#fyi when travelers get brought into town

[wolftracked]

mornings  were  still  his  favorite  time  of  the  day;  he  could  just  enjoy  the  peace  &  quiet  (well,  compared  to  the  big  city  anyway)  of  a  small  town,  drink  his  coffee  &  prepare  for  a  long,  tedious  day  at  the  headquarters  of  new  haven's  search  party  department.  he  founded  it,  so  it  wasn't  like  he  could  blame  anybody  but  himself.  after  his  early  morning  run,  elias  got  himself  a  big  mug  of  coffee  to  go  &  flopped  down  on  one  of  the  benches  at  the  square.

he  knew  most  of  the  faces  in  town;  he  set  up  their  files  for  the  registry.  he  didn't  remember  all  the  names,  but  this  one  ..  he  surely  did.  recent.  "the  jacket  definitely  completes  the  look."  he  huffs  with  a  little  laugh  on  his  lips.  bad  boys  in  leather  jackets?  oh  yeah.  he  did  not  have  good  history  with  those,  but  it  was  an  alluring  look  nonetheless.  "you  seem  to  adjusting  quite  well."

For: Open to Everyone

Location: Mercury Windwhisper Square

This new world took a lot more getting used to than the one he had left behind, let along the secluded cloister of dragonbloods he had grown up in. So much noise- so many things to see. It was a bit overwhelming at times. At the very least he liked the clothes, they were much more comfortable.

"So how do I look? Be honest. I think the jacket might be a bit much but I was told it 'completed the look' whatever that means."

[vilevenom]

New chapter for "Together Burning Bright"! This one is a ~flashback~ chapter. Specifically, Hickory's birthday party, when he and JD got together the first time. This particular scene has been rotating around my brain since I wrote "Let's Be Us Again", but it didn't really fit in the main story, so now you get a +4K word fic of just that, all on its own, lol This chapter is just a touch spicy. It's gonna bump the AO3 rating to 'M', so just an fyi. Nothing is explicitly described, but it's hella obvious as to what they're doing. Enjoy!

A trolls twenty-first birthday was a special one. At least, for the yodelers it was. It was considered a coming of age celebration, and it was when trolls were encouraged to take on more responsibility within the community. It was also when the biggest birthday parties were thrown.

As the community hall was the largest indoor space in the village, it was most commonly used to host such large events, to avoid the cold of the mountain. Flowers adorned nearly every feasible surface, and tables ladened with food were pushed up against the walls. Streamers and twinkle lights hug from the ceiling, while nearly every troll in town was crammed onto the main floor, singing, dancing and carrying on in celebration.

Nearly, being the key word. One troll with teal hair and a distinct pair of green goggles stood to the side with a lazy smile, drink in hand as he watched the party carry on. John Dory had, unfortunately, missed the beginning of the party. He'd been guilted into going, even somewhat late, by the trolls who were hosting his stay in the village. They'd told him it was bad luck for the birthday troll in question for someone to willingly not attend, so he made a little fuss about it but followed along shortly behind them to the party. He'd honestly just wanted to go to bed and sleep, but a party was a party, he supposed. And as a pop troll, he'd been told many times over the years that he should love parties, much to his chagrin.

He idly sipped at his drink as he watched trolls nearly trip over themselves as they swayed across the dance floor. He did have to hand one thing to the yodelers; they made a mean fermented nectar. The cup in his hand was definitely stronger than the strange yeasty concoction the rock trolls had made him try. From said experience, he knew better than to drink too much, or too quickly. He was not keen on a repeat performance, if he was going to be honest with himself.

Truthfully, he was planning on staying just long enough for a majority of the attendees to get a little silly, before slipping back out to the house he was staying at. He'd figured, since he didn't know who the party was even for, and he'd made an appearance to appease his superstitious hosts, that no one would fault him for wanting to get some rest. He'd only managed to get into town the day before, after all.

What John Dory did not expect was for a tall troll to suddenly appear next to him, lean a hand on the wall, and tilt into John's personal space with a little smirk on his face.

~

Hickory hadn't expected anything for his birthday. His parents were long gone, his brother had disappeared on a job of some sort for who knew how long, and he was old enough now that he wasn't even living with anyone who would potentially take notice. So, he'd been more than a little surprised when his friends had offered to host a party for him at the community hall.

It seemed like everyone in town had turned out, bringing food and drink to share. They'd adorned him in a flower crown and accessories made of dried flowers, while everyone wished him a happy birthday and good luck in the coming years. The reveal of the large five tiered cake his friends had baked for him had nearly brought him to tears. He truly felt like he was the luckiest troll in the world.

"Hey, hey! Who's that?"

"Oh. That's the troll staying with us. He's a traveling pop troll. I guess he's been here before, because…"

Hickory let the voices of his friends fade into the background as they prattled on next to him. Scratch his previous thought, now he felt like the luckiest troll in the world. John Dory, the troll he had been crushing on for the last four years, who he'd thought he'd never see again, was leaning against the wall. At his party! A thrill ran up his spine, making his fur practically stand on end.

"I'm going to go talk to him," Hickory stated, pressing his half finished cup idly into the hand of one of his friends.

"What? Why? Wait…No way, Hickory. That can't possibly be the same troll."

"The one I would not stop talking to you about a couple of years ago? It most definitely is," he said with a nod, fussing with his hair and straightening out his suspenders.

"Ooo, get some, Hickory," one of his friends jeered, earning an eye roll from Hickory.

He waved as his friends started to get rowdy, quickly walking away from them while trying to keep a flush from forming on his cheeks. He hadn't seen John in nearly four years, and they had only spent a couple of months together at the time. Would he even remember? Well, Hickory reasoned, you missed one hundred percent of the shots you didn't take.

He sauntered up to John Dory and placed his hand on the wall next to the pop trolls head before leaning into his space with a smirk. "Guten abend."

John looked up at him, confusion clear on his face. Hickory felt like an idiot. He tipped himself back up to stand upright, letting out a nervous laugh. "Sorry. You don't speak german, do you?"

"Can't say that I do, no," John said, arching an eyebrow at Hickory. "Can I help you?"

Hickory cleared his throat, already feeling like this was going poorly. "I said 'good evening'," he fumbled, suddenly wishing he hadn't handed off his drink so he would at least have something to do with his hands. "I, uhh…you're alone."

John's expression went from confusion to disinterest almost immediately. "Yes. I am. And, if you don't mind, I was actually pretty okay with that situation."

Hickory bristled, wincing at the clear dismissal, but he couldn't just let John slip through his fingers like this. "We met! Before! Sorry, I'm making a mess of this," he quickly babbled, fiddling with one of the floral bracelets he'd been gifted, "I showed you around the last time you visited the village."

John stared at him for a moment, before realization slowly dawned on his face. He stood up straight from the wall, giving Hickory a cursory once over, gaping slightly. "Hickory?!"

Hickory let out a quiet breath, a wobbly little smile on his face as he gave a short nod. "That's right."

"You got tall!"

That startled a snort of laughter out of Hickory. "Ja, and older," he added, waving vaguely at the party. John looked dumbfounded for a moment, glancing around before his gaze snapped back to the yodeler.

"This is your party? Oh, man. Happy birthday!" John said, giving Hickory a friendly punch to the shoulder.

"Thank you," Hickory chuckled, rubbing at the spot that John had hit. "I don't imagine my birthday is what brought you back to town?"

John laughed, shaking his head a little as he leaned back against the wall. "Nah. Not that the party isn't great! But, I just got board with the classical trolls. I kinda vaguely remembered where this place was, and I wanted to come back for another visit. Got a little lost in the mountains for a couple of days, though. I have to admit, I'm a bit exhausted and I only came to the party because I got guilt tripped." John paused as he noticed the somewhat crestfallen expression that flitted over Hickory's face, before a smile was forced back onto it.

"Well, don't let me keep you! You should not feel obligated to stay if you would rather be in bed," Hickory offered, taking a short step back from John.

"Wait, hey, no," John stood back up, reaching out to catch Hickory's wrist. He offered a soft smile to the other, nodding towards the door. "I know this is your party, but why don't we step outside. I'm tired, but I'd love to catch up with you?"

Hickory returned the smile with a genuine one of his own, giving a short nod. He pulled his wrist free of John's hold, only to take his hand properly with a quiet, "I would love that." He turned and began to lead John through the crowd, while doing his best to ignore the cat calls that followed the two of them out.

"Sorry," Hickory muttered once they were outside, his breath puffing up in a tiny cloud in front of him. "My friends can be a bit…lewd."

"Hey, no worries," John said, walking along next to Hickory as they trundled through the snow towards a couple of benches just outside the community hall, "Pop trolls have a reputation, I've been told."

"It is a ridiculous reputation to have, since you are one of the only pop trolls that has even been through town in the last two decades," Hickory scoffed, only to flush in embarrassment at the look John shot him. "I just…it's not right. To make those sort of presumptions. Do you not agree?"

"Oh, I fully agree. It's just kinda nice to have someone else share the sentiment," John admitted, a grin forming on his face. "So," he flopped down to sit on the bench once they reached it, setting his cup on the ground, "What've you been up to since I was last here?"

Hickory eagerly took the seat next to John, and the two began to talk. Once Hickory had caught John up on the relatively uneventful list of things that had occurred in the village, John began to regale Hickory with tales of his travels, which the yodeler took in eagerly. He gasped and cheered in all of the appropriate places, peppering in the odd question to get John to elaborate on details, while John sprung from his seat to enact some of the more daring acts from his time on the Neverglade Trail. After a particularly energetic performance, John fell back onto the bench next to Hickory, quiet pants leaving a trail of wispy condensation in the air behind him.

"Your life sounds fantastic," Hickory hummed, watching John catch his breath with a dopey little smile on his face.

"It's pretty great," John grinned up at Hickory from where he was half laying on the bench.

"I wish I could have adventures like that," Hickory admitted quietly, picking at one of the blooms on his bracelet.

"What's stopping you?" John pushed himself to sit up, leaning into Hickory, "It's your life. And you're old enough now. Heck, you've been old enough for a while. I was eighteen when I went out on my own."

Hickory shrugged, a sardonic little smile on his face. "My brother, mostly. Even though he's not even here right now. But, truthfully? I am not brave enough, I don't think."

"Sure you are! You just gotta put your mind to it," John said encouragingly, nudging Hickory's shoulder with his own.

"No," Hickory shook his head, "I'm a coward."

"Hey, come on. Start small, then. Baby steps. Pick something little that you're scared to do, and just do it!" John grabbed Hickory's knee and gave it a little shake. "I believe in you."

Hickory looked down at the hand on his knee for a moment, before turning his gaze up to John Dory's face. He was smiling brightly at Hickory, open and reassuring in a way very few trolls had ever been to the yodeler. He swallowed thickly, placing his hand over John's, and hoping the pop troll would blame the cold for the flush that adorned his cheeks. "Just…go for it?" he reaffirmed, licking his lips nervously as John nodded encouragingly, "Okay."

To John's credit, he only startled slightly as Hickory leaned into his space and pressed their lips together. It was chaste, and short, but that didn't stop his face from heating up.

"I'm not too young, now," Hickory murmured against John's mouth, his eyes kept shut to save himself from any unsavory expression the pop troll may be making.

"You…what?" John sounded dazed.

"I'm not too young. You told me last time that I was too young, but I'm not anymore." He lifted both hands to cup John's cheeks and press a more determined kiss to the pop trolls lips. He very nearly pulled away, until John began to reciprocate the kiss.

They broke apart from each other after a moment, their breath mingling and turning into delicate fog between them.

"This isn't because-" John began, only to be muffled by Hickory peppering a couple quick, short kisses to his lips.

"No! No, of course not. I told you, I think that is ridiculous. No. It's because I have not been able to get you out of my mind since we last met. And I feel like this, you appearing on my birthday, is nothing short of a sign from the universe for me to at least try," Hickory admitted, letting his fingers lightly trail from John's cheeks, over his shoulders and down to his hands. He finally sat back and opened his eyes to find a flustered looking John Dory sat before him. "You did encourage me to be brave, after all."

John chuckled, a lopsided grin on his face. "I suppose I did, didn't I?"

"You did," Hickory nodded, before he stood from the bench, offering a hand to John. "Come with me."

"Where to?" John asked, not hesitating in the slightest in taking Hickory's hand and standing from the bench.

"Home," Hickory stated simply, leading John through the village.

It was a relatively quick walk through town, especially as most trolls were still at Hickory's party. Hickory lead them to a small, modest house towards the edge of the village. It was adorned with the same floral trim pattern along the awnings that all of the other buildings in the village had, with a well cared for little yard, and a short wooden fence surrounding the property.

As Hickory opened the gate and began to pull John up the short path to the door, the pop troll paused, tugging back on Hickory. "Wait."

Hickory stopped, turning around quickly with a look of worry on his face. "What is it?" he asked, tone concerned.

"I think I remember you mentioning…you have a brother? Does he live here?" John asked, looking towards the door apprehensively.

"Oh," Hickory visibly relaxed, a low chuckle leaving him, "Dickory, yes. He does live here, but he is not in town right now. I'm by myself."

John gave a little nod, nerves leaving him as Hickory tugged him the rest of the way up the path and into the house. He only paused once to wipe his feet on a large mat near the front door, encouraging John to do the same, before he continued to lead the pop troll through the house. He only let go once they had entered a sparsely decorated bedroom, and the door was shut behind them.

"Nice digs," John commented idly, looking around the room briefly, before he found himself being pushed back into the door, Hickory's hands slipping under his vest to trail over his chest.

"I can think of much more interesting things than my bedroom," Hickory chuckled, pressing a kiss to John's cheek.

"Gettin' right to it then, huh?" John joked, lifting his hands to rest gently over Hickory's hips.

"Is that…not okay?" Hickory asked, shifting back slightly but not lifting his hands from John's fur. If this was the only chance he had to soak up the pop trolls presence and touch him, he was going to take advantage of every moment he could.

"Never said it wasn't. You just seem real eager," John teased, easy grin on his face.

"I have waited four years to be able to touch you," Hickory murmured, pressing in close to John while pushing the pop trolls vest from his shoulders, "You will need to forgive my eagerness."

John's grin faltered, his well practiced boy band charm guttering at Hickory's words. "You weren't kidding about that?"

"Kidding about what?" Hickory asked, distracted as he tugged the vest free and tossed it aside.

"Thinking about me. For all that time."

Hickory paused, frowning as he tipped his head back to get a look at the almost hopeful expression on John's face. "Why would I ever joke about something like that? The time we spent together meant a great deal to me. You mean a great deal to me."

"You don't even really know me," John said with a short shake of his head.

"Then let me?"

John stared up at Hickory for a moment, taking in the flower crown that sat askew on his head and the earnest expression he wore on his face as he waited patiently for John's response. He swallowed thickly, before giving a small nod, digging his fingers more firmly into Hickory's hips and pulling him in close. "Okay."

The brilliant grin that John got in return for his consent nearly made him dizzy. He gasped as Hickory ducked his head and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, slowly sinking to his knees as he trailed kisses down John's chest and stomach. He let his head fall back and hit the door with a dull thud, groaning quietly as Hickory all but worshipped him.

As Hickory reached John's hip he paused, tilting his head back to look up at John imploringly. "Is this okay?"

John tipped his head forward, letting out a slow breath as he lifted his hands to tangle his fingers in the yodeler's hair, dislodging the flower crown and causing it to fall to the floor. "More than," he murmured, momentarily distracted as the crown rolled across the room, only to snap his attention back to Hickory with a soft hiss as the yodeler tugged at his shorts and continued his trail of kisses down.

~

"You okay?" John asked, a lopsided grin on his face. The two had eventually migrated to Hickory's bed, where John currently found himself devoid of any of his clothes, laid back in a pile of pillows with a rather flustered looking Hickory between his knees.

"Es tut mir leid," Hickory murmured, licking his lips quickly as he sat back on his heels, "To be truthful, I have never done this before."

"Seriously?" John asked, stretching his arms above his head, grinning a little as he watched Hickory's eyes trail down over his chest. "Strapping young troll like yourself? I find that hard to believe."

"It's true," Hickory said with a self depreciating little laugh, "I think you are the first troll to ever use the word 'strapping' to describe me."

"Aw," John cooed, sitting up and taking Hickory's face in his hands, "Well, I think you're real handsome." He grinned as Hickory flushed, quickly taking the opportunity to kiss the yodeler deeply. When they broke apart, while Hickory was looking a little overwhelmed, John pushed him down into the pillows, swinging his leg over the yodeler to settle in his lap. "Let me take care of you now, okay?" He preened as Hickory's hands settled on his hips, fingers digging in slightly.

"All right."

~

Hickory wondered if this was what it was like to be in paradise. The troll of his dreams was in his lap, a dark flush coloring his cheeks as he panted, looking absolutely lost in the moment as he moved above Hickory. "You are so beautiful," he murmured, reaching up to cup John's jaw. The pop troll looked momentarily startled by the sentiment, only to let out a low moan and sweep down to catch Hickory's lips in a kiss.

"You're not too bad, yourself," John teased as he pulled back, earning a light chuckle from Hickory and a roll of his hips that left John gasping.

~

John huffed as he rolled off of Hickory, flopping back into the mound of pillows next to the yodeler. He looked rather pleased with himself, while Hickory stared up at the ceiling in a daze, both trying to catch their breath.

"That was…"

"Not too bad, huh?" John chuckled, turning his head to smirk at Hickory.

The yodeler blinked, turning his head slowly to frown at John. "Not too bad? John, that was…absolut vollkommen. You were - that was incredible," Hickory stated, pushing himself up onto his elbow to lean over the pop troll. "This was the best birthday I could have ever hoped for."

John's smirk melted into a genuine smile at Hickory's earnestness, reaching up to brush his fingers through wavy orange hair. "I'm glad I could make it memorable."

"The most memorable," Hickory agreed, leaning down to press a kiss to John's lips. He shifted and squirmed amongst the pillows until he managed to maneuver himself over John, pressing in between the pop trolls knees, somehow without breaking their kiss. When he did finally pull back, John let out a low chuckle, arching an eyebrow at Hickory.

"Again?"

Hickory flushed in embarrassment, gasping quietly as John wriggled his hips. "I…only if you'd like to…?"

John snorted, lifting a leg to wrap around Hickory's hips, tugging him close as he stretched his arms above his head and arched his back. "Only if you do all the work this time."

~

When John woke up in the morning it was to an empty bed. He grunted as he felt around the covers, finding the blankets cold. He scowled as he smacked his hands over his face, groaning as he rubbed at his eyes. He should have known better. This was not the first time someone had managed to sweet talk him into bed and then fled in the morning. It was, admittedly, a bit odd that Hickory had taken him back to his house, instead of where John was staying, but perhaps there was some unspoken rule between yodelers that one simply got up and left without a fuss the morning after a fling. He had hoped Hickory would be different, but who was he kidding. He was a washed up ex-boyband member, and because he was a pop troll a lot of other trolls seemed to think he was some sort of traveling strumpet.

He sighed as he spread his arms out over the expanse of the bed, frowning as he began to notice the faint ache in his hips, and the odd way some of his fur was sticking to his skin. As soon as he got back to where he was staying, he was taking a long, hot shower. But first, he needed to get there. He let out another grunt as he rolled out of bed, wincing as he stepped on his discarded goggles. He muttered a quiet curse to himself as he picked them up, cleaning them off with a blanket, and giving them a quick inspection to find them relatively unscathed. He slipped them on his head, before hunting around for his vest and shorts.

John had managed to pull on his shorts and was trying to figure out where Hickory had tossed his vest last night, when the bedroom door began to open. He stopped short as Hickory walked in with a soft little smile on his face, carrying a tray ladened with assorted breakfast foods. Hickory froze when he noticed John standing in the middle of the room, his smile turning into a confused frown.

"Mein liebling…? Did you need to go somewhere this morning?"

John simply stared at Hickory for a long moment, his brain needing the time to register that Hickory had not, in fact, run off on him. That he had, instead, made him breakfast, and brought it to him in bed.

"I…" John began, watching as the confusion on Hickory's face slowly shifted into realization, then resigned understanding. It suddenly felt like a weight was on John's chest as he watched Hickory set the tray aside, a sad little smile on his face as he shuffled across the room to tug John's vest from beneath a few pillows that had been shoved off the bed the night before.

"Here," Hickory offered the vest to John, tucking the thumb of his free hand into the waistband of the sleep pants he was wearing, "I take it you were looking for this?"

John took the vest, but was hesitant to put it on. He held it to his chest instead, tipping his head slightly to try and catch Hickory's gaze, but the yodeler was looking anywhere but directly at him.

"Hickory, I…" John floundered, not knowing what to say to fix the hurt look on Hickory's face. He was supposed to be a lyrical wordsmith, but his mind was drawing an absolutely blank.

"It's okay, schatz," Hickory said, shaking his head and gesturing towards the door. "I understand. And I am so very happy that I could have the time with you that I did. I don't regret it. And I hope you don't, either."

John felt like he'd been sucker punched in the gut. This sweet troll, who'd confessed to thinking about him for nearly four years and had showered him with nothing but compliments and sweet nothings all night, honestly thought John would regret spending the night with him. He dropped his vest and stepped quickly across the room, cupping Hickory's cheeks so he could force the yodeler to look at him. He wanted to kick himself at finding tears in Hickory's eyes.

"No! No, no, Hickory," John brushed his thumbs against the yodelers cheeks, finding his walls quickly crumbling at the way Hickory's expression turned a little hopeful, "I'm sorry. I thought you had left. I wouldn't've…If I'd known you were making me breakfast, I…" He cursed under his breath, squeezing Hickory's cheeks gently, earning a sound of confusion from the yodeler. John cussed again, a little louder this time, before stating quickly, "Can we try this again?"

Hickory gently extracted his face from John's hold, frowning slightly. "Try what again?"

Instead of answering, John picked up the breakfast try and pushed it into Hickory's hands, before ushering the yodeler back out the door. "Here. Wait, like, a minute. Okay? Just…one minute, and then come in again."

Hickory stumbled slightly as he was pushed out the door, turning with his mouth open to speak, only to find the door shut in his face.

Meanwhile, John hurried to slip his shorts back off and toss his goggles to the side, clamoring onto the bed quickly. He arranged the bedding just so around himself, managing to flop back into the pillows and hoping it came off as somewhat alluring, just as Hickory began to open the door again.

Hickory poked his head in first, still looking confused, only for a smile to bloom on his face as John made an exaggerated yawning sound and stretched across the pillows.

"Oh! Did you make breakfast?" John asked, propping his cheek up on the palm of his hand, a coy little smile on his face as Hickory walked across the room and set the tray on the bedside table.

"Ja. I thought, after last night, you might need the energy," Hickory teased easily back, sitting on the edge of the bed. He reached out to pick something off the tray, but paused as John's hand landed on his wrist. He turned his head, letting out a startled little moan as John surged up to press a kiss to his lips.

"Join me?" John asked as he broke the kiss, patting at the pillow next to him.

Who was Hickory to deny such a request? He stood from the bed to slip his sleep pants off before crawling under the covers with John, a pleased little smile on his face as the pop troll draped himself over his lap.

"Now… Feed me," John all but demanded, gesturing vaguely at the breakfast tray. Hickory snorted at the demand, but obliged, snagging a berry from the tray and feeding it to John, who made a show of licking his lips and moaning lowly while he ate.

"Oh," Hickory breathed, offering John another berry, only to find his fingers being drawn into the pop trolls mouth with another self satisfied moan. He swallowed thickly as he pulled his fingers free to reach for the tray again, only to be stopped as John sat up and properly sat himself in Hickory's lap. He blinked owlishly up at the pop troll, who simply grinned down at him.

"Again?" John teased, squeezing his knees around Hickory's hips.

"Yes, please."

[fandomstars]

Fairly Odd Pokemon

Warning: Mentions of neglect/child endangerment. Also, this is a long headcanon thing fyi.

* = Shiny Pokémon

M = Male F = Female G= Genderless

*Insert move* -> *insert move* = Can use both (Like a power level dynamic. Example, using water gun in small fires, and can transition to hydro pump for big fires. Can alternate between both no problem (well more energy needed for hydro pump in comparison but still). Counts as one move though.)

Also, this is an AU where Timmy is the protagonist instead of Ash. Also, all of Ash's travel companions are replaced by FOP characters. And this takes place in Unova (since it's close to the US, right?), with Dimmsdale just on the outside border of the region. Also, yes other region Pokémon appear, all but Galar and Alola. Why? Maybe some magic got involved long ago to make it happen. ;)

Plus, Poof is the older of him and Timmy in this AU.

And yes, the evil Pixies team is named after LOR dragon Smaug. Reason is Pixies are money makers, and I figured what better name for their evil team than of a treasure/gold hoarding dragon? Meanwhile Team Mishap is the Anti-Fairies, whom unlike Pixies, don't hide them being the bad guys at all.

A Summary (if possible/needed): In the small town of Dimmsdale, 10-year-old Timmy can finally become an official Pokémon trainer. Though throughout his journey, he will have to face the evil Team Mishap (Anti-Fairies) and Team Smaug (Disgusted as the business corporation Pixie Inc.). Making friends, making enemies, all while trying to become the very best and make a name for himself? The world really isn't going to make it easy is it.

Characters:

Timmy

Gary

AJ

Chester

Tad

Chad

Trixie

Veronica

Tootie

Elmer

Sanjay

Poof

Foop

More possibly to be added...depends on if you guys want more (request in inbox of possible oneshots/headcanons for this and all characters! Pokemon included!)

———-

Bios:

Name: Timmy Turner Fairywinkle-Cosma

Age: 10

Occupation: Pokémon trainer / Gym challenger / Coordinator

Hair color / Style: Light Brown and spiky

Eye color: Blue

Outfits:

Regular - Pink t-shirt, blue jeans, and matching blue sneakers

Contest - Light blue tuxedo with matching tie, blue mask, black dress shoes, and fingerless white gloves

Training - White kung-fu outfit with pink, green, and purple striped belt

Facial features: Buck two front teeth

Other: Has a small facial scar on the bottom of his chin

Backstory: It happened when he and Gary were four, their mother and father just happened leave them at the camping site and drove off home. Lost and scared, the two mistakenly took a hallow tree as a resting place, when it was a Beedrill nest (luckily said mons were sleepy still, and simply dazed out. But that didn't stop some, as those Beedrill had the move Sleep Talk and or Snore.). They ran off screaming, but before they ran into a Pokémon ranger, they fell into a ravine where they got said scar. Getting said scar, Gary with a mere identical one on his chin too, were brought to a nearby hospital where local police came to investigate. So, the CPS later is called, and the twins are dropped off at Wanda and Cosmo's for the night, to later being adopted and living permanently there once the forms were done and their 'parents' were imprisoning for child abandonment and other crimes.

Personality: He's overall a very caring individual, at least those closest to him. Around strangers he's a bit cold, due to lack of trust of many people compared to Pokémon, especially adults. He only at first, was kindhearted and open to his godparents, twin and godbrothers. Then later A.J. and Chester. Sometimes he can get a little into his head and turn selfish in case of popularity. Thankfully, Gary is the one who is able to pull him back and get his head straight. He's very protective though of those he cares for, especially Pokémon.

Hometown: Dimmsdale

Starter: Totodile (Nicknamed Chomps) (Professor Juniper got a switch up with new starters that year, and so the twins got different starters of different regions)

Family:

Mrs. Turner (Estranged)

Mr. Turner (Estranged)

Wanda Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godmother / Adopted Mom)

Cosmo Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godfather / Adopted Dad)

Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godbrother / Adopted Older Brother / Older twin of Foop)

Foop Anthony Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godbrother / Adopted Older Brother / Younger twin of Poof)

Gary Fairywinkle-Cosma (but just goes by Gary cause the last name doesn't sound "cool") (Twin brother) (Older by 1 minute)

Best Friends: A.J. and Chester (Also traveling with)

Acquittances: Sanjay and Elmer

Rivals: Tad, Chad, Remy, Tootie, Trixie (not to her acknowledgement), and Francis

Enemies: Teams Mishap (Anti-fairies), Team Smaug (Pixies), and Vicky

Possible Love Interest: Trixie / Remy (not till way later, and not until he gets over his crush on Trixie..so awhile)

Pokémon Team:

Nickname -> Pokemon -> Ability -> Moves

Chomps | Totodile -> Croconaw -> Feraligatr | Torret | Agility, Bite -> Crunch, Dragon Claw, Rain Dance, Aerial Ace, Water Gun -> Hydro Pump, Metal Claw, and Shadow claw

Ace | Weedle -> Kakuna -> Beedrill | Swarm | Pin Missle, Poison Jab, Agility, Brick Break, Aerial Ace, Swords Dance, Sleep Talk, and Double Team

Hevy | Phanpy -> Donphan | Sturdy | Rollout, Earthquake, Slam, Hidden Power, Stone Edge, Fire fang, Ice Shard, and Iron Defense

Thorn* | Egg -> Eevee -> Leafeon | Chlorophyll | Razor Leaf -> Magical Leaf, Bite -> Crunch, Swords Dance, Quick Attack, Facade, Energy Ball, Iron Tail, and Shadow Ball

Cleft | Pikachu -> Raichu (Alola) | Lightning Rod | Agility -> Quick Attack -> Double Team, Thunderbolt -> Thunder, Mega kick -> Mega Punch, Psychic, Dig, Iron Tail, and Grass Knot

Ally | Slyveon (twin of Gary’s) | Pixilate |

———-

Name: Gary Turner Fairywinkle-Cosma (Goes by just Gary since it sounds 'mysterious/cool' without any last name. Only uses it for documents, tournament sign ups, and with family.)

Age: 10

Occupation: Pokémon trainer / Gym challenger

Hair color / Style: Black and grease style

Eye color: Blue

Outfits:

Regular - Red coat, white t-shirt, blue navy pants and blue sneakers, also wears a pair of black shades

Training - White tank top and matching pants, with a green and pink belt with purple highlights

Facial features: Buck two front teeth

Other: Small scar on the bottom of his chin

Personality: He tries very hard to look and be cool wherever he goes, but it's really a shell of whom he really is, and only Timmy and his Pokémon know for a long while. Not that he doesn't get cocky or arrogant sometimes, but he's more mellow more than anything. Despite being the same age, he's very protective of Timmy, and such events to trigger this can actually break the arrogant shell he holds. He's been like such since the Beedrill incident. He's also secretly a nerd but hides his high intelligence with sass (or with sass if needed). But in private, likes to geek out with Timmy of their favorite Pokémon and trainers in the world.

Hometown: Dimmsdale

Starter: Chimchar (Nicknamed Jazz)

Family:

Mrs. Turner (Estranged)

Mr. Turner (Estranged)

Wanda Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godmother / Adopted Mom)

Cosmo Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godfather / Adopted Dad)

Poof Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godbrother / Adopted Older Brother / Older twin of Foop)

Foop Anthony Fairywinkle-Cosma (Godbrother / Adopted Older Brother / Younger twin of Poof)

Timmy Fairywinkle-Cosma (or 'Tim Tim') (Twin brother) (Younger by 1 minute)

Best Friend (s): Timmy, Foop, A.J., and Chester (latter two redundant to admit)

Acquittances: Remy and Trixie

Rivals: Tad, Chad, Remy, and Francis

Enemies: Teams Mishap, Team Smaug, Francis, Vicky, and anyone who hurts his family

Possible Love Interest (s): Kinda flirts with anyone, but secretly has a crush on either Chad, A.J., or Trixie (he kinda flirts so much, that he has no idea what is genuine till later on.) 

Pokémon Team:

Nickname -> Pokemon -> Ability -> Moves

Jazz | Chimchar -> Monferno -> Infernape | Blaze | Mach Punch -> Close Combat, Ember -> Fire Spin -> Fire Blast, Flame Wheel -> Flame Charge -> Flare Blitz, Iron Tail, Dual Chop, Shadow Claw, Stone Edge, Acrobatics, and Attract

*Maximus | Weedle -> Kakuna -> Beedrill | Sniper | Pin Missile

Gladiator | Scraggy -> Scrafty | Moxie |

Titan | Krokorok -> Krookodile | Intimidate |

Ivy | Mienfoo -> Mienshao | Inner Focus |

Luna | Egg -> Eevee -> Umbreon | Synchronize |

In Rotation:

*Crystal | Sylveon | Cute Charm | Charm, Quick Attack, Swift, Moonblast, Detect, Dig, Psyshock, and Shadow Ball

[cloveroctobers]

OCTOBER PROMPTS 🎃 — 6. Joe

A/N: because the love I have for Raymond is consistently growing and it’s Scorpio szn (his szn) so why not? Although I’m not sure if Joe fits into the Scorpio vibe…those that care what do you think? Anyways he’s on the list so here’s this *GASPS* short thing and I can’t wait to see him (mainly) next season!

PROMPT is from HERE + I’m using: A notices B’s porch light off, so A knocks on the door anyway to pull them out of their boredom to persuade B to come join the fun.

Side note: slight crossover between two other shows: “The Bold Type,” + “Fire Country,” but not overly the focus in this piece. So don’t come at me if you’re questioning why they’re tagged :)

*GIF BELONGS TO: @kamala-khan + PHOTO DOES NOT BELONG TO ME!

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Ever since Briar moved out to the New England area it’s been difficult to get her besties to visit with them still living in New York City. Working for Scarlet magazine was a big part of not only Briar’s childhood dream but career journey that brought Briar to this big change in her life.

Perhaps Briar was still getting adjusted as life carried on but in different places now. Originally the girls planned to come up this weekend to have a spooky bake session + movie marathon and would head back that next afternoon.

However things didn’t go as planned with: Jane’s old Danish fling decided to surprise her back in the states after she took her lengthy trip of seeing the world. Briar wasn’t sure if a serious relationship is what Jane needed right now but Jane claims it was only her having fun…leaving Briar to take that with a grain of salt. Then Kat decided to last minute turn down the trip to dive even deeper into her own magazine, “Don’t Turn Away,” which was of course exciting to see and Briar was no doubt proud of her friend but Briar couldn’t believe that Kat was officially the workaholic out of the four friends. It was even sweet for Adena, Kat’s girlfriend, to consider traveling to spend the day with Briar but she encouraged Adena to watch over Kat and push her to take breaks every now and then so she wouldn’t get burnt out. Lastly there was Sutton who switched up to head down to upstate New York to the new cabin her and Richard purchased…which concluded with Briar placing them all on block for the next twenty-four hours.

Sure it was petty but it’s not like the group didn’t plan this two weeks ago and yes things come up…yet it sucked being kicked to the curb like this. Gas prices were also out of control but none of them bothered to use that excuse and well at least they were honest with pushing Briar to the side! Briar didn’t have to sulk at her new Cape home and could get herself up and out into the city of Wellsbury if she really wanted to. The thing is she just wanted to have a night in with her girls, especially when Briar’s been looking forward to seeing them all after she switched career paths.

So…there she is in the solitude of her home lounging on a couch “watching” some crappy horror film, scowling at that one character who plummets to the ground after being chased by a serial killer.

There’s a knock at the door and Briar has to drag her eyes away from her phone to glance towards the windows that she shielded hours ago. Sighing she guesses it must be some more teenagers doing another round of ding dong ditch, since she was the new person in town and it was fun to pick on the new resident here apparently. Padding through the rest of the scattered “oddly,” placed furniture in the living room—Briar’s uppity mother’s words FYI, she finds her way to the front door. Standing a little on her fuzzy sock covered toes, she peeks through the peep hole after flicking her porch lights back on, to see no other than Joe Mohan waiting on her front porch.

Briar doesn’t wipe the nonchalant expression on her face as she pulls the door open, “Joseph, hello.”

Joe’s lips twitch at the formality Briar kept up with when greeting him, “I thought we classified each other as friends not acquaintances. What’s with the ‘Joseph,’ Ms. Briar?”

Briar sighs as she leans against the doorway of her home.

“That bad of a night huh?”

“Oh you have no idea.”

“Well your lack of lights told me to come over and check so I’m here,” Joe holds his arms out with a smile, “And you look like you can use a pick me up…so you should hang out with me.”

Briar and joe lived across the street from each other, while Joe had a ranch that was pushed back from the road, Briar also had her esquestrian property with cape architecture that was actually closer to the road and a roomy pumpkin filled front porch. They were friendly with Briar heading into the blue farm every Wednesday and Friday due to it being her longer days at work, from there they sparked up light hearted but teasing conversations.

She became the newest talk of the town, unwarranted and she liked to keep to herself just a bit to get adjusted better. Did that mean some labeled her as standoffish? So be it. It was something her mother often criticized her for when change came Briar’s way, that she didn’t have to retreat into her shell and that she needed to take things by it’s horns. Maybe subconsciously that’s why she was attempting to raise some goats? It’s a shame that the way your relationship is built from your parent(s) can still haunt you into your adulthood.

“hang with you and the horses you mean?”

Joe notices the shudder radiating off Briar’s frame and shakes his head. He knows the whole story about her at thirteen and on a horse back in the summer at Martha’s Vineyard. That resulted in eight stitches and a dark scar from her chin bone down to where the underside of her tongue rests. It wasn’t as noticeable despite the horrible laser treatments she endured as a kid; unless you were really trying to pick apart her story and if Briar didn’t have make-up covering the scar.

“Nah, what kinda guy do you think I am?”

“The kind that tried to get me on one at that fair last weekend? when you know that was solely for the children.”

Joe was only joking, he wouldn’t push past Briar’s boundaries.

“Oh my mistake, I thought you started middle school already.”

“Ha-ha,” briar playfully rolls her eyes.

Joe lightly taps Briar’s forearm, “c’mon, what else better do you have to do? Halloween is right around the corner, come out and celebrate.”

“I never took you for one to enjoy spooky season.” Briar tilts her head to the side then turns her hooded eyes into slits, “I feel like you’re more of a New Year’s Eve kinda guy.”

“Really? I don’t give fall guy season?”

“Joseph!” Briar almost crinkles her nose as if she’s appalled, “Don’t tell me you like pumpkin and chai lattes?”

“I’m actually more of a hazelnut, chestnut, or go for a praline vibe.” Joe shrugs his shoulders.

“Ah so a winter girl.” Briar lifts her chin almost in approval, “I can now smell the wreath’s from your pores and see the uggs on your feet.”

Joe scoffs and holds his hand out awaiting Briar’s grasp, “so what do you say?”

“I’d say…as long as there’s no horses and you give me a glimpse of the itinerary for the night, I just might.” She keeps her arms folded.

Joe hums, “don’t have time for all the deets but I can guarantee you’ll have some fun.”

“Fun as that mark on your eye?”

“What do you mean? That’s part of my costume.”

“You’re not wearing a costume, Joseph.” Briar scans the bearded man, wondering just how he injured himself this time.

“I…could be.” Joe challenges the woman with the Pearl clips in her hair.

“Well am I dressed appropriately for this undercover mission of fun?” Briar slaps her hands down by her thighs, “Otherwise I’d have to change and take a shot of liquid courage to get through the night.”

Joe says, “you always look great…and I don’t want to wait another hour for you to be ready. The event has already started by the way. So come on, get your keys and ID just in case they decide to make sure you’re not part of gen-z.”

“Whatever you say, baby boomer.” She winks at Joe before disappearing back inside while the man just sent a mocking smile at her back.

They arrive at what appears to be this abandoned brick building with Joe and a few of his friends that Briar’s meeting for the first time. They’re a friendly group that Briar’s heard a little about but it’s good to put the names to the faces and that they welcomed her with pretty much open arms. It was a contrast to the others in town that were more nosy than getting to actually know Briar. However she’s handled worse attitudes in Brooklyn and Manhattan.

“Don’t tell me we’re going haunted exploring,” Briar says to Joe as they walk side by side through the scarce parking lot.

He laughs, “hell no, that’s more Jake’s lane and none of us would actually be here if that was the destination tonight, believe me. You’re in good hands.” He causally tosses an arm across Briar’s shoulders.

Which she glances at but makes no move to pluck his hand off. It actually felt comforting as they made their way through the breezy night together. As the group stand at the large door, they wait for a section of it to slide sideways revealing a beaming red light that shines over their bodies.

Briar still wasn’t sure if she liked this but Joe’s friends seem to get more excited after?

Soon they’re welcomed into the building which smells like cold air and moss, followed by two figures dressed in all black.

“What in the American horror story?” Briar mutters, which is not unheard by the group who let out snickers.

The voice that echoes off the eerily silent hallway, comes from the figure on the left who’s wearing a plague mask, “ladies and gentlemen, those of you who are ready to put those bones to work, I suggest you say your goodbyes now.”

Suddenly alarms go off with the blaring of red lights illuminating their frames. Briar won’t lie and say that she didn’t clasp both hands across Joe’s waist at that, brown eyes peering around this narrow entryway. She also picked up on the sound of the main door locking behind them.

“Come along,” the feminine voice in the black Victorian poof dress speaks, “we shall see how far those shells above thee bones can take it.”

“Take what,” one of Joe’s other friends, Bode is clearly finding enjoyment in this as he bites back a laugh while his girlfriend, Gabriela slaps his arm.

“The shed,” both speakers say at the same time as the floor beneath them all begins to glide them backwards and their group forward.

“Whoa!” Joe wobbles and steadies himself, “they’re really in tune with their roles.”

Abruptly the track stops at a set of stairs that lead downwards into the abyss.

“Welcome to the resurrection,” the feminine doll face raises her lace gloved hands while the plague man stomps his cane into the floor.

Just as they say this, unexpectedly chains slink down from above their heads while a gush of air almost knocks the group back but some unseen force keeps them upright. Devices are clamped down over their heads, making them immediately grip onto it in bewilderment.

“Please select a Halloween genre.” A menacing voice states, making Briar realize that she along with the rest had headphones on now.

“How do we uh…pick?” Jake asks but the hosts no longer say a word.

Briar presses on the top of the headphones, which light up orange while going over specific sections. A pop tune with a haunting theme fills her ears, making Briar’s wide eyes turn to see the rest of the groups slowly turning from a red hue to orange. With that the entryway to the stairs steam with blue smoke, signaling their cue to enter as the plague man and the doll faced woman side step to let the group through.

“This is pretty cool! I’ll admit. Creepy as hell but cool,” Briar can almost hear Joe saying as if he was speaking to her directly through the headphones and over her briefly lowered music.

Briar nods, guard still up as they all creep their way down the stairs and into what looks like a huge club scene with some attendees dancing in costumes and others in simple night out attire.

“I’m getting drunk! Bye!” Gabriela shouts into their ears, dancing through the crowd while pulling Bode along and right to the bar.

Briar and Joe both share a smile as they turn to each other. She wastes no time twirling around him then and begins to dance to her own tune in her ears. Joe keeps his hands together as he watches Briar let free, throughly enjoying seeing a grin on her face.

When she stops in front of Joe, she poses and waves her fingers encouraging Joe to show her what he’s got. She’s seen joe break out into some moves before when he thought nobody was watching and it was the funniest thing how he got embarrassed about it.

The man can move to a beat okay and if a dance battle was what he was asking for tonight, then who was Briar to stop that from happening?

After all it was all in good fun and what was the harm in that?

Joe tried to play it off like he was too cool for school but briar noticed his headphones flicking dim and back to Orange, almost as if the song changed and Briar didn’t miss the way Joe clenched his eyes closed.

Which made Briar smirk.

His song had to be playing and when he busted out doing his own version of the Wednesday Addams dance, which definitely caught Briar off guard! She couldn’t help but to jump in alongside of Joe but she managed to keep a blank expression on her face much better than Joe did.

They were more in sync than they realized once they whipped back to be face to face, Briar raised their hands up into the air together before a smile broke onto Joe’s face which the woman couldn’t help to match as their hands lowered. Briar lets out a laugh, resting her head against Joe’s chest and he wraps his arms back around her, hugging her close as they found joy in the night.

He figures Briar could at least consider him a friend now, bearing in mind that they just went into a whole dance routine in public together. Not to mention she felt just right in his arms and the moment was cheered on, they noticed as the crowd around them watched leaving Joe and Briar to bow at their unknown audience.

Turning to Joe’s friends, they appear with spooky cocktails with Eve handing off one of each to the pair, which they all cheers to with more laughter.

“Who knew all it took was to bring Briar out on the town with us to get Joe on the dance floor?” Gabriela tells.

Briar peeks up at Joe who sends her a wink with his lips at the rim of the glass.

Briar nudges his shoulder, “Ah, what are friends for?”

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Continue along with my October anthology prompts here.

[scuttling]

Stay at Home DILF

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 5,863 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Dad Bod Hotch, Insecure Hotch, Oral sex, Fingering, Unprotected sex, A little angsty by accident Summary: Aaron retires from the BAU when the new baby is born, but a year later the lack of structure, sleep, and time for himself means changes to his body he's not very proud of. When the thought of having another child is brought up, how will he and his wife work through his insecurities to make the perfectly imperfect, happy family? *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! “Honey, I have to get going—do you need me to drop Jack off at school, or are you good?” Professor Hotchner slides her foot into a flesh-toned pump, leaning against the kitchen table for support and stealing a grape from Jack’s fruit salad. He narrows his eyes, then sticks out his tongue, and she does the same. “Do you want me to starve, Jackrabbit?”

“You won’t starve. Get your own grapes.” So full of sass, that one. Seven is such a fun age. She decides to blame the mixture of Aaron’s genes and Haley’s, and she pulls out her phone to send Haley a quick text.

Your son is a menace in the morning.

Haley: Gets that from his dad.

Aaron enters the kitchen, holding their one year old daughter Mia, and he sticks her in her highchair, puts her breakfast in front of her, and leans toward his wife.

“I’m good, I’ll take him,” he says, and kisses her lips. “Mia and I will take big brother Jack to school, won’t we?” Mia is obsessed with Jack—her first word was Jack, or rather, Ack, which was super cute—so she giggles happily, and her mother can’t help but smile. Their little family is absolutely perfect.

She leans in for another kiss from Aaron, and then another, and then maybe one more...

“You’re getting distracted,” Jack says, and she looks over at him with a raised eyebrow, then back to Aaron. He shrugs.

“It was on one of his vocabulary sheets.” Figures.

“Well, maybe I find my boys distracting. Let me give you kisses and we’ll find out!” She launches herself at him, kissing his head and his cheeks, and he laughs, and she knows she’s going to be late for work, but she can’t pass up moments like these, she just can’t.

She gives him a hug and tells him to have a good day, then she kisses Mia, and then she puts her arms around Aaron’s neck and kisses him goodbye. Before she pulls away, something comes over her—the warmth of this perfect morning, the overwhelming love for both of their sassy, silly kids, or maybe the fact that they’ve been too busy for sex lately and she’s constantly horny for him—and she looks up at him and whispers, “we should have another baby.”

Aaron grins immediately.

“Yeah we should.” They kiss a few more times, quickly, smiling against each other's lips, and he pats her hip because he knows she has to go. “We’ll talk more later, but yes. I want to. I love you.” He takes her face in his hands and kisses her deeply, and she sighs, grabs her bags, and heads out the door. Work is work; as the youngest professor in the English department, her schedule is jam packed with classes, lectures, morning office hours, but despite all that, it seems that Aaron is having the more difficult day.

They both love that he was able to retire from the BAU early to be a stay at home dad when Mia was born—he does consult for them occasionally, but has no official title, doesn’t have to travel—and he’s amazing at it, but she knows her baby can be a handful even on a good day. The texts she’s been getting all morning only solidify that knowledge.

Aaron: FYI - Mia hates bananas this week.

Aaron: What do they put in this applesauce, crack? She’s tearing around here like a bat out of hell.

Aaron: Okay, she’s your child, I officially renounce her. I put on The White Album and she started crying.

Maybe she prefers Abbey Road?

Aaron: No. Unlike her mother, she has taste.

You wound me, Hotchner.

She works through lunch, grading papers on The Call of the Wild, but when Aaron’s name lights up the display on her phone, she puts her pen down and smiles, puts it on speaker.

She’s sorry she did, because Mia is wailing in the background, and it’s very clearly her, I’m exhausted, asshole, leave me alone, cry, which makes her wonder why she’s not taking a nap. She knows she resists Aaron sometimes, doesn’t want him to leave her alone in her room, which is so sweet and also so, so annoying.

“Hi, sweetheart. Are you having a little trouble over there?” He takes a deep breath and sighs.

“She won’t go down, baby, even if I sit in the rocking chair beside her. It’s been twenty minutes.” Wow. He put up with it longer than she would have.

“Put her in her crib with Stuffy Bear and just let her cry; I know you hate that, but she’ll give up eventually.” He groans softly.

“I can’t; I feel so bad.”

She smiles. Her warm-hearted man.

“She does this because she knows you’ll give in and do whatever she wants. I promise you, she’ll be happier for it; she sounds miserable.”

“I don’t know…” he says, and she can tell he’s not going to do it. She picks up her pen and skims the paper she abandoned.

“Are you tired?” She doesn't wait for an answer, because she knows he is: Jack had a bad dream last night and woke them both up, and Aaron went to lay with him until he fell asleep because he knew she had an early morning. It was almost time for her alarm when he made it back to bed. “If you want to try to nap, she’s going to have to nap. Do it for her, yourself, me, a combination of the three of us. She won’t be mad at you; she won’t even remember.”

“What if I give her abandonment issues?” he presses, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“Aaron, I love you so much. You’re such a great dad, and our kids are lucky to have you. But you have to loosen the reins just a little, especially if… if we are going to have another baby.” The thought makes her smile, and she can tell he’s smiling down the line, too.

“Right. Loosen the reins. Just put her in her crib,” she can hear that he does that, “and give her Stuffy Bear, and let her cry.” He blows out a breath, and she can hear the door click shut behind him as he leaves her room. She’s proud of him, but she also knows he’s going to sit in front of the video monitor and watch to make sure she falls asleep, and that he’ll probably work on laundry after that and not actually take a nap of his own.

He insists he’s doing fine when she brings it up, but the way he sacks out like a corpse when they get into bed doesn’t exactly have her convinced.

“I love you, and miss you,” he says when it’s slightly quieter, though she can faintly hear the cries through the monitor. “It made me really happy this morning when you said we should have another baby. We make perfect babies, have you noticed?” She hides her grin behind her hand, because if anyone walked by her office they’d think she’s insane with how widely she’s smiling.

“I have noticed, but since we only have the one and I can’t take any credit for Jack, I figured we should probably make another. Maybe the same way we made Mia…” They’re both convinced it was a weekend when Jack was at Haley’s and the two of them went to town on each other, true marathon sex where they only stopped for food and water and she coaxed him to hardness so many times she felt like a damn sex goddess.

“Hmm. I remember that with fondness, and would love to do that again. You know Haley said she’d take Mia on one of Jack’s weekends if we ever needed her to.”

Her life is pretty damn perfect, with her gorgeous, caring husband, and her two awesome kiddos, and a job she loves, but the most unexpectedly sweet part is that Haley is so comfortable with her, and that she and Aaron were able to get past the ugliness of their divorce to eventually become friends again. It’s not something they take for granted.

“Maybe we should take her up on it this weekend,” she says, trying to sound a little sultry. “We’ve both been so busy; it’s been a while since you pet my kitty.” For some reason, this particular phrase makes Aaron blush and get insanely horny, and she’s hoping to tease him so much the rest of the week that their weekend is one neither of them ever forget, so she’s pulling out the big guns.

“It’s been far too long, and I’m sorry. I can’t wait, baby. I’ll call her here in a few; I know you have to get to your next lecture.” She looks down at her watch, and it is about time to clean up and head over. She sighs happily down the line.

“Okay, I love and miss you; try to take a power nap. I promise, she’ll be fine.”

“I will.” He won’t. “Talk to you soon.” When she gets home, Aaron has dinner ready; she told him to hold off, that she’d help when she got there, but he has always been an overachiever.

Mia is already in her high-chair, waiting patiently for once in her little life; she kisses her forehead, breathes in her sweet baby smell, and then makes her way to her husband.

“Looks good, honey,” she says as he sets the table, and she leans up for a kiss, but when she presses her hand to his stomach like she always does, he pulls back a little. “Is everything okay? Did you have a bad afternoon?”

“No, it wasn’t bad after the nap fiasco,” he responds, but he sounds distracted. Maybe he was asked to look at a case, or something, and that’s still on his mind? She leans against his shoulder, puts a hand on his back and attempts to push up his t-shirt, to skim her hand up along his spine, which always comforts him, but again, he shifts away from her touch. She sighs and steps back.

“You're going to give me a complex, Aaron. If I did something to upset you, please tell me so I can apologize and try to make it better.” He turns to look at her face, and his formerly tense jaw softens a little; he presses his lips to hers, just a peck.

“No, you didn’t do anything. I’m just a little tired, that’s all.” He smiles softly, and she’s sure he is tired, but this seems like something more.

“You’d tell me if something else was bothering you, right? You know I’m here for you.”

“Of course I would, and of course I do. I love you,” he breathes against her mouth, and then he goes in for a longer kiss and she gets, as Jack said earlier, a little distracted. When the kiss breaks, she sighs happily.

“I love you. Missed those lips,” she murmurs, and then she runs a hand over his hair. “If the kids wake up again tonight, I’ll get them. You need to rest.” He shakes his head.

“You have another full day tomorrow,” he counters, and it’s so sweet that he keeps up with the schedule she has posted on the fridge, but still. She puts her hand on her hip.

“And you don’t? It’s my turn. Let me help.” He looks like he wants to argue, but she gives him the glare he knows means she will talk about this all night if he doesn’t agree; she’s not the sponsor of the university’s debate team for nothing, and even his prosecutorial ways have nothing on her.

“Okay,” he sighs, and she smiles and kisses him and then goes to get Jack and make sure he’s cleaned up for dinner.

That night when the two of them are getting ready for bed, she’s surprised as hell when he stops her from pulling one of his t-shirts—her typical sleepwear—over her head. She sets it down, arches her brow, and he guides her back onto the bed with a grin and puts his hands on her hips.

“What’s happening right now?” she asks, because before Mia, sure, Aaron would treat her to all manner of orgasm-inducing behavior at random, and she would do the same, but since Mia—especially in the last six months or so—their sexual encounters have been few and far between. It’s no one’s fault, and they’re both very clearly still attracted to each other; it’s just one of those things that falls by the wayside when you have a new baby and a hectic life and you don’t get enough sleep.

Needless to say, she is a little confused by this turn of events.

“I’m attempting to worship my gorgeous fucking wife,” he murmurs, and he leans up and kisses her stomach, licks a long line up from her belly button. Her breath hitches. “Gonna put another little baby in here—but it’s always beautiful.” He slowly moves his lips higher, over her ribcage, and holds her there. “You’re perfect, you know?”

“Aaron.” Her fingers come up to sweep through his hair; her heart aches with love and tenderness. He moves up, presses open-mouthed kisses to each of her breasts, then covers them with his hands and squeezes. She’s a panting, dripping mess, and more than anything she wants to strip him naked, pull him closer, get him inside her.

“I love you just as you are; I want you just as you are. Always have, always will.” He smooths his hands up over her throat, and brings her mouth to his for a deep, soulful kiss. She hadn’t even realized she’s been feeling repressed, but his touch tonight makes her feel so beautiful and special… It's incredible how close she is from only that.

“Make love to me,” she whispers, and he kisses her again, but then he slides back down her body.

“Want to taste you,” he says instead, and he gets his hands on her hips again and his mouth on her pussy, looks up at her while he licks and sucks like he’s gone without for ages—which he has, she figures, but it’s blowing her mind, her fingers scratching at the sheets, her neck arched. He massages her hips as his tongue works, as he grinds against the bed, and she comes with a whimper, because her body is so overwhelmed by how good she feels that she can’t even properly vocalize it.

Aaron comes up, just a little, rests his head on her stomach, and she smooths her hands over his hair and his shoulders, since that’s all she can reach.

“Come up and let me touch you—or you can come inside me.” She will happily take either option, but he just kisses her belly and shakes his head.

“No, I’m good. Just really tired.” She frowns, can’t recall a time in her life when they didn’t both get off during sex; he catches her expression and runs his hands up her body. “Really, I’m okay. I just wanted to do that before I passed out.” He smiles, and she doesn’t like it, but he climbs off of her and goes to the bathroom, and she pulls on the t-shirt and crawls into bed. Two days later, she’s sitting in her office grading tests when she hears a knock at the door. She looks up, and it’s Aaron, of course, looking so gorgeous in a black polo and jeans.

“Hey, what are you doing here? Where’s Mia?” she asks with a smile. He leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed.

“She’s with her Aunt Penelope for a few hours.”

“Why? Is everything okay?” Penelope is at work, she knows, because she texted her earlier about something unrelated and she’d mentioned that she and Spencer were having coffee and that he said hello.

“Everything‘s fine,” he assures her, and he enters the room fully, closes the door behind him… and locks it. “Can’t your husband come visit you during your super secret not-really-office-hours?” She raises an eyebrow, both at his question and the fact that he locked the door. What exactly is he planning to do, she wonders?

“You can, but you don’t. I guess I’m just surprised.”

“Well today I decided to. I missed you so much.” He walks around her desk and leans over her for a couple of kisses. “Have you missed me?” She rolls her eyes, smiles.

“Of course I missed you. I miss you every second I’m away from you.” She reaches out, wants to hug him, pull him closer, but he takes a step back and crooks his finger, encouraging her to follow him.

He’s being really weird, but he’s also being really hot. She decides to play along.

She stands, walks over to him, and he carefully clears a spot on her desk, knows she has a system and doesn’t like a mess; when she’s within reach, he puts his hands on her waist and lifts her up onto it, her ass where a stack of tests had just been. Fuck.

“I want to get this dress off of you,” he says, voice low, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses her, rough and deep. “Can I take it off, baby? Can I make you come?”

Everything is happening so fast her head is spinning—it’s not like him to just show up at her office, to try to have sex with her there, especially when their dry spell has been, up until recently, like the damn Sahara.

He must sense her confusion, her apprehension, because he kisses slowly along the side of her throat, down the v-neck of her dress, making her eyelids flutter.

“The door’s locked, and no one even knows we’re in here. Can I take it off?” She pants, thinks about this for a second, but then he slides a hand over her thigh, pushing her skirt up, and she gets a little distracted. She nods, and he kisses her hard and unties the sash of her wrap dress, pushes it off her shoulders. She’s glad she wore a matching set of bra and panties, because this is like prime fantasy material and she wants to try to remember every detail.

He kisses her mouth, soft and sweet, then tugs the straps of her bra down her shoulders, pulls the cups down so her breasts fall out of them. She moans, a little startled, and he dips his head to mouth at her nipples, rests one hand on her lower back and one on her stomach—probably because she looks like she’s about to slide off the desk and onto the floor like a blob of jelly. She knows that’s how she feels.

When he’s gotten her thoroughly worked up, almost trembling with the need for more, he pushes her panties aside and presses a finger into her, and she whimpers, wraps her hand around his neck for support when he starts to pump it deeply inside.

“What has gotten into you?” she breathes, and her hips chase the pleasure he brings; the hand on her back moves to her ass, squeezes it.

“I love you and I want you. I want to make you happy, I want you to feel good.”

“Me—me too,” she gasps as he moves faster, staring right into his eyes. “I love you, want you. Want to make you happy, feel good.” She cards her fingers through his hair and stretches for a desperate, eager kiss. “I want you so badly, baby, please.”

“I’m right here. You have me,” he murmurs, but that’s not what she means and he has to know it. Just in case he doesn’t, though, she makes herself loud and clear; relationships are all about communication, after all.

“I want you to put your cock in my pussy, I want you to come in me. I want you to fucking ruin me, Aaron, I want you to shove your dick in me and keep shoving.” She sounds unhinged, but she can’t stop.

He adds a second finger—not what she wants—and roughly gropes her breast—it feels so good, but it’s not what she wants. Why won’t he give her what she wants?

“Shh, just come on my hand, it’s okay. I’ll fuck you later, in our bed, baby,” he promises. “Just come now, okay? Right here, right now for me.”

She does, because even if he’s being unnecessarily aggravating, it’s still Aaron. She’s desperate for him, always has been, always will be. She comes loud and high and she clutches him tightly and he kisses her and coos words of love and affection into her ear. She gets cleaned up, and they go for lunch, and they can’t take their eyes off each other.

Something’s very wrong, and she can’t quite put her finger on it.

That evening when she gets home, Aaron is feeling guilty. She’s not sure why, but he’s executing all of his patented guilty trademark behaviors: he offers her a glass of wine, runs her a bath, rubs her feet, even though he’s been the one home with the baby all day. She’s tempted to ask if he’s cheating on her, as a joke, but that’s never funny, especially when she knows he’s being shifty and weird about something.

When they’re laying in bed, he sets down his book and looks over at her.

“I meant to tell you, Haley isn’t able to take Mia tomorrow. Maybe the weekend after, we can have our special alone time.” She won’t say she’s not disappointed, but she doesn’t want to inconvenience Haley, when she’s already being so great. She smiles softly, covers his hand with hers.

“That’s okay. It was short notice, anyway. I’ll still enjoy my weekend, with you and Mia.” He smiles too, but it doesn’t quite touch his eyes.

The kids sleep through the night, but she doesn’t. On Friday, she picks Jack up from school and takes him to Haley’s, who sends him to wash up so she can make him a snack. When he’s gone, she smiles warmly and invites her into the kitchen for coffee; she takes a cup, and they make pleasant small talk like they always do.

“Are you sure you don’t want to bring Mia over?” Haley asks after a few minutes. It sounds like she’s double checking. “It’s really no trouble.” She frowns, sets her cup down.

“I thought you weren’t able to watch Mia this weekend. I thought… I thought that’s what Aaron said. I must have misunderstood him.” That’s the only logical conclusion, because Aaron wouldn’t lie to her. He wouldn’t.

“He was being a little weird on the phone the other day. He asked me if I would watch her, and I said yes. He told me about your plans,” she says with raised eyebrows, “and then I told him, you know. That he better treat you right, because you just had a baby not that long ago and you might be a little self-conscious about jumping back into the sack like that; not that you should be, because you look amazing.” She racks her brain for the first time he started acting strangely, pulling away from her, and it would have been after his conversation with Haley. She asks, just to confirm.

“Is that when he got weird?”

“Actually yeah. He changed his mind, said you might not need me to watch her after all, but I told him the offer stood. He was pretty quick to get off the phone after that.” She would sip her coffee, but she’s pretty sure her hands are shaking. Why would he lie about that?

“You know, I should go. I’m sure Aaron’s pulling his hair out with her, she’s been a devil today. Tell Jack I love him and I’ll talk to him tonight, will you?”

“Of course. If you change your mind about Mia, just let me know,” Haley says, and she gets into her car with tears stinging her eyes.

When she gets home, Aaron is playing with Mia on the living room floor. He looks up at her with a smile that abruptly falls when he takes in her facial expression.

“What’s wrong?” She composes herself, takes a deep breath. They vowed a long time ago not to argue in front of Jack or Mia. She tries to sound conversational.

“You lied to me. You said Haley couldn’t take Mia this weekend.” He swallows and looks properly guilty. She’s not sure how he was able to lie to her in the first place; he’s never been any good at it.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have. I just didn’t know how to say it.” She looks up, shakes her head, wills her eyes not to water while she’s trying to have this conversation.

“You didn’t know how to say what? What is it that’s made you distance yourself from me?” She recalls him physically pulling away, then doing a complete 180 and initiating sex, but never penetrative sex, never letting her touch him or return the favor in any way. “Haley told me about your conversation. So do you think I’m unhappy with my body, or are you unhappy with my body?” He has the nerve to look confused, gets Mia set up with some toys she can play with safely on her own and stands up, comes close to her. She’s not sure she even wants his touch right now, which is saying something; when she’s unhappy, that’s usually all she wants.

“Neither of those things. I swear to god. I love you and I love your body; you’re so beautiful. Too beautiful for me, you always have been.” He’s looking down at her so seriously, and she wants so badly to believe him, but how could she, when faced with the evidence?

“Okay. If it’s neither of those things…” Her voice is small when she says the one option that hurts her most. “Did you change your mind? Do you not want to have another baby with me?” He sighs, deflates, and she takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“No, listen to me. It’s not that I don’t want that; I want that more than anything, but it will… further complicate, things...” He trails off, and she tries to follow what he’s saying. “The problem isn’t you in any way. It’s me.” She huffs, squeezes her eyes briefly shut.

“You? How can it be you, when you’ve been the only man to catch my eye for years? From the moment you set foot on my campus looking for your bad guy, I’ve been attracted to you, aroused by you, wrapped around your finger. You’re so perfect for me: perfect husband, perfect dad, perfect lover. My best friend. Never a day has gone by where I haven’t wanted you.” He wets his lips, sighs.

“Surely you’ve noticed that since I quit my job and started staying home with Mia, I… I don’t look the same. I’ve… let myself go.” His brows are deeply furrowed, and he’s clearly struggling with this; she reaches for him, no longer angry—at least for the time being—puts a hand on his arm.

“I’ve noticed that you don’t quite look the same. Doesn’t mean you’ve ‘let yourself go,’ or that I’m not still attracted to you; you just have a dad bod now instead of an ‘FBI guy who punches people for a living’ bod.” Her other hand hovers, then comes to rest on his stomach, and she smiles. “I’m actually really into the way you look now. I’ve been fantasizing about it for ages. I wish I’d known you were feeling self-conscious.”

“I’m not used to feeling… self-conscious, vulnerable,” he breathes, but he presses into her touch, so she considers that a good thing. “I didn’t know how to handle it.”

“I get that baby, I do, but this is me. I would have done anything I could to make you feel better. You didn’t have to hide it from me. You didn’t have to lie. We could have talked about it.” She moves the hand on his arm to his face, guides him down for a loving kiss. “We’re equally to blame, because I know you haven’t been getting good sleep, and I know you barely have time for yourself, and I didn’t step in; but you never let me help. If roles were reversed, and it was me staying home with Mia, you would never expect me to do all the cooking and cleaning and homework and bath time without your help. So you need to let me help, Aaron, please.” She looks up at him, eyes warm and sincere, and he nods, bends to press a kiss to her lips.

“I’m sorry. I still don’t feel great about… myself, but maybe I could. If I let you help. If I took some time for me.” She nods and wraps her arms around him—finally—for a hug.

“I love you so much. Just like this. Big, cuddly papa bear, taking care of our babies, making our home a safe and happy place for them. How could I not love the body that brings me so much happiness? That makes me excited to get in my car and come home at the end of every day?”

They kiss some more, deep, healing kisses and soft, sweet kisses, but she doesn’t get distracted by them. She’s very focused, caresses him and brushes loving fingertips over his chest and arms and sides. But speaking of distractions…

“Were you doing all those sexy things to try to distract me from wanting you to get all up on me?” she asks, pulling back, and at least he has the decency to flush.

“Kind of? I figured if it was sex you wanted, you’d be happy to get off however it happened; it was great for me too, don’t get me wrong, I just didn’t really want to be touched, feeling the way I felt.” She frowns, rests her head against his chest and holds him tighter.

“That makes me sad. What I wanted was an intimate moment with my husband, and while yes, what you did for me was great, because you’re super hot and very capable,” she says, leaning back in his embrace with a soft smile, “it’s not what I’ve been wanting. I want you all naked and sweaty and heavy on top of me, going to pound town.” He presses his lips together and raises his eyebrows.

“Pound town? What are you, twelve?” She grins, shoves his chest, and he laughs.

“I’m surrounded by college kids all day, please forgive me. I think it got my message across though.” She touches his cheek, looks up into his eyes, and sighs. “Can we take Mia over to Haley’s and give it a shot? I’ll do anything to make you feel happy and comfortable, any position that makes you feel better—though what I’d really like most, if you’ll trust me, is to suck your dick, and then hop on your dick, and then later when we’re ready to go again, we do the pound town thing and make another goddamn baby.”

She’s so serious, and he looks so serious, and then he kisses her and says yes and they pack up their kid and take her to his ex-wife’s so they can get it on, which sounds so much crazier than it actually is. She gets him out of his clothes, doesn’t move slow or spend lots of time focusing on what he thinks are flaws; instead, she proves how desirable he is by practically tearing his pants off and pushing him against the bed and swallowing around his dick just so she can hear all those delicious moans she’s been missing.

After that, she rides him hard, kisses him harder, plants her hands on his chest and stomach and moans and groans against his mouth. “So fucking hot, seriously so fucking hot, Aaron—if I saw you across the room today I wouldn’t change a goddamn thing, I would still pursue you, I’d make you blush like I did back then. I’d be so forward because I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about how good this would feel.”

She’s rocking his world, no doubt about that; it’s written all over his face, in the hardness of his hands on her hips as she grinds down on his cock, in the way his chest is heaving despite not actually doing any of the work at all. He comes first, and then rubs her clit while she continues to fuck him until she finds her own orgasm; she scratches her nails down his stomach, and he leans up and grabs her face for a rough, perfect kiss.

They take a break, cuddling and kissing and enjoying the feel of bare skin, comfy bed, soft lips. Aaron touches her cheek, tells her how much he loves and appreciates her.

“I’m so sorry I’ve been keeping this inside, and not being truthful. It’s hard, when you’re as perfect as the day I met you, and I’m…” She presses a finger to his lips, shushes him, kisses him.

“You’re as perfect as the day I met you, too. More perfect, even, because every day since then you’ve chosen me, and our family. I could not ask for a better man. Simply could not, Aaron. And if you want me to come home early so you can go to the park to run, or to the gym, then that’s what I'll do, but if you look like you do right now, forever, I’ll be happy with that too. Whatever makes you happy.”

They snuggle and kiss and talk and laugh, and then laughing becomes sex in that way everything becomes sex when you’re genuinely obsessed with the person in your bed.

He gets her on her back, kisses all over, teases her—“mmm, rubbing your kitty, baby, how does it feel?”—and then puts her legs over his shoulders, plants his hands, and fucks, taking every ounce of his pent-up frustration out on her, and it’s incredible.

“Yes, Aaron, yes, baby, oh, god.” Her head is thrown back, and she’s torn between laughing, because she’s been wanting this for months and it’s exactly as awesome as she’d dreamed it would be, and crying, because she fucking loves him, so much it puts a lump in her throat.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, speeds up, sweaty and gorgeous and smiling. “You’re going to come with me—not just for me, but with me, so my come gets deep inside, so it works and we get another perfect baby who never lets us fucking sleep.” She nods frantically, presses her hips against his, and it’s not simultaneous, but it’s a near damn thing, when they both come groaning each other’s names. A little less than a year later, they have Mason. Aaron is at home in his dad bod, Mia doesn’t cry at naptime, Jack is still a menace in the mornings, and their perfect little family got a little more perfect. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul

[borrowedtimeandspace]

Questions, Questions

For Doctor Who Appreciation Week!

Day 2: Favorite Companion

Similar to choosing a favorite Doctor, this was a hard call. So many to choose from, so many I love for very different reasons! But in the end I had to go with my gut. Basically all the RTD companions have honorable mentions, along with Jamie for being the cutiest.

[ FYI for anyone finding me through this event: This features my OC companion who is a borrower, an inches-tall humanoid person who scavenges supplies from humans if you aren't familiar. ]

~~~

"How have you got no sleeves?"

Of all the questions Zepheera had been asked by the various humanoids who had seen and/or caught her, this was definitely a new opener.

It had been a long time since the last one, mind. Being under five inches tall gave Zepheera an advantage if she chose to remain unseen. Even so, she was far from the average borrower. Something had happened, years and years ago now, that unlocked a wanderlust within her. She couldn't keep still anymore. Not even her beloved London town could satisfy. While it was the place in which she spent the most time, she took every opportunity to travel all across Great Britain. On the off chance...

That same wanderlust brought her to Bristol recently, and a few stray pamphlets about a wildcard lecturer brought her to St. Luke's University.

And a pang in her stomach led to a foolish move that got her caught by the chips server girl just as the canteen had begun to empty.

The young woman, having found a private corner to stare in awe at the absolutely tiny person in her gloved hand, struck Zepheera dumb with her question. She waited expectantly for an answer, but all Zepheera could muster was, "Pardon?"

Large brown eyes sparkled in fascination. "It's like, square cube law, innit? You're probably not small enough to freeze to death, but you've still gotta be really chilly or something. How're you sittin' there in a t-shirt?"

Zepheera blinked. It was certainly a departure from the blunt and straightforward "How are you so tiny?" questions, even if it was basically the same thing. "I dunno, it's toasty in here?"

This only made her curious smile even wider. "Okay, but it's not just that part of it. Like, are your cells all normal size, or are they tiny? Cos, I dunno, you look pretty human but just in miniature, and if that's right then you shouldn't even be able to breathe properly, let alone--"

"Sorry, erm..." Overwhelmed, Zepheera held up a hand to halt the line of questioning. "how did square cube come into this?"

Now it was the woman's turn to blink. "Oh. Well, I'm not an expert or anythin'. There was just this lecture about it recently, that's why it's so fresh. And actually, after the guy explained it all for like three hours he basically said it was all rubbish anyway. Guess he was right!"

Zepheera couldn't explain why, but her heartbeat quickened with each passing word. It felt like a hunch, one that hadn't cropped up in ages. Although she tried not to get her hopes up too high, as she had nothing to go on other than that feeling, she asked her own question. "Which lecturer?"

"Why? You gonna sit in the next one?"

"Which. Lecturer?" Zepheera's piercing violet gaze tore through the lighthearted quip and actually made the woman's smile falter a bit.

"I dunno," she replied, "haven't really gotten a proper answer out of anyone. People just call him 'The Doctor'."

She kept speaking, but Zepheera could hardly hear her over the blood pounding in her ears. Here. All this time and he was here.

"...and I dunno why, but he's asked me to come and see him in his office," the woman was saying when Zepheera could understand her again.

"When?"

"This afternoon, actually." She quirked an eyebrow at Zepheera. "Why are you so interested?"

"Can I come with you?" Zepheera blurted.

"What, like, sneak you in?"

"Yes. Please."

After looking Zepheera up and down her very few inches for a moment, the woman's smile began to return. "Yeah, okay. Why not." She lifted her free hand, removed her clear, crinkly glove with her teeth, and offered Zepheera the tip of her first finger.

"Bill Potts," she introduced once she'd spit the glove aside. "What's the plan, little mate?"

"Zepheera." Adrenaline caused her hand to shake as she gave Bill's fingertip a pat in acknowledgement of their new arrangement. "And, er, that is an excellent question."

[fweasleyswhore]

Who We Are - F.W.

Chapter Five: Your Facade

Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four

a/n: its really outta pocket how late this is, but, i am sorry depression been hittin hard lately im going to try and upload around every three days now !

word count: 2.2k sorry short 

warnings: none! just fluff and a tad of uncomfy a lot of ground work for next chapter also this is a series specific taglist just as fyi

tags: @you-make-children-cry @bohemianspacebabe @levylovegood @louist-pics @rochellestark @hufflepuffzutara @weasleybeb @whoreforfredweasley @fortheloveofthecharacter @ayesha-mae @ma0422

“Darling! How I am so excited to meet you!” Before I could reply I was pulled into a bone-crushing hug by Mrs. Weasley. I was quickly pulled out of the train by the twins, barely able to tell Lee goodbye before I was being surrounded by redheads. If I didn’t know who they were I would have felt like I was being circled by vultures. Placing names to the faces I saw wasn’t so difficult, I knew all of the family from my time at Hogwarts, the only thing I didn’t know was who the two taller men behind Mrs. Weasley were. I only got a glance at them, they were both redheads, obviously of the Weasley clan. One had a dangly earring with longer hair that reached his jaw, the other was slightly taller and stockier, his hair wasn’t as long as the others but had more of a curl to it. They were engaged in a conversation I couldn’t hear or focus on as I was being pushed out of Mrs. Weasley’s arm’s. She held me at arms length smiling. 

“Thank you so much for letting me stay with you, it really means a lot to me,” I spoke softly, bringing one of my hands up to squeeze hers that rested on my shoulder. She nodded enthusiastically. She opened her mouth to reply but was cut off by Mr. Weasley. “No problem, not at all.” He said nodding down at me. He extended his hand which I shook gladly. “Oi stop coddling Y/N!” George spoke up from behind me pushing next to me. “Yeah we want to spend time with her too.” Fred said linking his arm around my shoulders. George let out a chortle that pulled my and Fred’s attention toward him. “I meant for mum to coddle us, you know, because we are her kids.” I felt Fred’s arm drop from around me and I glared at George who smiled wide and looked between us. “Alright children let's get going.” Mrs. Weasley clapped, pulling all of our attention towards her. I let out a short sigh and grabbed my trunk. The ride to the burrow was uncomfortable. I sat in between the twins in the backseat with some extra luggage. Fred started to rest his head on my shoulder around the halfway point which would have been cute if I could relax into it, instead it just made me feel more cramped. I shut my eyes, trying to relax my breathing as my nerves took over me, counting my breaths until we were there. Getting into the Burrow was a flash, moving bodies tumbling up the winding stairs. The house truly was a beauty to behold, seemingly stacked and held together by magic, the outside was remarkable. The inside felt like an ever present hug, little nooks filled with cushions and blankets could be found in nearly every room. It truly was cozy and everything I longed to feel in my own home. Home was void, it was a place where I stayed but it never made me feel the way the Burrow made me feel. “Now Y/N, go put your stuff in Ginny’s room, you and her will be staying together and with Hermione later when she joins us.” Nodding along to Mrs. Weasley’s words I followed Ginny to her bedroom. It was cute there were posters on the wall for quidditch and on her dresser she had a few stuffed animals, they had their fair share of tears and missing buttons but I’m sure that was just from use. “So what’s it like?” She asked as I set my bag down on the cot set up opposite her bed. “Being Fred’s girlfriend of course! Mum’s ecstatic, this is the first time one of the boys have brought someone they are dating home.” I felt heat and embarrassment crawl up my neck like a ferocious fire breathing dragon until my entire body felt hot head to toe. “No, we are just friends.” “Are you sure?” “Very.” “But George said-” “Kids! Dinner is ready!” Mrs. Weasley’s voice flooded the house and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding in. “Go ahead, I’m going to change.” Ginny nodded and left, shutting the door lightly behind her. Did the family think me and Fred were dating? Did Fred think we were dating? Multiple questions raced through my mind, each one making me grow hotter, but I couldn’t quite place why. I decided against my winter apparel, opting for sleep shorts and an oversized shirt. It wasn’t the cutest but it was the coolest thing I packed and knowing how many people were down stairs I could only assume how much hotter the air would get. Winding my way down the stairs and through the rooms I finally found the one filled with people. The family was surrounding a table where it looked like there was a feast right out of the Great Hall spread out. 

“Ah! Y/N, come! Sit sit, um here.” She pointed to a chair on the far end of the table, on each side were the two men I saw from before but didn’t know. Feeling nervous I nodded and went to take my seat. Luckily Fred and George were across from me and that calmed me a bit knowing the meal wouldn’t be met with awkwardness. Soon my plate was full and the entire family seemed to be going in between a big conversation and small ones on the side.

“You must be Y/N.” Said the man on the left of me. 

“Yes and you are?” He chuckled and sent a confused look to the twins, I followed his gaze and saw Fred looking rather displeased, sending him a glare.

 “Charlie, and that’s Bill.” He pointed around my shoulder to the man on my right. I smiled warmly and waved and he nodded with a sly wink. 

“I’ve heard about you two, you’re the oldest ones right? And you are in Egypt most of the time?” I asked Charlie in between bites of beans. 

“No I’m usually in Romania with Dragons, Bill is in Egypt working with his voodoo.” Placing my attention on Bill, silently asking him for confirmation. 

“I don’t do voodoo, Charlie is just being an ass, it's his specialty.” He was cut off by Charlie laughing, rolling his eyes he started again. “I’m a curse breaker, I work for Gringotts.” My eyes widened as I felt curiosity bubble up within me. If I had to guess I would have assumed that Bill was the one working with dragons, his hair pulled back into a ponytail, his tooth earring, leather boots, it just felt more fitting. Charlie's build definitely proved his occupation; I just would not have guessed it. 

“What does a curse breaker do exactly?” I asked. “Well obviously, you know, but are there any cool perks?” 

“Yeah Bill what are the cool perks?” George asked with a sly smirk, his eyes danced between Fred’s hostile gaze and his older brother, chuckling to himself.

“Yeah other than getting sunburnt.” Fred groaned. I sent him a look but he missed it too busy prodding around with his food angrily. George had an amused look on his face, obviously directed at his twins behavior but I couldn’t place why. 

“He knows nothing about burns, trust me.” Charlie piped up. He rolled up his left sleeve which held a scar that curved and danced up his forearm and around his elbow. 

“Baby Chinese firebolt, I was trying to put it into the incubator when it realized I wasn’t mama.” 

Dinner went on, Fred didn’t utter a word for the rest of dinner, just poked his food with a grimace on his face. I didn’t let his sour mood ruin mine, I was divested in conversation with Bill and Charlie, learning all about their jobs and travels. Bill told me about an old woman who made jewelry in the center of the town in Egypt where he stayed, he told me about how she imbued each item with a different magical property, some were protection charms and others were sister pieces used to send messages between  their owners. Charlie taught me about the different types of dragons and what it was like to work with them. They were both so kind, answering each question I had with a smile on their face. I was so divested in whatever Bill was telling me I didn’t notice everyone had left the table at that point. 

“Why don’t we move into the living room?” He asked looking around, I followed his eyes, noting the once lively table empty. In a weird way it made me feel cold, a shiver tore through me. 

“If you don’t mind I am going to find the twins.” I spoke getting up. He smiled understandingly. “I think Fred might be in their room, second level first door on your left.” I nodded, sending him a small smile as thanks. 

“Wait I said twins, not Fred.” I looked back to him, his smile evident as if he had just caught me.  

“I know.” He said, cheeky grin never leaving his features. I felt my cheeks heat up, turning on my heel I left and found my way to the stairs. Harry was watching Ginny and Ron play wizards chess in the kitchen, Charlie and Percy were arguing in the living room about the ethical uses of dragons as means of labor while their parents were both reading. I didn’t see George or Fred and took Bill's advice and bounded up the stairs. 

Knocking lightly on the door I was met with no response, tried again, nothing. Despite my better judgement I pushed the door open. The room is exactly how you would expect it, slightly messy with blueprints and products strewn about. On each side was a twin bed, one with green covers and the other with blue. On the right side Fred was laying on his stomach, head facing his wall and limbs falling off the sides. George wasn’t in sight. 

I tiptoed around the things on the floor and found his side, sitting down gently in case he was sleeping. There was a tension in the air that made me uneasy and I wanted it gone. I just wanted to spend time with him, I didn’t want to feel like I had to hold my breath. 

I ran my fingers through his hair, unable to hold myself back. I felt him let out a sigh under my touch. He began to shift, picking his head up and adjusting himself so he was facing me. 

“Hey stranger.” I said softly, sending him a smile. His face was unreadable, part way between smiling and frowning like he was fighting himself inside. He scanned me, up and down like he was trying to read my intentions by a quick look. 

“What are you doing up here?” He asked. His voice held no emotion and it stung slightly to see him be so blank with me. 

“I want to see you, we haven’t been able to hang out all day and I missed you.” I kept my head down as I spoke. A beat of silence rang throughout the room. I looked at him for an answer, my eyes met his and I watched the resolve fade away, like a barrier breaking beneath his exterior, his eyes lost their cool touch and they warmed up, returning to their familiar honey pools I know. 

“Get in here.” He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me down to his level. I helped him, situating myself around him, tangling my legs with his and putting my hands on his chest. Both of his arms were around me, pulling me into him like he hadn’t seen me in months, he buried his head in my neck, his hair fell across my face making my giggle at the feeling, realization struck through me as I evaluated his movements in his head. 

“Freddie are you ok?” I asked, my voice was more serious now but his behavior was just hard to read, it felt like since I met his family he had pulled back, the back of my brain was telling me it was because I did something wrong. 

“Yeah I just,” He paused holding his breath. “Please don’t let me go.” His words vibrated against my neck. I felt his arms tighten around me as he spoke, like he was in a dream he didn’t want to wake up from. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it Freddie.” I whispered back, deciding not to push it. Leaning down I placed a small peck to his ginger locks. I felt his mouth curve into a smile against my skin and it made butterflies erupt in my stomach. I felt giddy and drunk, being wrapped up in his arms, smelling, holding, being held by Fred. It was intoxicating and I couldn’t possibly wish for more. 

[simsadventures]

Only Mine: Chapter 8: Introductions

Summary: Bucky takes you to the mansion, to introduce you to the whole crew, but there are a few guys that you aren’t too happy about

Warnings: fluff, implied smut, swearing, mobster au, mafia au

Word Count: 2873

A/N: I just wanted to say that in my fic Peter is 22, so not a canon, just FYI. I also tried a new thing, instead of a gif I created my own collage for this chapter. What do you think? GIFs or Collages? Let me know :) What do we think of the reader’s suspicions? This is also a little filler chapter, and sorry for the long wait. You know, Christmas and all of that :)

Series Masterlist __ Masterlist

< Previous Chapter

True to his words, when a month’s mark hit, you were still snuggled against his side in your apartment. You still never talked about his work, and you didn’t necessarily complain. You knew that it was some dark shit, and that was all you needed. He never came to you in such a bad mood as that day you first gave in, but your relationship, if you could call it that, was blooming.

You didn’t really want to go out of your apartment for entirely selfish reasons. You knew what reputation Bucky had in the town, and you didn’t need to be seen as one of those girls. You were in love with Bucky, that much you were sure of, but the world didn’t know that your relationship was much more than running around and showing off. And they would judge you accordingly, for which you weren’t ready. Not yet.

Bucky tried to take you to his favourite restaurants, but until now, you were able to hold him off, telling him that you rather stayed at home and do other things. He was always more than ready to comply with your wishes and stayed, but you could see the confusion and small amount of anger growing behind his eyes.

It was Friday night when he came to you, and while he was wearing a suit and a shirt, looking like a true gentleman, which made your insides quiver, you were sitting there, in your old jeans and a baggy shirt.

“Doll, c’mon, Get ready, and we can have a nice dinner out, enjoy the night fully.”

You scrunched your nose and shook your head. “Nah, how about we order in and have a nice night in, hm? I could even eat naked,” you said seductively and began to strip, but Bucky’s hand stopped your movement.

“Why don’t you ever want to go out with me? Are you ashamed of me and who I am?” Bucky asked, hurt evident in his voice.

You looked at him, and instead of the big mafia boss everyone was afraid of, there was a little boy in front of you, staring at you with pain in his eyes, pouting slightly. You suddenly felt ashamed and stupid. You didn’t even realise that he could think you didn’t want to be seen with him for who he was.

“No, no, that’s not it, James. I just… I don’t want people to think that I’m one of those girls, you know? That I’m with you to gain something of it. That I like you just because you are kind of famous here in New York. People will assume the worst, and I don’t want that. I like that it’s just us, without the pressures of the world. And also, I don’t want you becoming as you were, when we’re out,” you whispered the last part and hid your face in your palms. You knew you were being childish, but you just couldn’t help yourself.

You could feel Bucky moving so that he was sitting nearer, and when you thought nothing was gonna happen, you felt his hand on your wrist.

“Look at me, Y/N.”

You removed your hands reluctantly but kept your eyes trained on the couch underneath you. Bucky wasn’t having any of it and raised your chin with his fingers. His look was much more inviting now, a small smile playing on his lips.

“I didn’t realise that you would feel bad because of my reputation, but you shouldn’t worry about that. You know that you’re not like those girls to me, and that’s all that matters, right? And how exactly am I acting out?” He smirked a little, and you couldn’t help but giggle.

“They all see you as this arrogant mobster, ready to kill everyone in his sight, which I know would still happen if someone misspoke about you, but with me, you’re different. You’re my James here, and you have the sweetest touches and just… I don’t want you to treat me, even if it is just for show like I’m some whore. But I realise that you cannot show people your softer side. It just… sucks sometimes,” you sighed, wanting to hide again, but Bucky didn’t let you this time. He picked you up gently, sitting you on his lap.

“You’re right, I cannot be as soft as I’m here, people would use it against me. I think that even some of my men would use it against me, but that’s beside the point. I’ve got an idea. We’ll change the setting a little, but it’ll still be just us, what do you say?”

You searched his face and frowned a little. “I’m not going to your fucking apartment if that’s what you’re implying.”

He laughed and shook his head, winking at you. “I’m aware that you’re not ever stepping a foot there, doll. I’m thinking of a different place. I wanted to take you there for quite some time, and I think I finally got the courage to do so.”

You cocked a brow at him. “The courage? Since when do you need to find the courage to do something?”

He scoffed and patted your thigh. “Shut it, and go get ready. We’ll be spending a night there so pack accordingly.”

You rolled your eyes at him and his bossy tone but got up anyway. You knew better than to fight him on such a small thing. You didn’t really know where you were going, but you hoped that Bucky understood why you had an issue with going out just yet, and so you tried to calm your nerves. It would all be alright.

You packed just a light bag, only toiletries, PJs, even if you knew that you probably wouldn’t need it, with Bucky’s appetite, and a pair of jeans and t-shirt for next day morning. You changed into very flimsy lingerie that you bought just a few days ago. It was red and almost entirely see-through, and the second you saw it, you knew Bucky would enjoy it as much as you did. You put on a tight red dress, accentuated your hips and chest, you two biggest assets. You re-did your make up, trying to look a little more like human than house garbage.

It was almost an hour later that you finally got out of your room, Bucky looking spectacularly pissed. But when he turned his head and opened his mouth, probably to ask you what was taking you so fucking long (you could even hear him in your mind), no sound left his lips. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed dry.

He took you all in, looking like his dream, all sultry and beautiful. His eyes darkened, and you could see that his mind was suddenly less on going out and more on stripping you off your clothes and devouring your body all night long.

Bucky stood up from the couch and marched towards you, pulling you into his defined chest and kissing you breathless. You could feel his hands splayed on your thighs, travelling north. You quickly grabbed his wrist, and he gave you a dissatisfied growl.

“I wanted to stay here and eat naked, but you were dead set on going out. This is my going out outfit, and I wish it stays on me at least till we dined.”

Bucky groaned into your neck and kneaded your ass. “I’m not sure if I can wait that long, Y/N. You shouldn’t have worn something so sexy, I won’t be able to think all night.”

You smirked and kissed his cheek, getting out of his embrace and towards your door. “You can train your self-control, my dear. Let’s go, I’m getting hungry, and not only for food.”

The sound that came deep out of Bucky’s chest was something between groan and growl, and it sent shivers down your spine.

—-

The car ride was joyful. You paid no attention to Bucky and his boring stares, instead, you talked with Peter who was driving you to the place Bucky was adamant not to disclose. Peter was such a sweet kid that you had to wonder why he was involved with the mafia in the first place. You could imagine him going to University. You thought he still had more than enough time to do so, but you knew you had no say in all of that.

Bucky wasn’t enjoying the ride as much as you did. All he wanted to do was to strip you of that provocative dress and have your way with you. But no, he had to be an idiot and insist on going out. He was now sitting in the car, pissed at himself and at Peter, who was being a friendly asshole as always and to top it all you were having too much fun without him for his liking. Bucky was a jealous man, and he didn’t realise what he was doing by bringing you to where he was bringing you.

When a colossal mansion appeared in your window, you stopped mid-sentence and just stared. It was beautiful. It was elegant with huge windows in some of which lights were lit. You were pretty sure your mouth was hanging open, but you didn’t care. You abruptly turned to Bucky and gave him a confused look before you turned to your window again to stare at the beauty.

Bucky chuckled slightly, happy that you were still as confused as when you two left your apartment. There was a little nagging voice in his head, questioning this move of his, but he couldn’t feel more confident in bringing you to his house. Not his apartment, which most of the city saw, let’s be honest. This was truly his home.

He never brought a girl there, not intentionally anyway. There were few instances of him sleeping with women he was supposed to have a meeting with, but that was beside the point. There has never been a woman that he’d willingly and consciously brought to his home, to get to know him better.

His maid, Magda, was instructed to cook dinner for Bucky and his guest, and he knew that the old lady, being with him ever since he was a little child would have her eyes and ears open just to see who this guest was.

“Where-where are we, Bucky?” You asked incredulously, still amazed by the palace in front of you.

“I promised not to bring you to my apartment, and I intend to keep that promise. This is something more for me, this is my home. And I would like to show you around.”

Bucky was watching your every move and change of emotions on your face. He could see the disbelief, the relief, the excitement, he could see it all. Peter, meanwhile, opened your door and the two of you got out of the car. Bucky, ever the gentleman (well… ever with you, anyway) almost ran around the car to help you out, and he held out a hand for you to grab.

The inside of the house was even more spectacular than the outside. Everything was modern but elegant and simplistic. You could see the house was divided into quarters. Down on your right, everything looked a little darker and more office-like. Bucky was taking you through the rooms telling you where was what. The offices, meeting rooms and such (also the dungeons, but you politely refused to see those) were in the down right quarter.

Down left, space was devoted to a huge kitchen where an older lady called Magda was standing and smiling at you. Behind the kitchen and the vast dining room was what Bucky called the common room with multiple couches and armchairs. It looked really comfortable and here were seated first few of Bucky’s men.

They introduced themselves as Sam and Steve, names you already heard from Bucky’s stories.

“We’re glad to finally officially meet you, Y/N. This idiot right here won’t shut up about you, but damn, he didn’t do you justice. You’re one juicy piece,” Sam hollered, and it earned him a jab to his ribs by Bucky. You stifled a laugh, but when Steve punched Bucky stomach, and they all started to hit each other as if they were 5 year-olds, you couldn’t help yourself.

“Could you two idiots act like adults at least this time? I want to show my lady around.”

Whoops and cheers came from the two guys, and Bucky only sent them death glares before he grabbed your hand and dragged you out of there. He didn’t need his friends ogling you any more.

This quarter of the house also had a huge gym, in which few guys were again, and you were introduced to all of them. You could see that the interaction between Bucky and Steve and Sam was exceptional because when he introduced you to Luke and others, his tone and posture changed from friend to mafia boss. You didn’t comment on it, because you knew it was pointless.

The upper floor was much more personal. The people that lived in the mansion had their left-wing, all for themselves. Some of them were standing by their doors, and you greeted each one of them. And then there was Bucky’s wing. It included a luxurious bedroom, his own private dining room, master bathroom, which you thought was as big as your whole apartment with Nat. There was also his personal library and to that connected office, to which only his men had access.

Overall the house was insane, and you knew you’d enjoy spending your time with Bucky there. The bed looked exceptionally spacious and comfortable. Definitely much better than your Ikea queen-sized one.

You were coming down the stairs with Bucky to ask Magda when your food would be ready (Bucky was mainly curious if he had enough time for some fun times), and that was when you met last of Bucky’s men. Both of them were huge and muscly. One of them had tattoo sleeves, and even some tattoos on his neck, short hair and a deathly stare. The other one had no visible tattoos, but his face wasn’t any more inviting.

“Y/N, this is Brock Rumlow and Bob Johnson, probably the last of my men you haven’t yet met. Guys, this is Y/N.”

They both nodded, but the sly smiles on their lips made you shiver uncomfortably. Until then, all of the guys seemed friendly and welcoming, at least for mobsters, but these two gave you the creeps. They were the type you’d be afraid to meet walking home at night. You made a mental note never to wander around the mansion alone because these two seemed like they didn’t care that you obviously came with their boss. They were shamelessly ogling your ass and your breasts, one of them even licking their lips at the sight of you.

Bucky seemed to have noticed how uncomfortable you were, so he nodded at them and continued his way down to the kitchen.

You still couldn’t shake off the weird feeling that settled somewhere deep inside you after meeting Brock and Bob, and even after the beautiful dinner Magda made for the two of you, you were unsettled.

“What is going on, doll? I can hear the thoughts in your mind racing,” he whispered to your ear and put a hand on your bare thigh.

“Nothing, I’m probably just overreacting, you know? Maybe if you took my mind off everything, it wouldn’t be as loud.”

He smirked and pushed his hand under your dress, massaging your hip. “Oh, baby doll. I want you to be as loud as possible, so all the fuckers know that I’m the only one making you feel good. You and your damn dress, trying to either kill me or making me kill every single man seeing you in the dress, starting with Peter. You seemed to have liked the guys quite a lot.” He was growling now, and you smirked.

You would be lying to say that his jealousy didn’t make you even wetter. But you knew that you shouldn’t entertain these thoughts in his head, because he was actually that person who would act on it if he decided so.

“He is nice, sure, but you do know that I’m only yours, right? There is no other man for me, but my sexy bad mafia boss. But maybe, just maybe, you should remind me who do I belong to,” you whispered to his ear with fervour, and it was all that it took for Bucky to push you on his bed and jump on you.

But before you let him have his way with you, you made another mental note, not remember the two guys, feeling like they might not have Bucky’s best interests in mind. And you hated just the thought that the men who were there to protect your James, among other things, might not be the most trustworthy. But you needed more facts than your suspicions if you were to tell Bucky. You just hoped you were wrong and your spidey-senses were wrong this time. Not that they have been that many times before, but still.

/Next Chapter >

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[copias-thrall]

Worth

Things have been Not Great, so I wrote an angsty Mary fic to cope.

FYI: this is not a lighthearted, heart-of-gold Mary fic. He’s kind of an asshole, and there are some heavy themes.

*brief domestic abuse (not Mary); angst; recreational drug use*

It happened after an impromptu party at her place.

The bars had closed, but no one was ready to stop—so everyone had grabbed some beers and snacks from the all-nighter and headed back to her place. Friends of friends were called, and suddenly at 4am there were maybe 30 people in the cramped 3 bedroom in a run-down house she shared, complete with a DJ and speakers. They'd partied even after the sun came up, too drunk or high to give a shit.

When she passed out around 11am, there were still 10 or so people grinding on each other or playing a slapped-together game of beer pong in the living room.

Waking up at 4pm had been a disconcerting experience, but at least she wasn't too hungover. She’d shuffled out to the living room to assess the damage (lots of trash, but fortunately no irreparable damage)—and that's when she heard noises in the kitchen.

She’d made her way there and saw a skinny punk boy with floppy hair and smeared makeup making eggs on her stove. Upon her arrival, he’d turned and said,

“Oh, hey. You want some?”

And that’s how she became friends with Mary.

***

He was suddenly around all the time.

Sometimes he’d show up early evening with a 6-pack, and the two of them would smoke weed, or play video games, or she’d listen to him pontificate about the musical artist of the week he was mainlining before he left to troll the bars.

Sometimes he’d show up on her couch in the morning, sleeping off the night before, and she’d have to coax him up with coffee and the promise of bacon before he stumbled back out into the world to do whatever it was that Marys do during the daytime.

For a while he became something of an unofficial roommate to everyone—sometimes bringing supplies, other times eating what wasn’t his; sometimes leaving a mess of dishes in the sink, other times taking out the trash—but always her friend first.

That all changed the night one of her roommates gave the couch to a friend from out-of-town. There’d been a soft knocking at her door, and then Mary was slipping into her room.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“You mind if I sleep on your floor?”

She’d looked down at the space rug that she hadn’t vacuumed in months.

“I don’t mind scooting over. But you have to lose some layers. I don’t want your denim pressing into me all night.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

He’d hesitantly stripped down to a t-shirt and boxers before sliding into the space she’d made for him. There’d been some jostling, but Mary had kept his hands to himself.

The friend had finally left the couch, but Mary never left her bed.

Now when he needed a place to crash, he crawled in through her window in the middle of the night to slip into bed with her. (And maybe there was some snuggling—but two friends sharing a twin was perfectly normal, right?) He suddenly seemed to prefer hanging out in her room—chilling cross legged on her mattress as he packed a bowl or they cued up a movie on Netflix—only showing his face in the common rooms anymore when there was food to be had.

Her other roommates even remarked on his lack of presence, to which she’d shrugged. He was her friend, after all.

One morning changed everything.

She’d woken up from a steamy sex dream still unsatisfied—still wet and throbbing between her legs. Half awake, she’d mewled in frustration and rolled onto her stomach, hand reaching down between her body and the bed so she could rock into it.

“Um.”

At the sound of Mary’s voice, she’d frozen. Suddenly fully awake, she’d snatched her hand back up, scrambled to the other side of the bed, and plastered herself against the wall.

“I was just! It wasn’t! I didn’t know …”

Mary was lying stock still, face flushed and very obviously affected. Seeing where her gaze had landed, his hands had flown to cover his erection.

“Uh. Sorry. But you were … you know.”

She’d quickly gone from mortified to fascinated.

“That … turned you on?”

His blush deepened.

“Well … yeah.”

“Why?”

He’d gone to gesture, remembered his predicament, didn’t.

“You were touching yourself. I mean. I thought maybe you were having a nightmare and then …” He’d shrugged. “Kinda hot.”

“You thought it was hot? Even though it’s me?” She didn’t think someone like Mary could find someone like her attractive. That’s why he’d never hit on her, right?

“Even though you’re my friend?”

“Because I’m. Me.” She’d swept her hands up and down her body.

He’d rolled onto his side and carefully arranged the sheets to cover him. She’d watched as his hand reached out to rest on her knee.

“You’re very attractive.”

She’d scoffed at him. “I have a mirror. You don’t need to patronize me.”

His hand had scooted up to her thigh, and he’d looked up at her. Her heart had begun to pound just as all the blood that wasn’t already between her legs rushed through her ears.

“Do you … want me … to show you how attractive I find you?”

His hand had slowly traveled up the leg, and was now resting on her sweaty inner thigh. Adrenaline was coursing through her—making it hard to verbalize her need for him to keep going—so when she’d opened her mouth, all that had come out was a whimper. Still looking up at her, Mary had pressed his thumb with unnerving accuracy into her clit.

Like it had been a release valve, she’d let out a long whine as her body opened up. His thumb had continued to pet at her clit through her dampening panties, and she’d rocked into his touch, legs splaying wide.

And maybe it was because she’d been so worked up already. Or maybe it was because it had been so long since someone else had touched her. Maybe it was the dangerous expression on Mary’s face … but she’d cum in no time—her clit bubbling as she twitched and groaned to each pulsing wave.

Before she’d had time to come down—or feel embarrassed—Mary was on her, all previous attempts at modesty gone as he’d pressed his hard-on into her thigh.

“Can I fuck you?” he’d mouthed into her neck.

Her first instinct had been to tell him “yes” … but it had been so long since anything bigger than a finger had been in her, and she’d hesitated. Feeling her tense, Mary had backed off.

“Or, I could just jack off.”

“No—I …” she’d wiggled around and kicked off her sticky panties. “Thighs ok?”

Mary had eagerly pressed into her back. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s great. Wanna feel how wet you are.”

There had been some wiggling around on his part—to divest himself of his boxers, she’d supposed—and then she’d felt as his dick eased between her closed thighs. He’d grunted, and then his arms came around her: one held her hips steady while he thrust, the other grazed and pinched at her nipples through her nightshirt.

“So hot,” he’d said as his lips smeared down her neck. “Wanted you for a while.” They came back up to press behind her ear.

All she’d been able to manage in return was a gasp as his clever fingers worked at her body—his free hand grazing her nipples and his steadying hand slipping down to rub at her clit again. Panting, he’d brought her to climax once more before clutching her tightly to him so he could finally pump himself to release as well.

Wheezing into her shoulder, Mary’s hips had finally stuttered, and he’d let out a breathy moan right before she’d felt the wetness of his cum start to drip down her thighs. Languidly, he’d rocked his hips as he worked himself through the aftershocks; then,his arms had loosened their hold, and he’d sighed before placing a quick kiss to the back of her neck.

“Good?”

Her head was spinning, and she’d murmured out a “Yeah.”

He’d shifted around, his arms withdrawing from her space.

“C’mon, let’s go back to sleep. Still early.”

“But the mess …” she’d begun, but he’d just pulled her onto his chest.

“Later.”

Mary had fallen asleep immediately, but she’d lain awake wondering what whatever the fuck had just happened meant.

***

Neither of them really talked about it later, but Mary had stopped showing up just to hang. Instead, she’d leave her window open, and most nights he’d crawl through her window in the AM and stick around for breakfast. A fresh box of condoms (since the existing ones in her underwear drawer were 5yrs old) and a few solo practice sessions later had her back on the horse. Mary had relished the full access to her body, delighting in fucking her lazily while he played her body—his mouth sucking on all the right spots while his hands and fingers teased at her other erogenous zones.

He always made sure she came before he did—often multiple times—before finally letting loose and using her body to get off. He always seemed so desperate for it, and she was happy to let him use her—afterward contently sighing into his chest while basking in the afterglow as his arms wrapped around her. It was nice to be wanted, to be touched—even if she missed the part where the two of them drank shitty beer and talked shit while gaming.

When she voiced her regret to her roommate, they had just rolled their eyes at her.

“Have you been out of the game that long? He was courting you then. That’s just how men are. Don’t worry about it.”

So, she tried not to.

***

It’s one of those nights she feels the stirring to go out. She tries to coax one of her roomies to come with her, but they all beg off with the excuse of work in the morning.

“I do too! We don’t have to stay super late!”

But they remain unmoved.

So, she shimmies into the dress that makes her feel the best about herself, pust her face on, and goes out for a drink.

The bar is moderately crowded when she gets there, and she makes a beeline for the electronic jukebox, determined to get some of her bops into the queue so maybe she’ll even get to hear them before she leaves.

Satisfied, she approaches the bar to order a chocolate porter. And hey, wait!—she recognizes that shape across the bar! As her eyes adjust, she's even more certain that it’s Mary. A smile breaks out on her face—she can’t wait to surprise him after she gets her beer.

Pint glass in hand, she makes her way through the bodies to the other side of the bar to where Mary is talking to the pink-haired woman next to him. He’s so engrossed that he doesn’t notice her standing in front of him. In fact, it’s the woman he’s talking to who notices her first.

“Um, hello?” says Pink Hair.

“Oh. I … just wanted to say hi to Mary.”

Mary looks over at her, but his expression is guarded.

“Oh, hey.”

“Hey!”

Pink Her takes an exaggerated sip of her cocktail.

“Did you need something? Because I’m kinda busy here,” he says.

She can feel her smile fall. “Oh. O-ok. I just thought …”

“Look, I’ll catch you later or something, ok?”

Her stomach turns to ice. “Oh, um. Ok, sure.” She starts to say that she’ll be here for a bit, but he’s already turning back around, a smile breaking on his face just for Pink Hair as his hand goes to res on the woman’s knee.

As she stiffly walks away, she hears Pink Hair say, “Who was that?” and Mary respond, “Just some girl who follows me around. You know how it is.”

On autopilot—heart making a rapid tattoo against her ribs—she makes her way to an open high-top. Her good mood has evaporated like water during a scorcher. The sensible thing to do would be to go home—but she hates herself, so she stands there, nursing her beer and trying to make it look like she’s not zeroed in on Mary and his … friend? No need to think the worst. Maybe Pink Hair’s having a rough day and Mary’s listening to her. He’s good like that.

Her bubble of delusion pops when she sees him lean in to kiss Pink Hair’s neck. When his mouth meets the woman’s, her heart officially drops into her stomach … but for some reason she can’t seem to look away. She feels an almost destructive need to make herself see this.

The two of them make out for a bit before Mary puts a bill on the bar and they start to make their way to the exit. For half a second Mary’s eyes catch hers across the bar … and then they slide away, his hand on the small of Pink Hair’s back as they leave together.

She watches the door for a long time after they disappear. She wonders if she’s going to be sick.

Beer unfinished, she sluggishly makes her way to the door, no longer interested in a night out. As she walks home in a daze, she keeps replaying the entire thing over and over in her head to the extent that she walks half a block past her apartment.

Her roommates are still up when she makes it inside, but she just mumbles out a “Hey” and goes straight to her room. For several minutes she just stands there, unsure of the next action to take: change clothes? smash things? brush her teeth? cry?

She ends up walking over to her window. Instead of lifting the pane open, she makes sure it’s closed all the way before thumbing the latch to locked. To make a further statement, she pulls her curtains shut. Mechanically, she undresses and crawls into bed—she'll brush her teeth in the morning.

It’s only because she's still awake—her brain unable to shut off—that she hears it: little plinks. At first she wonders if it’s raining, and then she realizes something is hitting the window pane. A glance at her clock tells her it’s 3:56am.

Even though she already knows what she'll find, she sloughs over to the window and parts the curtains. There’s Mary in his leather jacket, arm raised as if to throw another pebble. He grimaces at her, then motions for her to open the window.

But she's just some girl, so she closes the curtains again and gets back into bed.

As she lays there, a horrible thought passes through her brain: Is this how it always is? He always shows up around the same time every night. Has … has he been coming to her after he’s had his way with his stunning girl du jour? Is she just a warm bed to sleep in after they kick him out? How many times has she been sloppy seconds? Was he even attracted to her, or were those just pretty words to keep him in her bed?

Rolling over for the hundredth time, she thinks about how he always fucks her with her back pressed into him. She'd always thought it was nice—cuddled up close to Mary, his hands free to touch her everywhere … but now she wonders if it was so he didn’t have to look at her, so he could pretend she was the girl he’d just left.

Well. No more.

The next several days crawl. Her roommates give her a wide berth, waiting for her to say something … or not. Every night around 4am, she hears the telltale plink of detritus hitting her window, but she doesn't show her face again.

She wishes he’d just go away.

And then he does, and she wishes she knew what she wanted.

***

She never does say anything to her roommates, but with her mood and the lack of a Mary Goore, they put two-and-two together. They arrange movie nights with vodka and popcorn; they drag her out to clubs that play booty music; they snarl at any man who dares approach her.

She'd never met Mary before her house party, and now it’s like she can’t go to a bar without running into him. The first couple of times, her friends and roommates had barred him from interacting with her with hissed words and thinly-veiled threats, and he’d backed off. But as the leeway around The Event wears off, she eventually has to tell him to fuck off herself.

“But I just want to …”

“No. We’re done, Mary.”

“But—”

“Go away. Or I’m gonna grab a bouncer.”

She feels like she already knows what he’s going to say, anyway, and she’s already exhausted. While she never assumed he was her boyfriend, she had assumed they were exclusive. But: it’s not like the two of them ever talked about what they were, so he has her there … and she can’t help feel like he got away on a technicality on that point. Even before he started sharing her bed and then fucking her, Mary was crashing at her place on the reg. Was it so outlandish to think he wasn’t working his way through half the scene before crawling into bed with her?

And what good can he say about the cruel way he’d dismissed her? Perhaps even going out of his way to show her exactly what she meant to him?

As if she were nothing.

Some. Girl.

No. She has nothing more to say to Mary Goore.

***

Mary finally takes the hint. Now when she sees him out, he sends her looks, but doesn’t attempt to talk to her anymore. She knows all she needs to know anyway when she sees him still consistently leaving with a hottie on his arm.

So it’s with some surprise to her that he tries again in a way that takes her completely off guard.

It’s late in the evening, and for once she doesn't see Mary skulking about the bar she's at. A woman approaches her table and asks if she can talk to her. She thinks maybe the woman needs help, or likes her shoes or something—If she'd known what the woman was about, she'd have never agreed.

“What’s up?” she asks when the two of them are alone at a free high-top in the corner.

“I’m one of Mary’s friends, and—”

She scoffs and makes to go, but the woman rests a hand on her arm.

“No! Wait, hear me out.”

The woman’s eyes plead, and—against her better judgement—she stays.

“You’re not going to convince me of anything.”

“Just listen, ok?”

She folds her arms.

“Look, Mary’s really sorry. He’s really torn up about it. You don’t even—”

“I don’t give a shit about how he feels.”

The woman swallows. “He really does feel awful about the misunderstanding, and—”

“No,” she hisses, making a cut off motion with her arm. The woman’s mouth clicks shut. “Fine, I get it—I shouldn’t have assumed I was the only one he was fucking. That’s on me, I guess. But there was no misunderstanding. He wasn’t confused when he pretended I was just some sad little girl mooning after him. And I don’t know if he saw sex with me as repayment for giving him a place to crash or if my spreading my legs for him just an added bonus.” She's pretty sure her face is purple at this point. "But I seriously doubt he didn’t understand that fucking one person and then leaving to fuck another in the same night is not acceptable—especially without telling them.”

“I … he—”

“So I don’t care how many sympathetic friends he gets to do his dirty work, I’m fucking done with him. He can find another warm body to dupe. He certainly doesn’t lack options.” She starts to walk away and then turns back. “This isn’t some version of hard to get. I want him to leave me alone.”

***

She meets Benny at a friend of a friend’s house party. He’s … ok. Kind of pompous and into himself—but charismatic and funny. And if she wasn’t looking to fill the Mary-Shaped void (instead of waiting for it to close on its own) she probably would have just tossed his number. But he focuses his wattage on her, and his eyes take in her body like it’s a treat, so she thinks: what the hell?

As a boyfriend he’s … ok. He takes her out on dates and buys her small trinkets—so she purposefully overlooks that he has to have his own way. And when she’d been upfront about looking for exclusivity, he’d said they both were both on the same page. So what if he has the tendency to talk over her? It’s not like it’s forever.

In bed he’s … ok. Not exactly a thoughtful dynamo, but he touches her body and meets her eyes during sex—and that’s more than she's had in a while. So what if he sometimes makes little comments about what a catch he is and how lucky she is? It’s not like anyone else is asking to be put on her dance card.

He’s not Mary—but what had Mary been, really? Some guy who’d trespassed on her hospitality because she’d been so starved for contact that she confused gratitude for affection.

It’s inevitable that they run into Mary at a bar—she’s surprised it hadn’t happened sooner—but that doesn’t mean she has to like it.

She and Benny are at the bar eating rubbery burgers and decent fried pickle chips with a pitcher of beer to wash it all down when she looks across the bar and catches Mary glowering at her. She ignores him, and she resolves to put him out of her mind.

Her resolution is blown to shit when she comes back from the bathroom and she sees Mary on a stool next to Benny.

“… you hardly have to do anything. Oh hey, babe.”

“Hey.” She climbs back up onto her stool.

He turns to her. “This is—wait for it—Mary.”

Mary’s eyes bore into hers. She sticks her hand across Benny.

“Hi, Mary. Nice to meet you.”

He limply takes her hand, gives it a shake, then lets go.

“I’m gonna hit the head. Try not to talk about me,” says Benny with a wink.

When he’s well out of earshot, Mary lays into her.

“Are you fucking serious with this guy?”

“What’s it to you?” She pops a pickle chip into her mouth.

“He’s an asshole. He was just telling me he dates girls like you because you’re so grateful for the attention that you’ll accept anything.”

She's a little stung that Mary thinks of her as ugly too—some part of her had been holding onto the scrap that maybe Mary hadn’t been lying about finding her attractive.

She continues to graze the pickles.

“Well, I am grateful, Mary. I’m not like you; I don’t have people lined up around the block waiting to fuck me. I was grateful you were willing to fuck me, and I’m grateful he likes touching me.” She locks her gaze with his. “At least he isn’t ashamed to be seen with me in public.”

Mary’s mouth opens and closes like a fish. Benny’s reappearance interrupts his attempt to form a coherent retort.

"Getting acquainted, I see.”

“Sure,” she says.

“No, that’s good.” He turns to grin at her. “See, Mary here came over to express his …” Benny sucks his teeth and gives her a once over. “Interest in what a … healthy-looking girl you are.”

She squints in confusion as Mary’s face shows open shock.

“That’s not what I …” Mary sputters.

Benny puts his hand over hers.

“Do you think we could accommodate him, babe?”

“What?” she spits out as Mary tries to back away as much as he can while still sitting.

Benny looks at Mary and then at her with a knowing glance. His hand comes up to brush at her cheekbone.

“What would you think about me watching him fuck you?”

If it were any other guy, she might have thrown her drink on Benny—but any disgust she feels toward him seems to be overridden by the opportunity to get in a jab at Mary. Glancing over, she pretends to assess him.

“No,” she says with as much haughtiness as she can muster. “He looks like a hobo. I don’t want to catch fleas.”

Mary actually has the audacity to look hurt.

“Well, let it never be said I couldn’t take a hint.”

He slides off the stool and walks away.

“Hey, wait—she didn’t mean …” sputters Benny.

They watch in silence as he exits the bar.

Benny turns to her. “Why the fuck would you say something like that?”

“Why would you?” she retorts as she crams the last of the burger into her maw.

The mood effectively killed, they pay and head out.

The walk back to his place is a quiet one, both of them annoyed at the other for very different reasons. Once in his apartment, she's barely hung up her coat before Benny is laying into her.

“What that fuck was that back there, huh? Do you know how embarrassing that was for me?”

She rolls her eyes at him.

“My ‘gratitude’ has limits, Benny.”

The slap comes out of nowhere. More of an open-handed punch, really. She goes stumbling backwards, momentarily stunned. When her hand touches her face, it comes away with blood from a split lip. When she looks up, Benny is looking at her coldly, but calmly.

“You hit me,” she says, incredulous.

“I think I’ve been really good about restraining myself until now. You know how you are.”

It should say something that she's more annoyed that Mary was right about wasting her time on an asshole like Benny than she is in fear of him.

She grits her teeth.

“We’re fucking done, Benny.”

His face contorts in a journey of annoyance, disbelief, and irritation.

“You think anyone else is going to want you? Just look at you. You’re lucky to have me.”

“Mary wanted me,” she says.

“What?”

“The guy at the bar. For the record, I’ve already fucked him, and he might have bedbugs, but he’s a much better lay.”

Benny, face red, crowds into her space. “Are you really trying to provoke me right now?”

“You’re right. I’m actually leaving.”

“Bitch, you think—” he moves to grab her wrists, but she pushes him, hard.

He stumbles back and trips over his rug, landing on his ass. It would be comical except for the dark look he gives her. Feeling a sudden lance of fear, she goes for the door, knocking the end table over as an extra obstacle for him. She wastes precious seconds yanking hard at her coat as she flees—hearing it tear somewhere as it pulls free—since her phone and her wallet are in the pockets.

She catches a glimpse of him just getting to his feet yelling, “You fucking cunt,” as she slams the door behind her. Heart pounding, she runs up a flight of stairs, hoping to fake him out—but his door slams open just in time for him to see her.

“You never had it so good!” he screams as he climbs after her.

She chances running down the hall on the next floor to get to the back stairwell, but she’s not quick enough. “If you leave don’t expect me to take you back,” she hears as she practically vaults down the next flight. Instead of continuing or booking it back to the main stairwell, she sprints to the turn in the hall and stops—back pressed against the wall, hand across her mouth as she pants.

Benny’s footfalls stop as he reaches the landing to his floor then pause. She can hear him let out a Fuck, and she tenses—ready to claw if he comes around the corner—but he continues on down the hall. It sounds like he searches the main stairwell again, but it’s hard to tell.

She remains there, getting her breathing back under control and listening intently for the telltale sounds he’s checking the back stairs again … but so far: nothing. As she waits to make sure Benny isn’t going to chase after her, she has time to think about what she'd said to goad him. Part of her wonders if she didn’t have it good with Mary after all; the more reasonable part reminds herself that she deserves better than either of them—even if that means no one.

Finally, she hears him stomping and cursing, and then the slam of his door. Even so, she still waits—playing repeating songs over in her head—before craning her head around the L of the hall. Seeing nothing suspicious, she carefully slinks to the back stairs, lightly tiptoeing down them until she reaches the emergency exit. Uncaring about an alarm, she slams it open, making her way into the cooling night air.

She runs all the way home, never stopping to even put on her coat.

***

For months she’d kept her bedroom window closed and locked—not wanting to give Mary the impression that an open window was an invitation—but after his attempts had stopped with his friend’s plea, she'd felt comfortable cracking it open again.

Which is why several days after the incident with Benny, Mary can once again climb through her window. He scares the bejesus out of her—part of her half-asleep brain convinced it’s Benny here to enact retribution.

Something in her eyes must convey her alarm because he blurts out, “Hey, hey—it’s just me.”

She's relieved until she remembers how pissed at him she is.

“What the fuck, Mary.”

“Sorry.”

She sits up in bed and turns on her bedside lamp.

“Are you fucking kidding me? What about my memo didn’t you get?”

He rubs the back of his neck.

“I know—I’m sorry. I just. I wanted to make sure you were ok.”

“Because I obviously must be wasting away without a dick to fill me?”

He gives her a strange look.

“No. Because of …” He makes a flapping gesture with his hand.

“Because of … what? First word? Sounds like?”

His brows furrow.

“Shit. You don’t know.”

She rubs at her eyes. “It’s fucking late, Mary. Help me out.”

“May I?” he asks as he goes to sit on the edge of her bed.

“No,” she hisses, and he pops back up.

He teeters awkwardly before turning it into a lean against her dresser.

“Benny’s been around. Saying shit.”

“Lemme guess: he’s been talking shit about putting me in my place with a firm hand or something? Maybe that he broke up with me because I’m pathetic? Neither of which are true, by the way.”

Mary actually looks nervous.

“Um. Kinda. But it’s …”

“What?” she snaps.

He takes a deep breath.

“He’s been saying that he found out you were cheating on him so he ‘taught you a lesson’ by ‘destroying your ass’ before kicking you to the curb. He, um. Described it in great detail.”

She stares at Mary, stunned.

“What?”

He rubs his neck again, unable to meet her eyes.

“It’s just. His accuracy … I had to make sure you were ok.”

She realizes she’s balling her fists in her sheet, so she unclenches.

“Oh,” she says. “Well, thanks. I guess.”

“So you are? Ok?”

She rubs her face with her hands.

“I mean, he hit me, but—”

“What?” barks Mary as he looks up at her sharply.

“Yeah. He was pissed I declined to let you fuck me in front of him, so he slapped me. I told him to fuck off and left.”

Mary goes to examine her face before he remembers she's no longer his to touch.

“Sorry,” he mumbles as he backs away again.

“I’m fine, Mary. Just a split lip. Practically healed. You didn’t even notice it.”

“Well, you’re light’s fucking dim. You didn’t even notice …” He trails off.

“Notice what, Mary?”

“Nothing.”

“Notice. What?”

He sighs and holds out his hands. She sees immediately that his knuckles are bruised and bloody.

“Mary! Your hands!”

Before she can stop herself, she shoots up and grabs his hands to examine the damage.

“What happened?”

“Do you really want to know?”

She squints up at him, feeling like she already knows the answer.

“Tell me.”

He sighs.

“True or not, I just couldn’t let that douche talk shit about you in public. I wasn’t the only one, either, you know—you have more friends that you think you do. A couple of us … drove home that he needed to shut the fuck up and move on.”

She hates that she feels thankful, but she is.

And then he has to go and ruin the moment by saying, “I’m not really boyfriend material, you know.”

She lets his hands go.

“That’s such a fucking cop out, Mary. An excuse to keep you from responsibility.”

He makes a frustrated noise.

“I have friends and I have people I fuck. I’m not …. I don’t have friends I fuck.”

The old feelings of righteous indignation flare up.

“Then why? We could have written off that first morning as a one off. Laughed about it as half-asleep shenanigans. Why keep fucking me?”

His head thunks back against the wall.

“Because I was fucking selfish, ok? Sleeping next to you for weeks without touching you was a special kind of torture. I didn’t think I could go back to that. And I wanted … I wanted you to feel good. That’s what I’m good at: making people feel good. You think that you’re this troll who’s lucky if someone looks at you, and I needed to show you that you’re not. Just because you don’t see it doesn’t mean you aren’t hot, ok? Your problem isn’t that you’re ‘ugly’—it’s that you refuse to believe anyone could be into you. You miss what’s right in front of you—and I don’t even mean me.”

Her lather gets up.

“Well, congrats: you did, you asshole. You made me feel like I could be worth something. You came by and talked to me about shit and slept in my bed and touched me like I wasn’t a gross beach ball. And then you,” tears suddenly well in her eyes, “and then you treated me like trash. You tell me you wanted to show me I was worth something, but then you treated me like I was some delusional fangirl—like you weren’t coming here and fucking me every night—so you could go home with a fucking goth model. You made sure you weren’t even subtle. Was I ever more than just the after party, Mary? Some place to slink to after the main event so you didn’t have to go home?”

Piece said, she scrubs her eyes and sniffles at Mary. He only stares back at her as the minutes start to tick by uncomfortably.

Just when she's given up on getting a response from him, he says,

“I just assumed you understood who I was.”

She waits for more. Anything else.

But that’s it. That’s all he has to say.

“I didn’t, but I do now,” she says tiredly. “And I deserve better than your paltry offering.”

Again, he has the audacity to look hurt.

She settles herself back into her covers.

“I appreciate you beating the shit out of Benny, but I really do wish you’d leave me alone. My open window just means I’d like some fresh air.”

“I—”

“Leave,” she hisses as she drapes her arm over her eyes.

It takes a moment, but then she hears Mary shuffle over to the window and scramble out of it.

And then all she hears is the wind blowing through the trees.

.

.

.

.

.

.

Epilogue

And that could be the end of it.

It certainly feels like the end of the 2yr entanglement with Mary Goore. He seems to disappear from her life just as suddenly as he arrived. Everyone around her vows to hate him on principle even if she suspects a few of them still smoke with him.

One of her roommates moves out, and one that she ends up hating moves in.

She gets a new job, and has a brief affair with a colleague that ends in tears when he realizes he actually is ready to marry his ex.

Once or twice she Googles Mary, but he has zero social media presence—just a few blurry, red-eyed pics of him with other people from the scene.

She moves into a place with another girl from work.

Two of her friends get married to each other.

She pays off her student debt and buys a modest place.

Occasionally she hears mention of one of his shenanigans, but never anything substantial. Never anything about his lovers.

More of her friends get married.

She finds herself missing the days when she could do casual shots with roommates and still be fresh for work the next day.

She dates every asshole her dating app has to offer before deleting them all and buying some very nice toys.

Sometimes she goes out to her old haunts and watches the social shit show with fondness.

Mary becomes like that song: someone she used to know.

Until …

He isn’t.

It’s in that Japanese coffee shop of all places that she finally sees him—the man behind the myth—again. She’s tapping away at her laptop, latte in hand, when she sees him in line. At first, she doesn’t even think it’s him.

She thinks, “Huh. That dude looks like Mary Goore.” But the longer she stares, the more she realizes that it is Mary Goore.

Mary used to be a skinny-ass noodle boy. His hair was always greasy and flaky with product. Even when clean, his clothes were covered in stains and holes. His leather jacket was dull with half the lining ripped away, and his Docs were covered in black duct tape. Under his makeup, his face was handsome, but covered in acne.

This … man is still very slender, but his shoulders have broadened, and she thinks she can detect a little potbelly. His hair is still styled, but it looks clean. He looks clean. His leather jacket looks lived in, but is still shiny. The black jeans are still molded onto his legs … but the only rips are at his knees and—unlike the only pair she ever saw him wear—don’t look like they’d ooze oil if you pressed hard. The ends are tucked into boots that—while scuffed—aren’t cracked or peeling. When he turns to stare absently at the wall, she can see that his face has filled out a bit, but the makeup is more subtle—still white in pallor, but instead of clunky skull accents, his eyes and cheeks are sleek and contoured.

The old feeling of longing stirs in her gut.

It’s why, stupidly, instead of being satisfied with just this glimpse, she says (in a hesitant, wavering voice), “Mary?” after he gets his order. She doesn't know why she does this to herself. It’s not like she wants to hear about his marriage or his kids. Or worse—how he’s still giving it away for free like that’s all he’s worth.

Despite various diets and exercise regimes, she's only grown more womanly—but she's learned that what Mary told her all those years ago was truth: she was the only thing cockblocking herself.

To-go cup in hand, he swivels his head this way and that, trying to find the source of his name. His gaze glosses right over her, and she doesn't quite have the courage to call out to him again. But then his eyes land on her and focus—and then he breaks out in a huge grin that opens up his whole face, that shows the fine lines his placid look was hiding.

“Oh my god. Is that you?”

She blushes and nods. He saunters over and half sits against the opposite stool. His eyes travel her up and down. She’s only a little self-conscious that he’s managed to glow-up while she's merely discovered the miracle of a tailor and Vaseline.

“You look great,” he says in a soft voice.

She waves away the compliment. “Look at you! Did you go into modeling or something?”

He snorts at her. “I—well … I guess there’s a lot of shit you wouldn’t know; a lot of shit I didn’t want to tell you. Anyway—long, boring story—after I got kicked out of my living situation, I ended up rooming with a bunch of drag queens.” He shrugs, but there’s a half smile on his face. “I was kind of their pet project for a while.”

She mirrors his expression. “That would only happen to you.”

“So how’s—” “Are you—”

Both of them chuckle nervously. Mary makes a “go on” motion.

As she wet her lips, her eyes flick to where his left hand is wrapped around his cup. No ring.

“I believe this is the part where I inquire after the health of a … uh … girlfriend?”

Subtle.

Mary’s half smile becomes whole.

“Oh, ah. Not one of those. Or the other kind. Not for a while, anyway.” He shrugs. “And … you?” he says carefully. “Husband? Kids?”

She feels her face flush, and she looks down.

“No, nothing like that.”

There’s what feels like a tense pause, but when she looks up, Mary is worrying at his bottom lip.

“I, uh. I looked for you, you know.”

Her eyes go wide “Y-you—you did?”

He nods. “But you … moved.”

She mirrors his nodding. “And changed jobs. Twice.”

He taps the tabletop between them. She rubs her palms down her jeans.

“That was kinda a fucked up time for me. I’m afraid I was really shitty to you.”

“Oh no, Mare—”

He holds his hand up. “No, I was. And I’m really fucking sorry about it. If this is it, if I never see you again, you have to know that. That, and you were just about the only good thing in my life for a while. I think I spent years chasing what I gave away with you.”

“Oh, Mare …” she says, too overcome to verbalize anything further.

“Except beating the shit out of Benny. He deserved that, and I’d do it again.”

She laughs, as was his intention.

“Maybe you should have knocked his head harder. He went away for trying to run over his girlfriend, you know?”

Mary’s brow furrows. “No shit?”

“No shit. She survived but ended up in traction.”

His face seems to darken.

“Did I push you into his arms?”

She sighs. “No, Mary. That was my own shitty decision. It’s not like I was at my best either.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” he says almost under his breath.

The two of them stare at each, the conversation seemingly having run its course. Then Mary jumps, and fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket. His eyes scan the screen, then he locks it.

“So … I, uh. Have to go.”

Her blood turns into ice in her veins, and she plasters a smile on her face. “Oh, ok. I understand.”

He slides off the stool, his phone scraping across the table in tandem. He goes to put it in his pocket, then raises it, then half lowers it, then grimaces at her.

“You wouldn’t want to get coffee sometime, would you? I mean, again. Not here. Or here is fine, but as a date.” His faces screw up. “Not like a date date—but like, a get together. To … talk.” His eyebrows form a triangle and he sucks his lips into his mouth, as if that’ll stop him from his verbal diarrhea.

She smiles at him. “I actually would like that very much, Mary.” She holds out her hand, and he hands her his phone.

[searchingwardrobes]

The Convenient Groom: 7/13

The slow burn continues to simmer in this chapter as Emma and Killian settle into a routine, and Anna’s wedding planning forces them to figure out “their song.”

This is first and foremost a gift for @spartanguard​, and this chapter includes several little touches just for her!

As I wrote this, I tried to imagine what kind of music best suits Emma’s and Killian’s personalities. So, don’t take offense at some of their musical opinions - I made digs at music even I like! And fyi, if you go on YouTube to search for wedding songs, this is pretty much what will happen (minus the hot guy to dance with you, of course).

Summary: Killian Jones just happens to be there when Emma Swan gets the phone call that changes everything: her fiance is leaving her at the altar. The thing is, it could also mean the end of her career. Convenient that Killian has nothing better to do that day. Convenient that he’s secretly in love with her. Not that Emma has to know that. Written for @spartanguard​ .

Rating: M

Also on Ao3

Tagging: @snowbellewells​​ @whimsicallyenchantedrose​​ @kmomof4​​ @let-it-raines​​ @teamhook​​ @bethacaciakay​​ @xhookswenchx​​ @tiganasummertree​​ @shireness-says​​ @stahlop​​ @scientificapricot​​ @welllpthisishappening​​ @resident-of-storybrooke​​ @thislassishooked​​ @ilovemesomekillianjones​​ @kday426​​ @ekr032-blog-blog​​ @lfh1226-linda​​ @ultraluckycatnd​​ @nikkiemms​​ @distant-rose​ @optomisticgirl​​ @profdanglaisstuff​​ @carpedzem​​ @ohmakemeahercules​​ @branlovestowrite​​​ @superchocovian​​​ @sherlockianwhovian​​​ @vvbooklady1256​​​ @hollyethecurious​​​ @winterbaby89​​​ @delirious-latenight-laughs​​​ @jennjenn615​​​ @snidgetsafan​

Emma and Killian both had thought that life would slow down once they were back from the honeymoon, and it most ways, it had. The past week they had fallen into a comfortable routine. Killian woke first, tidied up the sofa where he had slept, then went for a run with Smee at his heels. While he was gone, Emma woke, made the coffee, and filled Smee’s bowl with kibble. Emma had her run on the treadmill while Killian showered, then he made breakfast while she showered. This kept Emma from leaving dirty knives poised on the edge of the sink, and gave Killian an opportunity to put her half-finished coffee in a travel mug.

Emma then raced out the door after snatching her breakfast out of Killian’s waiting hands. She was always running late for her 9 am appointment. Killian had yet to figure out why she didn’t schedule her first one later in the day. As for himself, he lingered over his breakfast so he could read a bit before heading into work.

Her book - he was reading her book.

Emma had seen it in various places around the house - on the coffee table, beside Killian’s morning coffee, and on the patio table. She wanted to ask him what he thought, yet at the same time she feared what his opinion would be. Men didn’t normally read her book, after all. Except for that one pompous windbag who only read it so he could skewer it. She couldn’t see Killian eviscerating her like that jerk had, but she also knew he would be honest. That tiny voice of doubt always at the back of her mind kept whispering that he hated every word she’d written. So she remained silent. She did note, however, that his book mark kept moving deeper into its pages.

At work, things went on pretty much as they were before, with one exception. Even though the paparazzi hadn’t followed them to Storybrooke, they still couldn’t let down their guard. The town had to believe they were a couple too, and Emma still had to keep up pretenses on her social media. For that reason, Emma made her way into his workshop at twelve each day asking what he wanted to do for lunch. Some days they walked over to Granny’s to grab a bite together (hand in hand or arm in arm - for appearances sake), while other days Killian was busy on a project and Emma brought lunch back for him. Their “work lunches” had already appeared on Instagram.

They didn’t always leave for home at the same time. It depended on Emma’s schedule and how engrossed Killian was in his current project (he had a bad habit of losing track of time). Yet Killian always insisted on cooking dinner for them both, and no matter what work had been like, they were seated at the kitchen table with a home cooked meal at seven pm every night. After that, they’d plop down on the couch and find something to watch on Netflix. Right now they were doing a rewatch of Parks & Rec.

It had honestly been the most steady, domestic week of Emma’s life. She would never admit it to anyone, especially not to Killian, but she loved it.

Unfortunately, there was one thorn in both their sides, and her name was Anna. They really should have looked closer at the calendar when they had suggested July 4th for the family ceremony.

It was Thursday night, and their enjoyment of the shenanigans in Pawnee, Indiana, was interrupted by a light tapping on the back door. They both groaned as Emma pressed a throw pillow to her face.

“I guess we can’t ignore her?” Killian asked half-jokingly as he paused the show.

Emma whacked him with the pillow. “You’re the one who started the habit of your family coming to your back door. Who does that?”

Or maybe lots of families did that - Emma really wouldn’t know.

Killian sighed again, his head dropping onto the back of the sofa. “Come in,” he called out.

“There’s really only one more thing I need to ask you two,” Anna said without preamble as she rushed through the door. “Sparklers - yes or no? Because I think they’re romantic, but Kristoff says they’re for kids, and Liam said they’re cliche, and Elsa worried we’d burn our fingers, which if you think about it, kind of contradicts what Kristoff said because if kids use them, I’m pretty sure we can handle them without burning ourselves.”

Anna finally ran out of words, and just stood there in front of them expectantly. Emma was rendered speechless, wondering how Anna hadn’t passed out from lack of oxygen, and Killian simply looked confused.

“Sparklers for what?” he finally asked.

“The wedding,” Anna clarified with a roll of her eyes.

“You know, babe,” Emma teased, poking him in the leg, “the reason she’s popped over here every single night?”

Killian rubbed his jaw, and Emma noted the bags under his eyes and frowned. For the first time, she wondered how well he was sleeping out here on the couch.

“Aye, our small, family ceremony.” He looked at Anna pointedly as he emphasized the words.

“It will be,” she insisted, punching Killian in the arm. “It’s just going to be the six of us. Now, what’s your song?”

She had a literal binder opened on her lap. It was so large, her pregnant belly was about to send it sliding to the floor. Her gaze was on them expectantly, a pen poised over the binder.

Emma glanced at Killian. “Ummm . . . we don’t really have one?” She shrugged.

Anna’s shoulders slumped and her lips turned down into a frown as if Emma had just insulted her personally. “How can you not have a song?”

“It’s not a requirement, A,” Killian pointed out.

“But . . . but . . . you had a first dance at your big fancy wedding. I saw pictures of it on the internet. What did you dance to?”

“Don’t use that,” Emma blurted out before she could stop herself. Anna frowned.

“It was just some generic song the DJ picked out,” Killian explained hurriedly. “We didn’t like it, actually.” He turned to Emma with a grin. “Remember how we laughed about that song?”

Emma’s chuckle was genuine. “We sure did.”

“Oh, well that’s disappointing . . .” Anna trailed off, slumping against the sofa. Emma was really expecting the binder to hit the floor now.

“I tell you what,” Killian encouraged her, “Emma and I will pick out a song, ok?”

“You can’t just pick out a song!” Anna argued, and Emma was startled as tears welled in the redhead’s eyes. “It has to be meaningful!” She dashed at her tears in frustration. “I’m sorry it’s these stupid pregnancy hormones.”

Killian moved to sit next to Anna and put his arm around her. “Don’t worry, A. It’ll be meaningful. I promise.”

“By tomorrow?”

“By tomorrow.”

Anna narrowed her eyes. “And it won’t be generic?”

Killian put his hand to his heart. “I promise we will find something meaningful to our relationship.”

“I know I’m being ridiculous,” she chuckled as she wiped the tears from her cheeks.

“No you’re not,” Emma assured her, “it’s really sweet of you to put all this together.”

Anna gave her a watery smile, then started trying to hoist herself to her feet. Killian rushed to help her, then she gathered her binder and headed for the back door.

“Oh, and Anna,” Emma called out after her.

“Yeah?” Anna asked as she turned back around.

“Yes to the sparklers.”

Anna’s answering grin was almost worth the nightly interruptions. Almost.

“Okay, Swan,” Killian exclaimed as soon as the door shut behind Anna. “We’ve got some work to do.”

“The song?” Emma was incredulous. “You’re not serious!”

“As a heart attack. You heard her. She wants something meaningful. Don’t you think it will arouse suspicions if we pick, like . . . ‘The Way You Look Tonight’ or something?”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Why would that be suspicious?”

“Because that’s in practically every rom com ever made.”

Emma snorted through her nose. “I never took you for the rom com type.”

He smirked at her. “I have many facets, love.”

Emma shook her head and couldn’t keep the smile off her face. “Okay, romance expert, how in the world do we pick a song? There are literally millions of love songs.”

“Well,” Killian replied, plopping down on the couch next to her and taking the remote, “I bet there’s a wedding dance playlist on YouTube. We’ll start there.”

He scrolled through the menu on their smart tv as Emma lounged against the back of the couch and studied him. “I’m still trying to imagine you watching . . . say . . . You’ve Got Mail or something.”

“Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are legends, darling,” he countered smoothly, still concentrating on the tv.

“Okay, I guess, but what about . . . While You Were Sleeping?”

“Sandra Bullock and Bill Pullman? What’s not to love?” He winked at her. “Okay, Emma, here we have top 100 wedding dance songs.”

“100!”

He waved his hand at her dismissively. “I’m sure half of them we can rule out rather quickly.”

“You mean the super cheesy ones?”

“Precisely.” He narrowed his eyes as he pulled up the playlist, and Emma couldn’t stop the fleeting thought that he was cute like this - his eyes all crinkled at the corners and his brow furrowed. “Okay, we’ve got Bruno Mars, Justin Timberlake -”

“No, and no.”

“Okay, The Chainsmokers -”

“You can not be serious.”

“Whip/Nae Nae?!?”

“You must have the wrong list,” Emma told him, snatching the remote out of his hands. “That must be stuff to play at a wedding to get people to dance.”

“Ah, you’re right. Try first dance.”

“Wedding . . . “ Emma murmured as she used the arrow keys to choose the letters, “dang it, Killian, you really need to get one of those voice activated tvs.” She glanced over at him to see him grinning at her. “What?”

“You stick your tongue out a bit when you’re concentrating,” he told her, gesturing towards her lips, “it’s cute.”

Emma glowered at him, but felt her cheeks heat all the same. She forced her gaze back on the tv. “Okay, let’s see . . . First Dance - Wedding Suggestions or Most Popular Wedding First Dance Songs. Both have 117 videos.”

Killian shrugged. “Just pull up the first one.”

“Ed Sheeran,” they both read at the same time, then glanced at each other. Simultaneously they both burst out laughing.

“I’m hoping that’s a no?” Killian asked her tentatively.

“Of course it’s a no! Ed Sheeran screams generic.”

“You know, darling, maybe we’ve put the cart before the horse.”

“Okay, old man, what the hell does that mean?”

“Well,” he replied, smoothly overlooking her jab, “what kind of music do you like?”

Emma scrunched up her nose and tapped on her chin. Killian thought once again that she looked adorable, but he didn’t say so. “Ummm . . . I guess more rock than pop. Definitely no country. And don’t laugh but . . . I like punk.”

A slow grin spread across Killian’s face. “Love, I feel we are a match made in heaven.” When Emma’s jaw dropped, he sputtered and scratched behind his ear. “Uh, I meant musically speaking.”

“Riiight,” Emma said, nodding slowly. “Oh, and no power ballads. She rolled her eyes. I don’t think I can listen to an 80s hair band again after Walsh.”

Killian chuckled. “Okay then, let’s just scroll through these with all of that in mind, shall we?”

It wasn’t easy. Most were either pop or country, and the classics like Etta James “At Last” felt too cliched. A few had them chuckling. Who the bloody hell would dance to Dave Matthews Band. Do they have any idea what Crash into Me is about? And Killian played REO Speedwagon’s “Can’t Fight this Feeling” just so he could dramatically sing it to Emma until she collapsed laughing on the couch.

“Wait!” Emma called out finally, clutching his wrist where he held the remote. “That one? Maybe?”

“This one?”

“Yeah - you think?”

He grinned at her as he rose from the couch and offered her his hand. Emma’s brow

furrowed.

“What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m asking you to dance.”

She rolled her eyes. “We did that already, remember?”

Killian arched both brows at her. “But that was Walsh’s cheesy power ballad about sex, remember? Anna wants us to pick a meaningful song, and we can’t do that if we don’t get the full affect.”

Emma battled the smile that teased her lips and lost. “Okay,” she said, putting her hand in his. Her traitorous cheeks blushed as he pulled her up and close to him. He pushed the play button, and Paul McCartney’s voice filled the small house.

Maybe I’m amazed by the way you love me all the time. Maybe I’m afraid of the way I love you.

For some reason, dancing with Killian now felt even more nerve-wracking than it had at the wedding. She stared down at their shuffling feet, inexplicably terrified to look into his eyes. His very pretty, blue, expressive eyes that she swore sometimes could see right through her.

Maybe I’m amazed at the way you pulled me out of time. Hung me on a line. Maybe I’m amazed at the way I really need you.

“Well, the lyrics are definitely meaningful,” Killian chuckled awkwardly. “A won’t be able to argue that point.”

Baby I’m a man and maybe I’m a lonely man who’s in the middle of something that he doesn’t really understand.

Inwardly, Killian was cursing Paul McCartney as the lyrics hit like barbs. He realized he had tightened his grip on Emma’s waist, but she didn’t flinch away. He cleared his throat nervously, then almost choked when Emma’s green eyes met his. She’d had them glued to her feet until this very moment.

Baby I’m a man and baby you’re the only woman who could ever help me. Baby won’t you help me understand?

“Yeah,” she whispered, “I mean, it is Paul McCartney.”

“Uh huh,” Killian winced at how utterly idiotic he sounded. What was this conversation about, again?

Blessedly, the song went into an instrumental break. They continued to shuffle their feet across the living room carpet, but his grip relaxed, and so did Emma’s shoulders.

“So . . . “ she said tentatively, biting on her lower lip, “I saw you were reading my book.”

 “I am.”

Emma tilted her head. “So . . . what do you think?”

Killian pressed his lips together and gazed over her shoulder, collecting his thoughts. “I think you give women very good advice on how to be smart while dating. I also like how you draw a line in the sand, telling women they should never have to change who they are to keep a man. I feel like so much dating advice is really telling people to put on an act, and that’s just garbage. I think your book empowers women to cut off bad relationships.”

Emma nodded, impressed. Those were usually the things in her book that got her hate mail from irate ex-boyfriends.

“Do I sense a but after that praise?”

Killian let out a long sigh, then looked her directly in the eye with such intensity that Emma couldn’t have looked away if she’d wanted to. “But, the chart that’s in there? The one that will show you if someone is compatible with you?” He shook his head, and Emma swore his arm snaked farther around her waist, pulling her just a hair closer. His head bent closer to hers, and his voice dropped an octave. “Love can’t be quantified and measured like that, Swan. It defies logic. It takes everything you thought you knew and obliterates it. When it’s real, you can’t tell where you end and the other person begins. It’s terrifying, exhilarating, and comforting all at once. When you love someone, you don’t need a chart. When you love someone - really love them - you just know.”

Baby, I’m amazed at the way you’re with me all the time. Maybe I’m afraid of the way I leave you.

There was no mistaking it now, Killian had pulled her closer, his hand splayed across her back. Emma pressed her face to his collarbone, relieved that she was no longer looking into his piercing eyes. Killian pressed his lips against her hair.

“I haven’t offended you, have I?”

“No,” Emma managed to choke out, “I appreciate your honest opinion . . . “

“But?” he prompted with a chuckle.

“But your romantic views are exactly what gets people into trouble. That’s why I suggest people analyze the person before feelings get involved.”

Paul McCartney’s voice trailed off, the final strains of the music died, and a YouTube ad for Facebook Messenger started to play. Killian lifted his head and pulled back a step. Emma looked into his eyes once again.

“What if it’s too late?”

“My book says to fill out the chart after the first date, Jones.”

“What if it doesn’t happen the traditional way?” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “What if love sneaks up on you?”

Emma swallowed and took a step back. His arm fell away from her waist, and she shivered.

“I think Paul McCartney will work, don’t you?”

He chuckled. “Aye, Swan.”

Suddenly, Kelly Clarkson’s voice filled the room as the first strands of “A Moment Like This” played, and they both burst out laughing. It broke the tension, thankfully, and Emma plopped back down on the couch and snatched up the remote. She started flipping through the songs in the playlist again, just in case. Killian sat down next to her.

“So,” she said, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye, “you said we’re a match made in heaven music wise. You share my tastes?”

He shrugged. “Mostly. I’m rock more than pop too, though I don’t discount it entirely. I mean, The Beatles are technically pop.”

“True,” Emma conceded, “and then there’s Michael Jackson.”

“Exactly! And, I’d go less for punk and more for alternative.”

“Let me guess. Pearl Jam? Nirvana?”

“Naturally. And Goo Goo Dolls, Smashing Pumpkins, Barenaked Ladies -”

“Wait, wait, wait. Barenaked Ladies are not alternative. They are one hundred percent pop.”

Killian gasped. “Pop, no way! The lyrics are way too tongue in cheek.”

Emma stuck her lip out stubbornly. “They are pop, Jones! Maybe veering a little towards punk -”

“Absolutely not, they are not punk at all!” Emma rolled her eyes as Killian snatched his phone off the coffee table. “I’ll prove it! Hey Google, what genre of music are The Barenaked Ladies?”

“The Barenaked Ladies,” his phone replied in that emotionless robotic voice, “are a Canadian alternative rock band formed in Ontario in -”

“Ha!” Killian crowed in triumph as Emma scowled.

“Where did Google get that info, Wikipedia?”

“Don’t be a sore loser, Swan,” he teased, and then his eyes brightened. “You know, I may have an even better song for us.” He took the remote from Emma and tediously typed something into the search bar.

When Emma saw what it was, she cried out in protestation. “That can not be our song!”

“Why not? It’s the style of music we both like.” He gave her a faux-innocent pout.

“Alternative Girlfriend?”

Killian shrugged then winked at her cheekily. “Well, there’s no song called Alternative Wife.”

Emma smacked him in the chest. He hit play on the YouTube video and then began crooning the song to her.

“You’re in an all-girl band, your futon is second-hand -”

“Yeah, Jones, this screams wedding song.”

“I have a job in a shop - see, that’s me!”

“Sure it is.”

Killian kept singing as he yanked her to her feet and swung her around the room. “You’re my alternative girlfriend. I love you and now you cannot pretend. There’s nothing left that won’t cross over.”

Emma laughed as he spun her out and back in again and she collided with his chest. “I’m pretty sure by alternative girlfriend they mean the alternative rock lifestyle.”

“No way, they mean a girl you date - or marry - because she’s in a pickle. For pretend.”

“Did you just basically say that I’m in a pickle?”

“Aye, Swan, a dill pickle because those are the only kind.”

Emma was laughing so hard now, her sides ached. They ended up staying up until two in the morning sharing music on YouTube. Some that were their favorites, some that they loved to make fun of, and others they were ashamed to admit they liked in their younger days.

And even though they had decided on it hours earlier, they texted Anna a little after two am to tell her that “Maybe I’m Amazed” by Paul McCartney was officially their song. They figured it served her right.

[allthingsfern]

Saw this yesterday (05-08-20) while I was on my way to pick up dinner at one of my favorite restaurants in Sacramento and to buy some groceries. This car with the unicorn on top appeared in front of me just as I started driving. I followed it for about a mile, a couple of times losing it. (Good thing I live in a small town.) It made me very happy. And yes, I was using my phone to record while driving, but there was no other traffic and no one out on the street, as you can see. 

Afterward, when I got home, I was thinking about how cool this was, but then it hit me: This is the ultimate expression of privilege, even while it is also a heartwarming expression of loving creativity and a desire to spread a little physical distance joy. What I mean is that in poorer areas, you will not have someone be able to afford to drive around a big, expensive SUV with a big, expensive inflatable unicorn on top. And no, I am not criticizing the people who did it; I am grateful to them, because they brought a smile to my face and they gave me a beautiful surprise jolt of joy. Still, that does not negate that this is a perfect example of how COVID19 is revealing the great economic division in our system. So often life can be contradictory, so this COVID19 period we are living through is no different. 

Anyway, FYI about the music and ringtone. The song is “Agua Pa’a Ti,” sung by our beloved Celia (Cruz) with La Sonora Matancera, coincidentally, the band she left Cuba with in 1960. BTW, she is “our beloved Celia” to those of us in exile, outside Cuba. Even though her fame took hold in Cuba and parts of Latin America starting in the late 40s, the post-1959 Cuban government erased her and the famed orchestra from history in a very 1984 way as soon as they left the island. When she died in 2003, many around the world mourned her, but in Cuba, nada. To the government in Cuba, one of our great national treasures never existed, and all because of politics. However, she is memorialized by the Smithsonian Institute here and here. In 2006, the Smithsonian also had a Celia Cruz exhibition, which later travelled to several US museums. I was able to see it in Los Angeles’s California African-American Museum. And yes, while I was there I cried several times. 

The song you hear in the background is a prayer to the Afro-Cuban orisha Yemayá. The “one ringy dingy” (Lily Tomlin as Ernestine the operator, a popular Laugh-In from the late 60s; you can see a clip here) is my phone call ringtone. I got a call from a friend and because the music was coming from my phone via bluetooth, it stopped playing. The phone vibrates when I get a call, which is why the video is shaky.

Anyway, here is a video clip Celia and the Sonora Matancera performing “Agua Pa’a Ti.” I believe the clips in the video of Celia and the orchestra are either from Cuban TV, right before they left the island, or from one of their early TV appearances in exile. Sadly, BTW, the post-1959 Cuban government never allowed Celia to return to her native land. 

She did return to Cuba in 1990, to perform at Guantanamo. The clip below is the second part of a segment about her visit to Guantanamo, made after her death. One of the songs is “Por Si Acaso No Regreso,” which means In Case I Don’t Return. Makes me cry every time I listen to it. 

Our beloved Celia appeared in a couple of films, including The Mambo Kings. Below is montage of her scenes in the movie, which includes one of her singing a salsa song in English and one of her singing her classic, “Guantanamera.” It ends with her singing a duet with Albita: “Por Si Acaso No Regreso.”

Finally, two videos of her performing in Cuba. I know the first one was in Cuba for sure, because the “JUPIÑA” signs are for a Cuban soft drink called Jupña, which was a pineapple soft drink that kinda tastes like cream soda, and it was not produced in the US until the mid 60s or a little later.

Funny how writing about an inflated unicorn on top of an SUV turned into a nostalgic recollection.

Oh well.

Big physical distance hug.

@itstherealus

[1-1snailxd-art]

Sanders Sides Oneshot - Babysitting

This is how you beat writers block - you draw and then find your will to write afterwards.   

Characters/relationships: Logan / Virgil (analogical), Patton / Roman (Royality), Kid Thomas

Warnings: none

Words: 1511

Summary: This came about from a post by @fanartfunart and seeing as I’m trying to learn how to draw people better, I decided to challenge myself with a drawing....that drawing then turned into a little fic. FYI, I know there is a lot wrong with Logan’s proportions in the picture (I can see it), but Thomas is cute so whatever.  

_____________________________________

"Don't be such a baby, Logan." Virgil huffed, following his partner into the kitchen. "It's a kid, not a freakin' nuclear bomb."

"I know that, but..." Logan kept his back to Virgil as he absentmindedly took ingredients for dinner out of the fridge and cupboards. "I don't know anything about babysitting a child."

Watching the cook’s shoulders slump at the admission, Virgil softened his tone and moved to lean on the counter next to Logan.

"What's to know, Lo? You give him some food, easy for you, and turn on the TV. Job done." Virgil sighed when Logan didn't look away from the bowl in front of him; hands floured as he prepared a pasta dough. "Look, I only need to be in the studio for an hour at most; then I'll come straight home. You can entertain 'til I get back, right?"

"Are you sure you can't stay?"

 The tone of Virgil's phone gave him his answer as the other man quickly excused himself to take the call. It wasn't that Logan didn't like children; he just didn't think he was good for children. Honestly, he questioned daily what Virgil saw in him; a pensive, workaholic wasn't that romantic and didn't scream partner material. Patton on the other hand was destined to be a parent; they'd wanted to be one since they were kids.

The pasta dough came into shape as Logan recalled the day Patton video called them to announce they had been approved for adoption now Roman had consistent work. He'd shared in their excitement but never fully understood it. Admittedly, Logan was still hurt that Patton had moved so far away to support Roman's career and their relationship took a hit from the distance.  

Setting the finished dough aside to rest, Logan washed his hands and turned to find the dejected Virgil walking back in.

 "Virgil? What's wrong?"

"I've gotta go, Lo. Shit's hit the fan with the computers at the studio and Nate's pissed."

"How bad is it?" Logan moved closer, knowing there would be no way out of this now and accepting that he would have to face Patton alone.

"Backups failing bad. I should have gone in earlier when it was just a glitch. It was stupid of me to ignore it and-fuck I'm gonna pay for it n-"

Logan tilted Virgil's chin back and placed a soft kiss on his lips to silence the worrier.

"I apologise for my earlier attitude and clouded judgements. I will be fine this evening. You should go." Taking Virgil's hand, Logan walked him towards the door. "I will be fine until you or Patton return."

"Yeah, you will." he replied with a half-smile, before giving Logan a final kiss goodbye and heading out the door.

  The silence of the apartment was crushing as Logan threw himself onto the couch; sliding his glasses up off his face as he massaged his brow. It was all too much at once. First, he was just worried about seeing Patton and Roman again after years of dwindling contact; then they asked the couple to babysit while they went to the award ceremony that brought them to town; and now Logan would have to face it all alone. A knock at the door pulled Logan from his thoughts and he was quick to sit up and correct himself before answering it.

 "Hey Specs" Roman smiled from the entry; the pink backpack on his shoulder a harsh contrast to the black suit he wore. "It's great to see you again!"

"It's good to see you too, Roman. You are looking well considering the travel."

"Oh please," With a hand gesture Roman stepped into the apartment and put the apparently heavy bag down. "It would take more than a few hours on a plane to ruin this face."

"Indeed," Logan chuckled, turning just in time to see a pink blur heading towards him.

 "Uncle Logan!" Came a cheery voice as a body slammed into Logan and constricted his middle.

"Um...Thomas, I presume."

Logan looked up to see Patton beaming as they walked up the path in a simple blue gown. They looked so happy and lively that Logan forgot all his past grievances; it seemed Patton was happy and that was all that mattered.

"That's my Thomas," Patton giggled.

"It's good to see you again, Patton." Logan pulled a face as he looked down at the figure still holding his arms by his sides. "Your son is very... Huggie."

Roman and Patton both laughed, and Roman snapped a quick picture of the awkward man pinned by his son.

"Oh, I know. I trained him well, don't you think?"

"Indeed, Patton, but...um," Thomas giggled as Logan tried to lift his arms out of the vice grip around him. "How do I un-train him? I do need to work at some point this evening."

"That will do, Thomas; give Uncle Lo some breathing room."

At Roman's word, Thomas let go and moved to his father's side. Logan's moment of reprieve was short lived as Patton replaced their son, pulling their old friend close and whispering in his ear.

"I really missed you, Logan."

"I..." For a moment, he was lost for words before mimicking the tight grip around his friend. "I missed you too."

  The group remained in the entry as Patton began rattling off things Thomas could and couldn't do. Though he listened intently, Logan's eyes kept shifting to the young boy in the pink jacket that lent against Roman; holding onto his father’s arms around his neck and smiling up at Logan.

".... And if you need anything, just call me and I'll come right back and-"

"Calm down, Pat." Roman interjected, "We're just going for a few hours. I'm sure Lo and Thomas will be fine."

"Right. You're right."

"I always am." "That's not true, Dad." Thomas turned to look up at his father in confusion. "We were late to the airport because you got the times wrong, and you brought the wrong chocolate milk last week, and you-"

"Alright, that's enough." Roman was quick to scoop the boy up and headed inside. "Let's get you set up, hey."

A smile crept across Logan's face as he watched them go.

"Is that a genuine smile I see, Logan?" It comforted Patton to see him looking so content, despite his obvious fear of being responsible for Thomas.

"I'm proud of you, Patton." Their eyes widened as Logan turned; his own shining in the sun light. "You made the family you always wanted." "Almost," they laughed. "It's just missing one thing." "Hm?" Brows furrowing in confusion, Logan wracked his brain for what Patton was talking about. "What could you possibly be missing?"

"Just an uncle to teach Thomas about computers and another to show him how to cook. Any idea on where I could find them?"

"I think I do, but they live pretty far away." "That's okay, we're moving anyway." "What?" Logan was genuinely shocked by the news, mouth left ajar as Roman came up from behind and place a hand on his shoulder.

"You ready to be a full-time uncle, Logan?"

 The question left Logan reeling. Three years ago, Patton left their teaching position to follow Roman's quest for recognition in music and theatre; leaving Logan and Virgil behind in the process. One year ago, they adopted Thomas and their contact became almost non-existent; so to be told they were returning to include him and Virgil in their family...was amazing.

 "I suppose I'll have to be."

This time, Logan initiated a group hug; wrapping an arm around each of his friends and briefly forgetting that they had somewhere to be and he had a job to do.

"Jeez Specs, Thomas rubbed off on you quickly." Roman joked; causing Logan to quickly step back and adjust his tie.  

"Ah, yes, sorry." Logan stumbled over his words, causing his friends to laugh at his sudden display of affection. "I got a little carried away." "It's okay, Lo." Patton assured, waving at the little figure that was poking his head over the couch inside. "But we should get going or we'll never leave."

"Right. Yes. Of Course."

 Logan watched as Patton blew a kiss to Thomas before heading down the front path with Roman. Once the car had pulled away, he shut the door and turned to the smiling figure kneeling on the couch, waiting patiently. Brown eyes looked expectantly at him and he thought about Patton's wish for uncles for their son.

 "So… Thomas. Have you ever made pasta before?" The boy shook his head and slipped off the couch as Logan held his hand out. "Perhaps it's time uncle Logan taught you then."

 *************************

 When Virgil came home, he was shocked to find the apartment lit only by Steven Universe playing on the TV. Tiptoeing around the couch he was greeted to the scene of Logan fast asleep with Thomas laying on his chest. It didn't look comfortable at all, but Virgil had to admit it was an adorable thing to come home to.

________________________________________

Tags: @thequeensphinx

What else have I done:

The Shield to your Sword (WIP - A fantasy/magic au - Prinxiety (Royal Roman and orphan Virgil - they’ll admit to their love eventually), Virgil angst, non binary healer Logan, *spoiler* Patton, cursed Deceit and ridiculous Remus)

Libraries are for Meetings (ongoing WIP - Human/University au with Royality and developing Analogical. Slow burn and heavily focused on a grieving group of friends that Virgil slowly becomes a part of to better himself.)

And more....

Writing Master Post

Check out my other blog for random fandom reblogs and stuff @snail-giggles

[mistressofshipping]

So I've been thinking about starting to write some fanfiction -I haven't done it since I was a teenager- and today I started one. It's not great, and it needs a lot of work, but I thought I might share it with the world.

FYI English is not my first language, so there are probably some grammar mistakes here and there. Any suggestions or comments are welcome!

This is a modern AU where Zelda Spellman is a renowned archeologist, and is in town for a conference.

Ancient manuscripts and new interpretations

Her nervousness was starting to settle in. She was perfectly prepared for the conference. She had been studying these fragments for ages, so she knew her way around them, she’s done the translations, and all the tests to date the manuscripts. Nothing was left to luck, and yet, her impostor syndrome was making a grand entrance. She needed to blow some steam, or she would find herself caught in her on mind, seeing nothing but her insecurities.

Zelda Spellman was a renewed archeologist, and she led the team of experts who discovered same unique manuscripts that were dedicated to the goddess Hecate. They were one of a kind, specially because they had details about the rituals that were done in her name that were not present in any other. Zelda knew, because she’s been obsessed about Hecate since she was little.

The Spellman house had a huge library, and young Zelda loved spending time there dreaming about having adventures, travelling the world, and discovering secrets buried for thousands of years. That is probably why she became an archeologist. She was particularly interested in Ancient Greece. The way the saw the world, and how they helped shape the world we live today always fascinated her. The more she learned, the more curious she became. And so, her passion, intelligence, dedication, thoroughness and undeniable ambition put her on top of her field.

Given that she still had tonight and a full day tomorrow to go through everything once more, he decided to go for a drink. She really needed one, and luckily the hotel had a nice bar on the lower level. She ordered a whiskey and sat in there enjoying the chance to let loose and not think about the research and how important the conference was.

What she didn’t notice was the striking woman watching her, not until she finished her drink and the bartender brought her another without her ordering. She looked over her shoulder and meet the most beautiful eyes she’s ever seen, the woman had luscious dark locks, bright red lips, and a red dress that fit her like a glove. Zelda looked at her and raised her eyebrows playfully, the woman smirked and went to sit next to her.

Thank you for the drink – she said softly, while leaning closer to the woman

My pleasure – replied the burnet, doing the same thing.

May I ask the name of my benefactor? – her voice becoming a little bit deeper.

Lilith¬ – she said while extending her hand to Zelda and bating her lashes – And yours?

Zelda – she said getting e little bit closer to Lilith and taking her hand in a delicate handshake. They hold the handshake for a little bit too long, and when they broke it, they missed the contact.

This was going to be a interesting evening.

[fieryfafarfanfics]

Ecstatic Requiem 2

 Cold wind welcomes her presence through the calming, serene caress on her skin.  Her head holds up high, chin tilts upwards before a single breath of air is inhale slowly. Hands carefully pressed against the Charizard’s back, Kotone adjusts her position and exhales through her mouth. “What a great day, Charlie!” Her smile beams like a thousand suns. Hazel eyes peek at the purring Kanto fire starter. Slim fingers give little scratches on the places she knows the Pokémon loves, and this only widens her smile once she hears a gentle roar.  Beep! Beep!  Her attention is then robbed by the sound of her Pokégear. One hand digs into the pocket of her black pants. Upon taking the device out, Kotone feels the Butterfrees in her stomach to see the name on the screen. With a simple swipe of her thumb, she opened the message.  Skitty <3: honey, r u done w the boring meetings and stuff?  Her hearts skips faster at two things. One: the sole fact that he typed ‘honey’, and two: him.

 Quickly fingers start to reply his text.  Me: darling! yes I hv ♡(ŐωŐ人) are u done wiping out the other trainers?  A few seconds pass by. Beep! Beep!  Skitty <3: uuuuugh nope. i still hv 7 more left  Warm eyes widen in shock.  Me: eh??? theres still more???  Her body leans a bit forward for stability. As for Charlie, upon realizing that Kotone is no longer pressing her palms against her back, she slows down.  Skitty <3: yes theres more. n im more annoyd too. i told them im gonna hv a small break rn bt i swear if this keeps going ill just fight the pokemon myself  A snort slips out.  Me: id love to see that (♡´౪`♡) at least you beat them all right?  Skitty <3: uuuuuugh nope  She can vividly hear his adorably annoyed groan. Before she can reply, another text beeps in.  Skitty <3: 3 trainers surprisingly (and annoyingly) beat me. lucky they arent cocky assholes like ur cousin.  Me: im gonna screenshot this to white fyi  Skitty <3: ANYWAYS,  Laughter bubbles in the chill, orange sky.  Skitty <3: those trainers wanna battle u next bt i told them to battle u tmrrw.  Me: eh really? i can go there and battle them later tonight tho  Skitty <3: no  A single eyebrow raises in confusion.  Me: why???? (・∧‐)ゞ  Skitty <3: coz ur mine tonite  If it weren’t for Charlie’s fast reflexes, Kotone probably would have slide down off her back.  Flush of red kisses her tanned cheeks. The same cheeks then puff slowly. The long end of her ponytail tickles the side of her neck, and Kotone is at lost on whether the shivers in her body is due to the hair or text.  Quickly she texts back.  Me: someones possessive (♡´艸`)  Skitty <3: u hv no idea hw possessive i can be when it comes to you  God, Kotone wants to scream right now.  Face now filled with heated swirls, she peeks at the screen.  Me: cant wait to find out tonight then (⺣◡⺣)♡*  Skitty <3: i hope ur ready then my love  Dead! I’m dead! Screams echo in her mind as Kotone bends forward against the Charizard’s back. He’ll be the death of me! Giddy giggles burst from pretty pink lips. Her legs start to wiggle forward and back, obviously catching the attention of her confused Kanto starter.  Charlie’s wings continue to flap, but her attention has now been stolen by her excited trainer. A smile of her own curls the edges of her mouth. She knows damn well the only person who could make her trainer act and feel such a way was none other than the redhead. Puffs of light smoke slips out of her nostrils, Charlie emits what can be depicted as a chuckle and flies forward.  After letting it out of her system, Kotone carefully sits up straight and releases a long line of air. After texting each other their ‘I love you’s, she tucks the communication device back into her pocket. Her smile now ever present, both hands are brought up to tap each warm cheek.  God, she feels so lucky to have him.  Slowly her attention comes back to the skies. A nice, orange hue slowly, warmly envelopes the sky. There are less flying-types around as Charlie soars, so peace and quiet truly wraps the trainer’s senses.  Hazel eyes cast down, and a soundly gasp escapes pink lips at the sight of a place she hadn’t been to in a while.  “Charlie,” she called the Charizard. Magnificent blues meet warm hazels. “Can you bring us down to Ilex Forest?” ---  The air always feels fresh whenever she arrives at the place.  Arms stretch comfortable to the sides. The air is a bit chillier once she reaches the ground, and Kotone honestly loves the feel of it against her arms and neck. Feeling fatigue being washed away from fresh air alone, she plops her hands to the sides. Eyes turn to her Charizard, right hand now holding the starter’s ball as a silent question if she wants to get back in.  With a single nod from Charlie, Kotone flashes a smile and returns her.  Ball shrunk and clipped onto the belt of her pants, Kotone then looks around the forest. It has been years since she last stepped foot, but awe and wonderment always splash her face to witness the breath-taking scene. It seems that the forest hasn’t changed a bit, hence it brings back a small twinge of nostalgia in her heart.    Her mind wanders as her feet walks around the forest. Sounds of slumbering Hoothoots catch her ears. Sights of Caterpies and Weedles frolicking about opens a box of reminiscences in her heart. Ah how she misses being a teenager again. When she first stepped into the peaceful forest, she was 16 at that time. Soft giggles bubble out when she remembers her famous pigtails and puffy hat.  Skitty always hates that puffy hat. Giggles evolve into innocent laughter.  She remembers that Azalea Town was the place she had met Silver for the third time. While their early encounters weren’t exactly pleasant in the least, Kotone always treasures each and every memory into her heart. Each memory plays like a movie, and she truly means that literally when she learned Mewtwo has the ability to form one’s memories to a clear, vivid, realistic image.  She finds that useful for her future child when they would ask questions such as how she and Silver met.  Ah, her face is blushing again.  “Geez…” Her heart beats ever so gleefully every time she thinks of him.  Again she gives her cheeks little taps. At the same time, her feet has stopped, and it takes Kotone a second to realize that she is standing before the Ilex Forest Shrine. “Oh!” Surprise and amusement trickle pass her tongue. Taking a few steps forward, Kotone gazes at the spectacular shrine.  Its design was simplistic as ever, yet bears so many memories and significances for the people of Azalea Town. The wooden pillars remain strong, though now covered in small vines on some ends. A few berries and fruits can be seen; Kotone assumes they were offerings from the people and Pokémon alike for the shrine’s owner.  Celebi.  The name rings in her head. Wind caresses her arms gently, tracing tickles on the finest hairs on her skin. Every time her thoughts wander to the legendary, Kotone can never forget the story Silver had told her.  How he had technically died after saving her. How he was plunged into a cold abyss. How his soul withered, his mind blank from the acceptance of his timely death.  She couldn’t imagine the indescribable horror he had gone through when he told her. Just the mere thought of it once brings tears to her eyes.  Deep breaths inhaled deep into her lungs. He is fine now, she assures herself. Kotone keeps the reminder firm and planted. Celebi had saved him from his death. Celebi actually rewrote the past in order to keep him breathing again. The Time Travel Pokémon even let Silver meet his mother one last time, giving the dead a proper goodbye before he comes back to the living.  Hazel eyes gleam at the stories he told her. Silver… The pain he went through was unimaginable. The life he grew up in was anything but human. To know such a child went through hell on earth at such a young age…her skin prickles at the fearful thought.  No human can survive being sane as long as Silver has.  Sullen gaze falls on the breath-taking shrine. “Silver…” His name lulls through her lips like a heavy prayer. How she wishes she can go back in time. How she wishes she can help him even before they were properly met. All the words she wants to say for him. All the reassurance she would give to a child who had lost everything.  Hands rub up and down her arms.  Suddenly, sorrow pops into caution when she hears rustling from behind. Quickly she reaches for Damien’s Pokéball; one heel had turned and sight sharpened to one of wary. “Who’s there?” The noise sounds too heavy for a Pokémon in the area. Kotone would assume it came from a human, probably a trainer going on an adventure just like her before. But the sky above is shrouded in darkness, and it isn’t so wrong to be cautious of any danger that lurks in the night.  Especially given from a woman who had gone through hell and once became danger herself.  “Kotone?”  Once the voice lulls into her ears, Kotone immediately feels her muscle loosen.  “Hibiki!” Caution turns to joy. Fingers casually unwrapped around the Typhlosion’s Pokéball.  Finally able to walk out of the thick bushes, Hibiki brushes off the dead leaves off his arms and head. “Kotone!” Joy rings just as true as hers. Without hesitance, he briskly walks towards her for an embrace. Arms open wide, the young man hugs her by the shoulders and gives her a little squeeze. “Oh my Arceus, it is you!”  “Ya!” Laughter bubbles out of pretty pink lips. She returns his embrace with one of her own. “Wow, what’re you doing here?” Pulling away to look at him, Kotone gives his arms a little shake.  “Oof,” he winces slightly, “watch your strength there.” Laughter pops out with a mixture of surprise. Being the Johto Champion really does have its perks. “Anyways, I was just doing some field study.” Once and twice he rolls his arms.  Surprise widens a pair of hazels. “Field study? At 8 at night?”  He knew she would be shocked by his activities. “Yeah.” Once again he laughs. Grey eyes gleam as bright as his innocent smile. “I usually do my routine check-ups at night, you know. There are some nocturnal Pokémon out and about when I least expect it, so I figured it would be nice to not miss any opportunity there is.” Hands plop comfortably by his sides. “Besides, doing field studies at night really gives me a peace of mind since there aren’t any trainers or so many rowdy Pokémon around.”  He has a point, as he always does when it comes to Pokémon research. “I see you’re really excelling in the field.” A proud smile shines upon her lips. “And hey, I also see that the field gave you a great workout too.” Lightly she punches his left arm. Cheeks shroud in pink at the compliment. “Well, I still have a long way to go, though.” One hand scratches the back of his head. “You’re not so bad yourself. I see constant training and battling really put some muscles in you.” His comment is replied with a sweet laugh. As sheepish as he is to receive such compliments from his childhood friend, Hibiki wouldn’t lie that he is in awe of her hidden strength.  “Well…” Feeling slight conscious of the compliment of her body, Kotone taps her fingers gingerly. “I gotta stay fit if I want to catch up to younger trainers and defend my title.”  “I can see that.” A nod is given. It takes him a few minutes, but realization then hits when he can’t find the presence of another champion. “By the way, Silver isn’t with you?”  “Oh,” she chirped, “nah, he’s busy battling trainers at the Indigo League.”  “At this hour?” Now it is his turn to have shock plastered on his face. “It’s really late. Shouldn’t the League have like…closing times or something?”  A sigh leaves her lips. “It does, but it’s until 10. So for now, as long as there are trainers itching to battle after collecting all the gym badges of Kanto and—or—Johto, the Elite Four and us Champions have to get ready.” Honestly, explaining the concept alone is tiring. But much to no one’s surprise, she still manages to defend her title for 8 years. True, Silver has beaten her more times that she kept count, but she also has taken back her title from him many times than one can keep tally. In the end, Lance, the Elite Four, and the Indigo League management agreed to have two separate champions reigning on each region.  It’s quite adorable when she thinks about it; the Champion of Kanto and Champion of Johto are the loving, fearsome husband and wife couple.    “So anyways,” Another sigh slides off her mouth, “I’m just here walking around in Ilex Forest, getting some fresh air.” Hazel eyes look at the shrine behind her. “And of course, looking at the shrine behind me.”  Hibiki doesn’t say much, instead nods in understanding. “I see…” Lower lips juts in thought, he gives his attention to the holy place before him. “Well, if you don’t mind, I’d love to keep you company. It’s been a while since we’ve hanged out.” A few steps are taken until he stands next to her. His smile widens at her acceptance.  “Thanks, Hibiki.” She doesn’t mind the company. In truth, she misses her best friend as well.  Suddenly, before any of them could actual start a conversation, a bright light beams a few steps away from them. The shock and light briefly dazzle them both. One has his arms shielded in front of squinted eyes. One once again grips her starter’s Pokéball while shielding her eyes with one hand.   “W-What’s going on?!” Fear of the unknown pierces his tone. None answers his question, though the light unfortunately shines brighter and brighter.  “I don’t know.” Through gritted teeth she replies. A Pokéball has been unclipped from her belt, but the blinding ray causes her to flinch in her place.  Luckily, no heat nor chill harms them both. But with confusion and fear overpowering them, Kotone lightly curses under her breath as she tries to get her body to move.  “…bi—”  Irises shrink in the middle of hazels when she hears a faint sound.  “…C…e…bii—”  That sound! She knows that sound! The owner of the holy shrine. The guardian of the forest. The saviour of Silver’s life. While Kotone herself has never met the Time Travel Pokémon personally, she knows it in her heart that this strange light was Celebi’s doing.  “Cele—bi—” The name slurs out in broken hisses. Trying to find and reason with the tiny legendary, Kotone tries to scoot one foot forward. The light, to her dismay, only gets brighter and brighter, almost rivalling the sun. Hoping to Arceus that her next action won’t blind her, Kotone sucks in a deep breath and drops her hands.  Hazel eyes—though in pain of the menacing gleam—manage to spot the green shape of the creature who is causing glimmering commotion. “Please sto—!”  Before any words could be breathed out, the light—along with the two baffled humans—disappear in a blink.

[travelita]

Interview: Travelita Frankie Owens

Travelita: 1. Okay, Frankie, what was the specific incident that got you to this interview?

You invited me to participate.

Travelita: 2. What does traveling mean to you?

Traveling is a means of respite and enjoyment away from the responsibilities of day to day life. To experience new things, new adventures, and different people in different surroundings.

Travelita: 3. Why is that important?

I feel that traveling is important to live a more interesting and well rounded life. You never know what's out there until you GO!

Travelita: 4. Now that I know what it is, now that I know why it's important and relevant, how are you implementing this on your travels? I mean like, is there a process, that you follow when traveling?

Well, I would like to say that I've traveled a lot, but such is unfortunately not the case. I mostly travel in the US to either local areas near home in California, or to the East Coast where I grew up and where my family (sister, cousins, etc.) still live. However, that said, I do like to explore and experience something/someplace new each time I have the opportunity to go back East, as there's so much that's changed over the last 30 years since I moved to the West Coast.

Travelita: 5. What if people took advantage of your tips and steps you are providing? What will happen, how will their travels change?

Since my travel has been fairly limited to vacation time from full time job, I could only say that I do wish I could travel more often. So advice to anyone is to TRAVEL WHENEVER YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY -- IT'S A HUGE, BEAUTIFUL WORLD AWAITING YOU!

Travelita: 6. Now we would like to get just some general information about you and your travels:

- When did you start traveling?

Local travel growing up in Massachusetts (USA), I traveled every summer to Cape Cod -- only an hour and a half drive away, but like another world. It's by the beach, and there's no place better for me to feel at home and be "in my element" -- I always feel safe and relaxed there..... like going home. But every day brought new beauty with every stay.

In High School I took my first plane trip to Paris, France along with my school. My sister, brother, their best friends, as well as one of my best friends also were on the 10 day trip. That was in 1973 and it was AMAZING!! That trip allowed me to realize the vast world of beautiful cultures with such similarities and differences, yet know we are all people wanting to enjoy life.

Travelita: - Do you remember how you felt when you traveled alone for the first time?

Well traveling cross country (across the United States from West to East Coast and return) is vastly different than traveling to another country. I remember traveling to Germany and Salzburg, Austria with a friend, and neither of us spoke language other than English, yet we were able to communicate and feel safe among the locals. I wasn't fearful at all. It was just a beautiful adventure.

Travelita: - How did you, or do you deal with fears?

I'm not necessarily fearful when I travel. I guess my biggest fear is being late for a flight! I like to plan ahead as much as possible to eliminate those kinds of fears. And I act cautiously and carry myself with confidence so anyone who MAY be lurking to do harm is more intimidate by me first!

Travelita: - Is there a place where you have been and you would definitely not recommend it for women on their own and why?

I would definitely not travel to Mexico alone. Nor the Dominican Republic. I've just heard way too many stories of people being kidnapped or disappearing or being robbed and thrown in jail when they are innocent. My former roommate is a beautiful Mexican girl, and the police actually stopped her on the road while driving and stole her two dogs because the simply liked them. There's corruption in government there, and that's a fear for me. And I traveled to Mexico with a group of friends. On the way home, we were stopped at the border, and my closest friend with us loved to see me drink because he thought I was really funny when I drink (fyi -- I don't drink alcohol at all anymore). Anyhow, the border patrol wouldn't let us cross back into the United States until I was able to verbalize "I am a United States citizen." That was very difficult for me after having too many drinks and slurring my words. Finally after much time, they let us drive through. But that was scary. They could have detained me in Tijuana for the night!!

I'd just recommend doing your research before traveling alone to anyplace so you can feel safe and enjoy the culture.

Travelita: - Do you still have this excitement, when you go on a trip?

Yes, I love it!  I'm a planner, so I like to know and have secured my place when I get there. I'm one who feels more comfortable knowing the basic schedule of events before I go. Though I always like to take an adventure once I'm there!

Travelita: - what are your top 5 destinations and why?

Oh goodness, this is a tough question. The world is SO vast that I'm sure there's MANY destinations I'd love to visit, nationally and internationally  that I don't even know about!

Because I'm half Italian, I'd have to say Italy (ALL over the small towns and local places). My maternal grandparents are from Avellino, a small province of Campania region near Naples. I'd love to find extended family there and truly engross myself in my Italian heritage. And of course must experience the Italian cuisine including 'real' pizza and cannoli!

I didn't know my dad's parents, though they were from Canada and Wales -- so I'd love to visit the countryside there as well. Such greenery and beauty I've seen in photos!

For places I've already visited, France, Austria, and Germany were phenomenally rich with history and beauty. I'd love to experience that again! Since I always feel at home on the beach, that's definitely in my top 5 destinations no matter where I go.

Travelita: - The funniest story that happened to you when traveling?

Hmmmm... Let me think. Oh I can share this one!  It was Christmas in Salzburg, Austria. Somehow our reservations for dinner were messed up and we seriously couldn't find anyplace to have a meal -- everyplace was booked or closed. So we ended up having some strange grilled cheese sandwiches where the cheese wasn't even melted. It was sort of sad at the time, but we laughed about it as we were so hungry and ate it anyway.

Travelita: 7. What do you want people to do?

Be free to travel, though do your homework and if you are alone, make sure you take some precautions. I think it's a must to be prepared, and ensure you have an emergency contact "just in case" who knows your itinerary and any details should you need any assistance when you're away.

Travelita: Thank you for the interview!

[kazlifeadventures]

Trinidad & Tobago - Carribean dreams...

I am so ‘vex’ that I won't be ‘liming’ in this beautiful place any more. I have been one lucky person to have been able to come here and hang with a local for almost a week. Jasmine has shown me her Trinidad and for that I am truly grateful. I have eaten so many local foods and they have all been fantastic. I have impressed the locals no end with my love of pepper sauce. The food here is tasty, spicy, and pretty much specific to this island. ‘Nah boy’, I am so very much enamoured with this country! One of my friends asked me if I had posted photos of the food. Truth be told, I don’t have a lot of pics, its not the most photogenic, and I seriously just wanted to eat it! I have partaken in the local speciality of doubles, with ‘plenty’ I might add - for those unaware that is with extra hot sauce and/or the mango bone that is infused with more pepper. Doubles is made with 2 baras filled with a curry channa (chick peas), it originally started as a breakfast food, progressing to be an anytime of the day food. It’s nutritious, tasty, and sold at street side vendors everywhere. Apparently even pizza and KFC taste better over here. This I can now say I agree with. Not sure if the food tastes better, or if its adding the ketchup, mustard, and pepper sauce that assists with the taste upgrade.....

Jas took me to the home of street food a little town called St James, and made sure I got to have saheena, (seriously amazing spicy little deep fried spinachy deliciousness ) as well as alloo pie...amongst other things. The locals only really eat out at restaurants on special occasions so that meant Jas cooked for me a lot of the time, and wow, just wow. I loved the chicken curry (brown), smoked herring, baigan choka, salt fish, home made roti, the fabulous goat curry.... I could rave on, but google Trinidadian food and you’ll understand. Jas lives out in the ‘country’ to the South of Port of Spain, the capital. We spent one evening heading around to some of the local rum bars. Rum bars are everywhere here. Beer is cold and cheap (and made here - love the Stag and the Carib!). I got to meet a few of the locals. Over here they will buy you a drink even for something as simple as the fact that they had to order over you slightly. At the bar. They loved to meet the ‘white girl from Austalia’, as out here they dont see a lot like me... The good thing is none of it was them just trying it on with the foreigner. These are genuinely lovely, polite, caring people. I had a dance off with some girls from Venezuela, and ended up drinking way more drinks then I paid for, eating (they sell bar snacks and’cutters’ only at the rum shops) some tasty wontons at one place, and some really tasty fried chicken at another. We then got some free food from another lovely local who bought us a drink, and also then brought us across some Souse and Corn soup from his food stall (across the road from the rum shop). Anyway I can now say I have tried Souse, not sure I’d eat it again, it was flavourful, but pigs trotters in broth with onion and cucumber is not on my list of things to eat again! I think I have decided that I need to come back to Aus and start my own Trini food store, I think it’d be a huge hit. Love the local beers. Love the rum here. Jas made sure I tasted the Puncheon rum - 75 % and you never get a hangover or upset stomach... I wanted to bring some home, but alas no room in the suitcase! One of the biggest things, I was not aware that this is the home where Angostura bitters is bottled. It was first created in the town called Angostura in Venezuela by a German surgeon stationed in Venezuela, originally produced there between 1824 - 1830. In 1875, the plant was moved to Trinidad and that’s where it’s secret recipe is still produced today.

One of the main religions here is Hindu, they have a giant (85 feet - 26m) statue of Lord Hanuman Murti located in the grounds of Dattatreya Yoga. The statue is the second tallest in the world, and the tallest one in the western hemisphere. When we pulled up onsite there was one man looking after the bookstore who allowed us to enter the grounds and take photos. We weren't allowed to enter the temple/yoga centre as we weren't appropriately dressed. The gentleman then showed us the book explaining how the statue had been built and answered all my gazillion questions. It was like having our own private tour! Jas then took me down the road a little further to show me the temple in the sea. This temple was originally constructed by hand 1947 -52 by Sewdass Sadhu an immigrant from India. It has since been added to, and tidied up, but it's an amazing place, and a site of pilgrimage for Hindus. It's also one of the designated locations for Hindus to perform the funeral pyre. Hindu religion requires that the dead are burned near water and a holy place.

Brian Lara is still HUGE here. He is a home town Trini boy so I completely understand. Cricket is massive, and the new Brian Lara stadium is a huge landmark. They had a cricket game on when I was here (Trinidad vs Jamaica) but they had sold out the tickets otherwise we would have gone.

I spent a day at the beautiful Maracas beach, located on the northern part of Trini. On the way there we stopped at the lookout and had a quick look at the food stalls. I got to try some ‘Chow’, a garlicky spicy way of preserving such things as Pineapple, apple, mango, cucumber... its yummy and not too spicy and I really appreciated the stall holder giving me a taste ( and Jas’s friend Isabelle for buying some of the pineapple one). Maracas beach is a favourite with the locals and its a thing to do to have a ‘bake and shark’ when you go to the beach. Betcha cant guess what I had... Can I say amazing (again!!) You not only get your bake (which is a deep fried Roti) You get beautiful fresh deep fried shark fillet inside it, then you go to a buffet like area and add as many of the additions as you want . Yep, of course I added a bit of EVERYTHING . I had to taste it all. Seriously that thing was amazing. BTW I do taste everything first before adding pepper sauce... pepper sauce heightens the flavours. Jas’s friend Isabelle got her son in law to give us a shout out on the radio station he worked at ( they had it playing at the beach), so ‘Karen from Australia’ is now Trini Famous... love it!!

Jasmine took me out to the Pitch lake, in La Brea, and I’ll admit, I had no idea what it was ( I thought it was a lake!!) Anyway, some how we ended up with a colourful local as our personal guide, he was You tube famous and has apparently featured on David Attenboroughs visit to the lake. I have to sit and edit my ‘documentary’ when I’m back in Australia, it’ll be awesome.. I promise. Suffice to say the lake is the most amazing tar pit. Seriously amazing tar pit. The roads leading into the area are all like travelling over mini crazy hills due to the impact of the tar movements in the area. You have to use an authorised guide on the site, which is fair enough as a wrong step could see you disappear forever into the tar... literally... Trinidads pitch lake is the largest natural deposit of asphalt in the world (estimated to hold about 10 million tonnes) Its covers about 100 acres and is about 250 feet deep. There is a cool legend involving the origin of the lake the involves a hummingbird (I like the story), Historically Walter Raleigh re-discovered the lake on his expedition there in 1595. It has that charming rotten egg smell, and the mud and sulphur water apparently have healing properties. Locals were there immersing themselves in some of the pools while we were there. As we didnt have swim suits we had to settle with getting coated in the mud on our legs, and for me, also my face...lol!!! I didnt get a chance to put it on myself, out guide was very keen to smear it all over my face... (and shirt and hair.. etc...). Rinsing it, after it had set, was a whole other process involving splashing what looked Iike green water all over my face (and legs), all I wanted to do was rinse my face with some fresh water afterwards - and it took over an hour or so until I finally got somewhere to do it. Let’s not talk about how much scrubbing it required later that night to get the last bits of our skin! A great fun day though, made all the better for our colourful guide! I have had a crash course in some of the Trinidadian slang/words and between that and their accents I am sometimes lost in a conversation... (definitely accents particularly when you are trying to enter the country and the border control guy is talking to you and you have to continually say, sorry what??? ) I’m a lot better now!!

Jas couldn’t make it over to Tobago as she had work scheduled at her house that she needed to be around for. So I decided to head over for a night, hire a car, and see what I could see. Its literally a 20 min flight over (only costs about 50 US return) FYI 24 hrs isn’t really enough to see everything. I didnt get to the water fall or national park. I had headed down to Store bay beach when I first arrived with instructions to try the curry crab, conch and dumplings in Tobago (its their local specialty, amongst a few other things). Have to say I liked the conch, crab was over cooked and dry, and dumplings were kind of chewy. The ‘provisions’ that I got with it were really nice though - Plantain, Potato, green banana, avocado ..I would have liked to have tried another outlet to give a second opinion, but didnt have the time. I did get to the beautiful Pigeon Park, a natural reserve area, filled with some shops, water sports hire, beautiful beaches and glorious spot to watch the sunset. I also got out to the Fort of King George in Scarborough hiking up the giant hill to take in the glorious views. Hilariously there was a traffic hold up on my way there due to some goats being herded along the road. Island time boy. I would have to say, as much as its a part of the one country, Tobago island is completely different to Trinidad. Its a lot more touristy for a start, it has more servicible beaches. The roads are not as pot holed as Trinidad. The people are still lovely, but you get the tourist scouters who are looking to sell you on anything they can. Its a beautiful place and I’m so glad I got to go across and visit. As always, I can always go back!

My time in the Caribbean has come to a close. (9-16 Oct). What an adventure. I have had a fabulous time, and recommend to anyone to come here and see this place, taste the food and meet the people for themselves. The country has their own issues with government corruption which impacts the improvement of infrastructure like roads etc. And there are warnings around safety as there are elements involved in crime that impact locals and tourists alike. This just makes Trinidad Tobago, not unlike a lot of other countries that I have visited on my adventures. It just means the more prepared you are to be open to new things, different ways of doing things, different cultures. The more you are aware of your own safety, and that of your belongings , the more you can avoid crime. Crime can impact you anywhere in the world, countries like this dont have it any more or less than others, it just seems to be in the media more....