles, "Damn angel is what ya are."

You felt your cheeks heat up from the compliments. You watched him unbutton his shirt and toss it on the floor, eyes never leaving yours. You were in nothing but your undergarments, Arvin too.

"Darlin'?"

"Yes?"

Arvin grabbed your bare hips and pulled you into his hard chest. You smiled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

"I love you," he whispers, "More than anythin'."

Your smile beamed up at him, shiney and bright. There was so much love in the room that it couldn't go unnoticed.

Arvin had two protective arms wrapped around you before gently pressing his lips to yours, kissing you passionately.

You made a soft quiet noise against his lips out of delight, telling Arvin he could continue. He suddenly pick you up, wrapping your legs around his waist at you giggled. He walked over to the bed and gently laid you down on it before crawling over you, more laughter coming from you.

"Well ain't you just a giddy lil thing," Arvin chuckles, a smile on his face. You blushed, hiding your face in his neck.

Arvin's hands roamed your body a little, silently asking for permission everytime he touched a more daring spot. He knew you were subconscious and insecure but he made sure to put those thoughts to ease.

"Damn stunnin'."

"My pretty girl."

"My my... all mine?"

He had already slipped off the rest of your clothes, leaving him in only boxers too. You were beyond nervous and it showed, which made Arvin cautious.

"We ain't gotta do nothin'," he coos, pulling you into his lap, palming your thighs with locked eyes, "Ya know I'll never pressure ya-"

You cut him off with a bit of force as you smash your lips together. Arvin grunted, squeezing your thighs as he let out a soft moan against your lips. You wanted to show him you love him, not just to "fuck". You wanted to make love to Arvin.

"Please, Arvin, I want to." You spoke with a small smile, "I want you to make love to me."

Arvin searched your eyes for what felt like minutes. He was looking for something... hesitation, uncertainty, maybe even doubt. He found none, just as you expected.

You slowly slid your hands down his chest, lingering lower and lower, hoping to get something started. Arvin's eyes widened when he realized as he quickly grabbed your arms, flipping you over in a blink so he could hover over your naked body.

"Nah, hun," Arvin chuckled, kissing your neck lightly, making you let out a breath, "Tonight is about you,"

"Arv-"

"Hush now, let me focus on pleasin' my pretty lady." He smirked, making your down area tingle a bit. You bit your lip as you felt his lips kiss down your body.

Starting at your jaw, he made a line of soft, wet kisses to your neck, where he sucked on your sweet spot hard enough to leave a work of art there. He pulled back and observed the darkening hickey with a smile, glad to mark you.

"You're so beautiful," he mumbles before trailing kisses down to your breasts where he gently takes one in his hand and other softly in his mouth, slowly grazing his tongue over your sensitive bud.

"Ah," you moaned out, loving the way it felt.

"So good." he grunted, repeating his actions, "Love yer noise,"

You moaned again which only made him more eager. Gently trailing down your body with his lips, Arvin pushed your legs up and apart, leaving you to feel his hot breath on your core. You gasped, shocked at how good just his breath felt.

You looked down at his beautiful features and was surprised at how sexy the southern boy looked between your thighs, looking up at you for permission. All you could muster was a nod before closing your eyes and looking up.

The feeling of Arvin's wet tongue gliding between your soaked slit caused a high pitched moan to escape your lips. Your body felt estatic, breathing heavy already. You felt him lick you up again, making you moan once more.

Arvin grabbed your hips and pushed his face further into you, causing his tongue to graze your entrance.

"Ah- Arvin!" You moaned out, hands flying to grip his hair.

"Yer doin' so good, darlin'." Arvin spoke encouragingly before he continued to eat you out.

It was fantastic. Your heart was beating out of your chest as you struggled to catch your breath. You arched yourself against him, making him go deeper, erupting a soft moan to come out of you once more.

Right before you were about to cum, Arvin pulled away. Your core felt colder than ever as you frowned.

He positioned himself between you, face an inch from yours. His lips pressed against yours to create a soft, tender, loving kiss that had your body at ease. This love was only getting stronger.

"I'd do anythin' for you." Arvin whispers, staring into your eyes, "You know that."

You nodded, smiling at him as you cup his face in your hands.

"So, if ya wanna stop, that's fine," he whispered, "I'll wait."

"I'm ready now, Arv." You laughed to him, his worry in his face, "It's okay."

Arvin rolled his eyes but smiled, looking between your bodies before looking back at you. You were so close together, closer than ever before, and you loved it.

"I'm gonna go, alright?" Arvin mumbled, his southern accent seeping into his words, "It might hurt, but I opened ya up a little. Just tell me to stop and I will, always."

You nodded, smiling up at him and his support. In a slow, painful movement, Arvin pushed himself inside you.

You hissed loudly, face screwed in pain. Arvin bottomed out before stopping, eyes wide as he grew concerned.

"Are you alright?" He questioned frantically, almost pulling out but you stopped him.

"N-No, don't stop." You spoke, "Keep going."

Arvin looked hesitant, but did as you said. Slowly and hesitantly, he started thrusting gently, holding your hands in his. The pain you were feeling was hurtful in such a sensitive area, but you felt it fading away everytime Arvin pushed back into you.

"Keep going," you moaned out softly, urging Arvin to continue. His heart fluttered when he heard your moan, being less cautious and more loving with you.

His thrusts were slow and lingering, pulling out all the way before slowly pushing back in until he bottomed out inside you. Your moans and soft calls of Arvin's name filled the room as Arvin showed you how much he loved you.

"Ah- fuck." Arvin groaned into your neck, pausing for a moment. Even though he wasn't a virgin, he was feeling overwhelming pleasure from how tight you were.

"Are you okay?" Sweet Y/N asked, looking at her husband. He pulled his head away and smiled down at her,  kissing her softly.

"Yea," he spoke, "Just happy I found the love of my life."

You blushed and he continued his thrusts, making your stomach erupt into butterflies. You moaned out softly, breathing heavy despite the slow pace. But you loved it, you loved the love, the warmth, the feeling of home, all of it.

"I'm close, Arvin." You moaned out, gripping his hands tight.

"Me too, darlin'," he panted, "Just let it go."

And you did. Your vision blurred as your climax rolled over you, head to toe. Arvin pulled out of you and followed suit, a spew of soft curses leaving hid lips. You smiled at him, panting slightly.

Arvin fell down next to you on the bed, immediately hooking his arm around your waist and pulling you into him. You winced, feeling tender from what you and Arvin just did.

"Thank you," you said with a smile, turning to face him.

"No, thank you." Arvin said with love in his eyes as he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb.

You looked at him in confusion.

"For what?"

Arvin sighs before pulling you to lay on top of him, both arms wrapped around your bare body as he covers you both with the white sheets.

"For marrying a fool like me."

~

@mathletemadison

[westerhos]

Our Story: Chapter 6

[December 24th, 1998]

There is something to be said for the peculiar hour of the blue-morning, when a hospital beeps into quiet life. Death rattles behind drawn curtains, expletives are spat over set bones, and shots are taken in the thigh. It is not like Jamie’s Grampian refuge, which springs forth naturally from the earth. Instead, Boston GH scars the landscape, numbing loneliness through morphine drips and the tug of sheer necessity.

It is during this gradual reawakening that Claire hides in a closet, imagines the pink, wet sacs of her lungs contract and expand. She counts her breaths to release the night’s chaos, still lodged deep in her throat.

During the wild evening hours, Claire sees only what exists outside her body. Such an easy thing to do as a doctor, this sudden corporeal separation—a leap into the procedural dance, a temporary loss of oneself to the staunching of blood and the sewing of sutures.

But eventually the window of calm arrives, and the wall of dissociation begins to crumble. Claire, in her closet sanctuary, returns to her body once more, the sight of her arms and her hands like four old friends reacquainted.

Claire hunkers down between two shelves, and relief travels from foot to torso, settling somewhere inside her gut. As always, she has brought her medical bag—a gift from her husband, CER embossed in golden filigree—and rummages through it. As always, she finds the folder and flicks it open, seeking the page that is stowed inside. She is forever tethered to its final sentence, which launches a fresh rip of longing straight to her chest.

And as always, she goes back to the beginning, following the words. Fingers like greedy sponges, text absorbing into skin.

NEW YORK CITY, 11:30AM - The diner hushes when the bell tinkles, announcing the arrival of literary darling James Fraser. He is a giant in more ways than one: six-feet tall, wide-set shoulders, and a critically-acclaimed author with legions of fans. But for all his inches and his clout, Fraser is blissfully unaware of the eyes on his back. When he sits opposite me and shakes my hand, I, like the rest of the world, find him to be impulsively likable.

Sporting one month’s growth of beard and a wrinkled v-neck, it doesn’t take long for Fraser’s roguish charm to earn a complimentary meal. He is quick to thank the waitress, and for not the first time, one has to wonder how the man could possibly be single. Surely his good looks, his talent, and Reformed Bad Boy reputation draws the ladies in?

Point proven: Our waitress lingers, hungry for Fraser’s attention, but he closes his menu after ordering a glass of lemonade. (An odd choice, but then our writing heroes are full of idiosyncrasies, aren’t they?) I almost leap to console the girl, that poor thing, as she runs a self-conscious hand down her apron.

Alas, one gets the impression that it isn’t pickiness keeping Fraser romantically unattached. Nor is it misogyny or closeted homosexuality (despite what those tabloid vipers spit). James Fraser simply enjoys his place in the lonely hearts club—and is perfectly content to stay there, sipping ice-cold lemonade.

Frank’s ring glides across the lines, pauses over “single”. Such a different life, so removed from Claire’s, though here it thrums beneath her hands. Suddenly, her head grows heavier, weighted by the chain draped around her neck. Jamie’s thistle ring dangles there, cold as death. Forever tucked inside her shirts, a secret between her breasts. (Frank lets her wear it, just as she lets him wear his stained button-downs, other women smiling from the collars.)

Fraser’s second and latest novel, Two Centuries in Purgatory, released just last month to stellar reviews. Hailed as a “modern classic” by The New York Times (and truly, it is), Purgatory has found a comfortable seat at the top of the bestseller lists, and shows no signs of losing momentum. Now touring the U.S., Fraser seems nonplussed by the bustle of the Big Apple, his eighth time to our concrete jungle (“I’ve a parade of publisher meetings and interviews tomorrow,” he grumbles). Though he’s a longtime resident of both Edinburgh and Glasgow, he says no city feels like home nowadays. “Where is home then?” I ask him, and in traditional Fraser fashion, he deadpans: “Lost.”

For all his fame and glory, there is something decidedly melancholy about James Fraser. But of course, we all know why. We’ve read his books, haven’t we? We know his story.

Gillian Edgars: Are you enjoying your lemonade, Mr. Fraser?

James Fraser: Aye, verra much so. Lemonade in Scotland doesna taste like this.

GE: Mmmm, exploring the pleasures of America. I like it. Now, shall we begin? Let’s start with Two Centuries in Purgatory.

Claire brings the page a few inches closer. This is not the first time she has read the article, its edges worn to yellowing curls.

A familiar anger sinks its claws into her side as this reproduction of Jamie staggers into a flickering half-life. Gillian Edgars thinks she knows the man behind the book jacket. The entire world, for that matter, believes they can claim the bold-faced names on their hardbacks.

But, Claire seethes, do these people know that Jamie smiles in his sleep? That he’s prone to seasicknesses, could not wink at the waitress even if he tried? No. Only Claire knows these smaller, intimate truths—but still, they are not enough. Jamie is no longer only hers, but a communal being disseminated and shared amongst millions. Strangers have molded her Jamie into something new, into hollow casts of their false impressions.

Without warning, the closet door swings open and Joe Abnernathy leans in. “Knew I’d find you in here,” he says, but he draws up short. His smile falters when he sees Claire on the ground. Falters further still when he reads the headline, "Scotland’s Newest Literary Hero," on the page and on her face.

“Lady Jane, why do you do this to yourself? We’re working, I know, but can’t you try to be merry? It’s officially Christmas Eve!”

Joe kneels down, and levels his gaze with hers—the gentle but silent disappointment of an older brother. Claire holds firm when he pries the clipping from her grasp, the paper snagging the skin of her palm. It glides over and up, a shallow curve that splits into fine, shining rubies. A jeweled J, just at the base of her thumb.

Claire presses the wound to her teeth, tastes the heady, metallic taste of herself. (Later, she will trace the cut with reverence, grateful to be marred, at the very least, by a shade of Jamie.)

Joe tsks and reaches for a shelf, bringing back the first aid kit.

“Perks of hiding in a hospital supply closet. Bandages, everywhere. Take this.”

“It’s fine, Joe,” Claire assures him but accepts the bandaid anyways. “I’m fine—just a bad day and a scratch. See? No significant blood loss.”

“Thought I’d witnessed the first fatal paper cut,” Joe says, but then continues, more softly, “LJ, I thought you’d given this up. That Frank made you promise you’d stop.”

“He did,” Claire replies. “And I did too, for a while.”

Her stomach turns as the memory resurfaces: her husband, feeding the shredder a feast of papers. The machine’s tight-lipped and fanged smile destroying Claire’s collection of articles, her glimpses of Jamie. Frank had held her as the teeth had chewed, tightened his grip when she repeated his words back to him, “Time to leave the past behind.” And afterwards, once the the bin had emptied into the trash, Frank had dragged the bag of shreds to the curb. Claire had looked on, standing in the doorway, a soldier’s wife already in mourning.

(That evening, she almost snuck outside to piece the words together, for old habits die hard and a planet will always yearn for her sun. But then Frank’s arm had risen in the darkness, flopped sleepily across her waist. The weight of it had held her there, and so she’d stayed, picturing the night creatures stealing Jamie away, piece by piece.)

“I just…wanted to see what people were saying. About his new book.” She sighs. “I know I’m being ridiculous. It’s just that…”

“He’s everywhere, isn't he? In the papers, on TV. Saw they’re making a Lifetime adaptation of A Blade of Grass. Jesus.”

Claire nods. “Steering clear of that one.” (But she won’t, of course. Claire will want to see herself and Jamie on that screen, their better, manufactured selves broadcasted in technicolor.)

“You’re really gonna let me down like that, Lady Jane? I thought we’d drink cheap Scotch, put the movie on mute, and invent the dialogue ourselves. Next weekend, the two of us. Drunk and vengeful. Whaddya say?”

“A hard pass, Joe. We’ll be in Oxford for the holidays, anyways. Visiting Frank’s family.”

“Well, la-di-dah. I’ll be on this side of Atlantic throwing popcorn at my TV.” Joe leaps to his feet when his pager beeps. As he walks out the door, his hand flies to his coat pocket and he withdraws a shabby paperback. “Before I forget—a Christmas gift, for the Lady. If you’re gonna scramble your brain with nonsense, let it be Tessa’s ‘membrane of innocence’. Not ‘Scotland’s Newest Literary Hero.’”

Claire laughs and flips through The Impetuous Pirate, inhaling its smell of antiseptic and mildew and the vestiges of long-ago fingerprints. A Harlequin, taken from the hospital waiting room. “Aye aye, captain. But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here in Davy Jones’ Locker for a while longer.”

Joe nods, consoling, before he turns to answer an intern's cries for help.

Alone again, Claire tucks The Impetuous Pirate inside her bag, picks up the discarded article from the floor. For the first time, she notices its publication date, October 20th, was her 31st birthday. She cannot remember the details of the occasion—Did Frank take her to a concert, or to a movie? Buy her flowers or chocolates?—and yet a foreign scene plays so clearly in her mind. It is something cut from the script of her life, the stagehand’s hook pulling her to the wings before she has a chance to speak. Cast in the closet’s dim spotlight, it unfolds as the playact that could have been but never was:

Jamie, in the New York diner, drinking lemonade. Condensation like dew drops, rolling down the pitcher. A young girl in Gillian Edgars’ place, singing a high soprano. And Claire, beside her, blowing out candles in a single huff.

As she slices the birthday cake, this almost-Claire nicks her finger on the knife’s blade. “Kiss to make it better!” the young girl cries, and Jamie does, his lips are on the sting, and then Claire’s mouth. He tastes of citrus, of yellow and sunshine, a marigold paradise in a city of dying autumn leaves. “Does it still hurt, Sassenach?” he asks her. “Not anymore,” she says. And when the little girl giggles, watching them, it is something sacred. She licks the frosting from the candles. “So what’d you wish for, Mama?” she asks, not knowing that, in a moments like these, there is no need for wishes.

Claire’s pager rings, rearranging her memories. Now she remembers her 31st birthday—and knows it did not happen in that diner. On that day, there was no little girl; no citrus kisses in a molting New York.

Instead, Frank had taken Claire to the opera house, a drawn-out affair they had both fidgeted through. Back at home, he had led her to the bedroom and its king-sized bed, had slipped off her dress while she kept her chain on. “Talk to me,” he’d panted, silver thistles against her chest. And when she came, it was not Frank’s body that drew her cries. It was not Frank’s name that rose from her lips.

Claire scans the article, skipping again to the final paragraphs. Here lies the line she reads over and over, the very reason she shells $15 for subscriptions and scavenges in bins for scraps. Anything to discover some evidence of herself, some proof that she still lives in the peripheries of Jamie’s life. And whenever she finds it, it pours into her and lingers, like wine.

GE: Your debut was quite impressive—an instant bestseller, an Oprah Book Club pick, an upcoming TV movie. I’m sure you’ve been asked this before…but allow me to be a hack for just one moment. Let me ask the nosy questions. Let me pry.

JF: I dinna have a fear of rats [SMILES]. Get on wi’ it then.

GE: I appreciate it, Mr. Fraser, I do [LAUGHS]. The protagonist’s struggles in A Blade of Grass—the financial woes, the criminal record, the years of solitude—they seem to mirror your own. Is it accurate to say that the book is autobiographical?

“Randall?” a voice calls from outside the closet. “Randall, are you in there? Mr. Duncan in Room #18 needs to be—”

“Prepped for surgery, I know!” Claire finishes. Her voice is shrill, rising with her goosebumps as she nears the interview’s end. “I’ll be out in a second, Dr. Hildegarde!”

JF: In some respects, aye, A Blade of Grass is autobiographical. Mind, I made a lot of it up myself. Embellished a few things.

GE: Oh yes, certainly. But even without your embellishments, your life does make for such an interesting tale. In a way, your struggles are what made you a literary sensation. But still, I do wonder—do you regret any of it? The gamble, the money, the arrest?

JF: [LAUGHS QUIETLY] I thank ye for the compliment, Ms. Edgars, but I hope my sins are no’ responsible for the book’s success. And for the record, they were largely exaggerated by the press.

GE: Ah, right. We rats are despicable creatures, always desperate for crumbs. But they never fill the belly, not really.

JF: Have ye tried poetry before, Ms. Edgars? You’ve a knack for it [LOOKS AWAY]. But nay, it isna the crimes themselves that I regret most. Whether they were exaggerated or no.

GE: Really? There’s something else [LEANS FORWARD]? Will you tell me then, your life’s biggest regret? Or will you keep me and your readers in the dark, forever wondering what keeps our beloved James Fraser up at night?

Now Claire closes her hand into a fist, forces herself to bleed out from that thin, half-mooned J. She imagines Jamie’s face, inscrutable to Gillian Edgars, but fixed in an expression that she, and only she, can read. And if Claire had been there on that October afternoon, sitting in the diner’s vinyl booth, she would have understood. Would’ve known already what Jamie regretted most, what he would and could not say aloud. For within this precious, final line—their spoken and unspoken wishes:          

JF: My biggest regret? I let the story end early.

(JF: I should have loved her better—God! I should have loved her better.)

_______

I have very few comments about this one, but I will say A) Jamie’s POV comes much more naturally to me—probably because I, like Jamie, love Claire so frickin’ much—so writing this was like pulling teeth. And B) As I was writing this chapter, I knew it was time to bring Jamie and Claire back together. Even I was rooting for them to reunite.

I love Joe and Claire’s friendship, and I wish I’d shown more of it in this fic (although what’s here I think fits pretty naturally). And I have to say...I love Geillis—or the idea of her: witchy, feminist, and confident—a whole lot, despite her Voyager crimes. Here, she is my Outlander version of Harry Potter’s Rita Skeeter, and I could write an entire fic from her voice any day.

[pototters]

Untitled SidLink Part 2

A/N: Here’s some more of these two, getting in deeper conversation about their mutual loss. Enjoy!

Warnings: none, sfw for now

You can read Part 1 here~

Word Count: 1,871

With Sidon being nearly twice his height, Link found that he had to take at least a step and half for every one of Sidon's. Keeping up with the Zora male wasn't an easy feat. Luckily, the walk from Mipha's statue to the Great Hall Pools wasn't a very long one and Link had more than enough stamina to not let the stairs wear him out, even at a quickened pace. 

Once they arrived, Sidon picked a pool farthest from the Zora children that slept soundly within a couple of the other pools. The pool nearest the architecture had a waterfall and the prince chose this one, removing some of his ornamental adornments before entering the water and sitting halfway beneath the waterfall. Link watched a moment as the water cascaded over Sidon's shoulders and down his chest before pulling off his boots and rolling up his pants. Sitting on the edge of the pool, he dangled his feet in and ignored the water that soaked through his pants where he sat. While in Zora's Domain, Link had resigned himself to being in a constant wet state. It was impossible to stay dry here.

Once Sidon seemed to become more relaxed, letting out a satisfied sigh, he turned his gaze on Link and looked at him curiously. "You're not going to get in? You'll feel better if you submerge yourself. The water here is better than anywhere else. We wouldn't have chosen this place to build our domain, otherwise." He grinned with pride, then realization dawned over him. "Oh, but I suppose you would get your clothes all wet." This dilemma seemed to puzzle him, and Link watched Sidon, almost seeing the cogs turn in his brain, smiling with some amusement. "Oh, but you could just take them off! We are both men, are we not? Just because we're different species doesn't matter. You have nothing to be ashamed of."

Link's eyes widened in surprise at the suggestion, a light pink dusting his face. "Uh, no. That's okay." He still had female Zora to worry about and he'd rather not worry about them seeing his nakedness, regardless of species. "The water is very deep, and I would have difficulty swimming for an extended time." Sidon looked taken aback at the statement. 

"Of course. My apologies, I completely forgot. Then, in that case, would you allow me to support you as I did against Vah Ruta?" He smiled and extended his hand. Link stared at it, wondering exactly what it was that he meant by that.

After blinking a couple of times, Link glanced back up at Sidon and gave him a slight smirk. "I appreciate it, but I think that the waterfall may try to crush me." He laughed softly but cut short as Sidon slid into the pool and out from under the waterfall. 

"Then I will move away from it. Come, swim with me while we talk." Sidon gestured for Link to get in the water, again. With a defeated sigh, Link stood up and stripped to his underwear, then lowered himself into the water. Once he'd swam close enough, Sidon grabbed him and pulled him onto his back. Link yelped a bit in surprise, gripping Sidon tightly with his legs as he rode piggy-back. "There. Just like before. Link, are you getting enough to eat? You barely weigh a thing. I'm amazed at how much you've accomplished considering how small you are." 

Link playfully ground his fists into Sidon's head. "Hush you. I don't want to hear that coming from someone who got eaten by a giant Octorok." 

Sidon laughed at that. "Ow, ow! Okay, that's fair." The prince laughed some more. "Now, why don't you tell me what's on your mind. What did you want to ask me about my sister?" Link lowered his hands, all humor melting from his features. There was so much he wanted to know, but he had no idea where to start. Was there a line that he shouldn't cross? Or could he ask anything? He gnawed his lower lip in thought, all of his questions spinning around his mind. "Link, you've gone quiet, again." 

Link jolted from his thoughts at the sound of Sidon's voice gently berating him. "Oh, sorry. I guess there's so much that I want to ask that I'm unsure where to start." He was quiet only a moment more before finally asking a question. "I guess, what do you remember about her?"

Sidon hummed a bit in thought. "Well, I remember a lot, really. I looked up to her. Mipha was amazing, so I always strive to be just like her. When I discovered that I did not share her ability for healing, I focused instead on my strength so that we could carry each other. Alas, I never had the opportunity to step into battle with her." 

Link's hand rested gently on Sidon's shoulder as he spoke softly. "I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing. You could have very easily met the same fate back then." His hand squeezed slightly. "What would your people have done without both of you? Where would they be now?" Sidon was quiet a moment, conflicted by his feelings. However, Link made a good point. 

The Zora prince shook his head. "You would have saved them even without me. You're just that kind of person." Link huffed and smacked his shoulder sharply, earning a surprised yelp from Sidon. "Ouch! What was that for?" 

"Your people need you. You give them hope, someone for them to look up to and be inspired by. Just like Mipha was for you. Don't forget that." Sidon lowered his face halfway into the water and blew some frustrated bubbles, realizing Link was right. 

Lifting his face back out of the water, he glanced over his shoulder at the Hylian swordsman. "That doesn't explain why you hit me." Link blinked a couple of times in response. Was this Zora prince actually pouting? He grinned. 

"You were being so negative that it didn't sound like you. I was hoping to bring some sense back to you." Sidon's eyes widened in surprise and he quickly looked away. 

"You're very observant, aren't you?" Sidon glanced back again, a toothy grin stretched across his face. "Thank you for that. You really are a good friend." Link chuckled lightly. "Tell me, what do you remember of my sister?"

A frown etched into Link's mouth as he fidgeted slightly at the question. Would Sidon be angry with him? Would he never speak to him again? Link didn't want that to happen. He'd been silent for too long and he knew it. He would have to tell the truth and deal with whatever consequences that came with it. Not that he could bring himself to lie, anyway. Not to Sidon. The prince deserved the truth.

Sidon was starting to get antsy; Link could tell by the way the fin on his head had started to twitch. Leaning back, Link rested his hands on Sidon's lower back to prop himself up as he cast his gaze into the rippling water. He tried to catch a glimpse of Sidon's reflection so that he could gauge his reaction, but it was impossible and he spoke, anyway. "Back then, when we first confronted Calamity Ganon, I suffered fatal wounds. It was only thanks to Princess Zelda's quick action that I even survived. I've been asleep, slowly recovering, for the past one hundred years." 

Link gnawed on his lower lip, hesitating before pressing on. Sidon had gone entirely still. "When I woke up, I had no memories. I didn't even know who I was, though I heard a voice calling out to me. I only knew my name. Since then, I've recovered some of my memories from before, but... I regret to say that there are still a lot of holes." Link paused and saw that Sidon was staring into the water. Link wished he could see his expression, hoped to glean some bit of insight to what he might be thinking. 

He quickly spoke again. "I remember Mipha and I do have some memories of her, but only after Princess Zelda requested that she be the Champion of Va Ruta. My other memories, even those of my childhood, have been slowly restoring themselves, but only bits and pieces at a time. None of them are whole." Link swallowed hard, a lump forming in his throat. His heart pounded wildly in his chest as he waited for Sidon to respond. It was a long moment, a moment that Link felt as though stretched on for forever, before Sidon finally looked over his shoulder at him.

His eyes were a little sad, but they saw the pain etched into Link's face and Sidon knew he couldn't fault the Hylian for his circumstance. "I see now why you sought me. Do you hope that if I speak about her, that you may remember more of her?" Link nodded and sat up again, slumping over slightly as he trembled. Sidon noticed the tremor in Link's body and sensed that the swordsman was genuinely upset, but didn't address it to save Link's pride. "Are you cold, my friend? Shall we get out of the water?" Link had been so worried that Sidon would hate him and the relief was so great that his body actually shook.

He looked up at Sidon's inquiry and couldn't help smiling. The Zora prince had taken notice, but had the grace to give Link another reason for his reaction. "Yeah, let's get out. It's really late, anyway." Without thinking, Sidon straightened himself and sent Link careening into the water. When Link resurfaced, he coughed a little and spat out some water, shooting the Zora a withering look. "You could have at least warned me." He couldn't keep a straight face as Sidon had the decency to look sheepish over it, quickly grinning at the Zora.

"Sorry about that. Here." Sidon reached under the water, his hands closing around Link's torso, and pulled him up and out onto the ledge. Link blinked in surprise at how easily Sidon had lifted him, as though he'd weighed no more than a feather. Despite himself, and he wasn't even sure why, his face heated as a slight blush crept across his face.

"Thanks." Link quickly leaned down to gather up his dry clothes as Sidon emerged from the pool. Sidon grinned, completely oblivious, and gave him a winning pose, just like when they'd first met.

"Not at all, dear Link." His hand lowered and his expression softened. "Listen, come see me tomorrow evening. We'll have dinner and I'll tell you all that I can remember of my sister. In return, you can tell me a tale of one of your more recent battles. Sound like a deal?" Link stared up at him in surprise, but he quickly nodded and gave him a wide smile. 

"Deal. I'll see you tomorrow, Prince Sidon." They exchanged a nod and, after Sidon collected his adornments he'd taken off prior, they went their separate ways to their own bedchambers. Feeling a bit lighter, it didn't take Link very long before he slipped into a deep sleep.

[zevlors-tail]

Hi hii!! May I get a matchup for one of Class 1A? I don't mind what gender because I think that both girls and boys are sexc *cough* anyways,, I have black- kinda wavy hair that goes right below my shoulders and I'm a person who's always laughing at terrible jokes I make because I'm a funny person haha- I also LOVE to draw and I would love for someone who showers me with affection because I'm very touched-starved like that 🥺🥺 thank you very much!!

Hi hi hi! I was so excited when I saw you sent a request in for a matchup because I love making friends and doing and writing stuff for them alsdjflsdj so uh yeah I had so much fun with this! <3 Also, I knew exactly who I shipped you with the second I finished reading this lol.

I ship you with: Mina Ashido!

-Okay firstly, she would absolutely shower you in attention, cuddles, snuggles, rub her face against yours, she’s just so touchy with you. She’s like that in general, but especially with her close friends, and even more so with you. She’ll just come up behind you with a “Whatcha doin, Y/N???” and drape her arms around your neck and down your torso. And even before you got together romantically, she would just casually cuddle you in the common area or in your rooms, and she didn’t really care if others saw or not.

-Will totally laugh at your jokes with you. She loves your sense of humor! Mina is another person who would definitely have inside jokes with everyone, and you two are always coming up with new ones. Contrary to you thinking that your jokes are terrible, she lives for them. She’ll sit there and hype you up and come up with terrible jokes with you. Sometimes both of you crack yourselves up so much that you can’t even get the joke out before you’re wheezing and wiping away tears from the corners of your eyes.

-The best part about the jokes? They start randomly. Both of you do it; you could just be sitting there studying or talking about something else entirely when it suddenly goes dead quiet for a moment, and then... “Hey, Y/N.” “Yeah?” “What did the socks say to the pants?” “I don’t know, Mina, what did they say?” “Sup, britches?” Cue the wild laughter and hollering. You’ve probably woken some others up in the middle of the night before during one of your sleepovers because of how much you make each other laugh.

-Mina loves your drawings. She’s so supportive of your work and will help you with it in any way she can! If you make her your muse, she’ll be head over heels for you in an instant. Not that she wasn’t already before, but she would really enjoy knowing she’s a source for your inspiration and passion. Also, Mina is hardly a serious person, but if you’re ever feeling down on yourself for how little you’ve drawn or like your your art isn’t good enough, she will 100% get serious with you and tell you how amazing your drawings are and how much hard work she sees you putting into them. She’ll make it her mission to build your self confidence back up.

-If she ever hears you say that you’re touch starved, you are NEVER getting rid of her. Like, ever. She will constantly be all over you 24/7 (as long as you’re okay with it) and holding you, cuddling you, and sneaking into your dorm to snuggle up to you at night. You’re not sure how many times the teachers have scolded her for that, but it’s way too many to count. You don’t mind though...she’s warm and soft and very very cuddly. :) She is a precious pink gremlin who loves you with her whole heart!

Fall Drabble: Hayrides 

I didn’t see a fall themed word in your ask so I just went ahead with this one, I hope that’s okay! Also I apologize for any spelling or grammar errors, the second half of this was written while I was v tired and it was not proof read at all.

“Alright, here we are. Please make sure to behave yourselves accordingly.”

Aizawa stood up and hopped out of the doors to the giant bus you’d been on for over an hour now, which prompted the other students to stand and stretch or grab their things before exiting the vehicle. You and Mina had been at the very back, so you relaxed a bit as everyone else filed out into the field filled with pumpkins.

“I can’t believe they’re really letting us take a field trip to a pumpkin patch this year. Isn’t this so awesome!?” Your girlfriend squealed beside you as she waved her arms around and jumped up in excitement. Her eyes shone bright with joy, and you found it adorable how she could be so full of sunshine over the smallest things. You were so glad she was a part of your life. “Do you think they have apple cider here? Awe, man I hope they do! I haven’t had any in ages.”

“I’m sure they do,” you replied as you finally stepped off the bus.

The field in front of you was filled with pumpkins for as far as the eye could see, and off to the left there was a small gravel road that led to a dusty old barn with chipping red paint and a few boarded up windows. In front of the barn was a peculiar booth setup, and as you read the sign above it, you nudged Mina in the side and pointed over in the general direction of the building. 

“I think I found your apple cider. Wanna go get some?” you asked with a grin.

“Oh, hell yes!”

The two of you made your way over and quickly got in line where you waited for what felt like forever before you were finally served. You reached your hand into your pocket to fish your wallet out and cover the cost, but Mina smacked your hand away and payed with her money instead before thanking the server.

“Why’d you do that? I’ve been saving up for this all week!” You pouted and whined, but she just brushed you off and smiled at you.

“Don’t worry about it. You know I love spoiling you!” Your pink counterpart giggled and bounced along next to you as you walked around the field looking at pumpkins after that. It didn’t take long to finish your drinks, and you were debating going back for another when a loud sound coming from the right caught the attention of both of you. “What do you think that is?” Mina asked you curiously. 

“It kind of sounds like...a tractor?” 

Sure enough, the giant machine was weaving it’s way through a beaten path in the middle of the pumpkin patch with a huge open trailer attached at the back. You watched as other students seemed to gather around it in anticipation for something. The tractor finally came to a stop a minute later by the entrance to the field, and some of your classmates hopped up onto the trailer bed where there were bales of straw for seats, and leaves scattered all over the floor amongst the loose strands of straw.

“It is a tractor, and they’re giving hayrides Can we go can we co can we go? Y/N please!” Mina begged. She clasped your hands in hers and shook them around as if that would help to convince you. Not that you needed any convincing, anyways. Of course you would go with her; all she had to do was ask.

“Let’s do it!” You tried to match her enthusiasm, but you weren’t sure anyone could outshine Mina, yourself included.

“Yassss! Come on then!”

The two of you scrambled your way over to the huge green tractor and hoisted yourselves up and into the trailer bed, greeting the other students as you did so. You spotted Ochaco and Midoriya on your right towards the end with Asui, Shouto and Iida were on your left, Tokoyami, Sero, Kaminari and Jirou were in front of you sitting in a neat line, and to your amazement, even Aoyama had tagged along. Mr. Aizawa sat at the very front of the trailer to oversee everyone and communicate with the driver, a stack of blankets in his hands in case anyone got cold.

As the tractor took off with a bumpy start, you accidentally lurched sideways into your girlfriend. She wrapped an arm around you to help keep you steady as you were all pulled along slowly, the holes in the ground making you bounce up and down every time the tractor drove over them. But you had to admit, this was fun. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been out to do something like this. Maybe when you were a kid?

“Aizawa sensei, can we have a blanket?” Mina asked, and suddenly there was something soft being thrown at you. Mina unfolded it carefully and tossed it around you both to keep you warm. You leaned further into her, glad to be with her on a perfect Fall day like this one.

What more could you ask for?

[sweet-steddie]

Love Fest (g.d. & e.d.)

Summary: You’re the Dolan twins’ little cuddlebug.

A/N: Hi there! I’m not new to writing fanfiction, but I am new to writing fanfiction about the Dolan twins. This is my first work about them and I hope it isn’t total shit. Whether you love it or you hate it, please leave feedback! If you think it isn’t half bad, please reblog. I’m taking requests, so please send them in! Here goes.

2.7k+

 It’s Friday afternoon. I don’t have any classes scheduled for the day, so I’ll count that as a win. I’m only wearing a giant t-shirt and a sports bra and panties; no pants. I’ll count that as a win, too. But I’m not satisfied, because I’m a brat.

 I heave a dramatic sigh. What’s taking so long? Where are they? I roll my eyes and groan out loud into the abyss. I pick up my phone for the umpteenth time and my sour pout is unrecognizable to my front facing camera so I have to physically type in my password, which is such a pain in the ass. I check my messages, because surely, I’m missing something. But nope. Nothing.

 I check the group message and the last text message is from Grayson and it says We’re gonna be filming for the next few hours but we’ll be back as soon as we can! Love you and I had liked it and that had been that. But that was forever ago. And I miss my boys. I miss them to the point where I’m quickly becoming grumpy.

 I check the time and realize that it’s only 2:15 in the afternoon, but still. It’s been four hours, four whole, entire hours, since I’ve seen my boys and that just simply won’t do. My resolve is nonexistent. I FaceTime Ethan out of pure desperation and it rings about 87 times before he answers. Just the top half of his face is in the frame, thick, arched brows raised in amusement and brown, droopy eyes alight with their usual mischief.

 “Hi,” his voice rumbles through the speaker and I already feel slightly more at ease. But my demeanor remains pouty and I don’t respond, just simply stare him down through the phone. “What’s the matter?” he coos gently, pulling his arm back so that I can now see his pretty face in its entirety. His pink lips are twisted into a mild pout as he awaits my response.

 I roll my eyes and pierce him yet again with another unwavering stare. “Eth,” I sigh, as if that’s enough of a substitute for a valid explanation. But he gets it. He and Grayson both always just get it. He sighs right back at me, giving me a sympathetic pout.

 “I know, babe. I know,” he soothes, doe eyes penetrating my heart in the dumbest, mushiest way possible. “I miss you. I’m sorry we had to leave, but this is the only day that me and Gray would be able to shoot. Gray,” he suddenly addresses Grayson, looking out of the frame and I assume that he’s summoning him over.

 Surely enough, Grayson pops into frame only moments later. His carefully defined jaw moves in a rhythm as he chews on his gum. His eyes, similarly droopy to Ethan’s, are soft and framed by angelic, long lashes as he stares me down through the screen. His hair is a bit messy, but in a way that lets me know that he styled it as such on purpose. He gives me a lopsided grin, dimple denting beautifully into the tan skin of his face.

 “Hi, beautiful. Whad’dya need?” he asks and my stomach flips at all of the implications that my mind stirs up from the question. Still, I keep my expression sour. I petulantly shrug my shoulders in response, opting out of a verbal reply. They both know what I need, but I suddenly feel too embarrassed to say it out loud. Grayson hums his acknowledgment, nodding his head in the affirmative.

 “We’ll be home in the next two hours, I promise. I miss you so much,” he reassures me and it’s ridiculous, really, how mushy we’re all getting over being separated for only four hours. But it’s just our dynamic. I groan at his answer, earning a sympathetic chuckle out of both boys.

 “Two hours? 120 minutes? Grayson,” I whine and this time, the boys give a full-out laugh. I don’t see what’s so funny, but I’m cracking a little smile of my own. My stomach sinks a little as their laughter dies down. My obsession with these two is bordering on unhealthy.

 “Two hours, baby. That’s all we need to finish filming and then we’re all yours.”

 “And you’re all ours,” Ethan chimes in, raising a single brow and causing me to flush from the innuendo. The three of us have never done anything explicitly sexual, but everyone seems to be under the impression that I’m dating both twins. Probably because we worship each other, but that’s just a hunch. Our relationship is unique and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I roll my eyes to play off Ethan’s comment, but I see that both boys are wearing twin smirks as they observe me.

 “What’re you guys filming about, anyway?” I ask to divert their attention momentarily.

 “We’ll show you the footage when we get home. You’re gonna love it. Ethan is such a fucking idiot,” Grayson explains, laughing out his last few words as he looks over at Ethan, who’s rolling his eyes and lightly shoving Gray’s shoulder in retaliation.

 “Asshole,” he mutters, but it’s good-natured and Grayson and I both share a laugh at his expense.

 “Can’t wait. I’ll see you guys in two hours, sharp,” I emphasize and the twins crack smiles. I salute them through the screen and go to end the call, but I’m quickly interrupted by Ethan.

 “Wait! Wait,” he exclaims, focusing the phone on only his face. I stare at him, silently giving him the go-ahead. “I love you. That’s it,” he says and I can’t help the cheesy grin that stretches across my face.

 “I love you more, Eth,” I don’t hesitate to reciprocate. The camera is in quick, blurry motion as the phone is seemingly yanked from Ethan’s hand and is all of a sudden focused on Grayson’s face, instead.

 “I love you more than he does,” Grayson professes and I laugh, my heart light from all the affection.

 “I love you too, Gray. So much,” I say and he looks off screen, presumably at Ethan, wearing a smug smirk. I hear Ethan squawk something out in protest that gets drowned out by Grayson’s raucous laughter. When he looks back at me, his eyes are considerably softer, big, goofy grin still in place.

 “Bye, sweetheart,” he says and I give a small wave before ending the call. God, I miss them.

——————

 It’s been an hour and 56 minutes since that FaceTime call and to say that I’m chomping at the bits is an understatement. I rewind the show that I’ve been watching on my laptop, once again having been too distracted to pay attention to the plot.

 I had figured that binging on a show while I waited for my twins to return would be a good pastime. It had worked for the first 45 minutes and then I was toast. I know that I’ll have to rewatch at least the last episode-and-a-half of the show that I’ve been binging. Was that the sound of a car pulling up? I violently push the space bar on my keyboard to pause the show before I detangle myself from the labyrinth of blankets that I had since swaddled myself in.

 I gallop to the front door, but quickly think better of it as I hear a key unlocking it. It’s embarrassing enough that I had to admit defeat and call Ethan only four hours into he and Grayson’s filming, but it would be beyond reproach for them to find me waiting at the front door like an excited puppy. I turn on my heel and begin a hasty retreat, but I walk a total of four steps before I hear the door being flung open and shortly after, I’m being encased by a strong set of tanned arms.

 “Where do you think you’re going?” I hear the distinct sound of Grayson’s voice in my ear as he pulls me flush against his hard torso, lips immediately finding a home between my chin and my shoulder and planting loud, smacking kisses on the side of my neck as he squeezes me tight. I giggle at the ticklish sensation and grab hold of each of his forearms which are cross-crossed over my torso. I enjoy his proximity for maybe a few seconds more before I hear Ethan voice his disdain.

 “Bro, chill. I haven’t even gotten to see her yet!” he complains. And Grayson twirls us around to face Ethan, resting his chin smugly on my shoulder as he stares at his brother.

 “There, now you’ve seen her,” he declares before preparing to spin us back around again. Ethan makes quick work of prying Grayson’s arms off of me and snatching me from his hold, pulling me into a hug, wrapping one big arm around my shoulders and the other around my waist as he holds me close. I instinctively latch onto him.

 “He was hogging you all to himself,” Ethan complains close to my ear before dropping a sweet kiss to my forehead.

 “You are so cheesy, dude,” Grayson says with disgust dripping from his words from somewhere nearby and my shoulders shake with silent laughter at their bickering. They know that their arguing never fails to leave me tickled and they often do it just to get a laugh or two out of me. It’s all in good jest.

 “Whatever dude, look where she is,” Ethan retorts, nodding down to where I’m encased in his protective hold.

 “Yeah, because you literally pulled her away from me, jackass,” comes Grayson’s deadpan response. I can’t help the laugh that escapes my parted lips at this and I look up at Ethan, who has a look of incredulity splashed across his pretty face. I reach out a hand to soothingly trace a few fingers along his rigid jawline.

 “Eth,” I giggle, hoping that it conveys my willingness to sooth him. He looks down at me and the harshness of his demeanor diminishes on the spot.

 “He’s being mean to me. He’s jealous that you like me more,” he declares and that sends me into another fit of flattered, embarrassing giggles, lightly pushing at his chest. I watch as a smile breaks out across his face, the satisfaction in getting me to laugh evident. If anyone else had used this childish attempt at flirting, I would’ve rolled my eyes at best. But Ethan somehow makes it work.

 “Okay, time’s up,” I hear Grayson behind me before I feel a strong hand gently pry me out of Ethan’s grip before entwining his fingers with mine and walking us toward the kitchen. I look over my shoulder and give a pouty face to Ethan, who’s now staring daggers at the back of Grayson’s head. I love you I mouth and he’s quick to mouth it back before rolling his eyes and shuffling off in the direction of his room.

 “E!” I call out to his retreating form, stopping Grayson and I in our tracks as I take a moment to worry about whether Ethan is genuinely ruffled. He turns to look at me and smiles.

 “Just changing into some sweats, babe. Make sure Grayson doesn’t cook something disgusting, please!” He gives a cheesy, sarcastic smile that shows all of his teeth, clearly directing it at Grayson.

 “When have I ever cooked anything disgusting, Ethan? You just don’t appreciate good food!” Grayson says in a booming voice a few decibels too high for being as close as he is to Ethan, but it’s something that I’ve grown more than accustomed to.

 “Grayson, stop yelling,” is all Ethan says as he finally retreats into his room, closing the door behind him. My amusement from the exchange is clear upon my face as I turn to face Grayson once again.

 “I’m not cooking him shit,” is all he says and I burst into laughter for the millionth time since the boys have come back home. He finishes guiding us into the kitchen and I perch myself on the counter top as he busies himself with gathering ingredients for whatever he’s about to cook. I take the opportunity to admire him while he isn’t looking; he’s donning a tight fitting white t-shirt that clings sinfully to his chiseled torso. He’s also wearing a pair of blue shorts that do wonders for his thick, inked thighs, which are gorgeously displayed given the rather short length of the material.

 “Do you want a burrito bowl?” He asks over his shoulder and I nod before realizing that he can’t see me.

 “Yes, please!” I affirm and he nods, continuing on his mission to prepare meals for us. He takes a moment to discard his shirt, flinging it somewhere in the direction of the pantry before busying himself once again and my mouth is damn near watering at the sight. His broad shoulders and strong back are on glorious display as he goes about making the most mundane tasks - oiling up a pan, turning the knob on the stove, sprinkling fucking salt - look sexy.

 “Did I hear you say you’re making burrito bowls?” Ethan asks as he waltzes into the kitchen, also shirtless, with a pair of grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. And honestly, I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve two handsome, shirtless, sculpted men who dote on me in my life. I really don’t, but I’m not complaining.

 “Yeah, you want one?” Grayson asks casually over his shoulder, as if he and Ethan hadn’t been bickering moments prior and as if Grayson hadn’t explicitly declared that he wasn’t going to make Ethan any food. That’s just how he and Ethan are; their arguments all last for a grand total of five minutes, at most, before they’re back to being the best of friends.

 “Yes please,” Ethan unintentionally mimics my earlier statement before walking over to where I’m sitting on the counter top and standing between my legs. He gathers me up into his warm, bare chest and lays his head on my shoulder. I rake my fingers through his soft curls without hesitation. “I’m so glad to be home. I missed you so fucking much today,” he mutters, but Grayson must hear him because he chimes in as well.

 “I missed you, too. We’re never leaving you here while we go film again, holy shit. It was awful,” he emphasizes, shaking his head as he stirs something around in the pan before him. My heart swells to about 20 times its size as I listen to these big, strapping men spilling their guts about me, to me. And suddenly, Grayson’s standing too far away.

 “Gray?” I call out quietly and he turns around to see my free hand that’s not raking through Ethan’s hair, beckoning him toward me. He gives me that lopsided grin that turns my insides to jelly before taking slow, calculated strides in my direction. He cradles my face with one hand and I latch onto his wrist as he leans in and peppers my face with kisses. I scrunch up my nose and accept his shower of affection with pure delight. On my other side, Ethan raises his head from my shoulder and my hand gently falls from his curls as he cups my face and begins showering me with kisses on that side of my face as well.

 I let a few girlish giggles escape me as the boys continue their playful attack. “Grayson, the food?” I manage to breath out when the aroma coming from the stove begins to increase in intensity. He sighs and pulls his lips from me only to rest his forehead on my cheek, eyes closed.

 “Fine,” he relents before begrudgingly returning to the stove. Meanwhile, Ethan’s attack continues before he’s throwing his arms around my shoulders and trailing his kisses downward, first a few near my mouth, several on my chin, and a few longer, more lingering ones on my neck before he buries his face there again and I resume raking my fingers through his hair again as if I had never stopped.

 “Enjoy it while you can, E,” Grayson says without even looking back, seemingly aware of how Ethan moulded himself to me once again as soon as he stepped away. “When you run off to play Fortnite later, she’s all mine,” he states. And my stomach flips at the thought. My boys are gonna be the death of me and it’s not a bad way to go.

[nevrgoinoutastyle2876]

Hey so I don’t normally posy other fandom stuff on here but this is my most followed account and I need some advice on a fic. It’s destiel, please tell me if it’s any good and if you like it I’ll post the link to the rest of the story

——————

"Very well. Have it your way," Crowley turned to Azazel and Alistair, "boys, shall we?" I saw a smirk cross all their features, and before I knew it, Crowley and the others were shoving me and my friends into the water.

My name is Castiel Novak, and I'm a mess.

One big giant mess. Let me tell you about my day, how it went from good to bad, and how I ended up getting pushed into a lake.

Today, it was summer. Well... months into summer. School would be starting in just about six days. I woke up to quickly find out that it was one of the hottest days of the year. The sun was beating down like thick blanket and never left the clear sky. If I had to guess I'd say the kids in my neighborhood were all playing in sprinklers and having fun, trying to make the most out of what little they had left of summer. Since school was starting very soon, I thought that I should possibly do the same thing, and make the most of what I had left of the season.

I woke up early in the morning. I traveled down the stairs to see an all to familiar view. My Dad was no where in sight, probably in his room writing. My mom was sitting at the kitchen counter reading a magazine, completely ignoring the chaos in the living room.

To tell the truth, what was happening in the living room wasn't all that bad, but, still disturbing. Even though I've seen a lot worse go down in that room. The tv was on and Gabriel, my little brother was sitting on the floor in front of it, constantly changing channels. Anna, my sister, sat on the couch. She was pressed all the way to the end of the couch, trying to still sit there while being as far away from the other end of the couch as she could.

Why was she trying to stay away from the other end of the couch you might ask? Well... Luci, my oldest brother, was there, and so was his boyfriend, Michael. Michael and Luci have been dating for about a year or so. I was shocked they'd made it this long, seeing at they were polor opposites. Michael graduated highschool with a perfect GPA and taking a all advanced courses, while being a star football player as well. Now, he's going to college and spends his free time either with Luci or shadowing the doctors at the hospital so that it'll be easier for him to get a job there. Probably as a heart surgeon or something. Also he had a spotless criminal record.

Meanwhile, Luci had probably all E's in his classes before he dropped out. Never once touched a football and spent most of his time smoking weed with the other bleacher-creatures during the games. He was not attending any colleges and was job-less. His free time was spent either with Michael or at the police station, and it sure as hell wasn't for volunteering. I remember a couple times mom and dad refused to bail him out, so Michael had to go do it.

So yeah, I'm shocked they made it a year. But anyways, right now Michael was over and sitting on the couch with Luci. Well, it was more like Michael was sitting on the couch and Luci was sitting on top of him. They were making out. It was disgusting.

They were making weird moaning noises as Michael's hands practically groped Lucifers torso and chest. I wanted to gag.

I soon decided very quickly that I didn't want to be here, so slipped out the front door before anyone would stop me. Mom and Dad never cared if we went anywhere so I figured they'd be fine if I just left for a little while.

I opened the door and quickly went outside. I closed the door behind me and took a step out into the morning air. If I had to guess I'd say it was about 9:00am, the sun was blazing across the sky as I sat down. I let the warm air and occasional cool breeze wash over me. It was one of those, buy ice cream, go to the beach, summer days. I wasn't much of an outside person, but I enjoyed them none-the-less.

I stood up in my short sleeve, buttoned, baby blue shirt, and jeans before I began to walk down the street. My friend Charlie lived a few blocks down from me, and a few blocks down from there lived Dorothy. See, I had friends, but, there was only two of them. I have known Charlie forever, so we were always close. We met when we were probably five. I remember being at the park with Luci when I saw a small red-headed girl fall from the jungle gym. She looked hurt so I ran from Luci to see if she was alright. She was bleeding, but shockingly, not crying. I went to the bench where Mom was. I rummaged in her purse for the Band-Aids I always made her keep in there for reasons such as this.

I helped the girl bandage her arm to stop the small amount of blood. When I finished she turned to me with an incredibly bright grin and said, "are we best friends now?" And ever since then, we've never left each other's side.

Then Charlie met this girl named Dorothy when we first started middle School in sixth grade. She was pretty badass for a twelve year old and she shockingly decided to sit with us. So she became part of our group too. Now sixteen and we were all inseparable.

Charlie was the fun nerd in our group, she always had the best and craziest ideas out of all of us. Her bright and spunky personality made her instantly loveable. Dorothy was a bit more grounded but was always up for adventure, so when Charlie got an idea, Dorothy was the one to make it happen.

I was the downer of the group I assumed, mainly because I always tried to talk them out of their crazy ideas. But they were both stubborn and I bet if they had the chance to go to Oz they would take it in a heartbeat. They never listened to me, and of course, dragged me along with them every time they were up to some shenanigan. Like the day Charlie said we should go downtown and take edgy pictures of the train tracks, so we could be douchy hipster wannabes. The next day Dorothy grabbed her camera and yanked us downtown to the train tracks. That day we almost got hit by said train on the tracks.

See what I mean? Bad Ideas. But I will admit, there has been some good ones. Like two summers ago we were all sitting at Dorothy's house, bored with nothing to do, so Charlie randomly said we should go into town and take some weird class. We spent the whole afternoon learning pottery and making clay. That was fun.

So, in conclusion, I love my friends and their idiotic selves. That's why I was on my way down there now, to go do something interesting. I approached Charlie's house very quickly. Her house was small, probably the smallest out of all our houses. She was an only child and therefore really didn't need that much space. Her house was painted a red-ish orange color, it was like a burnt faded orange kind of. I don't know how to describe it, but it was pretty. Her grass was bright green lined with pink flowers around the house. Cute little white shutters to match with the windows.

The door was a plain brown and I smiled at it before I knocked. I always liked her house. I waited only mer seconds before the door burst open. Charlie looked like she had just been running. She grinned at me when she saw me standing in the doorway.

"I saw you coming from my room and came running." So I was right. She waited a bit before turning to stick her head into the house, "MOM IM GOING OUT WITH CAS!" She called, slamming the door shut immediately after.

I smiled at her again as she linked her arm with mine and started off down the porch steps. Today Charlie was wearing baggy jean shorts that went down to her knees, as well as a Star Wars t-shirt. Her head phones were wrapped around her neck and the cord trailed down her back into her pocket, where her phone probably was.

"Anyways, hi best friend!" She finally greeted once we made it to the sidewalk. I couldn't help but smile, even if it was faint.

"Hello Charlie." I greeted back, watching her long red hair bounce with each step.

"I was hoping you would come by today." She told me, seeming determined. I tilted my head a bit.

"Oh? Why's that?" I asked curiously, taking notice we were on our way to Dorothy's.

"Cant I just wannna see my friend!?... Alsooo when you were sick last week, me and Dorothy went out and discovered something really cool. We gotta show it to you." She sounded excited and picked up her walking pace subconsciously.

We made it to Dorothy's shortly after leaving Charlie's. Dorothy come out almost as fast as Charlie had, giving us her signature smirk before heading out. She was wearing skinny jeans and a brown shirt with her brown hair in a side bun. She was gorgeous I always thought, but not that I was into that kinda stuff.

We started walking down the road together, I started to sweat.

"Man it's hot out." Dorothy complained, sighing and wiping her forehead. Charlie smirked,

"Well duh, that's cuz I'm out here bitches," she grinned as Dorothy gave her a playful shove. I smiled shyly.

"Shut up," she told Charlie, still grinning, then laughing.

"So can anyone tell me where we are going." I asked curiously, changing the topic. I noticed Dorothy smirking.

"You'll have to wait." She told me, causing Charlie to suppress a smirk. I frowned.

"Guys, we are getting far away from town and-" I was quickly cut off by Charlie.

"Oh my gosh Cas, don't be such a stick in the mud. We'll be fineee." She urged, but I wasn't convinced.

"It's just that, you guys don't always have the best ideas..." I mumbled. Charlie looked fakely offended.

"How?!" She questioned while I just looked down sheepishly.

"Well, like... The train incident... that time you almost got us stuck on a flight to India, or when you and Dorothy got me to join your prank fight and we got covered in quick drying paint. Or when we went to the movies and that guy-"

"Okay, okay! You've made your point!" She informed quickly, a flustered blush forming on her face. I couldn't help my grin just a little bit.

After walking for what felt like forever, we were at what I thought was the edge if town. We lived in Michigan, smack dab in the center of the glove, in a town that, if you walked far enough, it turned into all wilderness. I think that's where we were now because on our very long walk we passed a bunch of trees and ponds. Now we were at the end of the dirt road, the very end before it faded into trees.

I would say I was scared, I would say being in the woods made me uncomfortable, I would say we should head back, but, I love nature. Nature is calming and beautiful, how could I say to turn back when we are in the best part of our town?

Charlie turned to me and grinned, Dorothy walked ahead of her. While Dorothy cleared the path, Charlie grabbed my hand and pulled me over to the opening Dorothy made by moving tree branches.

"Close your eyes." Charlie told me, and started guiding me through the forest.

"Please don't run me into anything." I pleaded, not fully trusting my red-headed friend. I could practically feel her eye roll.

"I won't," she grumbled, even thought she probably had been planning too before I stopped her.

"We're here!" Dorothy said, excitement filling her voice. Charlie smiled brightly and let go of my hand.

"Open!" She commanded cheerfully. I let my eyes flutter open and widen at the sight in front of me.

It was an absolutely beautiful lake.  It seemed almost deserted. No one was here and it appeared to be a place where no one ever went. The sun was shining bright and created a sparkling reflection in the crystal water. Trees surrounded the entire lake, lillypads and cat tails laid where the water meets the grass. Flowers, exotic ones that were bright orange and neon pink were also by the trees. I was shocked.

I took a step forward and grinned wide. I turned my head back to my two friends who stood behind me.

"How did you-" I started to ask how they found it, but Dorothy was already answering.

"Find it? Easy. We were going for a walk in the woods when, poof! Here it was! No one was here, and we knew we had to show you." She told me, smirking proudly as her and Charlie came closer to stand next to me.

"Well... I love it..." I stutter, speechless. I heard Charlie laugh next to me but I couldn't drag my eyes away from the beautiful sight to look at her.

I wasn't sure how long we had been there. It was a while that's for sure. We sat on the edge of the grass, our feet hanging in the water. We were just chatting about school and such when we heard something. It was yelling and laughing in the distance. The noises we're coming closer and I tensed. I recognized the noises all to well.

It sounded like Crowley and his friends. Fergus Crowley MacLeoud was his full name, but he had everyone call him Crowley. He was basically the head jock at school, despite him not being particularly that athletic. He somehow still made the football team and managed to be the most popular boy in school. He hung out with Azazel, Alistair, Lilith, Abbadon, and a few other of the popular kids. He didn't even like Abbadon, hated her to be exact, but still hung out with her because she was popular and head cheerleader. Lilith was another cheerleader, and incredibly beautiful at that, but very rude, she also had a little sister four years younger in Gabriel's grade. Her name was Ruby. Azazel and Alistair were just super creepy and rude. I hated them both, they always wanted to pick on someone. That someone usually being me.

They all seemed to follow Crowley blindly, except Abbadon, but she cooperated. I could hear their annoying screams and laughs getting closer, so I decided to stand. Charlie saw and stood too. Dorothy looked up at us both.

"Guys, it's okay, nothing's is gonna-" I knew Dorothy was gonna say nothing was gonna happen, and that we'd be fine, but she couldn't. That was because guess who came through the trees.

Crowley and his friends. I'm not typically one for swearing, but I really wanted then to f-off. Dorothy saw them and finally stood as well, glaring a bit as she watched the tree branches move, revealing them all.

"Well, well, well..." Crowley announced in a British accent. Today he was wearing black jeans and a black v-neck t-shirt. Lilith wore a white sun dress and Abbadon wore a t-shirt saying, "the devil made me do it," and jeans. Everyone else wore very similar clothes to Crowley.

"Why are you here?" Dorothy asked bravely. Crowley grimaced.

"This is our spot so I'll have to ask you the same question." He growled, clearly very annoyed. Charlie jumped next to me.

"Anyone can come here, it's not just your spot." Dorothy spat, taking a step closer. No no Dorothy stop. Why do you have to be so brave?

"I suggest you leave before someone gets hurt." Abbadon threatened, pointing a pale, flawless, slender finger at Dorothy. Her nail was long and painted a bright shade of red that matched her lips perfectly.

But obviously, Dorothy wasn't going to back down. "Excuse you, but who the hell do you think you are. You don't own us." She snarled in return. Abbadon looked offended at her words, almost recoiling. A scowl formed on her sharp features. Then before I knew it, Crowley, Azazel, and Alistair were walking over.

I gulped, wishing that Dorothy just kept her mouth shut. Crowley stood right by us with his minions behind him.

"Leave." His one word filled the whole forest with venom and left a sting right in my throat because suddenly I couldn't speak. And even though Crowley was shorter then me, chubbier then me, and probably less strong, the way he carried himself made him so much more intimidating then I ever could be.

"We aren't leaving." Dorothy stated harshly. Crowleys stern facial features quickly changed and he back away from me and grinned.

"Very well. Have it your way," Crowley turned to Azazel and Alistair, "boys, shall we?" I saw a smirk cross all their faces, and before I knew it, Crowley and the others were shoving me and my friends into the water.

If someone reads this and likes it, please let me know and I'll post more chapters

[justwritingscibbles]

Don’t Leave Me

Commissioned by the lovely @lovejanetteadams for the anon who requested a deathly ill reader x Phantom angst fic. This was commissioned for you in the spirit of giving!! 

I hope you enjoy. 

Warnings: ANGST!!! LIKE...A LOT!

Want a Commission? See Prices Here

Phantom was up earlier than usual. He stretched lazily and turned over in his bed. Your warm body was instantly cuddled into as he reached out. Gently dragging you back into his embrace as he tucked the blankets better around the two of you. 

You murmured a drowsy greeting and Phantom pressed a kiss to your shoulder. He said nothing, only snuggled into your form and sighed in blissful contentment.  You two stayed like that for another hour. Letting the morning pass you both by as the day began to start outside your windows. Cars drove pass and people walked by on the sidewalk. You could hear the club downstairs begin to bustle with cleaners and workers. Here to do their daily routine after a hard night of customers.  Phantom had a suite on the top floor of his busiest and best club. And it was this very luxurious and expensive looking place that you and he spent most of your nights. Especially on your weekends and his rare few days off from work.

“I need to pee.” You mumbled suddenly. Phantom barked a soft chuckle and squeezed your waist tighter. Making you groan in annoyance and slight discomfort as your bladder was compressed. 

“But we were having such a nice cuddle session.” Phantom whined. His grip tightening as you tried to squirm out from under his arms. 

“And we can continue the cuddling after I visit the bathroom.” You replied. Laughing as Phantom gave an exaggerated groan and rolled onto his back. Releasing you from his grip and allowing you to bound from the bed and run to the bathroom. You slammed the door shut and Phantom sighed when he felt your side of the bed begin to lose it’s warmth. 

He loved these days. Where there was absolutely no need to get up. No rush. No business calls. Just you, him and the plush blankets of the bed.  If he could buy this moment and have it every morning, he’d gladly spend every cent to keep this bliss. 

Phantom looked over to the door as he heard the toilet flush. You hurried back to bed. Throwing yourself over Phantom as you leapt onto the mattress. Phantom laughed and grabbed you. His lips capturing your mouth as he rolled you under him. Laying himself on top of you so you were basically trapped beneath him.  You didn’t mind. You wrapped your arms around his bare torso and gladly melted into the kiss. 

“I love you.” Phantom hummed against your lips. You felt his heart-beat thundering against your chest. “So much, baby. I’m sorry days like this don’t happen as often as they should.” 

You hushed him with another feather light kiss against his lips. Pulling him down so you could embrace him properly. Your hands running down his back and up to his hair; where you entangled your fingers with the silky smooth strands. 

“I love you, too, Phantom. And don’t worry. I’m not so needy that you need to be with me 24/7. I’m an adult... in most ways. Plus...” You paused your sentence to kiss his cheek and playfully tap his nose. “Days like this are something to look forward too. Give me a sense of hope during a horrible, terrible, agonising week.”

Phantom smiled. Those three words catching most of his attention. He didn’t say it much. And he kicked himself for it too. He wanted to show you his affections in all ways possible. Gifts, kisses, hugs, small touches, soft spoken words or songs written in devotion to you. Theatre shows displaying his love through actors or giant bill-boards of a photo with the two of you.  Of course, he knew most of those things were a bit too much. But it was what he knew you deserved. What you should deserve.  Phantom lifted his hand to trail his fingertips along your jawline. Watching your chest rise and fall with every breath. The way your hair fell over your cheeks when you moved. He loved every little thing about you. Whether you saw it as imperfection of your body, or not. You were just.... perfect to him. 

“Phantom, you’re doing it again.” You whispered. Your smile was wide and flustered as Phantom rolled his eyes. The glazed look in his gaze flickering back into reality. 

“You’re distracting. I can’t help it.” Phantom said defensively. Playfully pinching your sides. Laughing when you yelped; your body convulsing on instinct. 

“Hey! No tickling. You promised.” Your pout was the most adorable thing about you. And Phantom had so many photos on his phone of your smile and pouts. Even though you hated selfies. Phantom loved you too much to pass the opportunity to capture and frame a moment.

“I only promised because last time we had a tickle fight, you broke a lamp.” Phantom reminded you. Laughing when you playfully smacked his arm. 

“You broke that lamp. I was only a witness to your shame! You thrash like a fish out of water when you’re tickled.” You scoffed. Smiling at the memory of the loud crash of broken porcelain and glass. The defending silence as you and Phantom both stared at the broken shards with shocked expressions. And then, the eruption of laughter when you two looked at each other.  In all honesty, you didn’t know who broke the lamp. You were both a little hysterical.

Phantom only rolled his eyes and kissed the top of your head. He rolled off you and then got to his feet, slipping on a deep red bath-robe to protect himself from the chill morning air.  “So, what would my love want for breakfast, hmm?” Phantom asked. Snatching up his cane and giving it a showy twirl between his fingers. The glass orb glowed a bright purple. Awaiting Phantom’s commands on who to summon. He had three chiefs within the orb, always ready to cook and prepare your meals for you. 

You yawned and shivered at the loss of Phantom’s body heat. You curled up under the covers; thinking of different things you’d think would be a good breakfast. But unfortunately, your stomach was not in the mood to give a proper answer. It only gave a painful twitch at the thought of food.  You frowned and shook your head. Cuddling into the pillows as you felt a wave of drowsiness come over you. 

“Maybe a little later. I’m not hungry yet.” You told Phantom. And the man frowned. Worry creasing his forehead as he came around to your side of the bed and sat next to you. He laid the back of his hand against your head. Feeling only a slight warmth there, Phantom sighed and moved his hand to rest over your hip. 

“(Y/N), you’ve barely eaten the last few days. And, to be honest love, I’m sensing there is something wrong.” Phantom’s playful tone lowered into concern. He had been sensing a drop in your Soul. The colours were dulling and something within you was growing. He didn’t know what, but he just knew it was beginning to effect you more. 

You hummed thoughtfully. Knowing that it was unusual for you to stay in bed for so long. And to refuse breakfast from a 5-star chief? You had an inkling you must be getting sick.  “Would you be able to make a doctors appointment for me?” You asked. You hated the doctors but you knew that you wanted to put this behind you. 

Phantom nodded and leaned down to press a kiss against your temple. “I’ll go and get the Doctor I go too. She’ll know how to help. Stay put, alright? And call me if you need anything.” 

                             ---------(One Month Later)---------

Phantom hasn’t moved from your beside in two weeks. He’s had his Collected go and get him food and water. He only leaves if it’s life or death. He lays next to you in the hospital bed. Careful of the tubes and drips that hooked you up to the machines. He spoke to you in a gentle tone. Clutching your hand with the utmost care.  As if he’d break you if he held on too tightly. And he was terrified he was going to. Even a small kiss to your pale pink lips made him worry. 

“Phantom...” Your laboured voice woke him from his half sleep. Your fingers loosely gripped his. The small amount of strength you had was set on keeping a hold of him. You were scared. Just as he was. And you didn’t want to let go, in case you fell away from him. “I love you.” 

Phantom’s lips trembled as he pushed forward a smile. He lifted his hand, the one that wasn’t clutching onto you, and cupped your cheek tenderly. His lips pressed a feather light kiss to your forehead and he rested his cheek against your hair.  “I love you too, (y/n).” Phantom whispered to you. His chest squeezed as he held back his sorrow. He could feel you slipping away. Your once bright and vibrant Soul was fading. Slipping out of his vision as your breaths became more laboured. 

His entire being screamed for him to take you. To nurture your Soul into the Orb where he can keep you safe and with him forever. But he left it too late. Your Soul was dying. You were dying. And if he were to take you now, you’d forever be trapped in this tormented state. Phantom, even though he loved you, you were his everything. His world. His stars and moon. 

He could never keep you in such pain. Even if he was selfish, he loved you too much to do such a thing to you. 

“I’m going aren’t I...” You sighed. And Phantom nodded. A tear slipping from his lashes as he moved closer against you. He hugged you tight. A soft sob escaping his lips as he whispered to you. 

“I’m sorry. I should have done more.” 

“You did all you could.” You replied. A smile, that wonderfully beautiful smile. Now becoming a bitter sweet memory to him. 

“Please don’t leave me.” Phantom wept. Hugging you so close now that you were buried against his chest. He was trembling. Holding you as if he could keep your Soul inside you. Keep it burning bright and with him. 

“I love you.” You whispered. And Phantom cried out as the last bit of light in you faded away. The machines confirmed what he already knew as he wailed into your hair. Begging you to come back. But you were gone. Travelling somewhere Phantom could never follow.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Fall Together (Grayson Series) 5

Warnings : cheating

Word Count : 1507

Daisy’s Point of View

Valentine's Day inched closer, and the girls in my class were talking about the plans their boyfriend's had for them. All of them gushing, and trying to one up each other. I could feel my heart break as I played with my engagement ring, thinking of Chris so far away. I wish I could take time off of my classes and go back, even for the weekend to be with him. Class ended, and I gathered my books and my laptop into my bag, and slowly walked out of class. An arm was slung over my shoulder, and I immediately knew it was Gray. "Why so glum, chum?" He asked, a small smile on his face.

"I forgot that Valentine's Day is just around the corner." His smile fell slightly, but then he beamed, walking in front of me, then stopping. I almost bumped into him, but stopped to look up at him.

"We'll do something. I'll plan everything." I smiled, thinking about how absolutely sweet Grayson was. How is he still single? He's so genuine and caring, and very easy on the eyes. I agreed, thanking him for being such a great friend. Did his smile falter when I said that? Maybe I'm just seeing things.

When class ended a few days later, I jumped up, excited to see Grayson. He told me he had the most perfect Valentine's Day planned for us, and I was so ready for it. I slung my bag over my shoulder, and made my way towards the doors, my heels echoing down the hallway. I ran up to him when I saw him, throwing my arms around him. He picked me up and spun me around, and then placed a single daisy in my hand. "Because your name is Daisy." He beamed. I rolled my eyes, but honestly I loved it.

"I'm so excited to see what you have planned." He wrapped his arm around me and led me to his car. He opened the door for me, and in the backseat was a giant teddy bear holding a heart shaped box of chocolates. "You really pulled out all the stops, hey Gray?" His entire face flushed pink and he scratched the back of his neck. "Thank you."

"Anything for you, princess." He closed the door, and got in on his side. "Did Chris call you this morning?" He asked as he started the car. Chris texting me last night, promising to call me in the morning due to the fact we couldn't see each other on Valentine's Day. I shook my head, playing with my ring again.

"I haven't heard his voice since I left. He texts me every once in a while, but he hasn't called me like he promised he would." Gray reached over, taking my hand in his, and giving me a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sure he just got busy." I know he's just trying to comfort me, but I could see in his eyes, even he didn't believe that.

"Let's forget about him. You said you have the best day planned for us." I smiled, and he nodded. I was so ready to forget about Chris and all of his broken promises for a day.

Grayson began driving, and we passed all the places we normally go to, giving me a hint that we were doing something completely different. We were still holding hands, and honestly, it just felt right. I smiled, looking over to him as he focused on the road. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit, his muscles practically bulging out of the arms of the jacket. I leaned my head on the headrest as I continued to look at him, studying all of his features, still wondering how a man like him was still single. "Enjoying the view?" He joked, looking over at me for a second.

"In your dreams, G." He let out a hearty laugh, and it caused my heart to skip a beat. As I opened my mouth to say something, my phone went off, my mother's ringtone filling the car. Gray turned off the soft music so I could answer the phone. "Hey mom."

"Why didn't you tell me, honey? I'm so sorry." I furrowed my brows, confused.

"Mom, what are you talking about?"

"Why didn't you tell me you and Chris broke up?" My heart sunk. We broke up? But he just texted me last night, telling me how much he misses me, how much he loves me. A tear slipped from my eye.

"Mom, we didn't break up. Why are you saying that?" Another tear.

"I'm on a date, and Chris is here. With Jennifer." I went silent, not sure what to say. Maybe they were doing what Gray and I were. Being each other's Valentines since Chris and I were so far away from each other. "Honey I'm so sorry."

"Maybe they're just out as friends." I tried to reason. Trying not to let my heart break into a million pieces. I fiddled with my ring. "He wouldn't do this. We're getting married." I whispered. Grayson kept looking over at me, concern filling his eyes.

"I don't think so. They look really close." I took a deep breath. "Honey, I'm so sorry."

"It's okay, mom. I'm fine. Enjoy your date, you'll have to tell me about this guy later!" We said our goodbyes, and Grayson looked at me, asking me what happened. "He's cheating on me. With his ex." Well she's here and you're not. And you know what happened when she left. His words from before Christmas rang through my mind. Was he cheating on me even then?

"Princess, I'm so sorry." I smiled over at Gray.

"You know, I think I knew we weren't going to last." My heart hurt a lot, and I really hoped Chris would be my forever, but there was a feeling in my stomach that told me that it wasn't meant to be. "Let's forget about Chris. This day is about us." Grayson gave me a small smile as he pulled into a parking lot. In front of us was one of the fanciest places I'd ever seen.

"It's a movie theatre, but they serve you like a restaurant. So dinner and a movie in one."

After the movie, Grayson took me back to my dorm, and he carried the bear for me. We hung out in my dorm for a while, watching Netflix as we always did, my head in his lap as he played with my hair. I could feel myself drifting off to sleep, and Grayson kissed my temple, telling me to rest if I was tired.

I woke up the next morning to my phone going off. My eyes crinkled when I opened them, not wanting to get up. I reached towards my bedside table, feeling something on top of me. I looked beside me, smiling when I saw Grayson, his arm loosely across my torso. My phone started going off again, causing me to turn my attention towards that instead of Gray. "Hello?" I answered, rubbing my eyes.

"I'm so sorry baby, I got really busy yesterday at work and couldn't call you." I gulped, soon realizing who it was. He was lying right to me, and it just confirmed the fact that he was cheating on me.

"I know." I said quietly. He breathed a breath of relief. "I know you were out with Jennifer." I continued. "I know you're cheating on me." Grayson was stirring in bed before sitting up himself. My eyes met his as the tears began to fall.

"Daisy, where is this coming from?"

"My mom saw you. Please stop lying to me. Stop pretending you love me."

"I told you it's not pretend. I love you."

"If this is how you show someone you love them, I don't want it. Goodbye, Chris." He called out my name as I removed my phone from my ear and ended the call. "He wouldn't admit it." I said softly. Grayson wrapped me up in his arms and rubbed my back in comfort.

"It'll be okay." He whispered into my hair. I focused on Grayson's scent, focused on his arms around me, and his words of comfort, and soon my sobs subsided. "Let's get ready for class." He said softly, wiping away the remains of the tears on my face and then kissed my forehead. I agreed, getting out of bed. "I'm going to head to my dorm and get dressed. I'll see you after class." He put his suit back on, and waved goodbye. I felt lonely when he left. More lonely than my first day here. But, I took a deep breath and put some different clothes on. I looked down at the ring on my finger, and slid it off, setting it on my desk before I swung my bag over my shoulder, and left for class. As heartbroken I felt in this moment, I knew Grayson was going to put all my pieces back together.

[sammysdewysensitiveeyes]

@thecorteztwins

So, I wound up writing another piece of that “Fabian and Maximus kidnap Luna” scenario, this time from Luna’s perspective.  This is kind of turning into a fan-fic, but feel free to tell me to stop, or tell me to do specific things in the story, since I am using your ideas here.  If I manage to keep this up, I think the next scene will be Fabian’s perspective at the mall, pretending to be Luna’s two dads. 

(Also, I’m pretty sure that Fabian didn’t actually kidnap Luna to “teach Quicksilver a lesson,” but I figure that’s how he’d explain it to her.  Maximus and Fabian are both entirely full of bullshit most of the time.)

           Luna was used to being alone.  Inhuman parents didn’t hover over their children constantly the way human parents seemed to, and royal Inhuman parents even less so.  Her mother was constantly away on some kind of official business, like long, boring meetings or fancy dinners, or dealing with yet another crisis that threatened to destroy the entire city.  Other children took lessons together, but as a princess, Luna was given private tutors.  She’d outgrown nannies, so she was usually on her own when lessons were over. At least when Ahura was around they could play together, when he wasn’t moody and moping.  

           Being alone at the Avengers compound was nothing new, either.  Her father had dashed away to deal with the Wrecking Crew destroying buildings in downtown New York.  At least they were living up to their names.  According to her father, they usually stole things and robbed banks, which seemed weird, since they didn’t call themselves the Bank Robbing Crew.  Luna knew she shouldn’t mind, it was her father’s job to fight bad guys and save people, but he’d promised her that they’d go out for ice cream that afternoon.  And there were so many Avengers, did he really have to go?  He could fight bad guys any time, but Luna would only be staying with him another month before heading back to Attilan (assuming her mother didn’t forget because the Kree attacked or Attilan fell into a time portal or whatever).  

           So Luna was sitting on the couch watching Steven Universe, and feeling very sorry for herself, because this was supposed to be Luna and Dad time, and she was alone again.  The cartoon cheered her up a little bit.  The show was about magic sentient space gems, which was a really neat idea, and they had cool designs, and sometimes there were songs.  But mostly, Luna could totally relate to the main character being a half-human, half-alien hybrid, struggling to fit into either world.

           Absorbed in the show, Luna didn’t look up when the door opened.  Two of the gems had fused into some kind of giant woman, and were fighting weird bird monsters.  It wasn’t until someone picked up the remote and switched the TV off that Luna looked up.

           One man she didn’t recognize.  He was kind of handsome, except for the haughty expression on his face.  He was wearing coveralls and a hat, but she could see wisps of red hair peeking out around his face, and a long ponytail down his back.  His emotions were much uglier.  Luna could see golden pride running through his psyche, polished to an arrogant gaudiness.  The too-bright gold color was twined with sharp neon green malice, a rich, luxurious royal purple of greed, and tightly coiled spirals of orange anxiety.  This wasn’t a good sign.  

           The other man was Uncle Maximus, which was an even worse sign.  He was wearing the same coveralls and cap, reminding Luna of the work clothing that he often wore in the Chamber of Devices.  The anxiety inside him was tinted white, closer to excitement, lying in tangled knots across the same garish pride Luna saw in the other man.  Uncle Max’s emotions were far less orderly, though. His psyche was a polychrome nightmare, constantly shifting like a stained glass window come to life, colors clashing as they shot jagged spikes across his torso.   The only constant was the black.  It wasn’t like the cool pools of blue-black calm inside Uncle Black Bolt, it was a writhing darkness that reached out to stain any color that came into contact with it.   It twisted through her uncle’s body, coiling into his brain, wrapped around his heart. Or maybe it was coming out of his heart? It was hard to tell.  

           “Oh, hi Uncle Max!”  Luna said, not quite sure yet whether she should be worried. Somewhere in the rainbow mess, she could see a faint pink of affection.  “Are you bad again?”

           “I’m never bad, dear child,” Maximus cooed, in a tone more oily than honeyed.  “Others label me so because they don’t have the mental capacity to understand my actions.”

           “Oh.  That sounds like you’re bad again.”      

Luna was never really clear on whether she should be afraid of her uncle.  She had first heard of Maximus as a kind of boogeyman, someone that her tutors spoke of in fearful whispers.  He’d seemed to fit that description when Medusa dragged her down to his dark cell, a soft-spoken monster hiding behind a smiling mask.  Despite his kind behavior (he even explained things to her like she was a grown-up!), talking with him felt a little like cuddling up to a tiger. He seemed to change every time Luna saw him – one day cold and sly, the next day practically jumping up and down with excitement while explaining one of his machines.  He certainly didn’t remain soft-spoken, he got very shouty when his emotions boiled over inside him in an eruption of colors.

Even the adults couldn’t seem to decide how to treat him – he was locked away in a dark dungeon forever, he was ruling Attilan, he was the family’s trusted scientific expert, he was trying to kill everyone, he was building machines for Black Bolt, he was a prince to be respected, he was a reviled lunatic.  No one trusted him, but Crystal had left Luna in his care when she and the rest of the family went to rescue Uncle Black Bolt and Ahura from the Skrulls.  (He hadn’t hurt her then, only talked to her for hours in a way that sounded very much like he was talking to himself.) Was Uncle Maximus good or bad or brilliant or crazy or all of those things?  He certainly wasn’t the nightmare under the bed any more.  Lately, Luna had started to think of him as a badly-behaved child, hiding behind a grown-up mask.

           “What does ‘bad’ even mean, really?”  Maximus asked, taking her by the arm.  “A word to keep people in their place.  It’s a word for the peasants, Luna, not for us. Royalty is beyond good and bad.”

           “I really don’t think that’s true Uncle Max,” Luna said, letting herself be pulled up away from the TV.  She’d seen this episode, anyway.

           “You’ve obviously been spending too much time with these humans, you’re starting to absorb their mindset.  You need to be back with your own people.”

           “Is that where you’re taking me?  Back to Mom and Aunt Medusa?”  Maximus grinned broadly at her.

           “Yes, child, exactly!”  Bright flashes of sickly pale blue inside him screamed insincerity.

           “Really?”

           “Well, we’ll go back to Attilan eventually, but first you can spend some fun time with your Uncle Max and my….associate here. I’ll teach you all sorts of interesting things.  Your education has been far too neglected.”

           “I don’t wanna learn.”  Luna wrinkled her nose as she paused, not letting herself be pulled any further.  Maximus paused with her, apparently unwilling to yank her along.  “I’m supposed to be on vacation from school.  Can’t we do something fun?”

           “Yes, poppet, we’ll do all sorts of fun things,” Maximus promised, and the blue blended with a forest green that suggested he was at least partially telling the truth.

           “For God’s sake, Maximus, just grab the kid,” interrupted the man with the ponytail, annoyance flashing a jagged red.  “We need to get out of here before anyone else walks in.”

           “Watch your tongue, Cortez!” Maximus snapped. “Luna is a princess of Attilan and she will be treated with respect.  Even if she’s part mutant, poor thing.”  He patted Luna on the head at that last comment.  Luna was used to this kind of talk.  Most citizens of Attilan approached her half-breed status with something between barely disguised contempt, or, at best, horrified fascination and pity.  She didn’t see why it was such a bad thing.  Her father had powers just like Inhumans, better powers than most of them!

           “That’s her better half, anyway,” the man grumbled. “Mutants will inherit this world.” Uncle Max waved his hand dismissively.

           “Can I say good-bye to Mr. Jarvis before we go? And I should leave a note for my Dad -” Maximus’ grip on her arm tightened. Luna was suddenly completely certain that she was being kidnapped.  It was hardly the first time.

           “Let’s not bother Mr. Jarvis right now, he’s very busy,” Maximus said quickly.  “Don’t worry, we’ve already told Quicksilver that we’re coming to pick you up.” Luna’s father would never in a million years agree for Maximus to take Luna back to Attilan.  He was the only grown-up who’d always been consistent in his opinion of Uncle Max – namely that they should lock him up and throw away the key.

           “Wait, let me get my clothes!  And my toothbrush!  I can’t go without my toothbrush, can I?”  If Uncle Max let her go to her room, Luna could leave a note for her father.  Or even make a run for it.  Maybe she could hide in one of the many spare rooms until the Avengers came back.

           “You don’t need all that, poppet.  We’ll buy you some new clothes.  We’ll have a shopping spree, won’t that be nice?”  Now Maximus was pulling her towards the door again, so that Luna had to stumble along to keep up.  Luna made a frustrated sound, not quite a growl or scream, just a long “Rrgggghhhh….”

           “Quiet!”  ordered the pony-tailed man.

           “Uncle Max, if you’re gonna kidnap me, can’t I at least take my clothes along?  And my DS? It gets really boring being kidnapped!”

           “What does ‘kidnap’ even mean, really?  Just another silly word,” Maximus said cheerfully. Luna rolled her eyes and thought about screaming at the top of her lungs.  That would at least bring Mr. Jarvis from the kitchen.  But Mr. Jarvis didn’t have any powers, and he’d try to stop them.  Luna was fairly sure that Uncle Maximus would not hurt her.  But he would probably hurt Mr. Jarvis.  Screaming was out.    

           “It means you’re taking me someplace I don’t wanna go!” Luna snapped, as they went through the main doors towards the stairs.

           “But you do want to go with us,” Maximus insisted.  “We’re family.  Family members can’t kidnap each other, right?  We’re going to buy you some lovely new things, and have a really fun time together!”

            “That’s right!” agreed the pony-tailed man, smiling as if it hurt him to do so. “We’re great fun!”

           Luna fumed quietly as they went down the stairs. She didn’t think she could use her powers on both of them at once.  It was really hard to use her powers on Uncle Max, anyway, like trying to run underwater. If she tried he would fight, and then the other man, “Cortez,” would probably do something nasty to her.  It would be easier to take over Cortez, but then Uncle Max would use his own powers to stop him.  She wished desperately for her mother to appear and light both men on fire (not like, completely on fire, just enough to hurt them a little.  Maybe just their toes.)  She wanted her father to zip up the stairs and whisk her away, safe in his arms.  But neither of them did, because they were busy.

           They were always busy.  For a moment Luna hated her entire stupid family.  This wouldn’t be happening if either of her parents had been there, like parents were supposed to be.  Maybe they’d finally learn their lesson when her father came back and found her gone.  She smiled a little to herself, imagining her father dropping to his knees and weeping.

           “Oh Luna, how could I have left you all alone? We should have gone out for ice cream like you wanted!”  He would wail.  “How could I have ever considered anything more important than my precious daughter?” Crystal would join him, and they would cry into each other’s arms.  “Our daughter is gone forever because we were such bad parents!  By Randac, I swear if Luna comes back safe I’ll never make her do boring algebra worksheets ever again!”

           Luna was so caught up in fantasy that she barely noticed as they exited the building and climbed into a van.  She realized as the doors shut that she should have gotten a look at the license plate, but it probably didn’t matter.  If this was a kidnapping (and it totally was!), Uncle Max would announce himself to the family soon enough and make a big showy spectacle out of it.  He was “extra,” a human word that Luna had learned from She-Hulk.  And maybe it wouldn’t hurt that her parents would worry about her for a little while – maybe they should.

           Maximus was strapping her into the backseat while Cortez got into the driver’s seat.

           “Where did you get this Uncle Max?  You didn’t do something bad to someone, did?”  

           “Nooooo, of course not,” Maximus tried to assure her as he settled into the front passenger seat.  “A nice man gave it to me.”

           “Oh.”  Luna mentally supplied quotes to the word “gave,” just hoping that her uncle hadn’t hurt the man.  “Are you Uncle Max’s friend?”  She asked Cortez, who was driving them towards the gate.

           “We are…associates.  Partners, you could say,” Cortez said, glancing back at her. “Listen child, I know we have had our differences in the past, but if you behave yourself and cooperate, I promise not to harm you.”

           “What differences?”

           Cortez abruptly stepped on the brake, Uncle Maximus letting out a startled yelp as he jerked forward into the dashboard.

           “I wasn’t even belted in yet, Cortez!  Can you not even drive through a parking lot without some display of incompetence – “   He went on in that vein, but Cortez was not listening, only looking back at Luna, bright yellow surprise flaring up, then smoldering down into a dull, dark red anger.

           “Do you really not remember?  I once kidnapped you to teach your dreadful father a lesson!  How can you forget someone like me?!”

           “Maybe I was a baby?  People don’t remember things from when they were babies,” Luna suggested, trying to be helpful, and maybe calm his anger a bit.  

           “You were old enough!  You were – no, never mind.  I am the great Fabian Cortez, Spanish royalty, leader of the Acolytes, true successor to the legacy of Magneto, the very pinnacle of the race of homo-superior.”

           “That means mutant,” Maximus supplied.  “Now will you drive the van, or must I lower myself to the task, Cortez?”

           “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cortez,” Luna said. “Don’t feel bad if I don’t remember. I get kidnapped a lot.  It’s hard to remember every time.”

           “Fine.  Fine. I forgive you forgetting.  You are only a child, and children can be forgiven these things,” Cortez conceded, anger visibly cooling.  “But more importantly, Maximus, how will we get her past the guard?  I assume you’ll….”  Cortez glanced at Luna, then back at Maximus, and tapped his forehead in a way that meant to be secret.  Obviously he wanted Uncle Max to use his mind control powers.  Luna wondered if they’d keep using charades around her if she pretended not to understand.

           “Why don’t we do this the easy way?” Maximus said, turning to Luna.  “Luna, we’re going to play a fun hide-and-seek game where you lay under this tarp.”  

           “That doesn’t look very clean.  I don’t think I want to play that game.”  And Uncle Max couldn’t force her.  He couldn’t use his powers on her, that was the one advantage she could play.  That, and the cell-phone in her dress pocket that neither man had noticed yet, but she’d have to pull it out when they weren’t watching her.

           “Oh, but you must!  It’s one of the many delightful games we’ll be playing today,” Maximus insisted.

           “Can we also go to store and buy me some new clothing?  Like you said?  I’ll play the game if we can go to the mall.”  Luna knew they could overpower her if they really wanted to.  But Maximus probably didn’t want to do something like that, and he probably didn’t want to deal with her crying or screaming. Buying her presents would be the path of least resistance.  And it seemed only fair, since they were kidnapping her and everything.

           “That’s really not-“ Cortez started, but was cut off by Maximus.

           “Yes, of course, princess!  Just like I said!  I promise!”  The colors seemed to indicate sincerity, although Uncle Max could change his mind on a dime.  But then, resisting might mean that they hurt the poor security guard, and Luna didn’t want that.

           “Okay, it’s a deal.  You promised!” Luna lay flat against the seat and pulled the tarp over herself.  If she played her cards right, maybe she could get her uncle to buy her a new DS.  

[ikonislife]

SpellBound

-Hanbin x Female reader

-Hanbin’s birthday project (: 

-Hogwarts au, friends to lovers, school life au.

-Spellbound masterlist

 -A/n: Please, please read this with an open mind. I’ve never done anything like this before so I know it’s lacking. I know there are thousands of better Hogwarts au out there but I haven’t found too many for iKON so I thought what better time than to create something fun for Hanbin’s birthday. I tried to include other members in the stories because why not, I love them all (:

Chapter 5: First?

Your giggle echoed still even when your feet reached the entrance to the castle, thrilled just thinking of the expression Lisa would’ve worn, hell, the entire Slytherin team would’ve worn if they had caught you smooching the Gryffindor captain just a week before their big game.  Hanbin too, wore a smile on his lips although it was nowhere near the infectious laughter caressing his heart with warmth. “Are you always this giggly?” Hanbin mused gently, guiding you into one of the hidden corners of the corridor. “Sort of. Back when we weren’t so close, Lisa used to think I’m on some weird herb all the time. That’s why my herbology mark is always so uhm, high.” You quipped, still so intoxicated with the delicate delight of hearts beating as one. You couldn’t, not that you even care to, stop smiling, not with the way Hanbin’s touch felt so warm against your skin, so familiar. “Is there any class you’re not acing?” Hanbin questioned and if he was really honest, half of it was out of admiration and half out of disbelief. How in the world had you managed to ace every goddamn class he was terrible at? “My girl is so freaking smart!” “Have we already forgotten about my little flying conundrum already?”  You raised an eyebrow at the boy that was staring at you as if you were Albert Einstein, completely uncertain of what had just stirred up the butterfly farm in your stomach. Maybe it was the residual of the question Hanbin had just asked as you both soared amongst the cloud, surely part of it was because of what nearly happened by the field, and now, perhaps it was too due to the fact that he had just so lovingly called you his girl. “My unlimited flying service captain is so forgetful!” “Wow, I’m speechless. Is that all I am to you? Just a flying service? Air Kim? Magical Uber?” Hanbin sighed a laugh, dispelling hurriedly the breath he had been holding nervously in his chest as he waited, perhaps hoping for you to return the favor. He feigned a sniffle, hand clutching dramatically at his heart and a big frown bloomed on those supple lips. “I’ll consider changing your name once we go on that fancy date you promised.” Not one to let go of a good opportunity, you grabbed his face with a teasing smirk on your lips, though that smirk soon turned smitten at the adorable pursed lips and squeezed cheeks. He looked very much like a baby chipmunk and your heart could barely contained a squeal from reaching your lips. “But if you keep being this cute, I might change my mind.” “Well I hope so because I just remember something…” A heavy sigh tumbled from his lips, an unexpected sadness reached his sharp finger and burst the bubble of happiness surrounding the both of you in a flash. The light in his eyes were still so warm yet there was disappointment in the way his index tracing along the edge of your nose and lines of your lips. “Oh… The games.” You finished the sentence Hanbin was much too entranced to do, sadness too now lingering in the way your chest softly dispelling the giant sigh it had been holding back. “We don’t have to go do anything big, I’m okay with just dinner in Great hall again, maybe just us this time?” You suggested and Hanbin felt a wave of relief washing over himself. “Let’s go to that tea shop you like, Madam Pudding? Puddingfoot?” Hanbin genuinely couldn’t for the life of him recall the name. So many times, he had passed by it, a bit of disgust would sour in his chest just looking at the frilly decoration and such silly incantation of cherubs shooting out confetti hearts. Who would seriously enjoy that kind of place because he certainly wouldn’t, much prefer his tea without confetti floating in it and being surround by so much pink. Yet deep down, as he watched couples laughing away, hushed conversations over the small tables adorned with pink tablecloth and hectic mishmash of flowers and small trinkets, a comforting warmth bloomed in his heart. The thought of having someone to laugh with, to share a tea with (even if it was in an annoyingly pink shop that smell too much like soap to be a tea shop), how delightful would that be. So perhaps there was always a little bit of himself that wouldn’t oppose to the idea of spending time there if his girlfriend really, like really really want him to spend the date there. “Madam Puddifoot! Yes, I love that place.” You corrected him, huffing out a bit of a laugh at the completely lost boy. “How many times have you been to Hogsmeade now, still can’t remember the name of the ridiculously pink building?” “Well, I’ve never been in it nor have a reason to. Why would I bother remembering what it’s called?” Hanbin retorted with a humph to his voice and a boop to your nose, one hand on his hip matter of fact-ly. “Never? Not even with your past girlfriends?” You bit out “past girlfriends” perhaps a bit too harshly considering you didn’t know him then and so there would be no reason why there’d be any kind of jealousy. Completely irrational too considering that his hands were quite literally tugging you closer in a tighter hug. “Never had one.” He replied so casually, eyes so trained on your features that honestly it confused you a bit. “Never had a tea?” “No, never had a girlfriend.” Hanbin felt your body went stiff in his hold as he breathed so effortlessly that tidbit of information, realizing now that perhaps you found that confession bit shocking? Though he couldn’t see how it would be shocking. “Oh…” You sighed gently, then suddenly exclaimed with a smirk on your lips. “OH!” “Is that strange? That I’ve never had a girlfriend?” He pinched your cheek, and pressed a quick kiss on your forehead, elated when your cheeks glowed toxic red and that bashful glint returned to your eyes. “No, well, a little bit. I always thought you’d be popular with, you know, girls.” You answered shyly, skin burned in embarrassment and delight. “So that means I’m…” “Oh, you know, nothing special, just my first ever girlfriend.” He teased, bravely placed the most delicately brief kiss in the history of all kisses on your lips before feeling his heart gave out in pure bliss, all the courage he had stored up for ages for this exact moment spent in a second… Very well spent if he had to say so himself. His brain in a scramble when that shy little giggle emanated from the spot on his chest that you had timidly planted your face onto, hiding the blushing cheeks. “Yaaaa, who said I was your girlfriend.” You whined and honestly, he couldn’t even care that you had just denied being his girlfriend, that you were beating his chest to oblivion. Everything was going just the way he hoped it would, perhaps even way more adorable than he had anticipated. “Oh, should I go ask someone else on that date then? Since you don’t want to be my girlfriend, I’ll just ask someone else. Apparently, I’m really popular with, you know, girls.” Hanbin swore he saw his short live flashing before his eyes the moment he finished that sentence. No sooner than the last syllable had left his lips, you had tear yourself away from his body with poison dripping from those menacingly beautiful dagger eyes. And even though it was for only a second, for the first time since he had met you, Hanbin saw the Slytherin in you. No sooner than your eyes had met his, however, it drooped into what he could only liken to sad puppy dog eyes with a pout on your lips. “I’m joking! I’m only joking. You know that right, baby?” He tested the water, hoping the pet name would sooth your heart but that seemed to have only fueled the fire in your heart because you tore away, stomping like a storm tearing up the quietness of the empty hallway. You got your arms crossed in front of your chest, silently vanishing from his sight and never before had hanbin panicked so. His body frozen, brain could barely comprehend what had just happened and how incredibly stupid he was to joke about something so sensitive. A relationship barely budding yet he himself had burned it to the ground, never stood a chance to bloom into the beautiful flower it deserved to be. “Y/n, I’m only joking. I’m sorry, please don’t walk away.” He chased after you, fearful, so fearful of pulling you back yet how else would he be able to stop his heart from obliterating. By the time your foot had reached the grand marble step leading to the library, Hanbin could bear no longer the sight of your slumped shoulders and sulking heart. He got both hands on your hips, whispering so desperately your name, praying that you’d turn around. “Got you!” You jested, staying still in the back hug Hanbin had just pulled you into as a last attempt at stopping you from leaving him forever. “What?” Stammering in confusion, Hanbin felt himself melting away in bliss as you turned around, winding your arms around his torso with a kiss placed on his stilled lips. “I said got you!” You peered up, with a cheerful smile plastered across your cherry red lips yet that smile was soon wiped away at the solemn steeling through his handsome features. You’ve gone too far, and as regret filled your chest with how crossed Hanbin had look, your arms slowly loosen the hold they got around the tone body of the captain. “I’m, I’m sorry.” You whispered dismally, it was your turn to feel panic creeping its fingers along your skin, sending shiver down your spine. You backed away one step, then two, and by the time you had taken your third without Hanbin pulling back into his arms, your heart gave out a silent sob. “I-I, I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have… I’m sorry.” You had nearly run off when his large hands tugged at your shoulders, engulfing your entire body inside his. “I got you back!” Index prodding at your side, Hanbin placed a sweet chaste kiss on your lips, mirroring what you had just done to him seconds ago with the brightest laugh you’ve ever heard in your life. “HANBIN!!! You scared me!” You cried out, a few tears pricking, threatening to spill any second now. “Me? Scared you?? You literally ran away from me!” He teased yet when your fingers went up to wiped away the tears nearly falling, he pouted gently. “Aw, baby, don’t cry. I’m joking. I’m just messing with you.” “That’s what you get for saying you’ll go date someone else.” You slapped his chest teasingly, pretending to walk away just to coax out a reaction from the laughing till near tear boy. “And for ambushing me with that kiss. I wasn’t ready.” “Okay, okay, no more. I’m sorry.” Contently sighing, a bashful grin bloomed his lips when you placed a kiss on his dimple, falling right back onto his chest, right where you belonged. For a second, it was just you and him in the silent of the universe. He felt as if you both were flying amongst stars, and all the stares, all the whispers of the passing by students fell on deaf ears as neither of you could care for what they had to say. You sighed peacefully, needy hand gripping at the back of his shirt, holding so tightly that Hanbin wished for every moment in the future when life will be rough, you’ll hold him just like this. Yet with any dream, reality reared its ugly head to remind you both that the world didn’t stop revolving just because your hearts had transcended time and space in each other’s company. “Ugh, that’s my cue to go.” You groaned sadly at the blaring alarm reminding you of the study session awaiting. “Young minds awaiting me.” “Can young minds wait till tomorrow?” Disappointment laced itself in each word he huffed out with fake annoyance, pouty and whiny just as Lisa described (Apparently he get particularly whiny when the practice schedule isn’t to his liking. After a while, they all just make up fake schedule to tease the poor boy into his pouty whiney fits) “Uhm, is that why you have negative points in calculus? Cause it can wait till tomorrow?” “Who told you that?!” He panicked, only fueling your laughter further. “I mean, I don’t know what you’re talking about!” “Uh huh. We have to schedule a study session too unless you’re planning on stepping down as captain and spend the rest of your life following me around like a lost puppy.” “That actually doesn’t sound so bad…” “I actually regret meeting you.” You replied grimly, footsteps already hasten toward the library before the giddy boy caught your hand in his, swinging wildly, hopping up the staircase. As you both laughed your way toward the grand library where the first years patiently await their tutor, there was a strange feeling in your gut that you were being watch and by the way Hanbin so warily staring about, he felt the same. “Is everyone staring at me?” You finally spoke up after a few girls blatantly whispered loudly your name as you passed, eyes lingering on the firm hold Hanbin got over your hand. “Don’t mind them, probably feel weird I’m not surrounded by a group of idiots for once.” Embolden by the audience, Hanbin placed a kiss on your lips right before the grand doors of the library. Loud gasps echoing from every which direction, embarrassment setting your heart ablaze. “You sure they can’t wait?” “Yes, they have an exam soon. I need to go over the lesson and give them timeto absorb it.” You replied sadly with a pat to his cheek. “You know if I could…” “I know…” He let his words lingered, drawn out as he stared above you at some invisible being before a light bulb flashed off in his mind. “Can I sit in? While you teach them, and if we finish early enough… Tea time?!” He knew it was an offer you couldn’t refuse and before you could even nod yes, he had tugged you along, away from the crowd still stunned from the sudden PDA of the usually private Gryffindor captain. As your footfall grew louder, the group of first years ceased their chatter and began tugging books after books out of their bag, studious as always and ready to learn. Yet at the sight of the handsome Gryffindor captain tottering behind you like a lost baby chick, their eyes widen tenfold, the few Gryffindor kids got their jaws on the floor. They stared in awe at the boy then back at you, probably deciding that you were 10 times cooler for dragging the ever so busy captain to their private study session. Hanbin cheerily waved at them when you elbowed him slyly, tearing his attention away from, well from you. Hi-5 made its way around the table and each one excitedly return the favor, one of your little Slytherin first years even grabbed his hand and shook it with vigor (you’ll be sure to rub it in Lisa’s face later). “Hi guys, I’m sure you know who this is. He’ll be sitting in our lesson today, try not to be so distracted okay?”  You sighed softly, even you were distracted let alone the star struck kids. “Okay!” They cheered out happily. The lesson went on much smoother than you had anticipated with Hanbin mostly staying in his own corner, staring at you with that daze look in his eyes. The kids too, seemed to be handling the “celebrity” just a few feet beside them just fine, staying very focus perhaps to impress the older boy save for every now and then letting their eyes wandered over to the boy who was dreamily staring off into space. “Wow, you guys got through your homework super fast today! Any questions?” You asked routinely, mildly impressed with the speech at which they blasted through their homework. Perhaps you should bring Hanbin around more often. “Can I ask him question?” After a few seconds of prodding each other and mild shoving, one Hufflepuff boy shyly raised his hand, waving at a very confused Hanbin mouthing “me?” while pointing at himself. “Uh, if he doesn’t mind?” You questioned, befuddled at the sudden request, glancing over at Hanbin for confirmation. “I don’t mind, ask away.” Delighted to finally be the center of attention, he took over your seat, hosting his own little Q & A. You scooted aside and watched on in amusement. “Are you dating Ms. Y/L/N?” They giggled the question, to which Hanbin returned with his own very childlike grin. “Do you like like her a lot?” “Oh my days, kids keep you-“ Yet before you could protest, Hanbin already shushing your words away, returning his attention back to the young minds awaiting patiently. “Well, if you must know, she is in fact my girlfriend.” He whispered to the very focus kids, where was this intensity of readiness when you were teaching them useful things like how to identify which herb is poisonous? At the confirmation, they oohs and ahhs before raising their hands as if they were in class… Well, maybe not so much like they were in class because you know for a fact they don’t raise their hand in class. “Are you going to take her on a date?” A Gryffindor girl asked after he had pointed at her. “We are, right after this, to the tea shop!” His reply was met with a loud gasp of admiration and cooing over how amazing that sounded. “Are you going to kiss her?” Before Hanbin could answer, you had jumped over with your hand over his mouth, honestly shocked at the brazen question that got them all riled up and giddy. “Okay, let’s keep the question to quidditch related things.” You bit out with a stern smile as Hanbin pawed at your hand over his lips, the kids groaned loudly in disappointment. “That’s no fun, Y/n.” They cried loudly and Hanbin mirrored the sentiment having pried your hand off. “Yea, that’s no fun!” “Do you want to go on that date or not?” You whispered softly into his ear, watching as the curious kids practically crawled onto the table to listen in. “Okay, question time over. We gotta go. I’ll see you next time! Say hi if you see me walking around. Don’t forget to go support your own house team at the game!” Hanbin rapped out hastily, one hand tugging you toward the exit, the other waving furiously at the kids whom were doing the same. He dragged you through the empty aisles of the library, fire under his feet through the hallway of the castle too. It wasn’t until the cold fresh air of a late autumn afternoon had hit your skin that your heavy breath reached the ears of a very oblivious boy. “Hanbin… I can’t run as fast as you!” You hunched over, free hand resting on your knee while the other was still in his grip. You panted heavily, feeling your lunch teetering on the edge of your throat. “I’m so sorry. Shit, I forgot you’re not Jiwon.” He tugged you up to his chest, hugging away the exhaustion of running through 3 hallways and a set of stair, a very long set of stair, whispering still soft apology. “It’s okay… I just… Oh God… I’m not particularly fond of running.” You huffed out your sentence in fragment, feeling sharp prodding against your side. “I keep forgetting. Jiwon and I, we just chase each other down the hall, you know. I guess I’m not used to having… have…having a-a girlfriend with me.” Hanbin stammered dumbly, the glowing warmth of achieving that stupid dream he had for so long finally within grasp and he wasn’t sure his heart possessed the strength to go through it. A dreamy smile on his lips as he gazed upon your face, bit flushed from the cold air and bit tired from running. Hanbin was entirely sure that there would be nothing, nothing in this world that could make him feel better than having you in his arms, having you smile back whenever he calls for you, and the shy little giggle whenever he kisses you. “I have a girlfriend, and it’s you…” He sighed so delicately that you weren’t sure it was meant for your ears. Either way, you were over the moon to hear it, your heart’s desire finally coming true, after years of watching from afar wishing you could be his friend. “Well you better get used to it. I don’t think I’m gonna let you go for a long while.” “What do you mean a long while, try never ever.” He quipped cheekily, pinching your cheek once more before you both continued down the dreamy path toward the tea shop, hand in hand, laughing away at the stares of shocked passerby. Everything was the way it should be. 

-Spellbound masterlist

[rosegold-thorns]

memory lane // l.r.h

I’ve never done this before but consider me inspired 

Word Count: 1,669 words

Warnings: Lots of fluff

+++

You looked around your shared apartment, smiling in content at the cozy, now clean, environment.

It had taken all morning of heavy cleaning to restore some order, because let’s face it, living with your rockstar boyfriend got messy. Really messy.

Your eyes drifted to the only part of the room you hadn’t touched: a relatively useless closet that held miscellaneous items.

You looked at it, half having the intention to not open it and feel proud of the rest of the clean apartment, but the other half of you was too curious for own good and wondered what could be in there.

Making your way over, you pondered what you and your boyfriend of three years, Luke Hemmings, could’ve thrown in there.

Opening it and shuffling through the top collection of junk, your hand rested on a small box that was hidden under one of Luke’s old shirts.

After a moment of pondering you changed into his You Complete Me(ss) muscle shirt, letting it hang off your loose frame as you realized the “box” you touched wasn’t a box at all, but a disposable camera.

You looked in amazement at the small relic, not remembering exactly when it was from. Had it been a year ago, or two?

After careful inspection you see the film still hadn’t been developed, trapped inside the small yellow camera.

With a large smile on your face you hurriedly slipped on some adidas slides and ran out the door, grabbing your car keys and you wallet, and excitedly drove to the nearest CVS to develop the film.

***

As you ran into your apartment and absentmindedly slammed the door closed, you ran to your shared bedroom and jumped on it as it creaked slightly.

You tore open the small envelope holding the developed pictures and watched them spill out over the comforter.

You sat cross-cross applesauce and went through the pictures one-by-one.

After looking through about three blurry shots, you came across one clear picture of yourself, laughing and reaching out to the person behind the camera, and a little red faced.

You smiled down at the picture, acknowledging that it was Luke behind the camera, until it finally dawned on you where these pictures were taken.

“Baby,” you heard someone whisper beside your head.

“Mm” you mumbled softly.

“Baaaaby,” you heard again.

“Mmm” you mumbled louder.

“Babe!” You heard loud and clear, and if that wasn’t enough, the bed started to shake as you felt it move up and down with the weight of someone.You groggily opened your eyes, and turned on your side to find your boyfriend jumping up and down with a childish smile on his face.

A smile creeped its way to your face. “Good morning.”

His smile stretched even wider, if that was possible, pulling slightly at his lip ring he had kept at the time.

“Good morning,” he replied in a sing song voice.You eyed his jumping figure.

“You’re gonna hit your head on the ceiling babe, you’re too tall for this shit.”

“Nah, I’m not gonna b-“

Thump.

He plopped down dejectedly while you laughed.

“I told you so,” you said with a cheeky smile and a kiss on the cheek.

He sighed dramatically. “I know, I know, you’re always right.”

He eyed you with his striking blue eyes, and took one of your small hands into both of his large ones.

“Happy one year anniversary.” He said, and placed a light feathery kiss to the back of your knuckles.

Your heart welled with happiness, and you attacked him with a large hug that caused him to teeter a bit. You placed a large kiss on his lips and rested your forehead on his.

“Happy one year anniversary.” 

His smile was so big and happy that it was infectious, and you sported a matching one, giggling slightly as you realized your position: your thighs straddling his sitting figure, Nike Pros riding up slightly.

You both blushed as if you were 15, and you pecked him once more.

“What are we doing today?” You asked. “Lazy day?”

He bit his lip. “I actually have something planned.” He seemed nervous as he said it, but all it did was excite you.

“Really?!” You squealed. “What is it?”

He smiled. “Nope, its a surprise.”

You pouted, making that face he couldn’t resist. “Please?”

He looked away quickly. “No, I’m not falling for this again. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

And with a wink he flipped you over, peppered your face in kisses as you giggled, managing out a happy whine of “Luke!” as he laughed along, the same laughter that was high pitched and you just felt the happiness radiate.

***

“Luke the blindfold is kinda kinky, don’t you think?”

He let out a loud laugh. “It’s supposed to be a surprise, I don’t want you to see it yet.”

You felt the car he was driving slow to a stop and heard the keys pull out.Then you heard his car door open and close, and after a moment yours opened too.

“M’lady,” Luke said, and guided your hand into his and he led you out of the car.

“Luke,” you whined. “I wanna see.”

He said nothing but kept walking, keeping one hand on the small of your back.

“You can take it off in about... three... two... one.”

You felt his warm hands at the back of your head, untying the small knot of his bandana that he had wrapped around your eyes, much to your protest.

You opened your eyes, adjusting to the light that contrasted with the dark of the bandana.

A small gasp escaped your lips, taking in your surroundings.

A picnic blanket was set under a large tree, holding a small picnic, Luke’s guitar, and resting below the blanket was a huge arrangement of the pink petals that had fallen from the tree, spelling out a giant pink “I LOVE YOU.”

For once, you were speechless. You turned to Luke, your mouth agape.

You opened and closed it, but no sound came out.

Luke’s nervous eyes searched your own, looking for some sort of vocal reaction.

“Well?” He asked, rolling his lip between his teeth.

Instead of words, you pulled him in for the biggest hug, your arms wrapping around his broad torso, and his body felt like a shield, taking you in a warm embrace, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

“I love you,” you throatily whispered, willing yourself not to cry.

“I love you too,” he replied, response muffled by your mess of hair in your neck.

You pulled away and laughed shakily, willing no tears to fall from your eyes.

You looked around at the picnic and looked at Luke expectantly. “You made all of this?”

He smiled sheepishly. “I may have had a little help?”

You raised your eyebrow.

He giggled. “Your mom is the best, you know.”

You laughed out loud and lightly hit him on the arm. “My mom knew and she didn’t tell me!”

He shrugged. “It was better as a surprise, wasn’t it?”

You smiled and kissed him softly. “It’s perfect.”

***

The rest of the day had been spent at your spot under the tree, eating and singing along to Luke’s guitar.

You lazily tied your hair up in a bun resting high on your head, small strands of hair falling around and framing your face.You heard a distant “click”, and you turned your head to the side, watching as Luke snapped another photo of you.

You laughed and reached out for the camera.“Luke! Stop, I just put my hair up don’t take pictures now!”

Click.

He smiled cheekily behind the small disposable camera.“Not a chance, you look absolutely gorgeous.”

You blushed and snatched the camera, taking a picture of him as he protested.

You scooted next to him, holding your hand with the camera out in a selfie motion, snapping a picture of your two smiling faces, and another of your slightly shocked expression as he surprised you with a kiss on the cheek, and one last one of you kissing Luke full on, capturing his embarrassed blush as you smiled into the kiss.

You smiled at the collection of pictures in front of you, remembering that day like it was yesterday, but you couldn’t believe you’d left that camera in the closet for two years. You were both practically babies in those pictures, Luke’s hair was still in a falling quiff, and he adorned the lip ring. Your hair was so long and the tips had been dyed as well.

Now you were both so mature, but you couldn’t help love the pictures so much more now.

“Honey, I’m home!” You heard your boyfriend jokingly yell from the front door.

“In here!” You yelled back.

His heavy footsteps could be heard coming down the hall and you saw him peek his head in the doorframe of your shared bedroom.

As he leaned in, his long curls fell over and he made his over, giving you a knowing smile as he caught you eyeing the exposed area of chest that was on display from his open satin dress shirt.

“Hey baby,” his deep Australian voice said lowly, pecking you on the lips and sitting down on the edge of the bed.

Your twinkled back at him. “Look what I found.”

His eyes fell on the bed, widening at the photos once he realized what they were.

He straightened up. “No way! Where did you find these?” He said absentmindedly as he shuffled through the pictures.

“We had thrown the disposable camera in the closet, with all of our other stuff, and I got them developed today. Can you believe how long ago this was?”

He smiled at the pictures. “This was forever ago.”

He looked up at you, running a ringed finger down your cheek as he looked in your eyes.

“And here’s to another forever,” and sealed the promise with a kiss. 

+++

[green-eyeddragonfanfiction]

Bah, HumBuck! Plans C and D

Summary: You’re the newest Avenger. Realizing that Bucky plans to spend Christmas alone, you enlist the help of Wanda, your best friend, and Steve, Bucky’s best friend and your mentor. You’re determined to make his Christmas amazing. Plan A Plan B Time for plans C and D! Pairing: Bucky x Female!Powered!Reader Word Count: ~2,618 Warnings: language, fluff A/N: This is for Sam’s Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree Writing Challenge. My prompt was #16, “’This was a terrible plan.’ ‘This was your plan.’” @lovelynemesis Flame on? Flame on. Was giving Reader the same powers of human torch intentional? Yes. Did I do it because Chris Evans was the human torch? No, but I still love that coincidence. *gifs not mine*

Masterlist // Plan B // Plan E

Fifteen minutes later you were walking out of the med ward, the gash just a faint pink scar on your palm.

“Damn, Doctor Cho really is amazing,” you said as you held your hand in front of your face and studied it closely. Your brain was working in overdrive while you walked; Plan A and B failed, so plan C was next.

Steve let out a long sigh. “You’re just lucky it was a pretty easy fix and that she’s already calibrated her tech for your DNA,” he said, running a hand over his face. “You also need to thank Vision; he’s the only one of us who knew how to work Cho’s machine.”

“Thanks, Viz!” you said, holding your newly-healed hand up for a high five. He looked from your face to your hand in confusion for a moment before he seemed to remember what he was supposed to do. He returned your high five perfectly with a loud smack... and it hurt. You smiled, but as soon as he’d turned away you shook your hand out, wincing at how badly it stung.

Steve let out a sigh. “Now, I think that’s enough excit-”

“We should go sledding!” you said, cutting across Steve with a smile he easily recognized as the “I’m going to do it anyway so you may as well join me” look. He groaned and rubbed his temples.

“Fine,” he said tiredly.

“Do we even have sleds?” Wanda asked, eyebrows raised in question.

“There are sleds purchased specially by Mr. Stark for these occasions,” FRIDAY informed you.

“Awesome! FRIDAY, make sure those make it to the entrance of the building in the next fifteen minutes, please!” you said as you turned to the others. “West Entrance to the compound. Twenty minutes! Bundle up!” you ordered cheerfully as you ran down the hallway. You had a couple things to do and not a whole lot of time to do them.

Nineteen and a half minutes later you were at the base’s West Entrance, bundled up in layers of jackets and panting from running around nonstop. You’d even found your old pair of ski pants, which was nice. Wet pants ruined snowy day fun faster than you could say “hypothermia.” Sure, you could dry them off with your powers, but it was just so much work (and came with risk of setting your pants on fire). You shuffled your backpack around on your back until it was sitting more comfortably and glanced around the foyer for everyone else.

Bucky was sitting quietly on one of the uncomfortable-looking blocky black couches, gazing out the floor-to-ceiling window. Snow was still falling outside, blanketing the entire compound with a layer of cold white fluff.

You were about to go up and talk to him when the elevator dinged open, revealing Wanda, Vision, and Steve.

“I still do not understand why sledding is so appealing when one can fly, but I will make an attempt,” Vision was saying, drawing both your and Bucky’s attention towards him.

“That’s all I’m asking, Viz,” Wanda said kindly, taking his hand in hers as she smiled up at him.

“Are we all ready to go?” you asked all of them, barely contained excitement showing on your face.

“What’s in the backpack?” Steve asked suspiciously, giving it and you the stink eye.

“A surprise! Now, are you ready to go?” you said evasively.

“As we’ll ever be,” Steve said grimly, glancing at the frigid paradise outside.

“Awesome! The sleds are outside; one for each of us!” you informed them, practically skipping for the door. You may have missed the way Bucky was smiling at you, but Steve and Wanda didn’t. They gave each other knowing looks that you, Vision, and Bucky all missed.

You wrenched the door open and the wave of cold air hit you. It wasn’t as though it bothered you much; you didn’t really think you could get cold.

Wanda and Steve were a little more apprehensive. You couldn’t blame Steve; he’d spent 70 years as a popsicle after all. Vision didn’t mind the cold, though, and easily coaxed Wanda outside, Steve following shortly thereafter.

What surprised you, though, was that Bucky seemed hesitant. The Winter Soldier? Afraid of a little snow? Nah. Impossible.

“C’mon, Buck! We’re burning...” you glanced up at the sky and frowned “-cloud light,” you finished lamely.

He snorted at that, small smile on his lips, and your heart soared. He didn’t smile very often so you enjoyed it every time you saw it. He picked up one of the sleds beside the door and fell into step beside you.

The group made their way towards the east side of the compound. There were a few steep hills there. Wanda, Steve, and Vision were chatting animatedly ahead of you and Bucky about something you couldn’t quite hear. After a few minutes of walking in silence with Bucky, he spoke up. “What is in the bag?” he asked curiously, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Hey! I said it was a surprise! You’ll find out eventually!” you said, paranoid, turning your torso so that the backpack was hidden behind you.

He laughed at that. Actually laughed. As in eye-crinkling, teeth-showing, chest-rumbling laugh.

Your heart tried to kill you when you heard it, it was beating so fast. He had a wonderful laugh. You were used to feeling warm, but the way his laugh made you feel-

Light? Safe? Happy? Maybe... that he might actually enjoy your company?

“Alright, alright. I won’t pry. Promise,” he said, smile still etched into his face.

You tried to memorize it but apparently were being too obvious, because it slid from his face once he realized you were staring.

“Is... is there something on my face?” he asked, suddenly looking a bit alarmed.

Oh no. He noticed me staring. “No! It’s just- I uh-” Think. Come up with an excuse. Any excuse. “I just like your laugh,” you sputtered. Your eyes widened in horror a half second later at your words, but you couldn’t look away from his gaze.

He looked almost as shocked by your words as you did, his pace faltering for a beat. He looked away from you, gaze forward, and didn’t say anything, his face hidden by his hair.

Great. Really great fucking job, (Y/N). You made him uncomfortable, you chastised yourself mentally.

You hung your head and trudged onward, gaze straight ahead, not noticing the shy, pleased smile and blush on Bucky’s face.

Your fun sledding activity quickly devolved into a competition of who could do the coolest tricks. You’d been upset at first, but after Steve pulled off a particularly impressive triple-back-flip-turned-handstand and challenged you to try and one up him, all bets were off.

“Go (Y/N)!” Wanda cheered from the bottom of the hill. She’d wiped out a while ago and decided to stay put until the snow numbed her butt. Vision was sitting with her, discussing the finer points of sledding.

You placed your sled about ten feet back from the point where the hill began to drop and walked even farther back.

Steve and Bucky watched you with interest.

“Watch and learn, boys,” you said, winking salaciously at them.

Steve suddenly look worried and Bucky turned a deep crimson but you’d already looked away.

You took a running start at your sled, gathering your powers in your hands. The moment your feet hit the sled you threw your arms behind you and turned your powers on full blast, giant jets of flame shooting from your palms. You rocketed forward, still going slow enough at first for gravity to pull you down instead of sending you flying off the edge of the hill.

The jump the boys had built, though, was a completely different story. You flew off it, sled leaving your feet as you used your powers to flip yourself midair once, twice, three times, before you plummeted back to earth, landing skillfully on top of your sled, riding it like a snowboard. You let your momentum carry you for a while before you hopped off of the sled...

And immediately fell face-first into the snow. You hadn’t realized how fast you’d been going and weren’t expecting the force of acceleration to be as strong as it was. Your feet hadn’t been able to keep up with how fast the rest of you was moving... and now you had a face full of snow.

You heard the others laughing merrily at your misfortune and your face literally burned with embarrassment, melting the snow under it.

“You alright?” Steve yelled down from the top of the hill, smile obvious in his voice.

You didn’t get up, simply giving him a depressed thumbs up in response, which sent everyone into a fresh fit of laughter.

Yup. You could just die here. That would be preferable to facing the life of teasing this was sure to earn you.

The telltale sound of a sled approaching followed by the crunch of snow beneath feet finally made you look up.

You immediately buried your face back into the snow, not wanting to face him.

“You can’t lay there forever, Doll,” Bucky said kindly, smile clear in his voice.

“I think I can, actually,” you muttered bitterly.

“What was that?” he asked playfully, though he’d clearly heard you.

“I’m going to die. Right here. In this snow bank. Just leave me. Tell my family I love them. Also, tell Tony he’s an asshole,” you said melodramatically.

He laughed at that last bit. “Sorry, that’s not allowed. If you decide to die a slow death out here it means I’d have to spend more time out here in the snow,” he said stubbornly, but you could still hear the smile in his voice.

“What’s wrong with the snow?” you asked curiously, finally turning your head to peek up at him.

He suddenly looked awkward, as though he’d said something he hadn’t meant to. He fidgeted where he stood and picked up his sled. “C’mon, Doll. We can’t let you end on a note like that,” he said, extending his hand down to you.

“Do you not like the snow?” you asked perceptively without taking his hand. You looked at him properly, scrutinizing every movement closely.

He swallowed hard, looking well and truly guilty now. “It’s, uh, not my favorite, no. It reminds me of Siberia and-”

You were up in a flash, throwing your arms around his waist. He dropped his sled in surprise, looking down at you in shock. “I’m sorry! I had no idea! I would never have forced you out here if I’d known!” you said quickly, trying to figure out how to make up for- “Wait here!” you said, letting him go abruptly to run a few feet away before you focused your powers in your hands and feet and quite literally flew back to the top of the hill, leaving a trail of flame in your wake. You landed heavily, staggering a couple steps before you grabbed your backpack.

Steve was staring at you, alarmed. “(Y/N)? What’s going on? Why did you-”

You snatched Steve’s sled from his hands and threw it on the ground in one fluid motion. “Borrowingthisnoweverything’sfinethanksSteve,” you said in the span of a second and a half before you sat down on top of it and pushed yourself off of the edge, this time letting gravity- and not your powers- take you to the bottom.

You got off as soon as the sled started going too slowly for your liking, running the rest of the way to Bucky, pack bouncing against your back.

To his credit, he’d stayed exactly where you’d told him to, though he was looking at you warily.

“Am I about to find out what’s in that bag?” he asked apprehensively.

You made it the last few steps to him, panting softly from the exertion of flying up to the top of the hill and running through snow.

“Yup!” you said merrily, throwing the pack down in front of you. You kneeled down, unzipped it, and pulled out-

“Thermoses?” Bucky asked, looking absolutely confounded as he sat down next to you.

“Yeah! I made some hot cocoa before we left and put it in these. There’s one for each of us!” you said chipperly, handing him a silver and red thermos that reminded you of his arm. You pulled out the cheesy flames-and-black one that you’d decided was yours and looked at him sheepishly.

“I know it’s a bit silly, but... I wanted to give you a good memory. Of snow,” you said, gesturing to the area around the two of you. “God, it sounds so selfish when I put it like that. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

You were cut off by him opening the thermos. You looked at him, surprised. The smell of hot chocolate hit you immediately, laced with-

“Oh, I forgot to mention! I also spiked it,” you said, winking mischievously.

“You know I can’t get drunk, right?” he asked, smile playing on his lips as he poured some into the cap cup.

You froze in the middle of opening your own thermos, smile sliding right off of your face.

Fuck. There went plans... wait, what plans were you on again? You thought about it for a second and concluded spiked hot cocoa and sledding were plans D and E, but you weren’t one hundred percent sure. No. C and D. They were plans C and D.

“I totally forgot,” you said, feeling like a complete idiot. You laid back in the snow, thermos forgotten next to your backpack, and wallowed in your own failure.

“Mm, tasty,” Bucky said casually, causing you to look up in surprise. “Baileys?” he asked, taking another sip.

You nodded, sitting up slowly. Maybe it wasn’t a total loss, but you still felt like an insensitive ass. First the snow, then forgetting about how he can’t get drunk or even tipsy.

“Good choice,” he said, smiling at you over his cup of cocoa.

“Did you really make cocoa and not give me some?” asked Wanda from behind you.

You turned to her, startled by her sudden appearance, but you smiled and shook your head.

“Of course not,” you said, snorting dismissively as you pulled out the pure red thermos you’d designated as hers. “It’s generously spiked, so take is slow,” you warned as she took it from you.

“You’re the best!” Wanda said happily as she took a seat next to you, opening her flask excitedly.

“Excuse me, I hate to impose, but-”

“Yeah, I made some for you, too, Viz,” you said, grinning widely at him as you pulled out a thermos that was patterned with tiny red, blue, green, and yellow ones and zeros.

“Thank you, (Y/N),” he said as he took it from you as sat down next to Wanda.

That just left-

“So first you steal my sled and then you don’t tell me about the hot chocolate?” Steve asked, pretend anger in his voice.

“Do you want the hot chocolate or not?” you asked playfully, waving the last untouched thermos in front of him tantalizingly. It was, of course, bespangled.

“Yes please,” he said quickly, sitting down on the other side of Bucky. You tossed him his thermos, grinning, and he caught it easily.

You chatted in the snow, sipping hot chocolate for a while. At some point you conjured a fire in the center of the group and, although the boys might not admit it, you knew they all appreciated it.

Two hours later the five of you trudged back into the residential building (well, Vision was floating gracefully, but he was always graceful). You were talking to Bucky as you walked. Your plan hadn’t been a complete failure, but it still wasn’t good enough.

Time for Plan E.

This is fine! I can do this! Plan E!

This series is finished, but if you want to be tagged in my other fics, check out this post! Sorry, but responses to this post asking to be tagged will be ignored, so send me an ask or like one of the taglist posts!

☕ Buy Me a Coffee! ☕

[captaindraketrash]

Setting The World on Fire

Character: Young/Older Sam 

Based off the song “Setting the World on Fire”

Warnings: None

Basically just fluff between the reader and Sam :) P.S. I had no idea this was going to turn out so long, I’m sorry haha. 

1983

“We got drunk on La Cienega Boulevard, Takin’ pictures of people we thought were stars. It’s easy to give into your heart, When you’re drunk on La Cienga Boulevard.”

“We should probably head back. It’s late and we left Nate alone-” 

“(Y/N), he’ll be fine, don’t worry.” Sam grinned, nudging my shoulder. “Sometimes I think you’re the older sibling instead of me.” He laughed. I smiled as we continued to walk down the street, looking at the street signs.

“Where are we even?” I asked, looking around the area. 

“La Cienga! C’mon! Famous people are out here all the time.” Sam grinned, nudging my arm.

“Since when did you become an expert of California boulevards?” I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying to hide my smirk.

“Shut up.” He giggled, shoving me lightly. “C’mon, let’s sit here for a bit.” Sam pulled me down onto the grass, setting his backpack beside him.

“We should really be getting ba- Where the hell did you get those?!” Sam held a bottle in front of me, I recognized the label from around Sam’s motel rooms, it was his favourite beer.

“Eh, I got connections.” He shrugged, popping open the top and handing it to me once again.

“Samuel Morgan.” I shook my head, grabbing the drink. “You are trouble.” I took a swig out of the bottle, it was bitter sweet but it felt smooth going down my throat

“You love it.” I didn’t even need to look at him to know he was wearing that cheesy grin of his. The one that made his eyes squint adorably and made his freckles pop out. God I loved his freckles. They complimented his beautiful brown eyes and lined his cheekbones perfectly. 

“Hey!” Sam’s sudden outburst pulled me out of my thoughts and back into reality.

“What?” I tried to follow his direction of sight but didn’t understand what he was looking at. He said nothing, he simply pulled out his camera in a rush and snapped a picture, waiting for the picture to develop. 

“Look!” He eagerly handed me the polaroid photo, pointing to the blurry figure in the distance. “That’s Kevin Bacon!” 

“What?” I immediately burst into laughter, causing Sam to fall into laughter with me. “Maybe if I drink the rest of this.” I tilted the bottle toward my mouth, downing the rest of it. “And tilt my head this way.” I titled my head to the left, almost setting it on Sam’s shoulder. “Then it looks like Kevin Bacon.”

“Pssh, that’s totally Kevin Bacon.” Sam scoffed, opening his second beer. I rested my head completely on his shoulder. We stayed like this for a moment, sitting in silence and sipping on drinks, until Sam moved his arm around me, tugging me closer into him.

“Is this okay?” Sam whispered, I nodded, nonchalantly tracing circles on his leg.

“When the song comin’ out of the speakers, was the band that you had on your t-shirt. We were screamin’ cause all the streets were empty, and you kissed me.”

A car in the parking lot behind us suddenly started up, music immediately blared out of the speakers.

“Hey it’s your favourite band.” Sam nudged me, tugging at my shirt.

“Y’know I stole this shirt, I’ve actually never listened to them.” I admitted, laughing when Sam’s expression turned into hurt.

“And here I thought you were the perfect girl.” He teased, I pressed my face into his chest trying to hide the pink tint that crept onto my face. 

“Someone should really turn that music down, wouldn’t they get a noise complaint?” I said, my voice slightly muffled from Sam’s shirt.

“Nah, the streets are dead, you could scream and no one would probably hear you.” Sam looked around, not a soul was in sight.

“Are you willing to test that theory?” I raised an eyebrow, silently daring him to do it, he simply smirked.

“Ah!” He yelled, his voice being swallowed by the night. ‘Your turn.”

“Oh my god.” I muttered, “Sam I’m going to kill you.” I shouted, finishing my sentence. He laughed, pulling me with him to our feet. 

“I love you!.....(Y/N)” His voice died down to a whisper towards the end of his sentence as he turned towards me.

“Sam-” I couldn’t say a word, his lips were instantly on mine. The kiss started out a little rough but turned passionate quickly. His lips were soft and glided smoothly with mine.

“What were you gonna say?” He pulled away, his eyes still staring down at my lips before looking into mine.

“I love you too, Samuel Drake.” I smiled, pulling his lips back to mine.

2017

“Wrote I love you in liptsick on the mirror. We were shoutin’ out the window, like they could hear us at the pier. Said do you think we’ll live forever, as we killed another beer.”

The sunlight peaked through the curtains, casting shadows of parallel lines onto Sam’s back. I slowly opened my eyes, blinking the sleep out of them and trying to focus on Sam’s sleeping features. I’d almost forgotten the way his eyebrows scrunch together when he sleeps, and the way his face seemed so relaxed and calm with the world.

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you that staring is rude?” Sam’s voice was deep and rough, but a hint of a smile played at his lips.

“I was too busy running around trying to save yours and Nate’s asses to learn my manners.” I argued, smiling. Sam laughed, wrapping his arms around my torso and pulling me closer to him. We stayed silent as he held me to him, his breathing and heartbeat slowly lulling me back to sleep.

“I missed you.” Sam breathed out, placing a kiss to the crown of my head.

“You’ve said that a billion times since you got back.” I looked up at him. He smiled and shifted me out of his arms, getting out of bed.

“I know. I mean it though.” He kissed my forehead before walking towards the bathroom.

“Then maybe you should’ve stayed home instead of chasing after pirate treasure!” I shouted from the bed, getting up to gaze out the window. I heard Sam sigh and then chuckle before the shower turned on. I watched the people on the pier, they walked back and forth eating various ice creams and themselves watching the waves crash against the shore. 

I changed clothes before entering the bathroom, getting ready for the day. Steam rolled out of the shower along with the sound of humming coming from Sam. 

“Do you remember that song?” Sam’s voice startled me slightly, causing me to almost stab myself with my mascara wand.

“What song?” I replied, wiping the streak of mascara off my cheek.

“The one I was humming. It was playing the first night you told me you loved me.” Sam explained, causing my memory to jump start back to those crazy days. 

“Y’know, I still never listened to that band.” I laughed, causing Sam to laugh as well. I picked up my red lipstick, instead of my lips I took it to the mirror, writing ‘I Love You’ in giant red cursive letters. 

“Nice graffiti, troublemaker.” Sam smirked, drying himself off and then pulling on boxers. 

“Hey, you’re the trouble maker remember?” I poked his cheek, exiting the bathroom with him tagging behind. 

“Pssh, me? Never.” Sam scoffed, I turned around and glared at him, causing him to chuckle. I shook my head and walked towards the window, once again admiring the never ending amount of people when suddenly a pair of arms wrapped around me and picked me up twirling me around. Causing me to scream, and causing a few people from the pier to look up in confusion.

“Sam!” I slapped his arm, glancing out the window to see a crowd had gathered to stare up at our window.

“Oh, um....sorry!” I yelled down, cautiously waving at them. This caused them to glare at me, grumbling as they dispersed.

“Sam, I swear- Sam?” I turned to once again scold him, but he was nowhere in sight, until I felt a tug on my ankle. I looked down to see Sam ducked under the window, escaping the glares and angry mumbles of the people outside.

“Seriously?” I shook my head and crossed my arms. “What did you say again? ‘I’m not a trouble maker’.” I mimicked his low voice.

“Okay, okay. Let me make it up to you.” He rose to his feet and grabbed my arms, searching my eyes for an answer. 

“Fine.” I sighed.

~

Sam and I sat on the edge of the water, the waves slowly came up to kiss our toes before retreating back towards the ocean. The moon and the stars reflected on the ocean, providing our only light source.

“I can’t believe we’re back in California.” Sam breathed out, my head laid on his shoulder.

“We always said we’d come back.” I drank back another beer. “After all the crazy adventuring of course.”

“Yeah.”

“Well, the crazy adventuring that Nate and I did anyway.” I smiled. “Or like you said that you’d be back from Panama in only a few days.” I lightly nudged him.

“Yeah that didn’t work out as planned.” Sam smiled, letting the conversation fall into a comfortable silence between us. 

“Hey Sam, do you remember what you said to me? Back when we were seventeen?” I asked, recollecting the memories of our youth.

“I said a lot of things to you...”

“Do you think we’ll live forever?” I asked, closing my eyes. I felt like that seventeen year old girl again, chasing after a boy who smoked cigarettes and rode motorcycles, not knowing then what would happen.

Sam smiled, “I don’t need forever, I just need you.” 

[imagineclaireandjamie]

anonymous asked: I love Joe!!! I would love to see more of him in Modern Glasgow or any other idea that strikes any of y'alls fancy. I think he is truly the only good friend Claire ever had (beyond Jamie, naturally) and I wished the books had even more Joe and Claire moments!

Read the other chapters here.

Our Story

[December 24th, 1998]

There is something to be said for the peculiar hour of the blue-morning, when a hospital beeps into quiet life. The rattle of death behind drawn curtains, expletives hissed over set bones and shots taken in the thigh. It is not like Jamie’s Grampian refuge, which springs forth naturally from the earth. Instead, Boston GH scars the landscape, numbing loneliness through morphine drips and the tug of sheer necessity.

It is during this gradual reawakening, that Claire hides in a closet, imagines the pink, wet sacs of her lungs contract and expand. She counts her breaths—one, two, three, one, two, three—to release the night’s chaos, still lodged in her throat. 

During the wild evening hours, Claire sees only what exists outside her body. Such an easy thing to do as a doctor, this sudden corporeal separation: leap into the procedural dance, embrace the temporary loss of yourself to the staunching of blood and the sewing of sutures. 

But eventually, the window of calm arrives, and the wall of dissociation begins to crumble. Claire, in her closet sanctuary, returns to her body once more, the sight of her arms and her hands like four old friends, reacquainted.

Claire hunkers down between two shelves, and relief travels from foot to torso, settling somewhere inside her gut. As always, she has brought her medical bag—a gift from her husband, CER embossed in golden filigree—and rummages through it. As always, she finds the folder and flicks it open, seeking the page that is stowed inside. She is forever tethered to its final sentence, which launches a fresh rip of longing straight to her chest.

And as always, she goes back to the beginning, following the words. Fingers like greedy sponges, text absorbing into skin.

NEW YORK CITY, 11:30AM - The diner hushes when the bell tinkles, announcing the arrival of literary darling James Fraser. He is a giant in more ways than one: six-feet tall, wide-set shoulders, and a critically-acclaimed author with legions of fans. But for all his inches and his clout, Fraser is blissfully unaware of the eyes on his back. When he sits opposite me and shakes my hand, I, like the rest of the world, find him to be impulsively likable.

Sporting one month’s growth of beard and a wrinkled v-neck, it doesn’t take long for Fraser’s roguish charm to earn a free meal. He is quick to thank the waitress, and for not the first time, one has to wonder how the man could possibly be single. Surely his good looks, his talent, and Reformed Bad Boy reputation draws the ladies in? 

Point proven: our waitress lingers, hungry for Fraser’s attention, but he closes his menu after ordering a glass of lemonade. (An odd choice, but then our writing heroes are full of idiosyncrasies, aren’t they?) I almost leap to console the girl, that poor thing, as she runs a self-conscious hand down her apron.

Alas, one gets the impression that it isn’t pickiness keeping Fraser romantically unattached. Nor is it misogyny or closeted homosexuality (despite what those tabloid vipers spit). James Fraser simply enjoys his place in the lonely hearts club—and is perfectly content to stay there, sipping ice-cold lemonade.

Frank’s ring glides across the lines, pauses over “single”. Such a different life, so removed from Claire’s, though here it thrums beneath her hands. Suddenly, her head grows heavier, weighted by the chain draped around her neck. Jamie’s thistle ring dangles there, cold as death against her. Forever tucked inside her shirts, a secret between her breasts. (Frank lets her wear it, just as she lets him wear his stained button-downs, other women smiling from the collars.)

Fraser’s second and latest novel, Two Centuries in Purgatory, released just last month to stellar reviews. Hailed as a “modern classic” by The New York Times (and truly, it is), Purgatory has found a comfortable seat at the top of the bestseller lists, and shows no signs of losing momentum. Now touring the U.S., Fraser seems nonplussed by the bustle of the Big Apple, his eighth time to our concrete jungle (“I’ve a parade of publisher meetings and interviews tomorrow,” he grumbles). Though he’s a longtime resident of both Edinburgh and Glasgow, he says no city feels like home nowadays. “Where is home then?” I ask him, and in traditional Fraser fashion, he deadpans: “Lost.”

For all his fame and glory, there is something decidedly melancholy about James Fraser. But of course, we all know why. We’ve read his books, haven’t we? We know his story.

Gillian Edgars: Are you enjoying your lemonade, Mr. Fraser?

James Fraser: Aye, verra much so. Lemonade in Scotland doesna taste like this.

GE: Mmmm, exploring the pleasures of America. I like it. Now, shall we begin? Let’s start with Two Centuries in Purgatory. 

Claire brings the page a few inches closer. This is not the first time she has read the article, its edges worn to yellowing curls. 

A familiar anger sinks its claws into her side, as this reproduction of Jamie staggers into a flickering half-life. Gillian Edgars thinks she knows the man behind the book jacket. The entire world, for that matter, believes they can claim the bold-faced names on their hardbacks: James Fraser.

But, Claire seethes, do these people know that Jamie smiles in his sleep? That he’s prone to seasicknesses, could not wink at the waitress even if he tried? No. Only Claire knows these smaller, intimate truths—but still, they are not enough. Jamie, no longer only hers, but a communal being disseminated and shared amongst millions. Strangers have molded her Jamie into something new, into hollow casts of their false impressions.

Without warning, the closet door swings open and Joe Abnernathy leans in. “Knew I’d find you in here,” he says, but he draws up short. His smile falters when he sees Claire on the ground. Falters further still when he reads the headline, “Scotland’s Newest Literary Hero.” on the page and on her face.

“Lady Jane, why do you do this to yourself? We’re working, I know, but can’t you try to be merry? It’s officially Christmas Eve!”

Joe kneels down, and levels his gaze with hers—the gentle but silent disappointment of an older brother. Claire holds firm when he pries the clipping from her grasp, the paper snagging the skin of her palm. It glides over and up, a shallow curve that splits into fine, shining rubies. A jeweled J, just at the base of her thumb. 

Claire presses the wound to her teeth, tastes the heady, metallic taste of herself. (Later, she will trace the cut with reverence, grateful to be marred, at the very least, by a shade of Jamie.) Joe tsks and reaches for a shelf, bringing back the first aid kit.

“Perks of hiding in a hospital supply closet. Bandages, everywhere. Take this.”

“It’s fine, Joe,” Claire assures him but accepts the bandaid anyways (Later, she will paste it on before she leaves, for the J should be hidden. Hers alone). “I’m fine—just a bad day and a scratch. See? No significant blood loss.” 

“Phew. Thought I’d witnessed the first fatal paper cut,” Joe says, but then continues, more softly, “LJ, I thought you’d given this up. That Frank made you promise you’d stop.”

“He did,” Claire replies. “And I did too, for a while.”

Her stomach turns as the memory resurfaces: her husband, feeding the shredder a feast of papers. The machine’s tight-lipped and fanged smile, destroying Claire’s collection of articles, her glimpses of Jamie. Frank had held her as the teeth had chewed, tightened his grip when she repeated his words back to him, “Time to leave the past behind.” And afterwards, once the beast’s belly had emptied into the trash, Frank had dragged the bag of shreds to the curb. Claire had looked on, standing in the doorway. A soldier’s wife already in mourning.

(That evening, she almost snuck outside to piece the words together, for old habits die hard and a planet will always yearn for her sun. But then Frank’s arm had risen in the darkness, flopped sleepily across her waist. The weight of it had held her there, and so she’d stayed, picturing the night creatures stealing Jamie away, piece by piece.)

“I just…wanted to see what people were saying. About his new book.” She sighs. “I know I’m being ridiculous. But – it’s just that…”

“He’s everywhere, ain’t he? In the papers, on TV. Saw they’re making a Lifetime adaptation of A Blade of Grass. Jesus.”

Claire nods. “Must say, I’m steering clear of that one.” (But she won’t, of course. Claire will want to see herself and Jamie on that screen, their better, manufactured selves broadcasted in technicolor.)

“You’re really gonna let me down like that, Lady Jane? I thought we’d drink cheap Scotch, put the movie on mute, and invent the dialogue ourselves. Next weekend, the two of us. Drunk and vengeful. Whaddya say?”

“A hard pass, Joe. We’ll be in Oxford for the holidays, anyways. Visiting Frank’s family.”

“Well, la-di-dah. I’ll be on this side of Atlantic throwing popcorn at my TV.” Joe leaps to his feet when his pager beeps. As he walks out the door, his hand flies to his coat pocket and he withdraws a shabby paperback. “Before I forget—a Christmas gift, for the Lady. If you’re gonna scramble your brain with nonsense, let it be the fault of Tessa’s ‘membrane of innocence’. Not ‘Scotland’s Newest Literary Hero.’”

Claire laughs and flips through The Impetuous Pirate, inhaling its smell of antiseptic and mildew, the vestiges of long-ago fingerprints. A Harlequin, taken from the hospital waiting room. “Aye aye, captain. But if it’s all the same to you, I’ll stay here in Davy Jones’ Locker for a while longer.”

“Slack-arrr,” Joe jokes, turning swiftly on his heel. She hears his cry boom down the hallway. “Operating room, ahoy!”

Alone again, Claire tucks The Impetuous Pirate inside her bag, picks up the discarded article from the floor. For the first time, she notices its publication date, October 20th, was her 31st birthday. She cannot remember the details of the occasion—did Frank take her to a concert, or to a movie? Buy her flowers or chocolates?—and yet a foreign scene plays so clearly in her mind. Something cut from the script of her life, the stagehand’s hook pulling her to the wings before she has a chance to speak. Cast in the closet’s dim spotlight, it unfolds as the playact that could have been but never was:

Jamie, in the New York diner, drinking lemonade. Condensation like dew drops, rolling down the pitcher. A young girl, in Gillian Edgars’ place, singing a high soprano. And Claire, beside her, blowing out candles in a single huff.

As she slices the birthday cake, Claire nicks her finger on the knife’s blade. “Kiss to make it better!” the young girl cries, and Jamie does, his lips on the sting and then Claire’s mouth. He tastes of citrus, of yellow and sunshine, a marigold paradise in a city of dying autumn leaves. “Does it still hurt, Sassenach?” he asks her. “Not anymore,” she says. And when the little girl giggles, watching them, it is something sacred. She licks the frosting from the candles. “So what’d you wish for, Mama?” she asks, not knowing that, in a moments like these, there is no need for wishes.

Claire’s pager rings, rearranging her memories. Now she remembers her 31st birthday—and knows it did not happen in that diner. On that day, there was no little girl, no citrus kisses in a molting New York. (But in a parallel land, perhaps, where the lemonade is phosphorescent and you can eat the stars.) Instead, Frank had taken Claire to the opera house, a drawn-out affair they had both fidgeted through. He’d led her to the bedroom, with its king-sized bed, and slipped off her dress while she kept her chain on. “Talk to me,” he’d panted, silver thistles against her chest. And when she came, it was not Frank’s body that drew her cries. It was not Frank’s name that rose from her lips.

Claire scans the article, skipping again to the final paragraphs. Here lies the line she reads over and over, the very reason she shells $20 for subscriptions, scavenges in bins for scraps. Anything to discover some evidence of herself, some proof that she still lives in the peripheries of Jamie’s life. And whenever she finds it, it pours into her and lingers, like wine.

GE: Your debut was quite impressive—an instant bestseller, an Oprah Book Club pick, an upcoming TV movie. I’m sure you’ve been asked this before…but allow me to be a hack, for just one moment. Let me ask the nosy questions. Let me pry. 

JF: I dinna have a fear of rats [SMILES]. Get on wi’ it then.

GE: I appreciate it, Mr. Fraser, I do [LAUGHS]. The protagonist’s struggles in A Blade of Grass—the financial woes, the criminal record, the years of solitude—they seem to mirror your own. Is it accurate to say that the book is autobiographical?

“Randall?” a voice calls from outside the closet. “Randall, are you in there? Mr. Duncan in Room #18 needs to be—”

“Prepped for surgery, I know!” Claire finishes. Her voice is shrill, rising with her goosebumps as she nears the interview’s end. “I’ll be out in a second, Dr. Hildegarde!”

JF: In some respects, aye, A Blade of Grass is autobiographical. Mind, I made a lot of it up myself. Embellished a few things. 

GE: Oh yes, certainly! But even without your embellishments, your life does make for such an interesting tale. In a way, your struggles are what made you a literary sensation. But still, I do wonder—do you regret any of it? The gamble, the money, the arrest? 

JF: [LAUGHS QUIETLY] I thank ye for the compliment, Ms. Edgars, but I hope my sins are no’ responsible for the book’s success. And for the record, they were largely exaggerated by the press. 

GE: Ah, right. We rats are despicable creatures, always making bread from crumbs. But it never rises in the oven, not really.

JF: Have ye tried poetry before, Ms. Edgars? You’ve a knack for it [LOOKS AWAY]. But nay, it isna the crimes themselves that I regret most. Whether they were exaggerated or no. 

GE: Really? There’s something else [LEANS FORWARD]? Will you tell me then, your life’s biggest regret? Or will you keep me and your readers in the dark, forever wondering what keeps our beloved James Fraser up at night?

Now Claire closes her hand into a fist, forces herself to bleed out from that thin, half-mooned J. She imagines Jamie’s face, inscrutable to Gillian Edgars, but fixed in an expression that she, and only she, can read. And if Claire had been there on that October afternoon, sitting in the diner’s vinyl booth, she would have understood. Would’ve known already what Jamie regretted most, what he would and could not say aloud. For within this precious, final line—their spoken and unspoken wishes:           

JF: My biggest regret? I let the story end early.

(JF: I should have loved her better—God! I should have loved her better.)