#fucking tornados in the middle of winter

[ramblingoak]

Messy haired Copia is what we all deserve right now.

[reallyromealone]

We want more of this please 🙏🥺

https://www.tumblr.com/reallyromealone/735239715115106304/i-can-already-imagine-what-will-jean-and-barbaras

Title: meeting the in-laws

Fandom: genshin impact

Warnings: male reader, fluff, innuendos

Notes: none

☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️🩷☁️

(name) was jovial with his life, his beloved husband even going as far as to build a small temple for (name) in the grand mansion they lived in. Pantalone learned fast that fancy gifts didn't hold the weight that love and time did, the spectacled man often making time in his busy schedule to make it home for dinners or lunches when he could, of course never leaving without some loving from his sweetheart.

"A letter from my sister's!" Pantalone learned that (name) was the middle sibling of three, a younger sister who took his mantle of Deaconess at their church and an elder sister who was a knight, something that made Pantalone hesitant "they wish to meet you!" His precious bunny seemed over the moon that his beloved family wanted to meet his husband "they couldn't come to the wedding so they wish to meet you! They're coming to visit next month!"

Pantalone didn't know how to approach this, his sweet little snow bunny so happy that his sisters were visiting but he knew them both and knew the elder would be at his throat in a second...but not if (name) was present.

He was like a cute little shield.

With each day passing (name) could barely keep his excitement contained, Pantalone having to fuck the energy out of the other to keep him less of a tornado.

"They're here!" (Name) said rushing down to the foyer to see his two sisters in winter attire "(name)!" Barbara squealed as she ran to her older brother who beamed "how are you (name)?" Jean asked she looked over her younger brother who beamed "I'm great! Come in come in! I want you guys to meet my husband!" The two sisters were sceptical, they saw the wedding photos that were sent and were less than impressed that (name) was stolen by one of them.

"This is my husband, pantalone! These are my sister's, Barbara and Jean!" The two sisters glared daggers at the fatui who in turn smiled charmingly, though the two could tell it was smugness "pleasure to meet you both, (name) speaks quite highly of you both" Pantalone said cooly as they went to the parlor, the room warm and inviting as (name) put photos of family and events, weddings and birthdays in ornate frames.

"He has spoken of you as well" Jean said through gritted teeth as they sat down "big house... You two planning on children with a house this grand?" Barbara asked absentmindedly, knowing (name) wanted little ones "maybe in the future, for now I just want to show (name) all I have to offer" he wanted to be able to do lecherous acts wherever he wanted without little eyes watching. "(Name) wants many children, think you can handle that?"

"As long as my beloved is happy" (name) happily slipped his drink, fully unaware his family were all arguing Silently, passive aggressive remarks and rage from the sister.

(Name) showed them everything, Pantalone investing in a whole large room for (name)s prayers and such, it was quite beautiful as if it were a micro version of the one back home.

"(Name), are you happy?" Jean asked earnestly as (name) beamed "I never been this happy, he's wonderful..." He said softly as pantalone had to leave to work, he was a busy man after all.

"Just... Please visit us sometime, promise?" Barbara asked softly to her older brother"of course barbs"

It was ten months later when the two sisters,

Received a letter with a photo, it was (name) and pantalone with a little one year old, a precious little girl they adopted and (name) was beaming ear to ear.

Pantalone was just happy (name) had something to focus his attention to while the banker had to attend his work, banking and other activities.

"Still hope pantyloner stabs himself in the foot" jean grumbled as she framed the photo, focusing on her brother and nephew.

[swaglet]

yap post about architecture and climate. maybe you'll find it interesting

that post about architecture becoming homogenous across the world is true but it doesn't even mention how DANGEROUS something like that can be. like. humans started building permanent settlements depending on wherever their group ended up, and their individual climate determined what materials they built their shelters out of, how high off the ground/how deep they built them, how far from shore they built them, etc..... like. i'm not an architect i know next to nothing about architecture but you know what pisses me off? brick houses with asphalt or clay tile shingle roofs and a basement with solid brick foundation walls are the ultimate superior option where i live for climate control reasons. they are more resilient to tornadoes (especially the debris being flung around by the tornado so they're less likely to collapse from the debris), the inside of your house is kept cool during hot summer temperatures especially if you have trees and plants for shade outside your home above your roof, the inside stays warm when you heat it up and the heat doesn't readily escape through the brick walls or the roof tiles during the cold extended winter months, and you can open up the windows as you please during spring and fall because it's usually room temperature outside for most of those seasons anyway and then you can save on the heating/cooling bill and all that. like literally all year round. especially if you have a fireplace and a little bit of insulation in all your walls and the roof, you literally will have no heat escape and you won't even need to turn your heater on. the clay/asphalt roof tiles with any type of insulation under them make it so that your roof won't collapse if there's a ton of snow sitting on top of it even for weeks on end. both the material of the shingles and the insulation will stop the cold from seeping in and it'll stay warm even though there's like a foot of snow on your roof. we have asphalt tile shingles that have not been replaced or even touched in 20 years since this house was built and there has never been a single leak of water into this house from the ceiling and by god does it rain something fierce here. there have been tree limbs and rocks and shit flung at the roof during small tornadoes and the worst thing that happened was a few tiles got dislodged and we put them back up after the storm was over.

this is an extremely wooded area. pennsylvania is literally means "Penn's forest country" we are THE state for timber and wood and whatnot. if a tree were to fall on your brick house with clay/asphalt shingles after it was blown over or struck by lightning in a storm, it has a lot better of a chance of staying intact than a flimsy wooden beam house with a thin metal sheet for a roof and some more wooden beams underneath it. your plastic siding panels made to look like wood are all going to crack and crumble and like. explode. the moment that tree hits your house. that tree is coming into your living room. if lightning strikes your house, or your porch, or anything near your house like a tree or your garage or anything flammable, your house could be engulfed in flames and you will burn to death. that literally happened here not even a year ago btw. there was a really bad storm and lightning struck a tree in someone's backyard and the tree caught fire and it eventually fell and crashed through their porch and lit their whole house on fire and to add salt to the wound it landed on their power box outside their house so it exploded everything inside so all their wires caught fire as well and everyone except a little girl died because it happened in the middle of the night. brick houses are fire resistant and so are clay&asphalt tiles and that was a freak ass accident and since the flaming tree hit their power box they probably still would have been fucked anyway if they didn't have a cheap ass modern infrastructure fuck ass house but maybe stuff like that would happen less if we paid attention to what our climates are like and what materials are best for our area........... rip to that family i drive past the lot that their house was on almost everyday and think about them

Idk i rant about this shit all the time to my boyfriend like. i wish the housing market (and the market in general) wasn't absolutely diabolical right now because i genuinely want to build a small little cozy house sims-style someday, from scratch, that is entirely based on the climate and weather of where i live and make it as power efficient and safe as possible. Does anyone else ever think about this stuff

Like. Why the hell are all the houses being built nowadays all made with fugly ass metal roofs and shitty ugly fake wooden panel siding on the outside. So inefficient, so useless, so swagless. What is the purpose. We added an extension to our garage recently and metal roofing was the only affordable option and if you step inside that part of the garage it boils you alive in the summer if it's hot out. i CANNOT imagine that shit on top of my real life actual house

[urwendii]

Part 7(alt): Mai Mae & Ossë Roadtrip in Middle Earth.

Look, it's disjointed as usual. I had Maedhros feelings. Rest of the serie can be found: here

It is a wonder really, that the fortress stands at all. Poised on jagged rocks, isolated in the middle of the ocean. Alone and solitary, a piece of the past mummified by distance, cradled by the winds ever changing.

They have to go there, somehow. It seems important. The journey is long and feels too much like pilgrimage to him. Ossë laughs, because the sea he says, the sea is singing loudly there. Mairon frowns and glares and glowers. He hates water and he especially hates isolated islands.

They enter Himring at dusk, bathed in Arien's golden rays, where shadows lengthen and threaten to catch Maedhros' mind.

It is not a good place to be. His former home in an otherwise sunken continent. Nothing has been displaced. It's eerily familiar in its ruin.

"The walls." The former Úmaia says, eyes narrowing as he leans forward and inspects the scratch paint. Fiery orange eyes find Maedhros, a hint of something almost like begrudge respect of a craftsman.

"They had to stand." Maedhros simply answers. Mairon nods, still unervingly watching him.

"No wonder we could not break you." He finally says. Maedhros smirks coldly. He has Sung himself his Will in Himring, to wistand time and evil. He wonders how him and Mairon can even stand within.

Ossë whines about something, Maedhros as usual ignores his antics.

"Why here then?"

The unpredictable Maia's attitude changes, his eyes holding Maedhros in. Sometimes he is rather sick of his two Maiar travel companions.

"There is evil here." Ossë states, voice going low, his words echoing with the otherworldlyness of his kind.

Maedhros says nothing. Lifts his right arm and wordlessly points his stump at Mairon without breaking eye contact with Ossë.

"Hilarious." Comes the deadpan reply but Ossë is cackling and Maedhros is genuinely smirking, self satisfied.

He asks again though, for even if joking, he is aware the only stain within these walls had been back then, himself and his brothers, the Oath churning in their blood.

Or maybe another sin of different nature. Maedhros had been weak and had kissed Fingon in his room, one winter night. Attached his lips to his cousin and doomed him to death by the same occasion. Sin of flesh of kin too close, he thinks, might be frown upon by those who are making the rules of Arda. Or used to.

"No. Ainur care not about bloodlines." Mairon's words hit Maedhros like a small tornado and scatters the rest of his thoughts. He cannot help the glance, a comfirmation toward the Maia. The other redhead simply rolls his eyes, then drags four fingers against the wall.

"If not this, then what?" He has learned long ago love can be a weapon, and it can break you. Or reforme you.

"Are you going to enlighten me on the nature of your puzzling conversation?" Ossë grumbles.

"Nelyafinwë fucking his cousin."

Maedhros let the words slide over him. Ossë blinks, then shrugs.

"Ah."

"That's not what Fishtail meant by evil."

Ossë's hiss at the insult only further Mairon's smirk.

"Surely it must be." Surely, because this is Maedhros' original sin. This infatuation, this desire, his inability to stay away from someone who should have, by all right, always remain happy. Not tied to whatever Maedhros had slowly become between the Exile and the Nirnaeth.

"He's mocking you."

He feels tired.

Ossë cackles, the sound of it like waves crashing against shores.

"I am, I am. But you shall remain here all the same. For healing. Or something. Lady Estë said."

He is sitting on the dusty floor, trying to block emotions.

"Lord Námo said the Oath had been voided." He remembers the burn of the Silmaril with enough clarity. "Himring was a beacon. My brothers they-"

He does not finish his sentence and bites his lips. "I could not go back here after the Tears. We had lost the lands." He thinks madly of a future where it had not, him back to his fortress, broken of heart but his people safe, his brothers managed. Fleetingly he pictures Dior's twins, safe and alive and maybe later-

Mairon press against his mind. Sharp and intent and Maedhros takes a sudden deep breath.

"The lands were ours. You would not have lasted. You could not have won."

He wants to think they could have.

"No. We only lost because Eönwë arrived."

They had been Doomed.

"You had killed."

Yes. And he did far worse later.

"I hated this place. I forced myself to ever look upon the Peaks." Then something blooms in the back of his mind. A small thread, threatening to unravel and slips between his fingers.

"It was punishment. I deserved the cold and the isolation."

"Did you?" Ossë chims, an almost gentle expression on his ever impish face.

"I had to go away. I wanted the Stones, it beckoned me. I had to."

He thinks of Fingon again. "I wanted him for myself. And I resented him for saving me. For forcing me to keep my word. But it was all me. Always. My own choices." The words are whispered, he stares inside the fireplace, dead and empty and tries to keep from breaking at the seams. Here, in this place again, he feels almost back into that old broken body, shoulder throbbing in constant pain, the Oath itching under his skin.

"Did you know," Mairon begins, somewhere to his right. Fire suddenly bursts into life in the hearth and cast long shadows on the walls. "That I wanted you dead."

Maedhros snorts.

"Melkor however," Mairon continues, his face showing the hint of a cutting smile, "designed a far cruellest idea. Foresight was not his strong suit, yet he guessed that allowing you back to the Noldor would later indirectly serve us."

Maedhros says nothing as he gazes upon the fire. At last, when a minute or two have passed and that even Ossë has taken a seat, he looks up and into Mairon's eyes and says with simple finality.

"I knew."

By the second Kinslaying, the irony of it had made him laugh in near madness as he buried his younger brothers.

"You should have killed me." He casually adds, after another pause.

"It was not for a lack of wanting to."

Outside Arien has vanished to let Tilion shows off.

"You two really have ruined the mood for the night."

[witchstone]

okay, birds seen at home in june round up! comes to a total of 62 species, which is oddly high for the middle of winter. the highlight was the green twinspot, which i’d only got my first ever sighting of two weeks earlier. presumably it had only found its way to our garden because of the heavy rains and flash floods (and the tornado what the fuck) a few days prior - they’re forest birds, whereas our area is more broad-leaf woodland.

full list and photos under the cut!

bar-throated apalis, black-collared + crested + white-eared barbet, cape batis, dark-capped bulbul, green-backed camaroptera*, yellow-fronted canary, fork-tailed drongo, crowned eagle*, southern black flycatcher, african dusky flycatcher, african paradise flycatcher (odd for this time of year), egyptian goose, gymnogene, southern hadeda, purple-crested loerie. speckled mousebird, black-headed oriole, rose-ringed parakeet*, black-backed puffback, red-capped robin-chat, cape glossy + black-bellied + red-winged starling, collared + greater double-collared + olive + amethyst + white-bellied sunbird, olive + kurrichane thrush, golden-rumped tinkerbarbet, southern black tit, spectacled + village weaver, cape white-eye, cardinal + golden-tailed woodpecker, red-eyed + tambourine* dove, brown-hooded kingfisher, red-backed + bronze mannikin, klaas’s cuckoo*, lesser honeyguide, grey-headed bushshrike*, familiar chat, southern grey-headed sparrow, woolly-necked stork, sombre greenbul*, green woodhoopoe, cape wagtail, southern boubou, black sparrowhawk, african palm swift, green twinspot, black cuckooshrike?, black-headed heron, little sparrowhawk?, pied crow, african goshawk

* = call heard, no visuals, ? = i’m reasonably sure it was that, but not 100%

dark-capped bulbul, taken at a nature reserve up the hill

eurytela dryope

not sure yet. maybe a mocker swallowtail judging by the body?

olive sunbird my beloved

the green twinspot!! absolutely not a great photo, but i was surprised to get a pic at all tbh. either a female or juvenile

bosduival’s tree nymph

souther hadeda. chicken sized rats and the worst dawn chorus you’ve ever heard

golden-tailed woodpecker

gold-spotted sylph. have never seen one before in my life, but it was hanging around the laundry

southern black tit!

[callunavulgari]

"The kingdom come, the rise, the fall The setting sun above it all I just wanna be somebody to you"

Heather’s Top 50 Songs of 2023

thumbs — sabrina carpenter // dragostea din tei — feuerschwanz // edge of midnight — miley cyrus & stevie nicks // warrior of the mind — jorge rivera-herrans // happier than ever — kelly clarkson // flowers — miley cyrus // see you again — miley cyrus // six — six cast // fairytale — joel sunny // middle of the night — elley duhe // our light — lyn // it's terror time again — sesamoid // eat your young — hozier // step into darkness — dubkiller // got you — ga eun // just a man — jorge rivera-herrans // labour — paris paloma // the tornado — owl city // green green grass — george ezra // suzume — radwimps // can't take my eyes off you — boys town gang // survive — jorge rivera-herrans // mermaids— florence & the machine // unknown/Nth — hozier // we didn't start the fire — fall out boy // hold me like a grudge — fall out boy // where is the justice — death note musical // 30/90 — andrew garfield // everyday — buddy holly // i'm just ken — ryan gosling // what was i made for? — billie eilish // speechless — naomi scott // son of nyx — hozier // damage gets done — hozier & brandi carlile // paradise valley — honey and the sting // stand by me — florence & the machine //  my prayer — the platters // baby don't hurt me — david guetta // quietly yours — birdy // someone to you  — banners // one more time — blink 182 // adelaide — ramblewood // i'm just your problem — lur // you're gonna be okay — ashh blackwood // mr lonely  — angel olsen // now and then — the beatles // vois sur ton chemin — bennett // history is now — natalie holt // purpose is glorious — natalie holt // the power — borislav slavov

short version | long version | spotify wrapped

short version is the link to what you see here, my helpfully abridged version. long version will lead you to the 141 song, 8 hour and 17 minute supercut playlist which i’ve been slowly cultivating since early january. spotify wrapped will lead you to a mixture of the long and the short version, which is honestly pretty accurate but does not helpfully represent my ear worms of the week. i also skewed my data for it by listening to the spiritfarer and hollow knight soundtracks on repeat to ease the wedding anxieties.

also fun fact, the cover for this year's mix is actually a picture of the tree outside our room during our wedding day.

under the cut are the lyrics that really resonated with me and only a little personal tidbits from this year, because let's be real, nobody cares.

i. thumbs || sabrina carpenter 'cause that's just the way of the world it never ends 'til the end and then you start again

This one was playing as we left the florence concert late last year and dogged me all through january and february last winter. ii. dragostea din tei || feuerschwanz Alo, salut, sunt eu un haiduc Si te rog iubirea mea primeste fericirea

Yes, it's a metal cover. Yes, I found it on tiktok. Yes, I love it unconditionally.

iii. edge of midnight || miley cyrus & stevie nicks The midnight sky is the road I'm takin' Head high up in the clouds (oh, oh)

There's THREE Miley Cyrus songs on here this year. Nuts. I really loved cranking this while driving home from Newark back when I was still hybrid. Much serotonin in those gray winter months. iv. warrior of the mind || jorge rivera-herrans & teagan earley Maybe one day they'll follow me and we'll Make a greater tomorrow, then they'll see Is it REALLY a surprise that Epic grabbed me by the throat this year?

v. happier than ever || kelly clarkson You ruined everything good Always said you were misunderstood Made all my moments your own Just fucking leave me alone I actually ended up hearing the Billie Eilish version of this first, but I ended up reading a post about how Billie's version was for the shitty boyfriend's of the world but Kelly's was to her mom and just. That resonated SO so much that it's stuck with me ever since. I have a complicated relationship with mine. She didn't come to my wedding this year. Anyway, definitely screamed this in my car on long drives. vi. flowers || miley cyrus i can buy myself flowers write my name in the sand

I need to preface this with the fact that my partner and I have a wonderful relationship that I wouldn't trade for the world. This song is still a fucking banger. vii. see you again || miley cyrus I got my sights set on you and I'm ready to aim I have a heart that will never be tamed

Third Miley song of the year, I believe all ear worms before March. I ended up getting in a Tiktok loop of body transformations set to this song while I was really getting into working with weights. It was great inspiration that I DEARLY needed that early into things. The song is also incredibly catchy. viii. six || six cast we're one of a kind, no category too many years lost in his story I honestly feel like we saw this musical last year but this song in particular dogged me into this one. ix. fairytale || joel sunny *instrumental*

Found this instrumental version of a much beloved song due to a random discover weekly and loved it so much that I seriously considered using it in my wedding. x. middle of the night || elley duhe Come, lay me down 'Cause you know this 'Cause you know this sound

Shh, it's the horny booktok song. I won't be shamed. xi. our light || lyn 夢を夢と気づいた夜 君を見つめ瞼を閉じる 温もりも重ねた手も声も 目覚めれば微睡みへと消えて

I have been trying to finish persona 5 royal since 2020. this year, i finally beat it. xii. it's terror time again || sesamoid Oh, you just might die of fright, It's a terrifying time.

Yes, it's a Scooby Doo remix. yes, I love it. xiii. eat your young || hozier I'm starving, darling Let me put my lips to something Let me wrap my teeth around the world The horniest Hozier song since Take Me to Church in my humble opinion. I adored it immediately. xiv. step into darkness || dubkiller Blood on your hands, maybe you're dreaming? Do you believe, nightmares you're seeing?

Tiktok? xv. got you || ga eun Will you promise you’ll rescue me Take me from eternal loneliness

This was the theme song (I think?) to a Korean drama we were obsessed with for a little bit and I don't think we ever finished? Song is interesting though and sticks with you. xvi. just a man || jorge rivera-herrans When does a ripple become a tidal wave? When does the reason become the blame? When does a man become a monster? More Epic, because I am a mythology loving twelve year old at heart. The many, MANY tiktoks to this particular song did not help.

xvii. labour || paris paloma The capillaries in my eyes are bursting If our love died, would that be the worst thing?

It's catchy. I had more typed out but tumblr fucking ate it, so fuck it.

xviii. the tornado || owl city A little rain never hurt no one, so I kept pressin' on And I tried to tell myself it's always darkest before the dawn

Another song I played very loudly while driving home.

xix. green green grass || george ezra Green, green grass, blue, blue sky You better throw a party on the day that I die

Dancy song!

xx. suzume || radwimps ル・ル・ルルルルル・ルルル・ルルルルルル ル・ル・ルルルルル・ルルル・ルルルルルル We saw this in theaters! I really loved it! xxi. can't take my eyes off you || boys town gang You're just too good to be true Can't take my eyes off of you The Tiktok dances got me. More serotonin when I really needed it. xxii. survive || jorge rivera-herrans Six hundred lives I'll take Six hundred lives I'll break And when I kill you, then my deed is over

More Epic! xxiii. mermaids || florence & the machine You only get one night upon the shore So dance like you've never danced before

I love Florence. That is all. xxiv. unknown / nth || hozier You know the distance never made a difference to me I swam a lake of fire, I'd have walked across the floor of any sea

Hozier was honestly the artist that kept me the most company this year if I'm not counting Spiritfarer or Hollow Knight. xxv. we didn't start the fire || fall out boy Mars rover, Avatar, self-driving electric cars SSRI's, Prince and The Queen die World trade, second plane, what else do I have to say?

I know it won't happen, but I hope every generation does a remake/remix of this song. Also, I saw Billy Joel himself in concert this year! xxvi. hold me like a grudge || fall out boy Hold me, hold me like a grudge The world is always spinning, and I can't keep up, whoa Honestly, I was a fan. xxvii. where is the justice || death note cast isn't everybody sick to death of all this stuff can't we all stand up and say enough?

This song gets stuck in my head like no one's business. xxviii. 30/90 || tick tick boom cast making choices, wicked witches poppy fields, or men behind the curtain tiger lilies, ruby slippers clock is ticking, that's for certain I still think that if Stranger Things did a musical episode Steve Harrington would have Andrew Garfield from Tick Tick Boom energy. xxix. everyday || buddy holly Every day seems a little longer Every way, love's a little stronger

Good Omens 2 dropped! I loved it! I also didn't love it! But mostly I was just happy. xxx. i'm just ken || ryan gosling I wanna know what's like to love, to be the real thing Is it a crime? Am I not hot when I'm in my feelings? And is my moment finally here, or am I dreaming?

I went to see this movie by myself because I was sick of waiting for someone to go with me and honestly had a great time. It was silly and fun and I loved the fact that so many dudes got so incredibly butt-hurt about it. xxxi. what was i made for || billie eilish 'Cause I, I I don't know how to feel But I wanna try

God, this song. It made me cry at the end of Barbie and I've been getting up in my feelings about it ever since. xxxii. speechless — naomi scott I will take these broken wings And watch me burn across the sky Apparently this is from the Aladdin live action? I haven't seen it so I can't confirm, but I DID hear this song this summer and fall in love with it. xxxiii. son of nyx || hozier *instrumental* This one might be my favorite? xxxiv. damage gets done || hozier And, darling, I haven't felt it since then I don't know how the feeling ended But I know being reckless and young Is not how the damage gets done

Another Hozier!!!!!! xxxv. paradise valley || honey and the sting Take what you want from me I bring it willingly

I may have done these next three out of order, but hey! I got married this year! As some of you may know, paradise valley has been the song that I have been obsessed with since I first heard it on Wolf 359 back in 2018/2019. I couldn't figure out a way to make it work in a traditional sense for the wedding, so I ended up using it as a private last dance. As the clock was hitting ten o'clock we had our dj gently shoo the stragglers out the door and just crooned this to each other in the dark. It was probably my favorite part of the entire night. xxxvi. stand by me || florence & the machine So darlin', darlin', stand by me Oh, stand by me

This was our first dance. As it should be. We timed our few spins around the 'darlins' and it honestly went great. 10 out of 10, would dance again. xxxvii. my prayer || the platters My prayer is to linger with you At the end of the day I did a sneaky thing. It was Nick's grandparents 65th wedding anniversary a few days before our wedding, so I quietly found out "their song" and had our DJ play it as the first official couples/slow dance of the night after wishing them a happy anniversary. They cried. I cried. The photographer cried. It was great. xxxviii. baby don't hurt me || david guetta What is love? Baby, don't hurt me

Yeah, it's just a catchy cover. xxxix. quietly yours || birdy I've always been yours Only yours This was from the Persuasion soundtrack and god, it's just so achingly haunting. xl. someone to you || banners I don't wanna die or fade away I just wanna be someone Well, doesn't everyone?

Look. I just wanna be someone. xli. one more time — blink 182 Do I have to die to hear you miss me? Do I have to die to hear you say goodbye? I don't wanna act like there's tomorrow I don't wanna wait to do this one more time One more time. I got tickets to their concert next year. We'll see if they cancel this one. xlii. adelaide || ramblewood Wish you could lay those shadows down And find your way back home

I think this is a local artist? I fell in love with the song though. xliii. i'm just your problem || lur Sorry I don't treat you like a goddess Is that what you want me to do?

Watched Fionna and Cake in like a day and a half and fell all the way back in love with Bonnie and Marceline. xliv. you're gonna be okay || ashh blackwood puff out your chest, take a deep breath you're gonna be okay

This showed up on an anxiety mix and now I literally sing it to myself if I'm having a fast day. It is VERY short, but impactful. xlv. mr lonely || angel olsen Now, I am a soldier A lonely soldier Away from home Through no wish of my own My Yuletide fic that has not yet been revealed was about [REDACTED]. I listened to this and a handful of other sad, lonely songs while writing it. xlvi. now and then || the beatles Oh, now and then I want you to be there for me This song has DEVASTATED me since it came out. I will not be the same again. xlvii. vois sur ton chemin || bennett Vois sur ton chemin Gamins oubliés, égarés

Another tiktok ear worm. I'm not much for techno, but I love this one. xlviii. history is now || natalie holt *instrumental*

Loki fucked me all the way up, guys. I know everyone is crying about it, and I'm crying too! It's beautiful and tragic and one of the most fantastic endings for a character arc that I have EVER seen out of Marvel. I HOPE they leave it alone. I hope they leave it as is so we get to keep the beautiful ending and they don't fuck it up. xlix. purpose is glorious || natalie holt *instrumental*

Again, fucked me ALL the way up. I wept. And watched it three times in a row. These two songs will be on my writing playlist for the rest of time. l. the power || borislav slavov I found you too soon Shining star of mine, hold tight Don't fight the power

I have not officially finished Baldur's Gate. However, every iteration of this song is haunting me.

[haloburns]

For one of the ask games,💡

💡- What’s a idea you’ve enjoyed but never/couldn’t write?

oh man, i have so many of these

there's the first "novel" i started in middle school that i never could finish because it was dystopian, and then the world got so dystopian and i was like. hm. nope. (actually just had the thought that if i shift the central message that i could make it uplifting instead of beaten down like it originally was... 🤔 )

and then i have several uhhhh religious/good vs evil dichotomy stories i started in high school/college when i was trying to figure out my world view. they're kinda cringe but i want to write them so badly. the two that stick with me are:

"follow the morning star" which is a kinda complex idea but it boils down to: god is dead, the angels have waged war against humanity, and lucifer is their silent protector. also stained glass full face masks to protect from angels. it follows the son of a rebel, whose dad disappeared trying to find god, who follows in his footsteps but accidentally ends up following the clues his father couldnt/didnt find. there's a nonbinary fallen angel and it ends with everyone (lucifer, eve, lilith, seran the fallen angel, and the MC) piling back into mum's house bc we love found family tropes

wing story where the pattern on your wings reflects the sky the moment you're born. so the main characters have wings (both bird and bat-like wings bc gotta have some separatism in the story) of all colors and types. their other physical traits also mirror their wings to a degree

some of those are: a vibrant red, orange and pink sky with a bright red sun (a sign of warning), deep blue with streaks of lightning (born during a thunder storm), his brother that has a dark sky with the stars and moon, the winter sky the moment before the sky becomes blue with light purples and blues, the sky just before dusk with bright reds and oranges mixed with indigo and dark blues (these are the bat wings), another set of star and moon wings but when her wings are folded they make the moon, a boy born at noon who has bright blue wings with the bright yellow streaking sun on his wings

and my two personal favorites: the tornado babies. nova has purples reds and greens on her charcoal wings and lilu has yellow-green wings on dark, dark wings

the world classifies what kind of person you "are" based on your wings, so the brighter more conventionally pretty wings (read: bright sky), are treated better. those with dark, or ugly, wings (Nova, Lilu, the others with dark wings) are shunted to the edges of society. even though no one has any say over what their wings look like, its still how the society is split. (there's lots of fun fucked up things you can do with the world building. parents attempting to schedule c-sections to ensure their children have the prettiest wings, getting nervous when storms come through bc they often precede booms in births, etc etc.)

i would love to work on these fics again but they ALL need massive amounts of world building and plot restructuring to not be so cringey and samey (i had a fascination with rebellions when i was a kid lmao) but rn DP has my entire hyperfocus

[wmuhummel]

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 | 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝟎𝟎𝟏

Kurt hasn't moved from the same spot he had been standing in for the last twenty-minutes. Arms crossed, eyes narrowing in contemplation as he looks over the accessories he had laid out on the middle unoccupied bed in the middle of his and Finn's dorm room. While the roommate in question was video gaming in peace and leaving Kurt alone, it wasn't stopping the idle twitch in his eye every time he would hear Finn shout in frustration at the laptop. He had debated taking his things and deciding it in the common room a few times, but knows that's an easy way for something to get stolen or lost.

So here he continues to stand.

Gloves weren't even a contender to his list of possibilities at first. Instead he had debated using a fancy, wooden walking cane to give the aristocratic appearance of higher class than the rest of his peers. It was beautifully crafted, but only used once last year at the Halloween Masquerade Ball. He had purposefully used it to whack Finn on accident in passing at the end of the night, so it had been a successful event in that regard. But as his roommate was not going to be in attendance, and he didn't want to accidentally harm Blaine, he tucked the cane back in its respected corner.

There had also been a debacle on wearing a crown, shoes with heels to make him even taller than his date but really highlight the length and curve of his legs, a kilt, a top hat, and even a brightly colored tuxedo to really stand out. All got vetoed and replaced back in storage, as tonight wasn't about making a spectacle of himself.

Tonight was about this being the first time he got asked first. And there was no way in hell he was going to go out of his way to intimidate Blaine Anderson of all people in being too flashy and making it all about himself. There would be other times for that, but tonight wasn't it.

As he dresses, he goes over planned out scripts in his head about what could possibly go wrong with the night. Outside of the obvious floods, fires, and a winter tornado blowing all of Lima away of course. Sanitizing wipes, extra pair of socks, napkins, and a small bottle of breath spray are concealed in his jacket pocket, along with his phone and keys. Something could be spilled on him looking like this, or worse, he could accidentally spill something on Blaine and make a fool out of himself - cause the guy to regret asking him at all.

What if they kissed tonight? And his breath was more savory than the food and it leads to being shamed in shared whispers among the jocks after Blaine tells Sam in disgust that it was the worse kiss he ever experienced?

What if he fell and hurt himself? What if Blaine fell and hurt himself? Would that make the front page of the Muckraker to be pointed and laughed at for the rest of semester?

What if he got a blemish?!

A quick check over, for the umpteenth time, in the shared mirror in the room, tells him that his face is clean and clear. His hair looks more chaotic than the usual put-together coif, but he wanted to try something new. Maybe a push for himself to look somewhat attractive past the insecure thought that he just wasn't Blaine's type. Was he anyone's type, really?

'Don't do this', he chastises himself in his head, straightening up and turning subtly to check himself in the mirror from all angles. 'You're only the type to those with taste in the first place. He's lucky to have you on his arm tonight. But you're also lucky to have him, and don't fuck this up.' Hands smoothing over his jacket, he turns to Finn with baited breath.

"Does anything look wrinkly or off to you?" He asks, spreading his arms and giving a half-turn for his roommate. Not that Finn's input was completely trustworthy, he was a straight guy who wore a greased stained t-shirt to class today - Kurt saw it and was horrified. But before Finn can say a thing, there's the knock and Kurt drowns his roommate out entirely.

Here goes nothing.

( @wmublaine )

[flouftie]

Nah cuz tf is going on with the weather these past few weeks????? On and off thunderstorms with tornado potential now we're getting a cold front in the middle of fucking August. We usually get those in mid/late September or early October not August

Either our winter will be nonexistent or its gonna be ROUGH

[visd3stele]

magic and kids

summary:

A/N: I really hope you like it. Thank you for your requests. Loved writing it.

art credit: @phantomrin

TW: none

@britishbookworm2 requested (if you want to leave a request as well, click)

masterlist

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

It's been four years since Taryn decided the mortal world would be a more suitable place to raise her child than Elfhame. Even if her sister was now High Queen, the fairies would still make life hard for her and her baby. Maybe not on purpose, she admits it. But magic runs wild, free and unstoppable. Used to it, the Fae Folk barely notices the dangers. And frankly, they don't care. Not allowed to use it on humans as cruelly as before, some meaner courts claim innocent ignorance. How can an entire society of enchanted beings change overnight? How could they be expected to adjust to human fragility all of a sudden?

So Taryn took her baby, promised her sister to visit and fled to Heather and Vivi's. It wasn't as hard as she'd thought. Getting used to the mortal world, that's it. And if her baby had longer canine than normal, or his ears sharpened to pointy edges to the top, it passed unnoticed. Her son certainly didn't stood out the way Vivi did, even with light brown eyes that looked orange in the sun and rusty red hair. He didn't need much glamouring either, not like Oak, Oriana or Madoc. By the time she sent him to preschool his hair was long enough to cover the ears and no one seemed to notice the teeth even without magic.

For all the talk Taryn did on how she wanted her son to be free of his father in all ways, snapping at Oak when the boy tried to teach him magic before he knew how to properly walk and forbidding her family to bring Fairyland up, she named him Renard.

Fitting, though not what she should have done. Maybe part of her can't let Locke go, not entirely. She knew he didn't particularly wanted the baby, that everything he promised her were pretty lies. But for a few months, it has been real. Their marriage, their love, their lives. She saw her dreams come true, one after another: the mistress of an important household, throwing parties for courtiers, motherhood.

Now that everything she wanted snaped broken in tiny little pieces carried away by harsh winter wind, Taryn Duarte couldn't phantom having her child become like his father.

"It has nothing to do with magic, for fuck's sake!" Vivi exploded once, after Taryn better than not threw Oak and Oriana - who came to visit - out of the apartment for trying to reach Renard's magic. "He won't become a sly, selfish fox if he can change appearance or grow horses out of leaves. It's all about his up-bringing!"

"I want him to be normal, Vivi! That's why I took him here!"

Renard has been barely one year old when the argument happened. But it was enough to take his mother's words to heart.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Four years old Renard and twelve years old Oak played outside, jumping in crusty piles of autumn leaves. The princeling hadn't given up his plans to teach his cousin magic. He refused to let go of such opportunity: a friend he didn't have to hide of, one he could play with like he used to in Elfhame.

"Hey, Ren-Ren," Oak said, "check this out!" The older boy held up his hand, brows furrowed in concentration, lip grazed between his teeth. Nothing happened for an alarming amount of time. And then... the leaves twirl around the two cousins, splashing then with guts of wind and scarce dew as it swept them up in a friendly tornado.

Renard chuckled in delight, stretching to catch some of the closer leaves. But as soon as he touched one, the whole thing fell apart. "No!" Do it again, Oak. Do it again."

"I'm sorry, Ren-Ren," Oak faked a yawned and laid on the ground. "Magic is very serious business. Very consuming. I'm too tired to even move." He let his eyes close dramatically, watching Renard between his lashes. Truth be told, every time he did magic Oak felt good. Vibrant. As if the earth itself reached out and gave him life. But Renard didn't need to know that yet. He can definitely learn it by himself if Oak's plan works out.

The younger boy pouted and dropped on the ground. "Not fair," he muttered to himself.

"You know, Ren-Ren, you're half fae. That means there's a pretty good chance you're magic too."

"No, I'm not."

"You can't know that. Come on, give it a try!"

"No, Oak! I'm not magic. I'm not like Father, I'm like Mom. Like Mom, just like that."

Oak straightened himself, but didn't rose from the ground. "Ok, Ren-Ren. Listen up. Magic is not bad. It's fun. Don't you think it's fun?"

"Yes!" Renard nodded enthusiastically. "It's super fun. When you do it, Oak." At that the named boy own enthusiasm faded away in an instant.

"Thank you, Ren-Ren," he deadpanned. "But do you know what's more fun than watching me practice magic?" Not giving the kid a chance to answer, to even take in the question, really, Oak said "To do it yourself."

"Do you really think I should try, Oak?" Clearly, the little boy was attracted to magic. And clearly something was stopping him. But his older cousin slowly made whatever that was seem less big and scary, dragging him along in his qualms.

"Totally!"

Renard pushed his lips forward with his tongue, sticking it out through the gap in his teeth. Caramel eyes shone with desire, his red hair flown around by a cold, pleasant wind. "Ok," he gave in, as expected. "How do I do it?"

The smirk that lightened up Oak's face can only be describes as evil. Though no ill intention hid behind it. Only the knowledge his plan worked out, just like his sister, Jude's.

"Listen to me very carefully, alright? There is not just one way to make magic, Ren-Ren. You have to find your own. But for now, try the basics. Think really hard on what you want to happen. Something easy. Got anything in mind?" Renard frowned, then his eyes landed on a tree which still had some green leaves on its branches and nodded.

"Perfect! Now, imagine whatever you want to happen. Imagine it happening. Are you imagining?"

"Yes."

"No!" Oak groaned. "If you're paying attention to me, then it means you're not focusing on magic."

"But how will I know what to do if I don't listen to you?"

"I told you! Magic is your own, Ren-Ren. It comes naturally. So, dig it up. Use your imagination."

Renard tried to shut out the world around him, picturing the sole tree in his mind. A warm pull tugged at him and he followed. His magic, he tried not to dwell on the joy, but instead focusing on his practice. His magic reaching out. Because he reached out first.

The boy allowed the warmth to take control, guiding him through it. The tree now carved in his mind by detail wasn't enough. He needed action. But just imagining the leaves to fall wouldn't do. Renard couldn't say how exactly he knew it. He just did. Something more tender was needed. The half fae kid had to imply what he wants and trust his magic to follow his lead.

So Renard made himself cold. Chilly. Feeling a breeze of wind creeping inside his clothes, whipping his skin gently. Enough to rip a leaf off a tree, though. Which it did. The wind he summoned couldn't be felt, not really. Only by himself and the green leaves that departed one by one from their branch as if plucked by an invisible hand.

Oak gasped. Then grinned. And then he laughed. Renard broke free of his concentration, pleased to see his magic didn't falter. Not until every and each green leaf from his chosen tree didn't fall. The sight made him still in awe for a couple of seconds. But soon enough he joined his cousin with a bubble laugh, jumping up and down and running to tackle Oak in a tight hug.

"I did it, Oak! I did it!"

"Yes, you did, Rem-Ren. Indeed, you did. Congrats!"

"Can we show auntie Vivi? And auntie Oriana?"

When Madoc and Oriana first came in the mortal world, Taryn wanted nothing to do with them. But years of being cared for by the blue skinned, white haired, pink eyes woman showed their tale. She agreed to see her, but only her. She could be part of her child life, if she wanted.

"Sure. But don't you want to show your mom first?"

"Mom and auntie Heather work a lot. We can show them later." Renard said, but he felt his magic shrinking at the thought of his mother. His Mom didn't like his father. And his magic comes from his father. Is that why his magic doesn't want to reveal itself near Taryn? He hoped it was just him overthinking it, because he loves his Mom and wants to share this with her.

°•▪︎~▪︎•°

Oak stayed with auntie Oriana, who was his mother, so Renard couldn't bring himself to be upset over it. He would want to be with his mother as much as he can as well. So he did a little trick for auntie Vivi, who told him to stay where he was, brought a camera and ordered him to glamour the tea cups again. Renard made them look like pumpkins, since the Halloween being over the corner made him impossibly anxious - in a good way.

Turns out even mortal technology can be fooled by fae's magic. Vivi showed the clip to Heather, who coed over him until Taryn came home.

"Hello, treasure. How was your day? Wanna give mommy a kiss?"

Renard jumped into his mother's arms, pressing a strong kiss on her cheek before starting to tell her about all the fun he had with cousin Oak. "And then he said I should try magic too."

Tamryn stilled. "And?"

"Look, Mom!"

Renard broke a vase, then, with a twitch of his fingers put it back together. "Auntie Vivi says I'm a natural."

"Does she? That's amazing, sweetheart."

But his mother didn't sound thrilled. In fact, her smile wasn't even a smile at all, but a thin line. "I'm sorry, mommy. I knew I shouldn't've done it, but I didn't know why. Now I know: you don't want me using my magic. It'll make me bad, like father."

Renard pushed his lips up front, scrunched his nose up, wiggled his toes, all in an atempt to stop the tears hurting his eyes from falling. When he realized it was in vain, he took off running to his room.

When Taryn entered minutes later she found her son curled on his left side in the middle of the bed, hugging a black goat plushie his uncle Cardan gave him on his birthday tight to his chest. She hated herself for causing the pain struck look on her son's face.

"Hey, sweetie."

"Hi, Mom." Renard wiped his nose with his jumper's sleeve.

"I'm so sorry, sweetie. Mommy was just scared, but that's not your fault. You could never be bad. Magic is not bad. Of course you can practice all you want, but we'll settle some ground, basic rules first. Ok?"

"Really?"

"Rules you can never, ever break. Really."

"Thank you, Mommy! You're the best! Just wait until Oak hears about it."

A/N: Renard means fox in french. Also: oops, guess I finished it earlier than expected and didn't really felt like waiting days to post it 😅

[themadlostgirl]

When It’s Cold (5)

*I had different, spicier, plans for this chapter and then the characters took off with the plot and had fluff instead.*

~~~

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! FUCK!

I had been way louder than I meant to. My body was pleased with the after effects of masturbating but my mind was paying the price. I had been peacefully asleep until another naughty dream of Felix entered my subconscious. It was late so I figured he was asleep and I could get away with being a little loud if I got a tad overwhelmed but I had thrown caution to the wind right at the end when I screamed his name.

Hopefully he hadn’t heard but it did nothing to assuage my worries. I need to get a handle on these hormones. Maybe I would feel more in control if I got something. The store sold condoms. At the very least if it turns out that he does want to have sex one day I can be prepared. I set out early that morning before Felix woke up and grabbed a box of condoms as well as some feminine products. I had forgotten I even got a period until I came to Storybrooke and time started its toll on my body which meant my bloody, crampy, moody friend was back to wreak hell upon me.

Maybe that’s why I had been so horny lately. PMS can be a hell of a hormone tornado.

I got back to the house and was happily walking back to my room to drop off my purchase when I heard music coming from the kitchen. Damn. I didn’t think Felix would be awake yet. I tried to sneak past but he caught me halfway through.

“There you are,” Felix said, “I thought you were still in bed asleep. Where’d you go?”

“Quick run to the store,” I waved the plastic bag in my hand.

“I’m making eggs, do you want any?”

“Oh sure, I’m gonna go drop this stuff off in my room first.”

“Okay.” He shrugged, “Oh wait,” he gestured for me to come back.

“Yes?”

He pulled me in for a quick kiss. “Just wanted to do that.”

“Sap.” I tweaked his nose.

I raced up the stairs and dropped the condoms in the drawer of my bedside table and stuffed my feminine products under the bathroom sink. There. Now come period or play time I was ready!

I went back downstairs and sat down with Felix for breakfast. The snow outside had really piled up. On my trip into town I saw a lot of kids out in their lawns making snowmen. Felix and I have stayed cooped up inside this entire time. Maybe we should go have fun outside too. Our entire lives used to be spent outdoors before we came here after all.

I mentioned as much to Felix and he shrugged saying it sounded like fun. We got dressed in our winter attire and I raced out into the snow. “Felix, help me roll!”

“Roll what?” he asked.

“I’m trying to make a snowman. I’ll get started on the lower section, you get started on the middle.”

“Alright then,” Felix stooped down and started rolling a ball.

I got a pretty big base done and Felix came over with his slightly smaller ball to stack on top of it. Felix started rolling the head while I gathered some rocks and sticks to decorate it with. “Arm here, and here, rocks for eyes and a nice rocky smile and ta-da! Snowman! Isn’t he a handsome devil?”

“He’s a pile of snow and rocks, darling.”

“Well how about this,” I dug my finger into the face of the snowman and dragged it down. “There, now he looks like you.”

“You’re hilarious.” Felix rolled his eyes, “He’s a little too short to be me though.”

“Nope. He’s a perfect copy.”

“Well you know what this means.” Felix started backing up, “If there are two of me that means one of us has got to go.”

“Felix! Don’t you dare!” I yelled, “Don’t kill Felix Junior!

“There can only be one!” Felix ran and tackled the snowman breaking all our hard work in half. “I reign victorious!”

“You are a terror!” I grabbed a handful of snow and threw it at him. “I will avenge you Felix Junior!” The snowball hit him right in the head. He stood up and gawked at me.

“You really wanna have this fight, little girl?” He asked as he picked up the discarded head of Snowman Felix. “We’re gonna have this fight!”

“No!” I started running away as Felix raced after me. The severed head of our snowman held high above his own head. I felt the force of it hit me in the back and I went tumbling to the ground.

“Gotcha!” Felix was already forming another snowball.

“Oh no you don’t!” I quickly made another ball and hurled it nailing him in the face. “For Felix Junior!” I started making more snowballs as I got up and started pelting him.

I was laughing my head off as Felix and I dodged around one another throwing snowballs. I got too close once and he grabbed me shoving a clump of snow to my exposed neck! “No! No! Cold! Cold! Cold!”

I dropped to the ground and Felix fell with me. He was hovering over me, that wide smile that only I ever got to see, bright on his cold stung face. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss. Our battle lay forgotten as we sunk into it. His face was cold but his mouth was hot as he kissed me back.

“Truce?” He asked.

“For now.” I shivered, the cold and wet of the snow starting to get to me.

“Cold?” Felix smirked.

“A tad.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” He stood up and helped pull me to my feet. “Let’s get back to the house where I can keep you warm.”

“I like the sound of that.” I held close to his arm as we made our way back to the mansion. I changed into my comfiest and warmest clothes and heated up some hot chocolate for Felix and I. We sat down in the living room where Felix already had a fire going. A bunch of cushions and blankets littered the ground.

I sat down and cuddled up next to Felix. We sipped our hot chocolate while the fire crackled and music from the record player played softly in the background. Outside the snow fell in delicate flakes. It was a moment of pure bliss.

“Did you ever think we’d be like this?” I asked.

“Like what?”

“Cuddled together like we’re old lovers.” I smiled, “I certainly didn’t when I first met you.”

“A lot has changed since then though, hasn’t it?” He matched my smile and planted a kiss to the crown of my head.

“Yes, a lot has changed.” I sighed, “It almost makes me not want to go back to Neverland. I’m just so happy being here...with you.”

“You don’t want to return to Neverland?” Felix really looked at me now. “But it’s our home.”

“I’m not saying that I never want to go back to Neverland I’m just saying that I am really enjoying this time where it’s just the two of us. No other loud boys getting in the way. No hunting for food or sleeping on the hard ground. No bathing in a pond. It’s comfy here. Safe.”

“The privacy is nice,” He traced his thumb along my cheek, “I like having you all to myself.”

“Home can be anywhere we make it. Why not make it here?”

“Is that what you’d want?” Felix said, “To stay here and grow up? We’d become boring adults. The one thing we hate more than anything.”

“I don’t think either of us could be considered boring, adult or not.” I chuckled. “I don’t like the idea of growing old and dying but if you’re there along with me getting wrinkles and grey hairs then I fear it a little less.”

“That’s a big change. A big commitment. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. I don’t think anyone is ever ready to grow up. It just sorta happens. It’s the passage of time.”

“Does this mean you’re done looking for a way back to Neverland?”

“We’ve been searching for weeks. We’re going on two months and we have made no progress. Absolutely none. I think it has to do with the fact that we’re happy here. We’re not looking as hard as we should because we have a good thing going already. Tell me, Felix, if we found a way back to Neverland tomorrow, would you want to take it?”

“Would you be coming with me?”

“That’s not fair. You’re asking that cause you know I would come with you regardless. I am asking if you would stay here regardless of if I was here or not.”

“Wherever you go I go. I know that’s not the question but that’s my answer. You want to go back to Neverland we go back to Neverland. You want to stay here and grow up then I’ll be right by your side for that too. We’re in this together now.”

“Felix, I--” my brain tried desperately to catch up to my heart. What was I feeling? Was this love? I don’t remember the last time I felt love. I can’t even be sure that what I’m feeling right now counts but it is the closest to love I know I have ever felt. That didn’t mean I was ready to say it out loud though. “I am so glad that I have you.”

“I’m glad I have you too.” He kissed me slowly.

The rest of our day passed in a warm haze of dreamy sighs and feather soft kisses. We barely moved from our spot in front of the fireplace. Felix got up to heat up some leftovers for dinner and came to sit back down. The night was growing late and I felt myself nodding off. I didn’t want to return to my lonely bed though. I wanted to remain right here.

I rested my head on Felix’s shoulder and shut my eyes.

~~~

Felix hadn’t meant to fall asleep in the living room. But he didn’t have much choice after you fell asleep on him. He hadn’t the heart to wake you up. Not that he would have dared move from that spot in the first place. It was such a stark contrast to the hormonal hours of makeouts you and he had engaged in over the past several days. Today was all soft touches and meaningful words.

He was surprised when you said you wanted to stay in Storybrooke but what was more surprising was that he wanted to stay here with you too. Wherever you went he would follow. If that meant staying here and growing old then he was proud to do it.

He played with your hair as you slept. You had cuddled up right next to him and next thing he knew you were fast asleep. He gently reclined so he was laying down as well. You curled into him even more. Your head resting over his heart like a pillow.

What he wouldn’t give to go to sleep like this every night. Maybe he could. From the way you talked and how easily you fell asleep next to him maybe you wouldn’t mind sharing his bed. He didn’t even think about how else that could be misconstrued. Sex was an afterthought to the peace that was having you next to him. Your face relaxed and soft snores escaped past your lips.

“I adore you.” he whispered to you as you slept. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head and fell into a dreamless sleep with you in his arms.

---

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[nosebleedclub]

The Dark Suburb

((Posting again because the original post on June 11th, 2017 6:09pm is no longer available due to me deleting and re-making this blog.))

This is a compilation post of Nosebleed Club prompts from 2015-16 revolving around the concept of “the dark suburb.” 

Family Melodrama

something is wearing your mother

oh god his intestines strung up on the christmas tree

your dog’s body all over the house

banging on cellar doors

a creaking sound in your dead sister’s bedroom

warriors with spears and shields painted on the dining room ceiling of a violent family’s mansion

a woman in an expensive coat and an expensive car headed to her nephew’s funeral

coming home to a completely alien mother

getting a doberman on christmas morning that won’t let you leave the house

the reason your parents fled the city to live in the suburbs

summers in palermo where your father was looking for something

mother’s breakdown in the supermarket

the supernatural car you and your twin got for your 16th birthday

parents strangely and deeply interested in the boyfriend you brought home

a mom urging her son to quit basketball; she senses something is not right

all the holes - dozens of them - your mother dug in your backyard

grandparents hiding the reason your parents are away during your winter holiday break

your best friend doesn’t want to go to your house anymore

grandpa’s ghost followed us into the new house

dad hates her bc she killed her twin in the womb and then her mother

Do I Love You?

your boyfriend’s basketball shorts, his boy-aroma, his ghost between your legs when you watch the video of his last game

girls kissing in a gas station convenience store and a third recording them on snapchat

the boy you like drawing flowers on your ap biology practice test when you switch tests with him to grade

walking across a supermarket parking lot by yourself thinking of a boy you love

red mouth

girlfriend scrubbing the blood off her arms in the bathtub

in a tiny white house in florida, sitting on a beer-can-covered counter, legs spread apart, a boy between them

in a drug-induced haze i left home for his semi truck

he never fucked me without his ski mask on

a girl and a girl and claw marks on the door“don’t ever take me back”

The Occult

the incantation that annihilated a whole suburb

a body that drags other bodies into an oven

the witches gathering in the red lake

inhuman sacrifice

dogs gathered at the edge of town refusing to cross the boundary to the outside

a 10 year old girl with memories of a serial killing spree that occurred when her parents were children

white shirts hanging on branches all over the woods

the town of three-eyed children

arrows raining down on a soccer field

feeding time

mysterious scratch marks on your back

a fairy ring in the field where your sister disappeared

Crimes

just throw it in the back

snap!

we found the body but not the head

clearing in the forest where police found a blessed severed head

jar of baby teeth as evidence

children dressed as angels at the crime scene

seeing a face you thought you buried ten years ago at the supermarket

half a fraternity frozen under a lake

fbi agents rolling into a tiny town in appalachia

a severed arm among the hydrangeas

young men howling on the bridge one year after the murder

police cars prowling through your neighborhood, one after another - watching this from your bedroom window

Teen Dream

getting whipped by a towel in the locker room

best friend making the varsity tennis team

taking a shot of vodka in the bathroom after second period

boy gets a boner during gym class

“i’ll be like helicase i’ll unzip them genes (jeans)”

drunkenly reciting the quadratic equation

fear-mongering homecoming queen

track star died in a car accident

dead bodies photography club

“sorry i fucked up here’s some ice cream” “i’m lactose intolerant you douche”

article about demonic possession in the school newspaper

last pool party before summer ends & her hand on your thigh in your dad’s sports car

the first day back from summer vacation & someone in your friend group brings the whole #squad starbucks

a bonfire, lana del rey & drake blasting, the moon

weekend road trips to the ocean

walking around on the track alone, contemplating some philosophical concept you read about on tumblr the night before

coming out to someone completely random - a junior varsity basketball player

the last homecoming dance

lying on the track at your high school after sunset

getting picked up really early in the morning to go on a spontaneous weekend road trip

the sunday after the homecoming dance where you’re kinda tired kinda still energetic from the night before

inside a fast food restaurant drinking milkshakes eating fries until it closes

chill basement party where there’s white balloons gold confetti / glitter two girls who love each other kissing

sitting in the backseat your parents occupying the front of the car you look out the window you see the rural countryside crawl by

pool pizza party at night simple pleasures like that

on the bleachers during a powderpuff football game

sweating so much you might as well have been swimming it would be embarrassing but all the other boys are sweaty too

lost in the suburbs at like 5am and the world is still pale blue

lost in the city at 5pm the sun sinks its head behind skyscrapers

fights on the lawn of an all boys private school

applying makeup the morning after a breakup

huge friend group made up of oracles + boys’ swim team + legendary heroes + valedictorian

aesthetic blogging on a sunday afternoon just chillin in your bedroom

feeling like you could be something big if you work hard enough at it

getting psychoanalyzed by your teachers and parents and extended family

school bathroom pale blue tiles

a dream with damien hirst-esque elements

sleepover at your friend’s villa and you’re the only one awake

looking out at a black sea from your dead cousin’s bedroom window, seeing a light in the distance

funeral mass

chill that runs down your friends’ spines when you enter the classroom the morning after they tried to kill you

the sickness that spreads through the high school

sometimes i was a body in a dump sometimes i was a saint

he said he’d snapchat my burning body to all his friends

my body was evidence she was trying to get rid of

poison disguised as an eighteen year old

a world war between us

$$$

first: “super rich kids” by frank ocean

fast cars flecked with blood

girls who know you won’t be prosecuted if you’re young and rich and pretty enough

snapchat of a boy with red eyes and a glass of dom perignon with the text IS MY LIFE FUCKING REAL

snapchat of a girl’s dad’s black amex with the words MONEY CAN’T BUY HAPPINESS BUT IT GETS CLOSE

taking your middle-class friends out to nice restaurants but knowing they’re with you mainly for the money

“dude i know you’re only a year older than me but sometimes i think of you as my sugar daddy”

traveling to punta del este to find yourself but losing yourself instead

identifying heavily with the versace logo

an imperial bedroom and all one feels is the weight of all that empty space

“even my funeral has to be luxurious”

Hometown Visions

three dead owls on the side of the road

trees bare, houses barren

lanterns lit up on the dirt road at night

moths in a forgotten shed

a dusty old attic filled with dead rats and flies

seeing half your face in a splintered mirror. washing machine making dangerous sounds

midwest: watching a tornado funnel form from a window that won’t shut all the way

grass in the yard growing tall

girls carrying stray cats home

a cellar door swinging open and a man you never wanted to see ever again stepping through it, into the light

snake skins and insect carapaces organized on a torn mattress

a lovely place god abandoned

bat-filled house at the end of the street

a girl crawling out of a burning car

birds in jars

Hide & Seek

not being able to find anyone in a dark forest because they actually left you and it was just a cruel prank

person seeking you is something much worse than what you thought they were

being trapped in your hiding space & no one can find you no matter how loud you call for help

hiding in your friend’s house and finding evidence of a vile crime their parents committed

finding half of your friend

[womenstan]

Heaven In Hiding - Nooreva

https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058616

Two friends, a mind-blowing kiss and a misunderstanding.

red colored lips and narrow hips

angel dusted hair and skin so fair

take my hand and make me blush

seal my lips and let me touch

Parties were fun. Objectively, Eva knew that. There was booze, music and available mouths to latch onto. So, yes, usually parties were fun. Except this one wasn’t.

See, since Jonas, Eva had never been able to find a stable relationship. That was fine back in high school, when most parties consisted of random people hooking up in bathrooms and throwing up in bushes. But now, Eva was a little older and, most importantly, the only single one in her friend group. Isak had Even, Chris was inexplicably still with Kasper and Vilde… well Vilde was probably holed up in a corner of the living room meowing at Magnus. Sana and Yousef were the only ones who weren’t constantly busy eating each other’s faces and, thus, could have an actual conversation with Eva. However, they had decided to spend the winter break visiting Yousef’s family in Morocco, leaving Eva on her own in a sea of unbearable couples. Even fucking Jonas had managed to find a girlfriend to bring to the party (granted, at least those two weren’t all over each other yet , but it wasn’t like Eva could interpose herself between Jonas and his new conquest without things getting a little awkward).

So, while everyone was cheerfully decorating christmas ornaments, dancing on the make-shift dance floor or making out on Isak and Even’s worn-out couch, Eva was alone in the kitchen, gulfing down little pâtés and drinking her third… no fourth… glass of wine. To be fair, she didn’t even want to come in the first place! But Vilde had guilt-tripped her into coming by saying that Isak would be disappointed if she didn’t show - which, bullshit, as Isak seemed much more preoccupied with reaching the depths of his boyfriend’s throat than with Eva’s presence. It’s not like Eva wasn’t happy for all of them, of course she was, they were her friends! So, yes, she was glad that they were all getting some on the regular, but she did feel alone from time to time. Like tonight.

If only Noora was here…

No. Nope. Bad idea. Eva was not going to go down memory lane right now. There’s no way she was even gonna let her brain try to remember that kiss. Fuck. Here we go.

Truth was, Eva was never good at dealing with her problems and her emotions. Her motto was ‘ignore it and when you can’t anymore, drink it away’. Usually, that worked quite well, as her intoxicated brain tended to be more horny than anything else. But this one particular memory seemed to always find a way to sneak its way up to the front of her thoughts, especially on nights like this where she was feeling particularly lonely. The memory in and of itself wasn’t a bad one, god no. It was probably her fondest memory to date. No, the problem wasn’t the memory, it was what happened after the memory.

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

See, at the end of her first year at Nissen, Eva had gone to a party at William’s house with all of her friends. Eva didn’t like William very much, but if there was one quality that man possessed, it was knowing how to throw a good fucking party. The music was great, the view from his rooftop was incredible and, most importantly, the supply of alcohol was never-ending. So, of course, to honour the gods of wine, Eva decided to steal a bottle for herself. At first, she was planning to drink it slowly as the night went on and, thus, avoid having to go back to the table for refills. Brilliant, of course. What Eva had not planned for was to immediately spot Jonas making out with Sara in the middle of the rooftop, the sun shining directly on them, as if to taunt her. It wasn’t even necessarily that Eva wasn’t over Jonas : she still loved him dearly, but she had grieved their relationship by this point. No, it was more that Eva felt lonely and undesired. The one combo that always leads to her making mistakes. It took Eva a total of fifteen seconds for her brain to compute that this was, in fact, Jonas kissing down Sara’s throat and not an eerily similar (and equally eager) doppelgänger. Then, she was back inside in a matter of milliseconds.

She sat down in the relative darkness under the stairs that led to the rooftop, gulping down her bottle of wine faster than Dionysus ever could. She sighed, closing her eyes and letting her head fall backwards on the ramp. The position wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it was bearable, which Eva felt reflected well her internal feelings. So, she stayed seated there, drinking from her wine bottle, alone and lonely.

And that’s exactly how Noora found her some time later, her bottle now almost emptied, her eyelids heavy under the added weight of the alcohol circulating through her body. Noora, beautiful, kind, considerate, Noora, squatted down to Eva’s level slowly, a careful look on her face, as if she was approaching a wild animal. To be fair, that’s probably what Eva looked like right now, curled in on herself, holding the bottle of wine like a lifeline.

‘Er du ok?’ Noora asked, trying to meet Eva’s eyes with her own.

Slowly, Eva raised her head, looking at Noora for a grand total of one second before bursting into tears. Noora let out a soft sigh and crouched down next to Eva, bringing her arm up around her and squeezing Eva into her side thightly.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’, Noora whispered near Eva’s ear. Eva tried to answer and, instead, let out a pathetic whimper, which only made Noora bring up her other arm around Eva’s sobbing form. Their position was far from ideal, but Noora didn’t seem to mind as she held Eva through her crying fit and Eva certainly didn’t mind, burying her head in Noora’s neck and inhaling her soft lavender perfume. Eva’s sobs slowly turned into quiet tears, the only sound interrupting the silence hanging in the air being Eva’s slight sniffles as she tried to compose herself. Once she felt like she could actually utter a word without tears flowing down her cheeks, Eva began to reluctantly move out of Noora’s comforting embrace. Noora let her go slowly, kissing her head tenderly before wiping away the mascara that had run down Eva’s face with the pad of her thumbs. Eva was a bit embarrassed, but as she held Noora’s gaze, searching for a hint of annoyance, all she found was tenderness, love and maybe a little bit of worry.

Shakily, Eva let out a ‘Ja, I’m okay’, her voice barely a whisper, but Noora heard it anyway. The corners of her mouth pulled up into a soft smile and she nodded slowly, her eyes set on Eva’s.

‘I’m sorry for…’ Eva began, gesturing around, ‘this. I was just tired of being lonely and unworthy of love and I guess my feelings chose this moment to come out’.

Noora’s smile faltered a bit and Eva felt worry constrict her heart. Had she said too much? Maybe Noora had finally gotten tired of all of Eva’s whining and complaining? Eva lowered her head in shame, telling herself off mentally.

‘Eva. Eva, look at me,’ said Noora, lifting Eva’s chin softly with her index. Noora waited until Eva found the strength to look back into her eyes, before she went on, ‘You’re the best person I know. You’re a caring, smart, funny person who’s worthy of all the love there is in this world. If someone thinks otherwise, then they’re wrong, because I know anyone would be lucky to have the privilege to love you.’

By the end of Noora’s short speech, tears were back in Eva’s eyes. But those weren’t tears of sadness, even though Eva didn’t quite know what emotions she was feeling. Her heart was beating so fast that she thought it would fly out of her chest, her head was spinning slightly (although that could simply be the wine) and she felt hoards of butterflies spreading their wings in the pit of her stomach. Inadvertently, Eva’s gaze dropped to Noora’s perfectly reddened lips. Her lips that looked so soft, so inviting in this dim lighting. Her lips, whose mere view ignited a fire within Eva’s body and a true tornado inside her mind. When Eva raised her eyes back up to Noora’s, the intensity she could read in them led her to believe that Noora’s body might be sending her similar signals. For a moment, they just looked into each other’s eyes, but it wasn’t tender anymore. The tension between them was palpable and Eva felt her own head slowly gravitate towards Noora’s, as if an invisible string was bringing them together. Noora’s head seemed to follow the same path, as they both made their way towards each other, never breaking eye contact. Once their lips were mere millimeters away, Eva moved her head back slightly to be able to gaze into Noora’s eyes properly.

‘Anyone?’, she asked, her voice barely audible as every muscle in her body had seemingly turned to liquid in Noora’s proximity.

Noora’s eyes seemed to search for something in Eva’s own for a moment, but they found what they were looking for fast enough and Noora whispered back ‘Anyone’.

It was like that one word set something off in Eva’s brain, because next thing she knew, she was closing off the last bit of space between their lips.

Eva had been kissed before, enough that she actually considered herself experienced in the matter. Kissing was fun, very fun even, but it was nothing compared to what Eva was experiencing right now.

As soon as their lips collided, it felt like her brain imploded. Every bit of her body was on fire and the only thought going through her head was ‘More. More. More.’ What began as a chaste kiss quickly turned into more, both of them unable to satiate their own bodies. Noora raised her left hand, caressing Eva’s face as she licked into her mouth, deepening the kiss. Fireworks were going off behind Eva’s eyelids and it felt as if time had stopped. Eva twisted her hands in Noora’s hair, trying to get impossibly closer, melting into her arms. Noora followed suit, letting her right hand toy with the hair on Eva’s neck. At that sensation, Eva let out a whimper she was automatically ashamed of, but the shame rapidly turned into pride as she felt Noora smile slightly into her mouth. Eva let her hands wander down Noora’s body, before settling on her hip, just under her black blouse. Noora slowly started to lower herself down, bringing Eva along, when the door to the rooftop burst open. The two girls jumped apart, frightened. William and Chris stumbled down the stairs, teasing each other loudly, before coming to an abrupt halt once they noticed the two girls holed up under the stairs.

‘What are you girls doing down there?’ William asked, looking more confused than anything else.

Noora’s gaze was burning into the side of Eva’s head, but Eva refused to meet her eyes. She knew what was coming. Noora had let herself go for a minute, but she was probably already regretting it. Who would choose messy, unstable, untrustworthy Eva over perfect, steady, beloved William? Eva knew it, she even understood it, but she still had enough pride to try to avoid direct rejection at all cost.

‘Oh, girl problems, you know’ Eva tried to joke, letting out a small laugh that almost sounded like a sob. William and Chris exchanged a look, before seemingly deciding it wasn’t worth further questioning.

‘Ok… Well Noora, do you wanna come up?’, William asked, ‘I’ve got a slow dance lined up that has your name on it’, he added before winking.

Noora’s eyes still didn’t move from Eva as she said, hesitantly, ‘I’m not sure William… We were kind of in the middle of something…’ Fearing that Noora would want to talk about it , Eva quickly got up, dusting off her pants and quickly mumbling an excuse about her mother coming home unexpectedly before practically running out of the front door. The last thing she heard was a disbelieving laugh and a ‘What the hell?’ coming from Chris, but she was fast down the street before anyone could think of going after her, tears streaming down her face, her shattered heart left on William’s immaculate penthouse floor.

The couple next days were a blur of hangovers, tears and troubled dreams. A week later, Eva’s mom came home and she decided Eva had moped enough. She sat on her bed, sighing as she saw the continuous stream of tears that had established a permanent residence on Eva’s cheeks. She bent down slightly and caressed Eva’s hair tenderly, which only resulted in making her cry even more.

‘Love, what happened?’, her mother asked, her tone serious and worried.

Eva simply buried her face deeper into her pillow, shaking her head.

‘Whatever it is, Eva, hiding alone in your room won’t solve it’, her mom said.

Eva sighed and spoke into her pillow. ‘Well maybe I won’t solve it, but at least I can avoid it’.

Her mom’s caresses came to a halt and she hoisted Eva up into a sitting position, despite the girl’s protests. Once Eva was sitting up, crossed-legged, her mom brushed away the dirty strands of hair that were falling in her face and firmly gripped her face with both hands.

‘Eva, listen to me for once. Avoiding your problems is not a solution. Avoiding your problems only lets them grow and grow and grow, until you inevitably have to confront them. It’s better to face a small stone than to climb a mountain.’ Eva let out a small laugh at that metaphor, ‘Go face your pebble Eva, before its weight becomes too much for you to bear.’ Eva’s mom smiles at her softly and Eva can’t help herself but smile back.

‘You know mom, sometimes, you actually have good advice,’ Eva teased her mom, now fully grinning.

Her mom raised her hand to her chest in faux offense shouting ‘How DARE you insult your mother like that, huh? How dare you?’, before starting to tickle Eva, sending the both of them into a fit of laughter.

Maybe her mom was right, maybe if Eva faced Noora right now, things could still be fixed between them.

The next day, Eva showed up to the Kollektivet with a bag full of their favourite snacks and a new hope blossoming in her chest. She knocked on the door and wasn’t at all surprised when an overjoyed Eskild opened the door for her.

‘Hi! Hi! Come in, come in! To what do I owe this pleasure?’ Eskild inquired, a bright grin on his face.

Eva’s grin was probably just as big as she answered, ‘Oh, I’m coming to see Noora!’

However, her grin fell rapidly once she saw Eskild’s expression turn into one of slight discomfort.

‘Ehrm… How do I say this… I really thought she would have told you… Especially you…’ Eskild went on as he started to nervously move around the kitchen.

Eva felt panic rise in her chest as she imagined the worst scenarios. ‘Eskild! ESKILD!’, Eva shouted, finally getting Eskild to stop pacing around anxiously, ‘Just tell me.’

Eskild schooled his face and put a comforting hand on Eva’s shoulder. In his eyes, all Eva could see was pity. ‘She… ehrm… Noora left for London last night, Eva’

Eva felt as if her brain had short-circuited. Maybe she had misheard? What on Earth would Noora be doing in London anyway? ‘In London? Why would she go to London? Are you sure?’, Eva asked, her voice betraying her growing worry.

Eskild just looked at her for a moment and it clicked in Eva’s mind. ‘William’, she said. It wasn’t a question, but Eskild still had the decency to nod.

‘Do you…’, Eskild started, ‘Do you want some tea? Biscuits?’, he rummaged around in the cupboards before turning back around and adding, ‘We don’t actually have biscuits. Or tea. I can get you water?’

Eva quickly declined and made her exit. As she walked to the bus stop, she was expecting more tears. She was expecting to feel betrayed, sad, angered even. But she just felt empty, numb, lonely. Just so fucking lonely.

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

Now, here she was, over two years later and absolutely no sign of life from Noora. Eva had tried to feel bitter at her, to hate her, but she never could. Whatever she had felt in the seconds they had kissed had forever sealed Noora into her heart. Now, every other hookup felt too boring, too unappealing. Hence why she was here, at this party, alone. It didn’t even matter that she didn’t have a guy to fool around with, because no matter if she was truly alone or not, Eva constantly felt lonely. A loneliness that had set camp in the Noora shaped hole in her chest.

Noora’s sudden disappearance from Eva’s life had made such an impact that, sometimes, Eva would find herself hearing her voice as clear as day, then turning around with excitement only to realize she had been mistaken.

Like right now, for example, as Eva could swear she clearly hears Noora’s voice coming from the living room. Except Noora is in London with her boyfriend and definitely not at this christmas party.

‘Hi! Or should I say… H?’ a sudden voice speaks from behind Eva.

Eva is so startled that, as she turns around, she lets her wine cup slip out of her hand and onto the floor (good thing Isak and Even’s cups are all made of plastic, huh), spilling red coloured liquid all over the floor. Eva’s dress and her shoes get stained, but Eva couldn’t care less.

She couldn’t care less, because standing in front of her, in the flesh, is none other than Noora. Noora and her eternal bright red lipstick, smiling shyly at her. Eva is so stunned that she simply freezes and stares at Noora, her mouth slightly agape and her brain working overtime to try and compute the situation.

Noora doesn’t push, simply staring at Eva and fiddling anxiously with strands of her hair.

When, finally, Eva realizes that Noora is really standing in front of her and that this isn’t another one of those pesky dreams, she feels all of the emotions she had suppressed for the past two years flood back to the surface. She lets out a watery ‘Noora?’ as tears pile up in her eyes. Noora’s smile drops slightly as her eyes, still so kind and so affectionate, take in Eva’s state.

‘Can we talk? Privately?’ Noora asks carefully, testing the waters.

Eva doesn’t even have time to mull over the question before her mouth lets out a ‘Of course’ and before she knows it, she’s leading Noora down the hallway and into the bedroom. Once they’re both in, Eva closes the door behind them and slowly turns to face Noora.

She’s sitting on the bed, her legs crossed, looking down at her hands laying in her lap. Eva is simply standing by the door, entirely unsure of what to do in this situation. The longer she just stands there, the more the awkwardness between them grows and at one point, Eva can’t take it. She marches rapidly to the bed and sits down unceremoniously. There’s another long moment of silence between them, as neither seems to know where to go from there. Eva sighs loudly and starts ‘Look, I don’t know why you think you can just disappear for two fucking years without giving me news and then come back as if-’

Her speech is interrupted by Noora’s lips crashing into hers with full force, which does hurt a little bit, but the pain is rapidly overcome by pleasure. This time, it’s anything but slow and soft. Two years of pent up feelings from both sides are released into one moment, leading the kiss to rapidly turn passionate. Noora doesn’t waste any time before slipping her tongue in Eva’s mouth, guiding her to lay down on the bed at the same time. Eva’s hands are roaming Noora’s body under her shirt as she obeys Noora’s silent command and lays back. Eva brings her hands to the front and tries to unbutton Noora’s blouse, unsuccessfully, instead ending up getting stuck in Noora’s hair. Noora yelps slightly from the pain and they break apart for a moment, giggling.

Noora stops her movement on top of Eva and softly caresses her cheek, gazing into her eyes. There, Eva can see nothing has changed from the last time they saw each other. Noora’s eyes are filled with love, tenderness and care. Eva is pretty sure her own eyes reflect the exact same emotions. But in hers, there’s also worry, and she can’t restrain herself from asking the question that’s been swirling around in her brain since she saw Noora again.

‘What about William?’ Eva whispers. Noora looks lovingly into her eyes and slowly traces the outline of her face, down to her jaw. She bends down slightly and brushes her nose with Eva’s fondly. Eva can feel her eyelids drooping just from those little attentions.

‘Fuck William. We’re over.’ Noora answers back in the same hushed voice.

‘Over, over?’ Eva questions back, her tone growing hopeful.

Noora kisses Eva chastely, barely brushing their lips together.

‘Over, over. When I was in London, I felt like a piece of me was missing. I kept trying to fill it with material, friends or even time with William, but nothing worked. I just felt empty,’ Noora begins.

Eva nods along, ‘Yeah, me too. Just hollow.’

Noora smiles sadly, ‘Yeah. About a year in, William and I broke up because I learned that he cheated on me.’ At that, Eva perks up, getting ready to insult him, but Noora puts her index on her lips and brings her back down, effectively shushing her. ‘It’s okay. He’s in the past. But after that, I went to see a therapist to try and figure out why I was feeling this way. To try and be happy again’. As Noora continues to speak, Eva strokes her hair in encouragement. ‘And I slowly came to the realization that… I was in love with you. I am in love with you. And that nothing and no one could fill that emptiness, except you. If you still want me.’ By the end of her sentence, both girls had tears streaming down their faces.

‘Of course I still want you’, Eva assured her. ‘You’re it for me too, you know?’

For a moment, they just stared at each other, smiling goofily. Then, slowly, Noora closed off the distance between their bodies, and their lips. This time, it was much softer. Eva could taste strawberry lipstick and a bit of salty tears on Noora’s lips as they kissed lazily on the bed. They kept kissing as they undressed each other, stubbornly refusing to separate their lips even for one second, despite the added challenge. Eva removed Noora’s bra delicately and as she raised her hand towards her body, the door opened and a shout came from its direction, halting their movements.

‘Oh God No! My eyes!’ Isak screamed, turning around faster than humanly possible. ‘Please tell me you’re not fucking in my bed’ he added, pleadingly. From further down the apartment, a ‘OUR BED!’ came, to which Isak only groaned.

The girls bursted into laughter, Noora falling completely over Eva, incapable of supporting her body through their fit. ‘Oops?’ Eva said coyly, before laughing again. Isak muttered a ‘whatever’ before getting out and closing the door behind him.

Once they were finally able to calm down, the girls decided it might be best for everyone if they continued this Christmas celebration at Eva’s place. They quickly gathered their clothes and left the apartment under cheers from their friends who seemed to find a lot of enjoyment in the girls’ reunion.

That night, Eva and Noora, like young teenagers, fooled around, talked until the early morning hours and fell asleep in each other’s arms. The next morning (and every morning since) they woke up still embracing each other, content, full and, especially, no longer lonely .Two friends, a mind-blowing kiss and a misunderstanding.

[notagamersdey]

The Dream

Painting by: Henri Rousseau

Photo (2021) and Story By Tyler D. Ortiz

Rating: T

Word Count: 2k~

Warnings: bad language, panic attacks

A/N: So this story is inspired by the Pedro Pascal episode of the podcast Talk Art (31:14-34:15). Go check that out if you want to hear some fun stories by the hosts and pp.

Summary: Matias, after losing his chance to act in a popular TV show, is taken to the Museum of Modern Art by his sister where he realizes he has nothing to lose.

~~~

Today, I’m supposed to meet my sister Lyanna here at East Village Pizza. She said it was a special treat for getting my first “big” role on Law & Order. When I told her the news, she had jumped up for joy, squealing my ear off. It wasn’t a big deal, just another job for the bills, but she was adamant that this job was a life changer. She’s says that about every job.

I came to the pizza parlor early, grabbing my favorite seat in front of the window. We normally sat here when we came because it gave us the perfect view of cold, angry New Yorkers. I had ordered our pizza, waiting for her to arrive when my phone starts to buzz.

I open it up and put it against my ear, holding it with my shoulder, “This is Matias.”

“Matias, I'm sorry to tell you…” Fuck, “…but we’ve decided to go in a different direction...” It’s the fucking casting director, droning on, saying those same fucking words, “You have wonderful talent.,” “You didn’t fit the director's vision.,” etcetera. Etcetera. ETCETERA. It's all movie-talk for “You weren't good enough.”

Grabbing the scruff behind my neck, I slammed my phone shut and stuffing it into my jacket pocket. What the hell was I going to do now? Three hundred bucks – gone in an instant.

“Here’s your order, Sir,” A waiter places the small pizza in front of me, and you know, today was one of the rare days I was able to scrounge enough money to afford the luxury of a decent slice of pizza, and now I can’t even enjoy it.

“God dammit,” It’s moments like these when memories of my father came hit me like a freight train. He used to berate me about goals and aspirations, telling me, “It’s never going to happen, Matias,” and “It’s not a job. You won’t get anywhere with that.” In high school, I used to constantly fight with him, telling him my dreams were achievable. That I would succeed as an actor. He would laugh in my face; tell me they were unobtainable. I mean... Maybe he was right.

Now, I’m living in one of the most expensive cities with over 300,000 dollars in debt, 40 bucks to my name, and a dead-beat waiter job at Planet Hollywood that barely pays for food let alone the bills. I have no back-up plan, no emergency fund. I just had my bachelor's degree in acting, which won't pay for shit.

I shake my head. My neck and back start to ache, an oncoming migraine sitting on my temples.

Matias, the fuck do you want to do that for?

Matias, you’re not good enough.

Matias, you will always be alone.

I stand to leave, throwing the untouched pizza in the trash on my way out the door. The cold winter air bites at my nose when I step outside. I pull my scarf up closer to my neck and make my way down East 9th Street.

Leaving the restaurant doesn’t help. Hopelessness rushes over me like a tsunami. The texture of the wool sweater underneath my jacket scratched annoyingly at the exposed skin on my wrists. It’s a cold wintery day but I feel incredibly hot underneath the layers. A nervous sweat builds underneath my beanie. Everyone’s staring, I know it. They know I've failed yet again. They know I’m just a naïve child.

His voice repeats in my head like a tornado siren, yelling, screaming at me, “You will not survive.”

You will not make an income.

You will not have healthcare.

You are setting yourself up for failure.

…You will die- My phone starts to buzz again. I really want to fucking ignore it but if it’s Lyanna, she’d have every cop in the city on my ass within the hour.

“Hey.” I cough, trying to clear my throat. Act normal.

“Mat! I’m sorry I’m late, I’m-” She sounds like she’s running.

“Actually, Sis, I left…” I stop in the middle of the pavement, getting shoved and cursed at by the impetuous crowd around me.

“What? Why?” Her concerned voice seeps through the phone. Suddenly, heat shoots up my back. She’s going to be upset.

I move off to the side, leaning up against a wall of graffiti, “I didn’t get the job after all.”

I hear her let out a breath, “Different direction?” She asks, knowingly.

I nod, “Yea... said I could act the part, but I didn’t fit the type of Latino they were going for... whatever the hell that means.” I spit out, bitterly.

“Means they’re bigoted.” I can hear the annoyed twinge in her voice.

“Yea... probably...” Lyanna stays quiet. “Hey... So, I’m not really up for doing anything... Can we just go home?”

“Umm...” She hums, clicking her tongue, “No.”

“Lyanna...” Please.

“No, no, I’m serious, I know you. Once you get home you're going to sulk in your room for days. Let's bypass the self-pity and go have fun. Take your mind off it.”

I’m silent for a moment, feeling my anxiety subside as I focus on her words, “What do I get if your wrong?”

“A fresh slice of cheese pizza to replace the one you probably threw away...” She laughs, “Now, how ‘bout MoMA?”

“Sure… MoMA sounds good.”

I’ve always found it difficult to find the Museum of Modern Art. The only way anyone would be able to tell where this museum was is with the three bright red banners hanging off the side of the building holding their acronym in an even darker shade of red. This was basically every building in New York so, of course, I pass right by it. Lyanna managed to catch me before I got too far. She runs up to me and immediately linked her arm into mine.

“Hey stranger, took you long enough.” She greats, warmly.

“You know how it is.”

“Oh common, where’s that smile? We are celebrating!” She starts to pull me into the museum, warm air painting my face when she opens one of the doors.

“Celebrating a failure.”

“Celebrating life.”

We walk in and are bombarded with hordes of people packed in front of every corner of the room. It's as if every single person visiting New York had decided that they would all collectively visit the museum on this specific day. Maybe they were having an event. People of all shapes and sizes were packed in front of each art piece, creating a thick barrier preventing outsiders from looking in on their beauty. In the corner of the room is a balloon man handing out replicas of Jeff Koon’s Balloon Dog to children. I clench my teeth at the disgusting sound of rubber and latex rubbing together. I feel a hot prickling in my neck at the sight of a child squeezing the neck of their bright metallic green Balloon Dog, another child on the edge of crying as she violently hit her blue Balloon Dog onto her stroller seat.

Someone bumps into me. I feel myself tense up. Don’t touch me. I take my arms away from Lyanna, hiding them in my pockets. Lyanna looks up at me, “Hey, are you okay?”

Fuck no,“Yes.”

“You sure? You seem tense,” she raises her eyebrow.

“No. No... I'm good... There’s just.” Act normal, “A lot of people.”

“Well, if you’re sure...” Everyone is breathing my air - of course I’m not sure. “You wanna start off this way then make our way around?” she asks pointing to her left. I nod.

She guides me to the fifth floor, to our first painting. Shes pushing through the crowds so we could get a closer look. It’s a dark painting with a black, shadowy silhouette of an elephant trudging on an upwards incline. The air around him grey, as if he was pushing through a sandstorm. He is struggling to get to wherever he was headed. I’m suddenly pushed closer to the struggling elephant. Lyanna snaps at someone behind me. A balloon pop’s. A child's scream echo around the room. The dark clouds surrounding the elephant fill my edge of my vision as my eyes zoom into the lonely elephant. My throat begins to close. My heart hurts. A voice in my head whispers “You’re dying. You’re dying.” in a joyous chant. I try to breathe but nothing can get through. My hands prickle. My chest stutters. The elephant fades. Only the shadowing and silhouettes of people fill my vision. I still feel the pain in my throat, as I try to breath in air.

Lyanna speaks but her voice is muffled. The darkness that had overtaken my vision slowly fades away. I sit up straight, feeling the soft leather beneath me, becoming aware of my surroundings. We are in different exhibit. It's completely empty. I shift, feeling the leather bench beneath my finger tips. The silence is soothing.

“You feeling better?” Lyanna sits next to me with a cup of water in her hands, causing the leather beneath creaked.

I close my eyes. God. She grabs at my hand but I pull away. Please go away. I can feel her eyes burning into my soul. It’s unbearable. I turn away from her. Please go away. She grips at the cup tightly. The crunch of the cup is excruciating.

“Matias.” She attempts to grab my hand again. I see it coming from a mile away. Like in slow motion. The closer she got, the more I dreaded the contact.

“Fuck! Stop! Can you please just give me a God damn minute?” I stand up trying to get away.

“What is happening?” She’s mad. You’ve ruined everything.

“I don’t want to be fucking touched, Lyanna. Just stop. Stop everything. Leave me alone.” I’m staring at the floor. If I look at her, I’m going to lose it. Shameful. Embarrassing.

“I’m only trying to help.” You’re an embarrassment.

“You’re not!” She’s going to never going to forgive you.

“Okay…” She stands slowly, “Let’s relax for a moment… I’ll be back in a few minutes… Just text me if you need anything.” I don’t say anything while she walks away, the sound of her shoes fading. I sit back down onto the chair, head in my hands.

I take a few deep breaths, focusing on the ground beneath me. The floor is smooth, my hair is soft and messy, the pressure of my elbows on my knees grow. My eyes leave the floor only to be met with a flood of green. A naked woman waking up on a large red couch in the middle of a jungle. Light green paints the leaves towards the bottom of the canvas and becomes darker going up towards the sky. The bright flowers burst up in different directions as the moon peaks through the canopy. The woman is surrounded by hidden animals. I spot a few hidden tigers, a white bird on the top left, a person hidden in the shadows playing an instrument, a few monkeys in the trees and an elephant beyond the trees staring back at me. It was a paradise. So sure of herself, she sits there facing away from me as if she has nothing to lose. She sits unafraid of the world around her.

I can’t relate. I’ll never get my chance. I’ll never not be afraid. I continue to stare at her, trying to understand what she may have done differently. Maybe she kept going. Maybe she stopped caring. Or maybe someone gave her a chance. Whatever she did must’ve worked because she continues to sit as if she has nothing left to lose –

“Henri Rousseau’s The Dream,” I jump. Lyanna stands on my right, staring at the painting with a hand on her hip, “Most people hate this painting.”

“I don’t see why…”

“Eh… Everybody has their own opinions…” She approaches cautiously, “Do you feel any better?”

I nod. “S-sorry,” I look back to the painting, “I just needed a moment to myself.”

“Don’t apologize… I should’ve… I don’t know, been more mindful, I guess.” She sits down next to me. I can see her hesitate before she puts a hand on my shoulder, “Are you going to be okay?”

I don’t answer at first. I look back at the painting. The Dream she called it. Maybe, this was the woman’s dream. Maybe she is like me. Our chances will arise. She strives towards her peace with nature around her as I strive for success in the asphalt jungle. Just as she has nothing left to lose, I, too, have nothing to lose. We are the same.

“Yea… I think I will be.”

~~~

Thank you so much for reading! Let me know what you think! Let me know if I missed a tag or a warning.

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Till Next Time!

-Dey

[ficsilike-reblogged]

Sunshine City: Three

A/N: Thank you to everyone who read/reblogged/commented on the last chapter. You are all lovely and deserve a Whiskey of your own. This chapter still revolves around the plot of the film, so if you have any questions just let me know! I hope this little story can make you smile at least for a moment. My asks and DMs are always open.

Pairing: (Eventual) Agent Whiskey x F!Reader (No Y/N)

Word Count: 5.7k

Rating For This Chapter: T for guns, blood, injuries

Catch up on the Prologue, Chapters One, and Two here!

Y/N sat at the bar and ordered a cranberry juice.

Butterfly Guy was sitting with Eggsy, Whiskey, and a guy who insisted on being called Merlin in a booth near the window.

“Rough day, sugar?” Paula the bartender asked as she set down the cloudy glass filled with purple-red juice.

“Rough couple of days,” she muttered and handed over a handful of crumpled bills that Paula methodically straightened out before placing them in the till. Paula was basically an agent in her own right. She’d been part of the bar for nearly twenty years and since only Statesmen drank here and knew of its existence, they spoke freely about their work. She probably knew more classified intel than some junior agents.

“You sure I can’t get you anything stronger?” She asked, her bleach blonde hair swiping over her shoulders. “Something with a little more oomph?”

“Just the cranberry juice for now.” She smiled and sipped on the too-bitter drink and resisted puckering her lips at the taste. “But thank you.”

Paula nodded and cast a glance at the table where the agents sat. “You know, Whiskey keeps lookin’ over here.”

She ignored the twisting in her stomach and took a large gulp. “ ‘s just post-mission jitters.”

“Uh-huh,” Paula said with a roll of her eyes. “Sure. When a handsome man looks at me like that…” she drifted off with a raise of her eyebrows.

(But she wouldn’t deny that she noticed Whiskey looking at her a little more often. When they met up after she implanted the tracker in Clara, she noticed Whiskey kept turning away every so often, a hand tucked in his front pocket. It was a common gesture used by men to hide an erection, she knew that—she just didn’t believe he would have one at that moment. They were in the middle of a mission. There was no way he was hiding a boner. But the thought was fun.)

Thankfully, Agent Moonshine started hollering and she sighed into her drink and got up from her barstool and walked behind the bar.

Paula was watching the scene unfold like she hadn’t watched a million bar fights before and looked ready to piss herself. Sunny patted her on the shoulder and signaled for her to hide in the little cubby beneath the register.

The Butterfly Guy quickly made a fool of himself, trying to teach Moonshine and his buddies some manners and she leaned against the sticky bar to watch as Whiskey stood from his seat. It wasn’t the first time she would watch Whiskey kick Moonshine’s ass but it was always fun to witness.

And those tight jeans did wonders for his butt.

While she would never understand his affinity for his lasso or his whip, it was nice to watch him work (and to see Moonshine bleed a little).

As he finished, Moonshine and his hangers-on all unconscious or bleeding enough to keep them still, Whiskey adjusted his hat and let out a whistle. “I feel like a tornado in a trailer park.”

She snorted and finished her drink as Paula slowly came out from the cubby and gaped at the mess. “It looks like a tornado came through here, boss. I think you owe Paula another window.”

“And new glasses!” Paula said with a frown.

She patted Paula’s shoulder again with a promise that the window would be fixed within a handful of hours as the televisions switched from the football game and were overtaken by a wash of yellow and red with an obnoxious chime.

A woman draped in a horrendous yellow outfit with fiery red hair soon filled the screens. “Mr. President, my name is Poppy Adams. I believe the UN has no teeth. So I've selected you, as leader of the free world, to receive this communication. And I invite you to begin negotiations on the largest scale hostage situation in history. A few weeks ago, an engineered virus was released and contained in all varieties of my product: cannabis, cocaine, heroin, opium, ecstasy, and crystal meth.” Each line item popped up on the screen in a pretty font. Cap looked over to see Whiskey already looking at her, lips pulled into a frown. “Some of you are already infected. And this is what you can expect in the coming days. After a brief incubation period, victims present with stage one symptoms: a blue rash. Next, second stage symptoms appear: mania, as the virus enters the brain. Very distressing to the victim and those around them. Stage three: paralysis. Muscles enter a state of catastrophic seizure. And once the muscles of the thorax become affected, breathing becomes impossible.” She watched as one new victim after another was revealed on the screen until blood spurted out of the last man’s eyes and nose, dead for millions to witness. “This leads to a very nasty death within 12 hours. But I have good news to the millions already affected. It doesn't have to be this way. I have an antidote.” Poppy held up a clear vial filled with an amber liquid—and Elton John behind another glass wall.

“What have you done to me, you fucking bitch?” God bless Elton John.

Undeterred by Elton John’s outburst, Poppy continued, “100% effective and ready to ship out worldwide at a moment's notice. I will do this if the following conditions are met. First, you agree to end the war on drugs, once and for all. All classes of substance are legalized paving the way to a new marketplace in which sales are regulated and taxed just like alcohol. And second, my colleagues and I receive full legal immunity. Meet my terms. I look forward to helping you keep our beloved country great, boosting our ailing economy, and easing spending on law enforcement. Or continue this blinkered, outmoded, and, frankly, disastrous exercise in prohibition, and live with blood on your hands. Save lives. Legalize.”

The broadcast ended and the televisions screens quickly flipped back to the football game. Whiskey was at her side in a blink of an eye. His hand brushed down her back. “We gotta talk to Champ, Sunny.”

And that was how she found herself bundled in winter gear on an Italian mountainside. Clara had called Charlie, and thanks to the tracking device she had implanted at Glastonbury, they were able to pick up the conversation. Charlie told Clara (who was now covered in the blue rash) to meet him at the ski resort they’d visited last year so he could give her the antidote. The tracking device could pinpoint their exact location and everyone was betting that the Italian resort was one of the storehouses for the antidote.

But she was also wondering, once again, why she found Whiskey attractive. He was in a terrible blue and white snowsuit that had to have been made in the 1970s. And he still refused to take off his damned cowboy hat. She appreciated the dedication to his aesthetic but it still seemed…ridiculous.

And he’d been grating on her last nerve on the flight over.

Ginger had buzzed in and suggested that Cap be the one to retrieve the antidote because only Clara would recognize her as opposed to Charlie possibly recognizing Eggsy or Butterfly Man (who she was told to call either Galahad or Harry). Whiskey then laughed—loudly—and stated plainly that he would be planning the mission and Ginger should stick to her computers and gadgets. “It isn’t like ya have any experience in the field.”

She really thought about murdering her boss for the rest of the flight. Her plots to kill him only got more creative when he told her to stay at the safe-house when they landed.

She was tired. She was angry.

And that was probably why she finally snapped. “If you didn’t want me to come along, you could have just told Champ. God knows you don’t listen to anyone else.” She hefted her bag filled with her own weapons and ammo higher onto her shoulder and turned away from him, readying to hike up toward the house and stew in her lonesome until the three men returned—hopefully with the antidote in hand.

But his hand grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop before she could get very far. “That ain’t fair, Sunny.”

She pulled out of his grip with a poorly hidden snarl. “No. You’re not fair. To me. To Ginger. All because of some bullshit you think is right.”

“I’m trying to protect you.”

“I don’t need protection. I’ve been in this game a long time-”

“And I’ve been in it longer-”

“-and I can take care of myself. What you’re doing to Ginger is so fucking backwards I’m surprised you can see straight,” she hissed it out like a curse. “I’m tired, Whiskey. I’m so tired of watching her jump through hoops trying to get you to notice that she could outperform half the agents in the field and you want her stuck behind the desk until she dies. I’m tired of you thinking you know best in the field. Why do you even request me to go with you if you’re going to undermine me every step of the way?”

Whiskey’s mouth opened. Then closed.

Her shoulders slumped. Harry and Eggsy both looked like they were very interested in the calibrations of their earpieces and not listening to what just happened. God this whole situation was pathetic. They were trying to save the world and she was waffling between yearning and rage for her stupid boss. She trudged away in the snow toward the safe house and barely heard Whiskey say, “what are you lookin’ at, Butterfly Guy?”

But she continued on, up the mountain and found the small shack of a house and swept the perimeter before settling in. She comm’ed in only to say she reached the safe house. Eggsy responded cheerfully but she didn’t respond when Whiskey also chimed in with a, “good work, Sunny.”

Time ticked by.

There was a commotion on the other end of the comm line when Butterfly Guy wouldn’t respond—and then all she heard was Eggsy and Whiskey screaming. She rolled her eyes. They were so dramatic. But soon, the trio was making their way toward the safe-house and she didn’t bother to open the door when she heard them outside. They all hobbled in, mid-argument.

Eggsy pulled out a small vial and showed it to her with a smile she had to reciprocate. “You got it.”

“We did. A little dicey—Charlie recognized me.”

She glanced at Whiskey who frowned in return. It didn’t matter. Ginger had been right and now he knew it.

“Can I see it, kid?” Whiskey asked with his hand outstretched as he walked toward them. But then his dark eyes tracked to the window and widened. “Get down!” Whiskey all but tackled both Eggsy and her to the dusty ground of the house as bullets started to fly. Glass shattered. Wood splintered.

She watched, unable to do anything from her pinned position, as the small vial was all but knocked from Eggsy’s hand and shattered on the ground.

“You fucking dickhead!” Eggsy hollered as he scrambled out from under Whiskey to look over the spilled antidote, almost uncaring of the bullets whizzing by.

“Fuck you, I just saved your life!” Whiskey retorted.

“Yeah, and cost millions of people theirs!”

She had to slap at Whiskey’s thigh to get him to move off her and she rolled off into the corner when he did. The rain of bullets stopped for a moment and she looked out the window. “They’re reloading.”

Whiskey nodded. “All right, I'll fix their wagons. Cover me, boys!” And then he all but bolted out of the house, guns blazing.

With a roll of her eyes, ignoring how Whiskey had told the ‘boys’ to cover him, she followed suit and ran out into the snow, pulling her guns out from their holsters. The shootout was nothing she hadn’t seen before and, while she didn’t have all the flair most of the Statesmen agents had, she could mow down people just as efficiently. (The acrobatics the Statesmen and Kingsman agents seemed so fond of really just seemed…excessive.)

Whiskey went through the left flank so she went through the unlucky men on the right.

It was easy pickings, really. Despite the heavy artillery and uneven numbers, it was almost too simple of a gunfight. But the adrenaline rush was nice. It had been too long since she had felt her heart beat this fast. Bullets were flying by her head as she dove behind a tree and then twisted to shoot down the other man. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted Whiskey pull out his electric lasso and then cut a man in half who came out with a knife.

“Fucking ridiculous,” she muttered as she stood, lowering her guns and quietly thankful that Whiskey wasn’t hurt.

There was a single gunshot and she froze. A familiar cold crept up her torso and one last man stepped out from the tree line with his gun raised right in her direction. The barrel smoked. But his eyes were wide like he couldn’t quite understand that he’d actually managed to shoot her. With a snarl, she pulled her guns up again and fired twice, painting the trees and snow behind him in a spattering of red.

“Sunny!” Whiskey yelled as he spotted her.

She pressed a hand to her stomach and felt the terrible, wet warmth soak her palm. She holstered her guns again and stepped out to look at him, turning ever so slightly to hide the blossoming red from him. “We’re good.”

“You should’ve stayed in the house.”

“You needed back up!” She said, marching toward the house despite feeling her legs shake. Pressing against the wound only made bile rise in her throat.

“The kid and Butterfly Guy-”

“It’s over, boss. Let’s just-”

Whiskey suddenly grabbed at her waist and all but threw her into the house and she nearly lost her footing. She barely had time to recognize the pain suddenly roaring through her system as the adrenaline started to fade.

“Troop carrier coming in. And I’m out of ammo—whaddya got?” He asked, pointedly looking at Eggsy and Harry.

But they were both looking at Whiskey’s hand.

He slowly raised it to his face and saw it covered in blood. His head snapped to the side to look at her. “Sunny?”

Her knees finally buckled and she hit the weathered wood. She shakily caught herself with her other hand, feeling blood slip between her fingers. She coughed and watched as blood splattered against the wood.

“They’ve got Gatling guns!”

Whiskey was yelling. Bullets whizzed by. And the beat of her heart started to drown out everything else.

“Harry, no!” She barely heard Eggsy shout.

And then, in her quickly-hazing vision, she watched Whiskey’s body crumple to the floor beside hers. She reached out a bloody hand toward him without thinking, pressing crimson-colored fingers against his face as if that would stop the bleeding.

“He broke the vial on purpose, Eggsy. If we made it out of here, he was gonna kill us both!”

The world went dark.  

                                                     **

The sterile scent of HQ’s medical wing was a welcoming aroma as her eyes opened.

“There you are.” Ginger leaned over her with a soft smile. “How ya feeling?”

“Tired.”

“No pain?” She asked as she helped Cap sit up slowly.

“A bit tender—but I know what feeling shot in the chest feels like so I would prefer this.” She pulled at the bland, cotton-blend shirt she was dressed in and saw her stomach covered in a bit of gauze and tape. Despite Ginger telling her not to, she pulled at the coverings to reveal the mostly-healed bullet wound and then pushed back into the pillows. It looked like it had already been healing for weeks instead of a day or two. Statesmen truly knew how to patch someone up. But then a thought struck her. “Where’s Whiskey?”

And Ginger’s soft, answering smile calmed her suddenly clenching heart. “He’s in the next room over, Cap. He’ll wake up soon. Eggsy gave him the Alpha Gel and it worked like it was supposed to.”

She pushed out a long breath through her nose and nodded. “Good. That’s good.”

Ginger’s watch beeped. She looked at the small screen and sighed. “I will be back. Don’t get into any trouble, okay?”

“I promise nothing.”

Ginger chuckled, having heard that answer many times before, and let herself out of the room. 

She let herself stew for a moment (it was really about an hour). Her life had really gone off the rails since Vegas. It was one thing to secretly harbor amorous thoughts about your boss. It was another to scream at him, get shot, and then see him get shot after seeing him (possibly) thwart any efforts to get the antidote and save millions of people. And she had a chance to say something to Ginger. But she didn’t.

Hm.

She carefully slid off the bed and winced when a bolt of pain zig-zagged through her body as her feet touched the cold floor. Shuffling over to the door, she peered out into the hallway and then stepped out. Whiskey’s holding room was only a few footsteps away.

Should she go in? But then what would she say?

Should she just go back to her room and pretend she was unconscious the entire time and remembered exactly nothing from Italy? But what was she trying to forget anyway?

But, thankfully, Eggsy found her in the middle of the hall and broke her rambling thoughts. He pocketed his phone and looked a bit worried as he noticed her. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Better than I should be after being shot. You?”

He started to nod but then shook his head. “My girlfriend…she, uh, she’s got the blue rash.” He rubbed at his forehead.

“You care about her. Probably more than you should, right?” That was easy to see. Eggsy was a good kid, probably a little too easy to read. “Especially in this line of work.”

“You get it—Kingsmen aren’t allowed to have attachments. And I…” he tried to grasp at the words he needed, “love her.”

“Statesmen doesn’t have that rule. Probably because we’re very bad at following any sort of guideline anyway.” She shrugged and regretted the movement as it pulled at her wound. “But that means you’ve got less than 12 hours. You got a plan?”

Eggsy quickly explained that they had been able to trace Poppy’s location to Cambodia and they were heading out there now. But his eyes quickly widened as he realized he had just revealed a plan to a potentially dangerous adversary.

“Relax, Eggsy. I’m not the one you shot in the head.” She waved him on. “Go. Save the world. Look out for landmines.”

“Landmines?” Eggsy parroted, face scrunching into a confused frown.

“If Poppy’s as crazy as I think she is, I wouldn’t be surprised if she has nonsense like that. Who knows? Maybe she has a fleet of man-eating robots, too.”

“What are you on about?”

She shook her head. “I’ve seen some stuff. Don’t worry about it.”

He smiled and started to walk away. “You should come to London when this is all over. I’ll get you a drink!”

She smiled a bit and watched him disappear around a corner before her eyes once again drifted toward Whiskey’s door. “…fuck.” Against her better judgement, she walked up and let the door glide open without a sound. The room was quiet. Whiskey was motionless on the bed, face still covered by the machine to help the Alpha Gel finish its work. His vitals were steady, displayed on large screens across the wall.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

He would be fine.

She slipped gingerly into a chair near the bed and resisted the urge to reach out and touch his hand. He just looked so…vulnerable. It was so unlike him. An angry, terrible twisting pulled at her chest. “I’m not sorry I yelled at you, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was talking to him but the words kept coming anyway. “You need to let Ginger out in the field. She’d be a better agent than me. I don’t know why you’re… I don’t understand you at all, actually. I wish I did, I think. I wish I could understand you and why you do things and say things. I wish I could understand why you make me feel so stupid.”

Maybe being this close to death—again—was making her sentimental. Or maybe the pain medication was making her crazy.

Probably the second option. Hopefully, anyway.

The door opened again and Ginger stepped in. “I knew I’d find you in here.”

“How’d you figure that?”

Ginger gave her a look but didn’t answer. “It is about time we wake him up. You remember how it’s like, right?”

She nodded. She had heard stories about how most agents needed a ‘reminder’ of a traumatic event to bring them back to the present and how their minds could be a bit foggy for a few days after, but she had never seen it in person. But she basically knew what to except--right? 

With a flip of a few switches, the machine receded and Whiskey’s eyes opened. He was up and off the bed with a spring in his gait that had her laughing as he gave some terrible pick-up line to Ginger. But the laugh drew his attention and his body went rigid as his eyes landed on her. “Sunny.”

She felt tension she didn’t realize she was holding leech from her shoulders as he smiled at her. “Hey, boss.”

Ginger tucked something back in her pocket and her smile seemed to reach her ears. “I’ll leave you two…alone. But I’m just outside if you need anything.” She then scurried out and left her alone with Whiskey and her hammering heart.

“Sunshine.” The new nickname was all but crushing to her heart, caving in her chest.

She waved him back to the bed and told him to rest before she curled her fingers around his hand. It was warm and calloused and, as cliché as it sounded, seemed to fit hers perfectly. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been shot in the head.”

She almost laughed and her other hand carefully pushed his still-impeccably styled hair away from the bandage covering a small bit of his temple. “Yeah. You look great for a dead man, though.”

“That’s probably the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” But he said it with a smile and squeezed her hand. “Say it again.”

“You look great.” And her smile grew, heart a little lighter.

He huffed out a laugh but then a long silence stretched between them. She looked away from his dark eyes but didn’t pull her hand away from his, fearing he’d disappear if she did.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Sunshine?” He squeezed at her hand until she looked at him again.

“I’m okay. They fixed me up just fine. A new scar for the collection.”

His smile slowly dropped and he placed his other hand over hers, too. “I saw you drop. You were bleedin’ out and I-”

“I saw you get shot, too, you know. Butterfly Guy has an interesting way of showing he doesn’t trust someone.” She shook the thought away. Harry’s brain was scrambled, too. “I’m just happy you’re okay. Your brain might feel a bit funny for a day or two, but I’ll be here.”  

“Where are they now? The Brits?”

“They’re on their way to Cambodia. They think they’ve found Poppy’s base.”

Whiskey all but yanked his hands from hers and threw his legs over the side of the bed before standing on his long legs. She quickly stood too, chair clattering backward. “We’ve gotta go. Tell Ginger to get the Silver Pony on the runway.” He started toward the door before she grabbed at his arm.

“Boss, c’mon. You need to rest-”

“I need to make sure that bitch doesn’t get what she wants.”

She was scrambling then, hands pawing up his arm to grasp at his face. Her heart was in her throat as she looked at him. His dark eyes looked so cold. Unfocused. She knew the Alpha Gel could scramble someone’s brain as it physically repaired it, pushing them into old habits and thoughts and fears. She knew Whiskey wasn’t thinking right at the moment—no matter how soft he had been with her moments ago, this wasn’t her Whiskey. Her mouth went dry. Thoughts raced by as the pit she had felt growing in her stomach expanded to an abyss. She knew what he’d been through. The death of his wife at the hands of some coked-out druggies was an open secret. And she knew her own grief, dealt with it in her own way—not all of it healthy, she knew. But she had to try. She knew the look of a man who wanted vengeance no matter the cost—and, right now, the cost was millions of lives. “Do you know why I don’t drink?”

“We don’t have time for this,” he said as he pulled out of her grip.

“Drunk driver plowed into my dad’s car. I was at the local pool with some friends and Dad piled everyone in to pick me up so we could get ice cream after. They never made it.” She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you think I hold it against everyone who likes to put a little something extra in their coffee? Likes to have a little liquid courage to talk to the cute guy across the bar?”

Whiskey’s face twisted and his eyes seemed to dilate before he scrunched them shut. A shaking hand pushed through his hair.

“I work at a distillery for a man named Whiskey.”

Another silence stretched between them. She would swear he could hear her heartbeat in the quiet of the room.

A careful hand reached out to touch his wrist, too afraid to do much else. “Stay,” she whispered. “Stay with me.”

And his eyes finally opened.

                                                        **

Champ smiled and congratulated them on a job well done. It was a week since the entire Golden Circle situation had been handled. Tequila was well. Whiskey’s mind was clear. And their profits had never been higher.

Merlin, Harry, and Eggsy were standing at the end of the table and each held a glass of amber liquid as everyone raised a toast. Whiskey was sitting across from his Sunny, golden glasses perched on the edge of his nose. He probably should have been listening to what was Champ was saying but all he could see was how she licked her lips after taking a sip of her cranberry juice.

Statesmen, knowing an ally when they saw one, had purchased a distillery in Scotland. It was the perfect guise to help Kingsman rebuild and keep their money looking “clean.” Yes, he should have listened.

Because the Kid opened his mouth and said Kingsman needed more agents.

“I think Ginger would be a great Kingsman,” Sunny said with a smile.

Ginger, tucked into a corner a drink of her own, smiled in return. “I…”

“Agreed,” Whiskey heard himself saying. And he quickly realized that he meant it. 

Ginger’s eyes went wide and she nearly sloshed the entirety of her drink across her shirt.

Champ laughed. “Alrighty then. Ginger Ale, well, I guess you’ll get a new code name, won’t ya?”

But the Kid’s smile widened. “And I was thinking Cap could come, too.” He turned to her and shrugged a shoulder. “Whaddya say, Cap? I’ll show you the real London.”

Whiskey looked at her, feeling like someone had shoved their fist down his throat. Don’t go. Don’t leave.

“I always wanted to be a knight of the round table.”

The men at the end of the table cheered again and Ginger walked over to knock their glasses together.

And while everyone continued to pat themselves on the back for completing the mission, all he could feel was cold.

The revelry eventually died down and Whiskey found himself the last one seated at the table. Everyone else filtered out to ready for the next mission—or the move to London. It was just him and Champ. The older man plopped down in the seat beside him and refilled his empty glass.

“London is only a few hours by plane from New York.”

He took a long pull from his glass.

“I’ve never known you to wait for something you wanted, Whiskey. But sure seemed to drag your ass on this one.”

“What are you talkin’ about, Champ?” He finally asked after another large gulp of alcohol.

But Champ just shook his head with a throaty chuckle. “You two are a mess.”

                                                     **

Royal weddings were…an event, she was finding.

After nearly losing Princess Tilde to the Golden Circle, Eggsy actually proposed. And with Harry now known as Arthur and presiding over Kingsman, the rules changed. Attachments were allowed. And because Tilde knew his fellow Kingsman were like Eggsy’s family, they were invited to the wedding. A handful of Statesmen, too. It had been a year since Poppy’s demise in Cambodia and the world was (mostly) at peace. Kingsman managed to salvage quite a bit from the wreckage of their former bases and Statesmen funded the rest of their necessary rebuilds. It was slow-going, and a handful of new agents were still finding their footing after graduating from the selection process.

“Please tell me Tequila is not wearing jeans,” she muttered.

Ginger, now known as Agent Percival, rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile as she spotted the jean-clad man amid the rest of the American crowd. “I could but that would be a lie.” She paused. “But Whiskey certainly dressed for the occasion.”

She leaned forward just the slightest bit to see Whiskey dressed in a fine tuxedo. “Is that one of ours?”

Ginger hummed. “He came in a few days ago for a fitting.”

She swallowed the saliva filling her mouth and turned back to watch Eggsy nervously fidget with his cufflinks at the end of the aisle. “Looks good.”

The ceremony finished after the vows and a bit of perfunctory reading and singing before the guests were all chauffeured over to the reception space at the royal palace. “You know, Merlin told me that you and Whiskey are quite fond of using emojis in your emails,” Ginger said as dinner was cleared away and dessert started to be served. 

Her glass of water nearly slipped from her grip as embarrassment washed over her. “I was told those were private.”

“Nothing’s private in our line of work,” Ginger said with a pat to her hand. “But you haven’t really explained what is going on between you two.”

She rubbed at her temples. How could she possibly explain that she knew Whiskey, while his brain was still scrambled, wanted to let everyone infected with the Blue Rash die? How could she explain that she, despite all that, missed his smile and stupid mustache? Missed how he had terrible pick-up lines that always made her roll her eyes? Missed how she always seemed a little lighter whenever he would waltz into her office in New York?

Their constant contact devolved away from work and missions and into their private lives. He would ask after Bela and she would ask him to tell her about the view from his office window. It was now a strange sort of friendship that she treasured and protected despite how they hadn’t seen each other in person in over a year. She had taken the position at Kingsman, took the code name Agent Mordred, moved to London. It should have been a clean break. She could have kept their communications purely professional. But she didn’t. She just couldn’t truly let him go.

But on the outside, she shrugged as her hands dropped away from her face.

“It looks like I’ll be able to see for myself because he’s on his way over here.”

Her head snapped up at the sound of Ginger’s smug tone and, sure enough, Whiskey was on his way over, walking through the dancing crowd and wandering guests, right toward their table.

“But oh no. Would you look at that, I need more champagne.” Ginger then scampered off and left her alone.

Whiskey easily took Ginger’s vacated seat and smiled at her. “Hey, Sunshine.”

“Hey, bos-Whiskey.”

He chuckled at her slip. His head tilted to the side as he looked at her, eyes trailing down her form and she resisted a shiver like a teenaged girl but was silently thankful for the designer dress that fit her like a glove in a soft blue silk. “You look good.”

“You too.” And he did. The tuxedo was impeccably cut and the darkest black. A pristine white shirt was held back with a matching cummerbund and a black bowtie was slightly crooked around his neck. She reached out and straightened it.

He reached up to keep her hand pressed against his chest with a small smile. “I miss you.” It was whispered like a secret.

“We talk every day.” But she didn’t pull her hand away.

“ ‘s not the same and you know it.” He squeezed her hand. “Dance with me?” Wordlessly, he led her out onto the dance floor and pulled her close.

His expensive cologne made her mind swim but she resisted the urge to rest her cheek against his shoulder despite every nerve in her body telling her to do so. The music was slow, soft, and romantic. The lighting was low and accentuated by flickering candles that danced across the golden walls of the royal ballroom. If she could let herself remember anything—it would be this moment. Held in the arms of the man she loved even if it was just for a tiny sliver of time.

“I never thanked you, you know.”

“For what?”

“Saving me. My head was a mess—even before Butterfly Guy put a bullet in it. It took me a while but I…” He shook his head. “You’ve given me a second chance.”

She cocked her head to the side with a smile. “To save the world?”

Whiskey’s smile was small and his cheeks reddened the slightest bit but his dark eyes never left her face. His grip on her hand and waist tightened the slightest bit. “A second chance at everything.”

She chuckled and ignored how her chest tightened. Reading into it would only make it hurt.

A/N: Thank you for reading!

Beautiful people who asked to be tagged: @spookyold-saintjm​ @honestlystop​ @paryl​ @fioccodineveautunnale @lackofhonor

[grilledcheeseandguavajelly]

“I’ll Lay You Down Before You Fall” - Ally Mayfair-Richards x Lana Winters

Alright. ALRIGHT. Not to be dramatic, but this ship has absolutely ruined my life and I would GLADLY die 1000 times over for these headstrong idiots. Safe to say that once I thought about it I couldn’t get them out of my head. So, here we are, 9,000 words later. 

Special thanks to @thatgirlintheleatherjacket​ for humoring me and giving me the kick in the ass that I needed to actually post this, and @shineestark​ for listening to my incoherent rants about these cuties and unsticking my writer’s block :)

Words: 9,700

Summary: Allyson Mayfair-Richards doesn’t like losing. And she especially doesn’t like losing to pretty reporters with dark hair and perfect lips and a confidence streak that could outrun the sun. 

~Enjoy!~

Ally had stared at the thick, wooden door for twenty-three minutes, foot tapping as she mindlessly flipped through the papers in her hand. 

It was stuffy in the building, too stuffy for Ally not to be uncomfortable. And after checking and re-checking her watch and telling the receptionist at least three times that she had an appointment, Ally’s patience was near to gone. 

When that same receptionist had come to get her and escort her into the editor’s office, and Ally realized that Lana Winters had been in there alone the entire time, her patience had flown so far out the window Ally couldn’t even fathom reeling it back in. 

And after Lana had smirked up at her, teeth almost bared as she popped her brow and addressed her with a sarcastic, “You wanted to see me, Senator?”, Ally was fighting a losing battle to keep ahold of her tone with every inch of her being, let alone keep her hands from shaking in anger. 

She had barely been speaking with the journalist for five minutes, and Ally was already shocked at how deep Lana had dug herself under her skin. It was like she knew everything Ally was going to say. Had a counterpoint to present before Ally could even finish her sentence.  

All Ally had come to do was politely tell Lana that she couldn’t film on school property. To put her foot down and pull her rank if absolutely necessary. It wasn’t exactly against their state laws, or even the code of the city for that matter. But it was wrong, and Ally had taken the time to draw out a detailed proposal that explained exactly why she was correct. 

But whatever she had planned for, whatever conversations she had run through in her head, she certainly hadn’t considered losing. And right now, Ally sure as hell felt like she was losing, clinging to her point with a death grip as Lana swirled a tornado of words around her and spun her out. 

Ally was barely managing to hold on to her thought process, trying miserably to navigate Lana’s counterargument. Which was probably why her perfectly thought out proposal was currently crunching under her tightening fingers, paper crinkling as Ally forced herself to take a deep breath. 

“They shouldn’t have been at the school.” Ally set her jaw, locking her posture at the annoyance of having to push the same reasoning at this woman seven times. But she just wouldn’t listen. 

“My girls are going to do what it takes to get their story. Otherwise what’s the point?”

“What’s the point?” Ally countered, voice rising against her better judgment. “I don’t know, maybe respecting the privacy of children and learning institutions, and teaching your girls some boundaries for once in their lives?” 

Lana’s eyes flicked down to the “time’s up” button pinned to Ally’s blazer. 

“Are you supportive of female journalism, Senator?”

“Am I...? What?” Ally scoffed. “Of course I’m supportive of female journalism.”

Lana quirked an eyebrow. Popped her tongue. “Alright.” 

And the way she dragged it out, the way she drawled on the word and tilted her head as her eyebrows flicked up in a soft nod, had Ally’s skin crawling and blood boiling in seconds. She threw the papers down on Lana’s desk. 

“Keep your girls out of the public school systems. If you want to get up in some private school’s business, that’s fine. Take it up with them. But our city’s public schools are under my jurisdiction and I am telling you that next time you want your cameras and microphones and pushy-ass questions inside one of them, you’ll have to go through me first.”

And with a huff she was gone, the calm clicking of Lana’s typewriter following Ally down the hallway and making her eye twitch. 

~~~

Ally was late to pick up Oz. Thirty-six minutes late, to be exact. Her meeting had run over and her sitter had fallen through, and her car could only get across the city so fast. 

When she made it to the front doors she was nothing but grateful and apologetic, signing him out on the clipboard and scruffing his hair with a smile as he hugged her legs. 

“I missed you,” he murmured into her side, and Ally knelt down on his level. 

“Oh Ozzie, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.” He grinned. “What do you think about getting some ice cream on the way home?” 

“Really?”

Ally nodded. 

“Yes!” And then he tackled her in another hug, and Ally couldn’t help but beam as his little arms wrapped around her neck. 

She pulled away, patting him on the head and ruffing up his curls as he shrugged off his backpack for her to carry. She had just picked it up, thinking absently that his books were getting too big and too heavy, when movement behind him caught her eye. 

Oh hell no.

There she was. Lana Winters. With a fucking camera crew and an amateur reporter. She was tracking her finger down the script in the girl’s hands, positioning her and the cameras in front of the fence by the playground. 

“Mama?” Oz questioned, blinking up at Ally. 

And in that split second Ally went against her better judgement because she had principles and she was never one to let things go. 

“Just… sit right here on the steps okay?” she said absently to Oz, dropping his backpack and patting his shoulder as he sat down. “Right there. Get started on your homework and I’ll be right back and I promise,” a soft kiss to the top of his head, “that we will get ice cream as soon as I’m finished.” 

She cut clear across the sidewalk, crossing the grass as her mind ran over the million different things she wanted to say to this woman. But somehow when she reached her, got right up in her face and loomed over her, practically snarling, all she could land on was, “Winters.” 

“Senator.” Lana’s brow quirked up challengingly. 

Ally growled. “I thought I told you that you needed permission to film on school property.”

Lana stifled a smirk. “And I thought I told you that we would do what was needed to get our story.”

The determination that was set in her eyes was driving Ally mad in the most agonizingly slow way. She clenched her fists at her side, swallowing down a rude remark. She was a public figure. They were both professionals. They could work this out. 

“Listen,” Ally tried, speaking a little bit too slowly to keep her voice steady. “Obviously we’re at an impasse. Why don’t you come to my office and we can discuss this properly. Find a middle ground.” 

Lana hesitated, glanced over at her cameraman. It was clear that she had expected Ally to snap, and Ally couldn’t help but smile at the idea that she had thrown her. 

Lana fidgeted with the papers in her hands, composing herself. 

“My lead is going to go stale in about eight hours, Ms. Mayfair-Richards.” Her voice was firm, and the way that her eyes searched Ally’s face, narrowing almost imperceptibly, left Ally’s jaw twitching. “I’m not going to miss out on this story just because you have a problem with me filming in front of an empty field.”

“I won’t let you air it,” Ally warned, crossing her arms. “Not without a proper meeting.”

And Lana had the nerve to sigh, circling her finger in the air and motioning for her team to wrap. She gestured to the young girl hovering a few feet away, taking the papers from her and sorting them with her own. 

“I have about forty-five minutes now,” she said, still looking down at her papers as she rifled through them. She replaced the script and flicked through a few more pages before looking up. “If you want to have a formal meeting. Otherwise I’m not free until Thursday and like I said—“ She pushed the papers back into the girl’s hands, trading her for her phone. “My lead goes dry in eight hours. It’s now or never, Ms. Mayfair-Richards.”

And oh how Ally despised when people called her by her full last name. She knew it was part of the job. It was the proper way to address her. But it only reminded her of Ivy. Betrayal. And when Lana said it… It made something hot stir up inside of her that set her teeth on edge. 

Ally shook her head. “I have to take my son home. Now’s not a good time. I have a slot free before my morning meetings tomorrow, but that’s the best I can do for you.”

Lana smiled, licking her lips. “I’ll give you six hours to change your mind. After that, we start filming, understood?” 

And Ally shook her head again. “What? No. Ms. Winters, that’s not what I said. You’re not filming here without permission, and I’m not—“

“You’ll change your mind,” Lana called over her shoulder, already walking away across the large field. And as she marched off, heels miraculously not slipping into the soil, hands gesticulating and snatching papers back and forth from the girl on her team, Ally couldn’t help but wonder if she was right. 

~~~ 

“Could I please have chocolate chip?” Oz asked sweetly, pushing his glasses up his nose. A moment, and then a tug to her sleeve. “Mama.”

Ally snapped her attention back to the ice cream shop, back to her son. “What, honey?”

“I would like chocolate chip, please.”

And Ally tried for the best smile she could, stroking her fingers through his curls. “Of course you can have chocolate chip, my polite little man. You’re growing up too fast, what am I going to do with you?” And Oz squealed as Ally pinched at his cheeks, scruffed his hair. 

She kept spacing out in line, focus snapping between her son and Lana’s words, echoing over and over in her mind. Her smug smirk. The way she owned every situation she came across. Like Ally was supposed to. Like Ally did. Until today.

Two chocolate chip double scoops later, with the ice cream dripping off the bottom of her cone, Ally decided that she didn’t like losing arguments. She didn’t like not being in control of the situation. And she certainly didn’t like letting someone else have the last word. 

“Mama,” Oz giggled, licking up the side of his cone to catch the melting line of chocolate chips. “You’re getting ice cream on your pants!” 

And shit, of course he was right. Ally had spaced so far out that she had forgotten that ice cream melts. And it was leaving a nice white puddle on the thigh of her black pants. 

“Oh gosh,” she muttered, swiping at her leg. “Thank you, Ozzie. Let me just— I’m just going to go inside and get a napkin, okay?” 

He nodded enthusiastically, and Ally had the wherewithal to keep her eyes on him the entire time she was inside the store, hands finding the box of napkins and pulling too many as she tracked him licking his ice cream, watched every single person who walked by. And when someone walked up with a dog that got a little bit too close, Ally was back out the door like a shot. 

“Ozzie, wait,” she started, but he was already deep in conversation with the man, his inevitably sticky hand scruffing between the dog’s ears. And as Ally glanced up at the man to apologize, her heart stuttered. 

He had blue hair. And even though it was cut short and it was the wrong shade, her brain still played horrible tricks on her. This man wasn’t Kai. People didn’t come back from the dead. But it was just enough to pull those old anxieties up and make the world spin a little bit too fast. 

“That’s enough, sweetie,” Ally tried softly, hand on Oz’s shoulder. 

“It’s alright,” the man with the dog said, smiling kindly at Ally. And she really, truly tried her best to smile back. 

“I appreciate it, but we had better be going. Right, sweetheart? Thank you so much for letting him pet your dog.” She nudged Oz. “What do we say?”

“Thank you,” Oz giggled, muttering a soft “ew” as the dog licked his hand. 

Ally nodded. “Alright now, say goodbye. We’ve got to go.”

Her grip was iron on his shoulder as she pulled him alongside her back to the car, tucking him in close and letting out a soft sigh. 

“Are you okay, Mama?” Oz asked after they had been driving for a few minutes.

Ally nodded, glancing at him in the rearview mirror. “Always, sweetie. Why do you ask?”

Oz shrugged. “He just looked like Daddy, that’s all.”

Ally’s heart lodged in her throat, tears burning her eyes as her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. 

“Ozzie, sweetie. He’s not your daddy. Remember? He was never your daddy. He lied.” 

And Oz nodded with a light “okay” before pulling a book out of his backpack and flipping through the pages. 

Ally turned the radio up as she cleared her throat, swiping at her tears as nonchalantly as possible and sniffing softly. Another glance in the rearview mirror and he was still reading. With her. Safe. 

When she hit a red light she dropped her head back on the seat, groaning and cursing herself before snatching her phone from her purse. A few swipes and taps, and she had her sitter on the phone. 

“Hi. It’s me. I know you said you couldn’t pick Oz up from school, but would you maybe be free in an hour? Something’s come up.”

~~~ 

Ally’s fingers tapped over her coffee mug, leeching the warmth from it as her leg bounced under the table. She watched the door, perking up every time it opened and the bell dinged. But it was a good ten minutes before Lana walked in, blue blazer just a little bit too perfect as she wiped her hands and casually threw her coffee order at the barista. It was met with a frantic “yes, Ms. Winters” and then she found Ally, eyes locking on her and raking down her form. Her brow quirked up as she sauntered over. 

“Senator,” she drawled as she pulled out her chair. 

Ally stood, hand outstretched. “Ms. Winters.”

Lana waved her off, sitting. “Oh for god’s sake, don’t be so formal. Sit down.”

And there it was again, that heat that flared in Ally’s cheeks because she wasn’t in control of the situation. All she could think was fix it. And fast. 

But before she could swallow and get her mouth around words, Lana spoke.

“You changed your mind.”

A nod.

“Why?”

Ally’s hands found her mug again, fingers skimming over the smooth porcelain. She stared down into the foam for a moment, and when she looked up, Lana’s eyes were tracking her fingers. 

“Tell me again what your story is about?” 

And at that, Lana met her gaze. Skepticism clouded her features. She licked her lips. 

“We got a tip that someone tried to break into the school last night. A man was seen hopping the fence and testing the doors.”

Ally nodded. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Lana’s eyes narrowed, and there was a question pushing against her lips. Ally could see her fighting it. 

“Why this story?” Ally asked, even though she knew the answer. Anyone with any common sense knew the answer. But she wanted to hear it from Lana’s mouth. Just to be sure. 

Lana cleared her throat. Straightened. “Senator,” she started, folding her hands in front of her. “People deserve to know when—“ Her coffee was set in front of her. “Thank you— People deserve to know when their children are in danger. When their neighborhood is in danger. They deserve to know. To be well informed and have the time and the means to protect themselves.”

“And why in front of the playground?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “Emotional appeal. If we shot it from across the street, with the logo of the school in front, it wouldn’t hit as hard as if you’re seeing the jungle gyms and the mulch kicked up and the balls left abandoned in the grass.”

Ally hummed, chewing on her lip as she ran her thumb along the rim of her mug. A long moment while Lana took a sip of her coffee. And then Ally nodded. 

“You can shoot your segment there. Tonight. In front of the playground.”

Lana half-smiled at her, taking another slow sip. “Well,” she started, brow raising as she looked up at Ally over the rim of her mug. “I would say thank you, but…”

Ally challenged her, quirking her own brow. “But?”

Lana shook her head. “It’s not important.” She cleared her throat, replacing her coffee on the table in front of her. “What is interesting me, though, is that mysterious stain on your pants. Seems like there’s a story there.” 

The blood drained from Ally’s face as she looked down at the ring from the melted ice cream on her thigh. She had been home for a good twenty minutes. She had had time to change. But Oz had needed help with his homework and then there had been a fiasco with his afternoon snack and a slight fit over the fact that it was peanut butter and celery again, and she had honestly been in such a rush to touch up her makeup and fluff her hair that she had forgotten about her pants entirely. 

Ally tried to blow it off the best she could, pushing a hand through her hair and chuckling something about how kids were a handful and she barely had time to pee, let alone change her clothes once he got home from school. 

Lana smiled. A big, genuine smile as she leaned forward on the table. “Tell me about your son. Ozzie, right?” 

And before Ally knew what had happened, two hours had gone by, both of their coffees ice cold, half-finished, and forgotten between them. They had laughed, Ally had cried, as hard as she had tried not to. And when the tear fell and she swiped it quickly with her thumb, Lana’s hand had found hers across the table. But now, as Lana recounted details from her kidnapping, Ally found herself leaning into her voice, chin propped in her hand and brow furrowed as she nodded along with the words. 

“And he needed me, I think,” she continued, staring intently at Ally. She didn’t look away. She didn’t drop her gaze. It was incredibly brave, how open she was being. And Ally understood. 

“It’s that dependency,” Ally agreed, eyes narrowing. “Did he have issues with his parents? Kai’s died when he was young.”

Something ghosted over Lana’s face and she cleared her throat to cover it, tilting her head and brushing a strand of hair out of her face. Smiled softly. “He had… He needed a mother. And he chose me to fill that gap.”

And the way she talked about it, like it was just something that had happened, like it hadn’t left deep scars and didn’t stick with her. Like she didn’t wake up in the middle of the night screaming… Maybe she didn’t. At this point Ally thought she was probably the strongest person alive. It wouldn’t have surprised her one bit if Lana had completely moved on. Goodness knows she certainly talked about everything well enough. 

But something nagged at the back of Ally’s mind. Maybe it was the way the tip of her eyebrow was twitching. Maybe it was the way she held onto Ally’s eye contact like it was a lifeline. Whatever it was, Ally had a feeling that beneath that strong, hard outer layer was someone so soft and so broken that Lana had to hold onto those walls she had built, re-fortify them every second of every day to keep her most vulnerable parts safe. 

“We don’t need to talk about this,” Ally started, clearing her throat. But Lana squeezed her hand and she stopped herself.

“Please,” Lana tried, a small smile on her lips. “I don’t… Not many people understand what I’ve been through. And probably no one quite like you. I don’t mind.” She swallowed, her smile twitching. “If that’s alright.”

Ally found herself whispering “always” before she knew what she was doing. Before she knew if she wanted to keep talking about it. Because there was something intoxicating about having someone else stare into her soul while she talked about her deepest secrets, her deepest fears. To place them right there. Out in the open. And not be judged. To have someone nodding along who actually meant it. Who understood. Who knew those emotions that she kept dug down in that deep place within her mind, without her having to say a word. 

Lana’s smile grew and she licked her lips, her thumb brushing over Ally’s palm, and a shiver ran up under Ally’s skin. She blinked, and Lana blinked back, and suddenly she was overcome with the deep, aching need to kiss her. 

Anyone but her.

Ally cleared her throat. “Anyway,” she tried, pulling her hand from Lana’s grip. She told herself it was a coincidence that Lana’s smile fell at that exact moment. “Don’t you need to go film your piece? You’re going to run out of daylight.”

Lana glanced at her watch, seemingly jolted back into the real world. Her eyes went wide. “Shit. Shit! Is that the time?” She scrambled, gathering her purse and digging out a ten dollar bill to drop on the table. 

“No no, let me,” Ally tried, fumbling with her own purse. “You did me a favor, meeting me here.” 

But Lana waved her off, shouldering her bag. “How about you give me a ride back to the school and we call it even? I’ll never make it in time if I walk.”

And Ally found herself smiling. “Alright. Deal.”

~~~ 

The television droned as Ally washed the dishes, scrubbing them down and drying them off. One by one. She didn’t know why, but there was something so soothing about it. Oz tucked snugly in bed, the quiet of the house. The rhythm of the washing and drying and washing again. It gave her time to think over her day, sort out cases, process everything and anything that was picking at her mind. 

Right now, it was Lana Winters. And she hated herself for it. Hated how much she had enjoyed the closeness, the familiarity. The immediate warmth that had threaded through her body at Lana’s touch, her words, just listening to her talk. 

The way her hand had brushed over Ally’s as she was buckling herself into the front seat of Ally’s car.

Ally fought to keep the woman off her mind. And she was failing miserably. But she full-on gave up when Lana popped up on her television, her voice breaking Ally’s thoughts. 

She was in front of the school, mouth moving over empathetic words. Brow pushed up. Eyes almost watering. Damn, she was good. Ally had just noted that Lana had taken the story herself, she hadn’t let the intern do it, when the doorbell rang. 

She set the plate down in the sink, drying her hands on a towel and silently cursing her neighbor for always asking to borrow ingredients this late. She had asked her multiple times not to ring the doorbell after nine, but the woman never complied. 

Ally made a bet with herself that it would be eggs this time - what was it with this woman and eggs at night? - as she pulled the door open. 

And froze. 

Lana Winters stood before her, hair caught up in a ponytail and makeup still absolutely perfect. She was wearing the same stunning blue blazer combination that she had worn earlier in the day. And Ally was still in her stained pants.

“Senator,” Lana greeted her, a soft smile pushing her cheeks up. 

“Is everything okay?” Ally tried, tugging at the hem of her shirt and smoothing it down. 

Lana nodded, her brow twitching before morphing back into that sweet smile. “I was just…” She huffed, swallowing. “I know it’s late, but I was just about to head home, and I realized that I pass your neighborhood on my way, so I thought maybe we could—“

Ally bit down on a smile, opening the door wider and gesturing inside. “Come on in.”

~~~ 

“Red or white?” Ally called from the kitchen, hands hovering between the glasses in her cabinet. 

“Whatever you’re drinking,” Lana replied. “I’m not picky.” 

Red it was. 

Ally pulled the wide glasses down onto the counter, filling them just a bit too high, and went to join Lana in the living room. 

She was standing in front of a bookshelf, arms crossed and fingers tapping on her elbow as she looked over the pictures there. She pointed to one, looking over at Ally. 

“Is this your wife?”

Ally moved around the couch, handing Lana her glass. Glanced at the picture as Lana swirled her wine and smiled in approval. 

“Ex-wife,” Ally corrected, taking sip from her glass. 

“Oh,” Lana started, turning back to the photo. “I thought that I heard you were widowed. I apologize.” 

Ally shook her head, placing her hand placatingly on Lana’s arm. “No no,” she said as she swallowed another sip. “I was. It’s just… She’s the one that got us into that entire mess. And I realized after I figured everything out that we hadn’t been married for a while. Not really. So… It’s easier if I…” She cleared her throat. “She’s still Oz’s mother and I think it’s important that he remember her, but sometimes I wonder if it would… be easier for him if this chapter of his life wasn’t constantly on display.”

Lana shook her head. “Who knows…” she mumbled absently. And guilt washed through Ally.

“I’m sorry,” she tried, clearing her throat. “Here I am, making this all about me. You wanted to talk about something?”

Lana waved her off for the hundredth time that day and made for the couch. Something in the back of Ally’s brain hated that she was so casual about it, didn’t wait to be invited to sit. And something told Ally that she didn’t really hate it at all.

A split second decision, and Ally sat on the couch with her, instead of across in the armchair. 

“I just wanted to thank you again for letting me run that story.”

Ally smiled, shaking her head. “I made it into a bigger thing than it needed to be. It was a good piece.” 

Lana swallowed her sip of wine, perking up. “You watched it?”

“I did,” Ally nodded, smirking around the rim of her glass. “What happened to that pretty little intern who was going to run the story?”

A laugh. “I was hoping you wouldn’t notice.”

Ally’s brow quirked. “So you knew I would be watching?”

Lana’s eyes narrowed. “I had my suspicions.”

“Oh, is that so?”

A chuckle echoed in Lana’s wine glass, and there it was again, that pounding in Ally’s head to kiss her that left her stomach flipping and her thighs clenching. 

They fell into an amicable silence, staring at each other and taking small sips of their wine. Ally didn’t know when, but at some point, Lana’s hand had slid over her own. And when she realized it was there, she traced her thumb over Lana’s knuckles. 

Lana hummed, and the way it reverberated in Ally’s chest made heat rush to her cheeks. 

“Listen,” Ally started, and Lana’s brow twitched up questioningly. “I apologize if I was too firm about filming at the school. I hope that in the future we can—“

“Mama?!”

Ice shot down Ally’s spine. “Shit.” 

She scrambled, sliding her wine glass onto the table and bolting up. Lana was right there with her, following her out of the living room.  

“Is everything okay?”

Ally nodded as she skated through the rooms to the stairs. “Yes, yeah. I’m sorry, he just, he has night terrors. Just give me one minute.”

She ran up the steps, pushing the door to Oz’s room open. 

“Oz? What is it? What’s wrong? I’m right here.” 

Ozzie was curled up against his headboard, shaking and sniffling. And something hard knotted over Ally’s heart. She rushed to his side, pushing stray hairs off of his sweaty brow. 

“Shh, shh,” she cooed, tucking him against her chest and rocking him softly. “It’s okay. I’m here. You’re safe. You’re safe.” 

She felt him nod against her stomach and she pulled back, holding his face in her hands. “What was the dream about, sweetheart?” 

He started with his broken explanation, brow scrunching as he tried to remember all of the pieces and put them in a logical order. It wasn’t too bad, until he got to the end. And then it was Kai and Ivy, just like it always was. This time sitting on a throne and making him dance. Kai walking over and ripping his arms off. Cackling as he waved them around. 

Ally pulled him to her again, whispering a soft, “no no no, sweetie. It wasn’t real. They’re not here. They can’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

She waited for his breaths to steady out before pulling away again and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. 

“Do you want a glass of water?” she asked, wiping beads of sweat from his hairline. 

Oz nodded slowly. 

“Alright. Give me one minute. I’ll be right back, okay?”

Another nod. 

“Okay.” Ally pressed a quick kiss to his forehead before turning and nearly jumping out of her skin. 

Lana was leaning in the doorway. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, smiling softly. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Mama…?” Oz questioned uneasily, hands twisting into his comforter. 

“I thought maybe I could help,” Lana continued, half whispering, half mouthing the words. Ally gave her a soft smile. 

“Ozzie,” Ally said, turning back to her son. “This is one of my friends, Ms. Winters. She’s very nice. Can she sit with you while I get your water? I promise you’ll be safe if she’s here.”

A hesitant nod.

“Alright. I’ll be right back.”

Ally squeezed Lana’s arm lightly as she passed, whispering a soft and meaningful “thank you”. She paused in the hallway, watching Lana sit down on Ozzie’s bed.

“You’ve got a lot of clowns in here,” she started, her voice pitched up and playful. Oz nodded, fingers releasing his sheets just so. “You know,” Lana continued, and Ally could tell by the tone of her voice that her nose was scrunched up. “If you want, you can call me Lana Banana.”

Ally heard Ozzie giggle, and then she went to fetch the glass of water. 

When she returned a few minutes later, glass in one hand and his favorite blanket in the other, fresh from the dryer, she could hear the laughter before she had even reached the top of the stairs. 

“But why does he use scissors? Why not something more… clown-like?”

“I don’t know,” Oz giggled. “But look, he has juggling sticks, too.”

Ally turned the corner into his room as Lana shook her head softly, Ozzie grinning and fumbling with the action figure in his hands. She paused in the doorway.

“Hm, I don’t know,” Lana started, finger tapping against the figure’s mask. “This doesn’t seem to add up. Where are the rest of his tricks? Does he only have one act?”

Ozzie shoved at her, cackling. “He’s not a real clown.”

Ally skirted into the room as Lana gave a light, “Oh, I see.” She handed the cup to Ozzie, trading him for the action figure and replacing it on his dresser. 

“Alright, now that’s enough Twisty for tonight. We don’t want to bore Ms. Winters.”

She scrunched her nose, mouthing a soft “it’s fine” as she smiled. 

Oz took a few big gulps of water, and Ally smoothed her hand through his hair. 

“Small sips,” she urged, tapping his hand. One last swallow and he handed the cup back to her. “All finished?” 

Oz nodded. 

“Okay then, say goodnight to Ms. Winters, and don’t forget to thank her for playing with you.” 

He did exactly as he was told, her polite little man, and she couldn’t help but smile as she fluffed up his blanket. Before she could stretch it out, though, Lana had grabbed the other end of it, pulling it across the bed so that it laid perfectly flat. And Ally’s smile wavered at the warmth spreading through her, reminding her just how nice it felt to have someone else there. To help. How nice it felt not to be alone. 

Ozzie wiggled and broke Ally’s thoughts, and only then did she realize she had been staring at Lana. She cleared her throat. 

“Okay mister, time for tucks.”

Oz laughed as Ally tucked his blanket around him over-exaggeratedly, grumbling out “tuck tuck tuck tuck” in her silliest voice. 

A kiss to his forehead, one for his nose, and then she was walking back to the door, Lana right behind her in the hallway as she found the light switch. 

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Ally murmured, flicking the switch off.

She waited for the soft “goodnight, Mama,” before she shut the door. But this time, before it clicked, she also heard a “goodnight, Lana Banana,” and by the way Lana chuckled behind her, Ally knew she had heard it, too. 

She turned, letting out a soft sigh. 

“I can’t thank you enough,” Ally started, making her way to the staircase. “He can be a bit of a handful, but--“

Lana cleared her throat softly and Ally glanced back at her as she made her way down the stairs. And froze mid-step. 

“I-“ Ally tried, brow pushing up at the tears in Lana’s eyes. “Are you alright…?” 

Lana smiled, waving her off and moving to push past her down the stairs. But Ally caught her arms, holding her level on the step. “Lana…?”

And Lana chuckled softly. Ally knew why. It was the first time she had used her first name. And it felt good. It sat warm on her tongue like butter. 

She sniffed again, wiping a tear from the corner of her eye so quickly and delicately that Ally almost missed it. 

“Lana, what’s wrong?” Ally tried again, sliding her hands down her arms and trying to catch her gaze. 

A long moment, and Ally waited, because she could feel Lana warring with herself. Trying to find the right words. 

“Your son is obsessed with a serial killer,” she said. But the way that she said it, like it was funny, with an ironic chuckle laced through her words. 

It split through Ally like lightning. 

“Oh my gosh, Lana. I am so sorry, I wasn’t even thinking. God, why wasn’t I thinking? I can’t even imagine what you— What do you need? Do you want to sit down? Talk about it? Would you like to leave? I would offer to drive you home but I can’t leave Oz—“

Lana pushed her finger against Ally’s lips and she faltered, little electric pulses sparking at the contact. 

“It’s not that,” Lana tried, smiling softly and sniffing against the last of her tears. “It’s that… Your son is obsessed with a serial killer, and I didn’t care.”

Ally blinked at her.

“He was talking to me about Twisty and it should have scared me. It should have brought everything flooding back. But I was so content and happy just to be making him feel better, that it didn’t matter. And I have been waiting so long for this moment to come.” 

She shook her head in disbelief, and then more tears came, her finger falling from Ally’s lips. She giggled over a sob, hand coming up to cover her mouth, ever so proper. And then she choked out a soft “oh, Ally” and Ally let herself smile at the way her name sounded on this woman’s perfectly shaped lips. 

And then Lana kissed her.

Ally froze at the shock that coursed through her body, hands springing off of Lana’s arms. And as quickly as it had happened, Lana pulled away, brow creased and doubt pulling her smile down at the corner. 

“I’m sorry,” she said almost immediately, hands pushing against her cheeks. “I don’t know what came over me, I—“

Ally surged forwards, crushing her lips to Lana’s. A tiny squeak, and then Lana melted under her, moaning as she parted her lips and deepened the kiss. Her hands were in Ally’s hair in seconds, and Ally relished the way that she tugged so lightly, urging her mouth closer. And good lord kissing her felt like filling a mold with molten gold, hot and heavy and brilliant, seeping into every hollow part of her and making her whole. 

Lana made the smallest of sounds, her hand falling to the dip of Ally’s back and pressing her closer. But they were on the stairs and there wasn’t room for both of them to find their footing, so Ally slid her hands over Lana’s waist and tugged her down the steps, one at a time. Nice and slow so that she wouldn’t have to stop kissing her. 

The second they hit the bottom, Lana had her flipped and pinned against the banister. 

Ally cried out before Lana swallowed the sound. “Shh,” she chided between kisses. “I don’t think he’s asleep yet.”

Ally laughed, rolling her eyes. “You’d be surprised.” 

Lana pulled back, quirking a brow. “Is that a risk you want to take?”

“Honestly?” Ally asked, licking her lips as she panted.

“Mhm.” It was more of a hum than a response, and before Ally could blink, Lana’s mouth was on her neck, her fingers scratching up under her shirt. 

Ally fought the urge to let her eyes roll back in her head, grounding herself on the banister digging into her back. All she managed was a small moan. 

“Don’t get in the habit of lying to me,” Lana murmured against her skin, nipping. “That’s never going to end well.” 

Ally’s laugh was smothered by a groan as Lana’s hands slipped down over her ass. 

“Yes,” she breathed, hand coming up to Lana’s hair and holding her against her neck. 

“Yes, what?” 

Another groan. “Yes, I’m willing to take the risk.” 

Lana broke away, pressing a soft kiss to Ally’s lips before nudging their noses together. She smirked. 

“Well, alright then.”

~~~ 

Ally hadn’t replaced the furniture after Ivy was gone. Everyone told her that she should redecorate, should get rid of everything they had shared and start over. A new life. Clean. But Ally had thought that would be too rough on Ozzie, so she had kept almost everything, save wedding photos and some decorations Ivy picked out that Ally absolutely despised. 

And now, pushed deep into her couch as Lana kissed down, down, down her body, she was glad she hadn’t gotten rid of it, because damn it might just be the most comfortable couch on the planet.

It had never been this comfortable with Ivy on top of her. 

Trapping her. 

Ally squeezed her eyes shut, breaths quickening as her hands tightened in Lana’s hair. 

And that was all it took. Just two quick inhales and a slight grip change, and Lana stopped mid-bite, pulling off of Ally just so. 

“Okay,” Lana said softly, resting her chin where her mouth had been, just above Ally’s belly button. She smoothed her hands up Ally’s ribs, sliding her thumbs softly over the dips there. “Okay. It’s okay.” 

And humiliation flooded through Ally as she nodded in agreement. Swallowed hard. Shook her head. 

“It’s nothing,” she tried, letting go of Lana’s hair and flexing her fingers. “Just… Give me a minute.” 

A soft nod. “Okay.”

It was more than a minute, and Ally could feel Lana’s eyes on her. And her thumbs, running so delicately over her ribs, back and forth and back and forth. 

Another attempt at an inhale, but Ally couldn’t get her breath in, the smell of Ivy stuck in her nose and the memory of her so solid on top of her blocking her lungs. Her stomach hitched up with the half-breath, and then Lana was off of her, pulling away and sitting up on the couch. 

“Wait,” Ally started, propping herself up on her elbows, because somehow the cold of the room on her stomach was so much worse, made her feel even more alone. And doubt slammed into her chest when Lana got up off the couch and walked around the coffee table. “Shit.” 

She was just about to cry, just feeling exposed enough and vulnerable enough, cold and open and hell, she hadn’t let anyone take her shirt off since Ivy and it wasn’t—

“Sit up, honey.” 

Lana was standing over Ally, and Ally hadn’t realized she had pushed her hands over her face until Lana’s fingers were prying them down. 

“Sit up.”

Ally did as she was told, propping herself up on her arm and watching as Lana sat down right where her head had been, crossing one leg over the other. She patted her lap, and the smile she offered Ally was so warm, so genuine, that Ally couldn’t help but lay back down. And the way that her head fit in Lana’s lap, the way Lana’s fingers started pulling softly through her hair, Ally brought her hand up to Lana’s knee and traced tiny circles there, breaths steadying out. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Lana tried, scratching lightly at Ally’s scalp.

Ally sighed, staring at the wall. Shook her head. “It’s just that sometimes… Everything comes rushing back and I feel so…” She trailed off, thumb tapping against Lana’s knee.

“Trapped.” 

Ally startled, turning to look at Lana. “Exactly.” 

Lana chuckled, but she swallowed it down, something shadowing her eyes. 

Ally sat up, scooting closer. And after waiting for a sign to stop, watching Lana watch her, listening to the quickening of her breaths, she made the split second decision to straddle her, settling down in her lap. 

“Lana Winters,” she murmured, brow furrowed as she searched Lana’s eyes. And Lana held her gaze, hands settling on her waist. “Who are you?” 

Lana’s fingers tightened as she laughed, really, fully laughed, head thrown back just so. And Ally thought absently that she looked like an angel, her hair half-pulled out of its ponytail, curls dropping over her shoulders, lipstick worn down from kissing and kissing and kissing. Ally wondered if it was trailed across her own neck, over her shoulders, down her stomach. But more than that, she wondered if she could kiss her hard enough and long enough to get every last piece of it off. 

When Lana looked back at her, eyes glittering, Ally grinned. Shifted to ease the throbbing between her legs. And Lana’s breath stuttered. She gulped. 

“I should probably be going,” she murmured, fingers twitching on Ally’s waist. 

Ally shook her head. “Don’t go.” 

Lana chuckled, smiling softly. “It’s late.”

But her hands weren’t moving and her eyes kept flicking to Ally’s mouth, so for the thousandth time that night, Ally made a split second decision and ground down against Lana’s hips, brow raising in a hesitant question. “Don’t go.”

A soft gasp. “Alright, honey.”

“Yeah?”

Lana bit her lip, nodding. “Just for a little while.”

And that’s how Ally found herself here, hands in Lana’s hair as Lana mouthed at her neck and forced Ally down on her thigh over and over again. 

“That’s it,” she murmured against Ally’s skin, and it was hot, everything was so hot with this woman. 

Ally nodded, whining. And Lana had the nerve to giggle. 

“What’s funny?” Ally panted, moaning as Lana flicked her tongue over her pulse point. 

“Nothing,” Lana breathed, tightening her grip on Ally’s waist and forcing her faster. Faster.

And the friction that was building was sparking a volatile heat in Ally’s stomach that was pushing and growing and Ally twisted her fingers tighter in Lana’s hair to keep from completely coming apart. 

“For god’s sakes, Lana, just—“ Lana bit down and Ally cried out, and at the heat of Lana’s tongue over the bite she let out a loud moan. 

Another giggle, and a soft hum. “What do you want, honey?” 

And Ally groaned, practically screaming through her clenched teeth. “Will you just— god, oh god— Lana Winters, I swear if you don’t fuck me right now I’ll—“

Lana crushed her mouth to Ally’s, moaning as their teeth clashed and their tongues fought for dominance. 

“There she is,” she panted, hands finding the band of Ally’s pants and yanking them down. They got caught between them and Lana broke away, brow furrowing as Ally lifted her hips. But it wasn’t enough. 

“Lay down for me, honey?” And the way she asked, so soft and so easy, like she wouldn’t mind if Ally said no. 

Well. 

Ally fell back onto the couch, hands finding the silk of Lana’s shirt and pulling her down on top of her. She was over Ally for seconds before she tugged her pants past her thighs and Ally kicked them all the way off. And then Lana straddled Ally’s waist, wiggling her hips down as she pulled her ponytail out and fluffed out her curls. 

“Oh come on,” Ally groaned, rolling her eyes. “You can’t— That’s not fair.”

“Oh no?” Lana questioned, and she bit down on her finger so seductively that Ally actually felt the heat that was pooling between her legs. She thought for a split second that her couch would be absolutely ruined tomorrow and she may need to buy a new one after all, but then Lana threw her head back and laughed and Ally’s hands gripped into her shirt, rucking it up from where it was tucked into her skirt. 

“Off. Now.” Yanking, tugging, pulling. “Get it off.”

Another laugh. “Yes ma’am.” 

She lifted her arms, letting Ally rip the shirt off of her head before yanking her down on top of her and kissing her until she couldn’t breathe. 

Lana broke away, pushing their foreheads together as she panted. “For a second there I thought you were going to go full bottom on me.”

Ally swallowed. “Is that a problem?” 

Lana hummed over a chuckle, tracing her finger down Ally’s jaw, tapping her chin. “Not if I’m the one that gets to make Miss Senator fall to pieces.”

Ally laughed. “Challenge accepted.”

And Lana bit her lip, nuzzling their noses together. “Oh honey,” she drawled, “it’s not going to be a challenge, believe me.” 

Ally gasped, flushing, and Lana took the opportunity to latch her mouth back to her neck, fingers slipping down over her thighs and scratching lightly. And Ally almost drowned in the feel of it, almost begged. But just as her eyes rolled back in her head and Lana’s mouth opened in that sticky, sticky way, there was a thump.

“Mama…?”

Ally’s eyes flew open and Lana froze, pulling back. Ally caught at her shoulders.

“Don’t move,” she mouthed, acutely aware that she was not wearing any pants and Lana was the only thing covering her. “Please.” 

Lana bit down on a laugh.

“Ozzie? What’s wrong, sweetie?” Ally called, pushing a finger to Lana’s lips.

“I was thirsty,” he said softly. 

“Alright,” Ally tried, throwing a look at Lana as she pushed her tongue against Ally’s finger. “I—“ 

Lana took her finger into her mouth, holding it between her teeth. 

“Um, Oz, just—“ 

Lana sucked, hummed, barely audible, and Ally melted into the vibrations, groaning softly. 

She took a deep breath, forcing her mind back to the present. 

“Ozzie, just— go into the kitchen and grab a cup and I’ll meet you in there, okay?” 

“Okay,” he replied casually, and Ally heard him plod out of the room. 

“Stop it,” Ally started before Lana even had a chance to open her mouth. “You horrible, awful, distracting—“ 

She kept muttering as Lana giggled softly, crawling off of her and retrieving her pants from the floor. She held them out to Ally. Quirked her brow. “Quickly, honey, or he’s going to come back in here.”

Ally huffed, pulling her pants back on and pressing her mouth to Lana’s ear. “You’re dead meat, Winters. Just you wait.” 

But after helping Ozzie with his water in only pants and a bra, tucking him snugly back into bed, and making her way back down the stairs, Ally found Lana standing in the foyer, pulling her blazer on over her shirt. 

Ally stopped in her tracks. “What… are you doing?” 

Lana whipped around, smile breaking through as she finished with the buttons. “It’s late, honey. And I have an early morning tomorrow.” 

Ally nodded, brow raised. “Alright.” 

Lana crossed the room, hand settling on Ally’s chest. Two soft pats. “He’s a sweet kid.” 

“I’m sorry,” Ally tried, frustration flooding through her. “I thought he would stay asleep, but—“

“Hey,” Lana started, pressing a soft kiss to Ally’s lips. “You said you were willing to take the risk. And I knew what I was getting into when I pushed you down onto that couch. Okay?” 

A hesitant smile. A nod. “Okay.” 

Lana kissed her again, lingering as her fingers tapped against Ally’s skin. When she pulled back, she was smirking. “Are you going to be okay if I leave now? You’re not going to combust on me, are you, honey?” 

And Ally chuckled, low and soft in the back of her throat as her hands found Lana’s ass and yanked her against her. “Oh baby, I’ll be just fine. But you still have another thing coming. And don’t you forget it.” 

Lana held her out at arm’s length, eyes raking over her. “We’ll see.” 

They stayed frozen like that for a long moment, and Ally could tell by the way Lana was looking at her that she was warring with herself on something. She waited for Lana to change her mind. To pull her in and kiss her senseless. But after biting her lip and tilting her head, Lana chuckled, hands falling from Ally’s arms. 

Alright then. 

Ally grabbed Lana’s purse for her and opened the door. 

“You still have that morning appointment available tomorrow?” Lana purred, shouldering the bag with a smirk.

Ally quirked her brow. “I may be able to pencil you in.” 

A low laugh and one more light kiss to Ally’s lips. “Oh good. And here I was thinking I wouldn’t have time for breakfast.”

And then she was gone, walking down the drive and leaving Ally standing in the doorway alone, gaping and shaking and absolutely soaked. 

~~~ 

“I told you, we’re not cutting the story. It’s already half-way in print, for heaven’s sake.” 

“I’m not asking you to cut the story,” Ally snapped, arms crossed tight. “All I’m asking is that you cut that one specific part.”

“And I’m telling you no.” 

Ally let out a growl, standing abruptly and bracing her hands on her desk. “God, you are so infuriating! It’s two lines. Just fucking cut it!” 

“Why?” Lana slammed back, spinning on Ally. “Why should I be the one who has to cut my story? Why can’t you let us run this one?” 

“Because I let you have the last one. And the one before that—“

“And the one before that you cut,” Lana argued, smacking her hand down on Ally’s desk. “You have no respect for journalism. If you would just listen—“

“No respect? No respect?!” A flat laugh fell out of Ally’s mouth as she skirted around her desk. “Okay. Let’s talk about respect. Let’s talk about the way you completely went behind my back with that story about the bar? About how you snuck one of your girls into a private city council meeting and then flat out denied it when they called you out?”

She was right on Lana now, towering over her as her chest heaved. 

“I’ll protect my girls. I stand by that and I stand by them.”

Ally glared at her, growling. “You want to try that again?”

But Lana only straightened, arms folding across her chest as she tilted her chin up challengingly. 

Ally huffed and Lana licked over a smirk, fingers tapping on her elbow as the fire in her eyes stoked with her inevitable victory. 

Ally forced herself to turn away, shaking her head out as she took a long breath and pushed her fingers into her temples. “Winters, I swear, sometimes I just—“ 

There was a beat of silence and Ally whipped her head up in the same second she smelled smoke. She groaned. 

“Ms. Winters, can you please not smoke in here? This is a public office.”

Lana raised her brow, sucking on her bottom lip. She held Ally’s gaze, pulling the cigarette to her mouth and taking a long drag. “Sorry,” she drawled, resting her elbow on her arm. “Nasty habit.”

Ally pulled her hands through her hair as she gathered her wits, sitting back at her desk and crossing her legs. Straightened her posture. “I am not going to let you run the full story.”

“I think you will,” Lana countered, sauntering over to the desk. She sat down on the edge of it, dragging on her cigarette.

Ally’s eyes caught on the hem of Lana’s skirt as it inched up her knees, exposing the pink skin there and the annoyingly perfect little dip of her bone, hollow and flushed and— 

She caught herself, digging her teeth into her bottom lip and forcing her eyes back to Lana’s face. And the way she had her cigarette caught between her teeth, the way her lipstick stained the edge of it, the way her fingers twitched on it as her lip quirked up at the corner, Ally had to force herself to sort her thoughts, running over arguments and counterarguments, categorizing them and ordering them and building a wall of a defense against the way Lana was cockily skimming through the papers on her desk. 

The nerve of it all, mixed with the way she distinctly felt like she was losing again, had Ally practically vibrating. Her fingers pushed into the arms of her chair as Lana caught her eye, something softening under her gaze as she quirked a brow and covered a smirk with another drag on her cigarette. 

Ally stared her down, jaw setting as her resolve strengthened. Lana tilted her head, and Ally forced herself to match her, not letting herself register the depth of Lana’s gaze or the way her brows pulled together and she licked over her incisor. 

Frustration bubbled up the back of Ally’s throat, pushing against her teeth as she clenched them. She struggled to hold onto it, to keep the words from snaking past her lips. To center herself and stand her ground. It was her office. It was her decision. And Lana couldn’t just march into her day and flip it on its head. 

Lana shifted, crossing one leg over the other as her heel clicked against the side of Ally’s desk. Her skirt shifted higher and it was just edging on being indecent, and as Ally held Lana’s gaze she could have sworn she saw Lana push her tongue into her cheek. And that, mixed with the predatory sparkle reflected in Lana’s eyes, had the last fraction of Ally’s patience pulled to snapping, teetering right on the edge of screaming and gnashing teeth and throwing something. Hard. 

So instead, she squeezed her knees. Took a deep breath. Met Lana’s eyes. 

“You know what? You’re right. I did change my mind. Now, instead of just cutting two lines, I’m cutting the whole thing. Congratulations.”

“What?”

“It’s not appropriate and it’s not a good story and I’m not going to let it run in this city’s newspaper.”

Lana scoffed. Blinked. “I’m sorry, did you just tell me that it wasn’t a good story?”

Ally quirked a brow challengingly. “Do you have a problem with that, Ms. Winters?”

And then Lana was up, pacing and waving her cigarette as she gesticulated. “Do you even hear yourself? You are in no way qualified to tell me that this isn’t a good story. Insult me, fine. Insult my talent, fine. But so help me, if you ever insult journalism again—“

“Get out of my office,” Ally said firmly, fire in her eyes. 

“What?”

“I said get out of my office. This meeting is over. Your request is denied.” 

Lana paused mid-step. “Senator, please. We’re already halfway in print. If you would just let me—“

But Ally stood, her voice pitching higher to counter Lana’s. “I said no, Winters! I have work to finish and papers to attend to and a city to run. So like I said before, I need you out of my office. Now.”

“Senator—“ Lana tried again, brows creased down the middle. But Ally cut her off. 

“Good day, Ms. Winters.” 

Lana growled in frustration, practically screaming through clenched teeth. “I swear you’re going to be the absolute death of me, Allyson Mayfair-Richards.” 

And as Ally watched her bend over and snatch her purse off of the chair, watched her skirt lift just so and caught a glimpse of those little purple-red marks high up on the backs of her thighs, her mouth watered. And the memory of the sounds Lana had made when Ally had sucked them there — the way her fingers had tightened in Ally’s hair as Ally smirked against her skin, hot and flushed and smelling like cigarettes — mixed with the way Ally’s full name fell off of her perfect lips, bubbling up and melting like honey even when she was angry, had Ally seriously considering the possibility that Lana Winters just might be the absolute death of her, too.