#he no longer looks like a cat that used to be overweight

[mugenloopdalove]

Is anyone up

[beesandwasps]

In Memoriam

Today, my poor wonderful remaining cat was put to sleep after months with inoperable cancer.

His exact age was unknown; I adopted him from a shelter as an adult cat and the vet’s best guess was that he was around 3, based on the state of his teeth. That was 17 years ago, so he was around 20 or 21. (The average lifespan of a male indoor cat in the US is 16 to 17 years, so he lived a long life.)

Unlike my other poor cat, who passed away 3½ years ago of kidney failure, I chose him on purpose. I felt that the other cat needed a companion (which turned out to be untrue, really) and went to the local shelter. When they opened the kennel for him, he immediately climbed out into my arms and cuddled with me, and I adopted him as quickly as possible.

He was a very quiet and friendly cat — every vet said he was one of the most well-behaved, calm cats they had ever dealt with, and he would sit in anybody’s lap. He was usually very quiet and it was fairly rare to hear him vocalize for anything except food. (My other cat, who was a very loud cat, taught him how to howl for food in the morning, a habit he continued even after he was left alone.)

He was overweight for much of his life, although in the last year or so of his life he became thinner. (Keeping in mind that he was the cat equivalent of 80 or 85 years old, that is hardly surprising.) He loved meat when I would permit him to have scraps, and pate wet food. His teeth weren’t good — he lost several before I got him, apparently — so although he would eat dry food, he tended to swallow it whole, and was often sick afterwards. The discovery of puree treats — you may have seen cat owners refer to them as “gogurt” — was absolutely the most amazing innovation he ever encountered in his life, and if he had been permitted he would have lived on them.

He never had much taste for catnip, and it was only late in his life that I discovered that he enjoyed dried silver vine, which he liked to roll around in. He also was not very interested in birds or squirrels, although he liked to sit on the back of the sofa by the window and stare out into the wild. He also was not hugely interested in escaping — although I was always careful to keep the doors closed so that he couldn’t wander out, unlike my other cat he never made mad dashes to get out. He much preferred to sit in a sunny spot and doze.

He also loved to sit in a lap and be petted, more than most cats, although until very nearly the end he had limits as to how long he would stay — after half an hour he would decide that he had had enough and get up to go sit somewhere else. (Within watching distance, though — he always liked to keep an eye on his human.) Certainly, though, he was capable of sitting in one spot longer than any normal human was capable of keeping their legs still, and always looked affronted if you shifted him to switch legs, or — worse yet — moved him off your lap to get up and do something, even if that something was to feed him. In the last couple weeks of his life, he became so happy to stay in a warm lap that he no longer seemed to have limits, and would sit for an hour or more at a time without the slightest sign of getting restive.

At least 3 months ago, he developed cancer, which is a fairly common cause of death in elderly cats. Apparently, it tends to metastasize very quickly, and there is no effective treatment whatsoever, in part because there is no way to make the cat cooperate. Although he did begin to waste away and have tangible lumps in many places on his body, he still had plenty of energy left, even this morning when I took him in to be euthanized — but one of the lymph nodes on his jaw had swollen up so incredibly that he experienced horrible pain when he ate, and was unmistakably getting disoriented after every meal; he had begun to isolate himself in the basement in a totally uncharacteristic way, which is something cats begin to do when they believe they are going to die.

He is already deeply missed, and no other cat could ever replace him.

[kidzbopdeathmetal]

Hi, I’m still alive, I swear.

A lot has happened since I last posted on this blog, and I’m not sure if I’m “back” per se, but I thought I’d at least check in, maybe look around for a minute or two. I can’t remember what all I have shared, so here’s just a quick summary of my life thus far.

I’ve been to a few shows since the start of the pandemic - Ghost with Mastodon and Spiritbox, and Lamb of God, Killswitch Engage, Baroness, and Suicide Silence being the two shows in particular I’ve attended. Generally, I’ve kept a low profile as I’m an agoraphobe and would like to not catch the literal plague of our times.

Which I did in fact catch. It sucked a lot. I was scared for a few days, but I managed to pull through it without needing to go to the hospital (it got pretty close though). After my grandfather dying from covid complications, getting it was kind of a terrifying situation for me given my own health problems.

We had also just adopted a third dog, a German shepherd mix of indeterminate origin that had been found on the street. We found out that she had been abused and abandoned by her prior owner, so now she’s our dog. She’s specifically MY dog, actually, and I’ve got my work cut out with her, as she is unfortunately overweight and I have to get her enough exercise to hopefully cut that weight down to a more healthy number.

Which became difficult during the two weeks I was sick, and I still have some lingering effects MONTHS later - for instance my breathing capacity, which was never great to begin with on account of life long asthma, has been cut down even further. I can barely walk at a brisk pace now without nearly keeling over.

After I recovered from covid in the sense that I was no longer testing positive, it felt like life was throwing nothing but curve balls my and my husband’s way. For reasons I cannot go into legally, my husband lost his job, and we were very uncertain what we would do. I’m at the tail end of my Master’s degree and cannot leave Florida until I’ve got my diploma, considering I LITERALLY have 2 classes left.

After much debate, we decided that it was time to leave Florida anyway. We’ve been wanting to leave for a long time as neither of us have been happy here as life long Floridians, and it’s only getting harder for the people born and raised in this state to live here.

But, moving at this time means separating on a six month basis. It has not been easy. We drove to our new home state together to get a feel for it and get my husband settled into the house he’s renting, and then I flew back to Florida. I cried on the plane.

Currently, I’m working on finishing my degree still and trying to keep myself busy. I was alone with most of our animals (we have 3 dogs and 2 cats between us, one of which is currently with my husband) for recent holidays and it was genuinely miserable.

We’ll see if I’m here for a more permanent basis or if I’ll fuck off back to being on hiatus from Tumblr. Time will tell.

Also the new Septicflesh and Zeal & Ardor albums fuck hard and I love them a lot. Y’all should give them a listen if you have not.

TTFN

[halcyon-reverie3]

OBCD Chapter 1 - To Smile A Smile

“There is no magic cure, no making it all go away forever. There are only small steps upward; an easier day, an unexpected laugh, a mirror that doesn't matter anymore.” — Laurie Halse Anderson

“Oi Earle! Boy get over here! These kids done broke them slush machines!”

With an audible sigh, he dragged his figure across the store. Strewn across the soiled floor were the vibrant contents of the slush machines, the culprits’ sullied shoes dragging the mess even further. Disheartened, he grabbed a nearby mop and dragged it across the floor. “Don’t you get sassy with me boy! Ain’t like I didn’t hear your ungrateful self sighing two minutes ago near the counter,” the manager shrieks. “Clean that mess and get back here. I ain’t paying you a single penny if you ain’t at the checkout by 10.” Brash words from a brash person. If he didn’t need quick cash, Earle would have been a normal 15-year-old with a normal 15-year-old’s life, not mopping slush from the dirt-yellow floor of the “century-old” convenience store.

“That’ll be €29.99. Cash or card?” Earle looked up to face the lady he was serving. She stared insolently at him, blowing her fuchsia bubblegum before it splattered on her face. Gross, Earle thought. She stared him up and down, scrutinising him. “Cash,” she replied, throwing him a wad of cash. Shocked at the action, he didn’t even realise the scowl that left his lips. The lady glared at him, snatching the goods before Earle even finished cashing them. “Watch it! Chunky monkey like you ain’t got no place left for attitude. The only thing you got in you is them gallons of food,” she spat out, seething. Everywhere around him, people started laughing. Earle glared at the ground, fighting back the burning-hot tears that threatened to spill over. He knew he was overweight, borderline obese even. However, he never expected people to be this uncivilised. Or perhaps they think you’re uncivilised, a cruel voice spoke in his head, mocking him.

“Don’t mind them. You shouldn’t take these things to heart,” a gentle voice spoke. Earle’s head shot up, looking at the enchantress that stood in front of him. She was the epitome of beauty, with hair as dark as night, hazel skin that shone golden in the limelight of the store, rosy lips, and- Oh, Earle thought, mesmerised. Her eyes… Her eyes that were the gentlest shade of brown. Her eyes that mimicked that of a cat. It was harmless, this fascination. If I was a girl, I’d wanna look just like her, Earle thought, skinny and perfect. She smiled a smile that shone his world, all the previous negativity vanishing from his self. I’d wanna smile a smile just like her, rocking everyone’s world, he thought. It was never anything romantic, it was only the longing that came with teenage age. The longing to be perfect, to be popular, to be everything that the world could never be.

“Diya,” another voice rang in a singsong manner. The girl in front of him turned around, waving at a group of people in the store. Earle’s face fell. Those were the kids that broke the slush machine. The gang of kids hopped on forwards to Diya. Amongst the group was the lady with the splattered bubblegum. “Ay, this that chunky monkey I was talking to y’all about. Diya, girl don’t tell me you were talking to this… this cashier,” she said. Other people nodded in agreement, staring at Diya quizzically. Diya looked once at Earle and once at her friend, and her whole self changed. She was no longer the sweet girl that Earle aspired to be like, but rather one amongst the countless people that mistreated him. “Yeah noooo,” she drawled. “No way I’m gonna talk to someone like him.” The whole group laughed at him as they made their way out of the store. The lady with the bubblegum snickered before she stuck the used gum on his uniform. The group hooted at her actions, creating chaos before the manager of the store shooed them away.

Earle trudged inside his home, defeated. Not only did that incident upset him, but the manager also took off 40% of his pay for today for “being absolutely useless at keeping the peace inside this ‘esteemed’ convenience store.” Subconsciously, he found himself in front of his mirror. Like a balloon, that cruel voice in his head said. He wants to lose weight, he really does. But the moment he thinks about the challenges that await him should he take that path, he’s filled with trepidation. The stress and the despair make up the ultimate recipe for stress eating. Burgers, cereal, rice, everything.

He plopped down on his couch as he surfed through social media. There, he found a familiar face. The face of an angel with the personality of the devil. He found Diya. Her page was filled with her pictures, all of them amazing. She has such an amazing life, Earle thought, longing for that very life. He likes one of her pictures and clicks follow. He ponders for a long time before deciding on sending her a message — Hey, it’s me Earle from the convenience store. Remember? He waits, and he waits. He watches as Diya types a reply before deleting it and starting anew. He waits, and he waits, hopeful. However, he should have expected better from a girl with the face of an angel and the personality of the devil.

“Ew. Don’t EVER txt me again. ANYWHERE.”

Earle scrambles, sitting up and typing furiously, fingers flying on the keyboard. A rushed reply, but a reply nonetheless. But he could never send the message, not when the bright red sign appeared on his screen:

diya.elostra♡ has blocked you.

[thinking-mans-submissive]

He’s been in and out of the sauna several times already. He reminds me of the feral tom cat i’ve been trying to tame: big, beautiful, skittish, rarely looks me in the eyes but willing to take my food offerings as though he’s doing me a favor.

The intimidating young Man before has come back, and this time i think He’s made a decision. His options at the club today are limited and i can tell He’s finally figured that out. The trail of overweight old men who’ve been following Him around like puppies have finally given up the chase and we’re alone. 

Up to now, He’s ignored me. i’ve not moved from my spot the entire time and continue to keep my head slightly bowed and eyes low in a show of humility and extreme passivity. It’s not dignity or self-respect that’s kept me from following Him around like the others; i know what i am and there’s no place for pride in submission. i’ve left Him alone out of respect and old-fashioned manners. He’s a Man. An Alpha. And He deserves a certain decorum, even in this raunchy place. At least i think so. 

i’m sure i’m not what He wanted when He decided to come here, but i’m grateful nonetheless. He stands directly in front of me, the light behind Him silhouetting His heavy cock beneath the thin towel clinging to His waist. He stay  standing and i understand why: He’s using me begrudgingly and will be gone before i’ve made it back to my seat. 

i slowly go to my knees. i never look up at Him, and my touch is careful and respectful at all times. i move the edge of the towel to the side, being cautious not to graze His thigh with my fingers, even though i want to touch Him. 

My trembling lips close softly around the swollen head of His beautiful cock as it rises to meet me. i don’t moan or make any sounds that might draw attention to myself.i suck His turgid shaft with reverence, with long, wet strokes that stretch my throat. His cock responds to my loving care with a sudden expulsion of precum. 

Finally, He touches me and i instinctively melt into His grip, letting Him take over. There is nothing gentle or kind in the way He grips my skull and abuses my throat. My jaw aches and my retching spurs Him on to a quick conclusion. i can smell it but can’t taste it yet, as He empties Himself down my throat with a slight grunt. 

It’s over, and as expected, He pulls away and exits, leaving a thick trail of cum across my lips. i suspect He’s been at the club for less than an hour. i’ve sat here for much longer. But now, i can leave. 

[chibi-pix]

Hey guys!  I felt it was a good idea. I want to share photos and a bit about the cats I have. Some are at home (Mama’s place), some at my Grandpa’s place.  So, how about it?  Time to introduce the cats!

Name: Soot Age: assumed 6 or 7 years (adopted three or four years ago) Location: Home Skills: Pissing people and cats off while being adorable. Occupation: professional asshole Likes: Yogurt, Pop Tarts, hiding under my dresses, chasing the ladies, and horror video games. Dislikes: Kisses, vacuum cleaners, my singing Extra: Soot has no understanding of my personal space. Under my skirt, across my chest, trying to get into my yogurt, you name it. He loves snacks, especially smoothies made with milk, yogurt, and frozen strawberries. He does not show signs of lactose intolerance. When we adopted him, he was so scrawny. Now he’s a chonk. He may be a smidgen overweight, but he’s happy. 

Name: Christmas Age: maybe 17? (Adopted three or four years ago) Location: Home Skills: healing purrs Occupation: Polite old lady Likes: Snuggles, giving her own cat scans, making my leg go numb Dislikes: someone trying to clean her butt, someone getting the mats out of her fur, me not paying attention to her Extra: She’s an older lady. She’s a bit sore with her age and maybe weight; she struggles to move, but she always comes to sit on my lap or shoulder for love. Her purrs are comforting and helps with my headaches. With her age, she doesn’t groom herself like she used to, so she gets mats. Mama and I have to team up to get them out.

Name: Bandit Age: possibly 17? (She’s Christmas’ sister and adopted with her) Location: Home Skills: telling time without a clock Occupation: Judging others

Likes: treats, catnip, the laser pointer, calling for the manager Dislikes: being picked up, being pet too much, me being one minute late giving her her treats Extra: She’s always silently judging others. Me singing? Judgment. Another cat licking a bag? Judgment. The videos I watch? Judgment. My sneeze? She’s damning me to hell, I’m sure. However, she is kind and caring, If I’m not feeling well, she’ll let me rest longer. 

Name: Baby Boo (Baby) Age: maybe 14 or 15? (Adopted three or four years ago) Location: Home Skills: Summoning demons from the dark pits of hell and turning invisible in the shadows Occupation: witch’s familiar Likes: lurking in the shadows, being pet, sitting on her tower and watching over the peasants, yogurt (but she is lactose intolerant, so I don’t let her have any) Dislikes: demons not obeying her, when the Hellgate suddenly opens up while she’s enjoying a snack and it interrupts her, dancing, and Soot. Poor Soot.  Extra: This is the cat of a witch and I’m pretty sure while she appears to be in her teens, she’s actually the ancient spirit of a scorned witched, cursed to live out her eternal life in the form of a cat, watching over witchlings and commanding legions of demons. She is also the one most likely to kill me in my sleep, but she doesn’t because I’m her person. Thank you, Baby. You make me a proud witch.

Name: Cimmaron (Cim) Age: 11 or 12 (adopted on a farm when he was a year old) Location: Grandpa’s Skills: being cute Occupation: executive art supervisor Likes: sitting with me while writing or drawing, trying to wake up Grandpa, milk from cereal, gravy from beef stew Dislikes: showers (not that I force him) Extra: Cim is a wholesome lad. He likes to chill and see what’s up. He tends to follow me around when he’s not spending hours sleeping on mine or Grandpa’s bed. He accompanies me for my showers, keeping an eye on me.  He was most likely reincarnated and therefore has the soul of a gentle old man.

Name: Buffy Age: seven (adopted when he was about a year old) Location: Grandpa’s Skills: sleeping Occupation: horny freeloader Likes: reminding the dogs who are about fifty pounds each that he was there first, boiled chicken, yelling for attention and then snubbing those who are willing to pet him, Voltron: Legendary Defender Dislikes: being picked up Extra: This freeloader doesn’t contribute. He caught one mouse when he was a year and a half old and that was it. He tends to jump up on my bed to cuddle one of the dogs and watch cartoons with me. He knocked up another cat that my grandparents adopted.

Name: Horatio (H) Age: about 6 (born at the house; Buffy is the father) Location: Grandpa’s Skills: sleeping, eating, and screaming Occupation: screaming freeloader Likes: food. Cat food, chicken, bacon, apple pie, toast, anything he can get to. Dislikes: being picked up, my sister Extra: This guy. He is an absolute chonk. We know he is. But he won’t exercise for anything and when we try to feed the other cats, he shows up wanting food, too. He’ll scream whenever he sees fit and when someone would check on him, he just walks away. He also likes to lay across an entire step on the stairway. Asshole. But cute. His three sisters were adopted by a nurse who took care of my grandma. He’s now an only child pretty much and he sure tries to remind us of that and tries to get us to spoil him. Also, while he loves toast, we do not give him toast. We have birds who have plain wheat toast with their breakfast; one of them dropped a piece and before one of the dogs could get it, Horatio laid down with it and started eating it.

Bonus of Buffy and Horatio.

Name: Foreigner Age: Unknown (stray) Location: Grandpa’s Skills: existing Occupation: supervisor Likes: Walks with grandpa, keeping an eye on Grandpa when he’s working in the yard, sleeping in my chair, chasing after my feet Dislikes: Other cats and dogs invading his space, Ink (another cat) Extra: He just showed up out of nowhere, as cats tend to do out in the country. He was skittish at first, but he warmed up to Grandpa very quickly. Now he’s just part of the family. He is not allowed in the house because he doesn’t get along with the indoor lads and Grandpa’s got a bird. Foreigner also supervises when the horses get out, making sure we’re all okay and can get them back.

Name: Ink Age: unknown (stray) Location: Grandpa’s Skills: Hunting Occupation: Wanderer, professional barn protector Likes: catching mice and other pests on the farm, being admired, keeping his plans for world domination a secret, sunbathing, making cars stop on the road because he’s an idiot who plays in the street and thankfully cars don’t go through often Dislikes: Feriegner Extra: This is a cat with a plan. He was probably sent here from another planet or is a warlock in cat form, slowly observing others and planning to dominate the planet. He wanders off for days at a time, perhaps looking for weaknesses in the planet’s defenses. He’s done with everyone’s shit, but love and affection restores his faith in humanity.

And that is it. These are the lovely cats of my life.  I hope you all enjoyed meeting them.  Until next time. 

Editing to add Myst. She’s fictional, but she’s still a cat.

Name: Myst Age: eternal (created three years ago) Location: going back and forth between the spirit realm and the mortal plane Skills: can go through walls Occupation: existing Likes: sleeping on shoulders, chasing ghosts, people, sleeping on the computer Dislikes: holy water Extra: Myst is a spectral cat from an unknown location. She’s rather recognizable for her fairly transparent body and skull-like face. She floats, shifts size, can be a blob, is very expressive, and doesn’t shed fur. Of course, she sheds a sort of ecto-plasm and it’s hard to wash out. She’s a wholesome cat who likes attention. 

[larryfanficcatalog]

Non Au

page one || page two

Given A Chance (174k)

Summary: Louis and Harry run into each other five years after One Direction ends and learn how to love each other again. Featuring: Reggie as the overweight labrador, Niall as Louis’ last grip on reality, and Nowheresville, North Carolina as the setting for Louis’ worst nightmare to come true.

And Then A Bit (159k)

Summary: Harry and Louis fake a relationship for publicity. Eventually it becomes a lot less fake and a lot more real.

To The Ends Of The Earth (68k)

Summary: During a yearlong hiatus, Louis visits Harry at his cabin in Idaho, where long-buried feelings ignite like the fire keeping them warm.

Still I Call It Magic (15k)

Summary: harry and louis before and after concerts throughout the last 4 years.

It Goes, It’s Golden (151k)

Summary: Harry and Louis broke under the strain of it all and now, years on, there's a chance to put all the pieces back together. Set in early April 2015 all the way through to October. Written in Harry and Louis' perspectives, alternating every chapter.

Call Unanswered (249k)

Summary: The day after his 27th birthday, Harry Styles attempts suicide. Louis is flown to his bedside to unravel the mystery of why he did it after a flash drive is found with a note attached, addressed to Louis. On it are a collection of 78 songs, all written for different dates from their past.

When We Were Younger (53k)

Summary: In where you get to see small glimpses of Harry and Louis' life together through the years, first through the eyes of others and eventually their own, as their life keeps spinning madly around them.

Love Is A Word (You Gave It A Name) (21k)

Summary: it's christmas. in between snowman building, tree shopping, and ill-advised skating on a frozen lake, louis and harry get ready to take the most important step of their lives.

They Know (7k)

Summary: The start of Harry and Louis' relationship from the other boys' point of view.

Happy To Be Here (70k)

Summary: The weeks spanning October 2012 - January 2013 are a rollercoaster for Harry and Louis. There's shows to play, an album to promote, publicity stunts to be acted out...and several new tattoos to be inked. Throughout it all, the boys focus on the most important thing in their lives - their relationship.

Who Knew (130k)

Summary: Louis cheats on Harry and gets a girl pregnant

The Winner Takes It all (6k)

Summary: Harry wears only his purple boa, and Louis make good use of the other two.

Stop The World (‘Cause I Wanna Get Off With You) (12k)

Summary: Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.

The Dark And The Dentist (66k)

Summary: “I know this song,” Louis whispers, and Harry has to lean his ear toward him to pick up what he’s saying. “It was written for people to dance to it. We should be dancing.” We can’t, Harry almost spits, but it’d be stupid of him. Louis knows they can’t. Even if he looks like any regular Parisian in their twenties, and Harry looks like any hipster Parisian in their twenties, they can’t anyway. To be fair, they probably wouldn’t do it even if they were out. But if they were two uni students, both in Paris for an exchange, meeting over fallen books at the library, or because of mutual friends, or watching Monet’s Water Lilies? “How would we dance?” Harry murmurs, mouth almost pressed to Louis’ cheek, so close he can feel his warmth. What a picture they must make, two millionaires freezing in a park and dreaming of a different life.

An account of the events of November 2014. Canon-compliant.

Always Come Back To You (29k)

Summary: “I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones. Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

Gravity Pulls On You And Me (4k)

Summary: Having to hide his relationship isn't easy. Harry knows it's the price he has to pay to be able to be in One Direction and still be with Louis. Keeping his love a secret is slowly starting to upset him more and more. One night, he reaches his breaking point.

Bigger Than Life (49k)

Summary: “Boybander Harry Styles spotted leaving West Hollywood joined hand in hand with new beau, Xander Ritz”

His heart drops in his chest as he scrolls down, ignoring the short irrelevant article and looking desperately for a picture. Sure enough, there’s pap shots of Harry and Xander, walking hand in hand, looking drunk and cheerful and together.

And that’s—that’s really not what Louis was expecting at all.

Perfect (8k)

Summary: Harry and Louis write Perfect.

If You Say Run (I’ll Run With You) (4k)

Summary: an interpretation of what happened behind the scenes of One Direction's final performance before the hiatus.

I Want To Be So Complete I Could Light A Whole City (3k)

Summary: Harry and Louis have a weekend together before Louis is back in the States and Harry is set to jet off to Jamaica to start recording his album. Harry's love for Louis runs so deep he might just suffocate.

Rainy Days In The Sun (5k)

Summary: It's not always perfect, but it's them. A collection of scenes.

A Few Of My Favorite Things (8k)

Summary: Harry and Louis do cat sitting.

The Ways We Fight (10k)

Summary: How Harry and Louis learn to disagree with each other.

Of Love And Ice Cream (2k)

Summary: A little look into a very hot day in LA. Harry and Louis are hot, eat ice cream and, as always, love each other.

Sugar Pie, Honey Punch (2k)

Summary: Harry is baking and Louis is not helping.

You’re My Light (2k)

Summary: Harry arrives at their home in LA a day after Louis and finds him smoking on the balcony.

Go And Ride With Me, Get High With Me (2k)

Summary: harry and louis smoke before the apple music festival

[herohotline]

Are you still doing requests? Can I request Aizawa with a goofy hero male s/o trying to make him laugh after a long day of teaching?

A/N: Thank u for this request!! i’ve been looking forward to writing it so much hHjgg. Also, a note: If you want to check if im taking requests, check my blog title. It will say BNHA Imagines ; Requests OPEN/CLOSED in big caps!

Pairing: Aizawa / Male Reader

If one more person told Shouta that teaching a bunch of teenagers was easy, he felt entitled enough to spit in their face. 

Shouta really had nothing to worry about, though- by the time class was over, no one dared walk in his path or look at him wrongly because of the pissed off aura he gave, stomping down the halls with a frown. Technically it’s not professional to act so grumpy, but God, if he had to tear Bakugo away from Izuku one more time he might accidentally choke the kid. 

Typically he rides a train or gets a ride of some sort home, but today Shouta walks. He needs to blow off steam- get this irritation out of his system before he implodes. It’s not a very long walk, around 40 minutes, but the minutes pass by in seconds because suddenly he’s on his doorstep, moving to unlock the door before realizing that it already is.

Shouta groans.

The hero slowly opens the door, walking in with quiet steps. He notices that nothing is out of place so he closes the door, beginning to shuck off his shoes and take off his capture weapon. 

“___?” Shouta calls out into the hall, his socks sliding against the hardwood floors.

“Hey, Shouta!” It’s you- of course it is. “I’m in the living room!”

“What’re you doing here?” 

“Uhh,” when Shouta enters the living area, he sees you with his fat, black cat resting on your lap. He’s purring like an engine- it ticks Shouta off. You’re obviously his favorite. “I wanted to see you. Is that okay? I thought we could, uh-” the longer you look at him, the more understanding your face gets. “Oh, I get it. You’re a little pissy today, aren’t you?” A grin splits on your face. 

“Shut up and get out,” he scowls and turns to go into his bedroom, hearing you laugh from behind him. 

“Come on, let me make you feel better!” You place the cat down on the couch, rushing over to walk behind your boyfriend as he starts to undress. “I could make us some food, put on a dumb movie.” 

Shouta ignores you as you rifle through his drawers, grumbling under his breath. “I have to grade papers.”

“Then I’ll help you do that! Just give me the cheat sheet and I’m ready to mark some good grades.”

“Bad grades,” Your boyfriend corrects you, taking the shirt you picked out of your hands and pulling it over his head. “None of them studied except for the usual ones.”

“Ok, I know this. Momo, Todoroki, Midoriya and… Bakugo?” 

“Got it in one,” he nods and shucks off his pants, grabbing the sweats sitting at the edge of his bed and putting them on. “He’s got a temper like a toddler but he takes his grades seriously, at least.”

You walk up to Shouta, wrapping your arms around from behind him and resting your head on his shoulder. “You have quite a temper, too, y’know.” 

“I don’t.”

“Yeah, sure,” He grumbles as you snicker. Slowly you pull him back with you, waiting until you could feel the bed frame against your heels. 

“What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” you sing-song, “just holding youuu- here we go!” You fall backward on the bed, Shouta falling with you with a surprised yelp. You immediately begin laughing, Shouta squirming in your arms like a cat who doesn’t want to be picked up. You hook a leg around his and quickly roll over, putting yourself on top of him. 

“Get off,” he seethes- you ignore it and admire the red tinting his cheeks. You burst into giggles as you kiss them, your hands twitching at his sides. 

“You’re just mad cause I made you scream like a little girl.” 

“I didn’t do that,” Shouta scowls at you again but he doesn’t stop you as you trail your lips all around his face and neck. 

“You need to relax, Shouta,” you hum. “Take it easy. Those kids tire you out so much I’m afraid you’re gonna be sleepwalking soon, muttering about grades and fighting stances.”

“I’m basically already doing that.”

“So relax!” You tell him again, getting up on your knees and pulling him up with you. “If you come with me on the couch and watch dumb shows, I’ll let you cuddle Baby.” 

“That’s not his name,” Shouta finally cracks a smile. “He likes you more than me, he’ll just hop right over to you.” 

“Oh, just give him some treats and he’ll like you in no time.” You give him a peck on the lips as you crawl off of him, taking his hands to guide him to the living room. “That’s what I did.”

“So you’re the reason my cat is overweight.”

“Guilty as charged- but hey! He likes me more than you!”

“I’m charging you with the bill when he gets diabetes.”

“That’s-” You sputter. “I’m not gonna give him diabetes!”

“We’ll see,” Shouta smiles again and switches places with you, pulling you down on the couch this time on top of him. “Can I cuddle you instead?”

“Oh, you big fat gay man,” You sigh and lean against him with a satisfied smile. “Of course you can.”

“Shut up or I’ll change my mind.”

You snort, patting your thighs and letting Baby situate himself on you. “You’re stuck now. You can either have all of us or none of us, Shouta.” One of his hands unwraps from your waist to pet the top of Baby’s head. 

“You’re holding me hostage.”

“Excuse me- I believe it’s the other way around.”

“I could push you off right now.”

“And hurt Baby?”

“That’s why you’re holding me hostage.”

“Oh, so you’d gladly push me to the ground, but if your cat’s safety is involved all the sudden you have a heart?” You look back at him with a raised brow and he grins.

“Yeah, sounds like it.”

You turn back around, rolling your eyes and grabbing the remote beside you. “Heartless…” You mutter, but you don’t really mean it- not when Shouta’s relaxing against you so much and holding you so close. You notice how he kisses your neck and you sigh. “Do you feel better now?” 

“Maybe,” he mutters, snuggling into your neck and holding you closer. “Thank you.” 

You can’t help the big smile on your face. “Of course, Shouta,” your hand grabs his own that he’s using to pet Baby, lacing your fingers with his. “I love you.”

Your boyfriend hums. “Love you, too.”

[voltrontranscript]

VLD S8E5: The Grudge

Season 8 Episode 5: The Grudge

Transcript by @dragonofyang

Summary: The Paladins and the crew of the Atlas arrange to rendezvous to discuss how the Altean robeasts are able to wormhole and the destruction of Olkarion. Acxa and the Atlas crew are still getting used to one another.

[Google Doc]

Iverson: Who’s a good girl? You are. I used to have a dog like this years ago. Old Sally would follow me just about everywhere I went. I couldn’t turn around without her being there, smiling her big, drooly smile, which was actually a problem sometimes. I once tripped over her, slipped on her drool, and went shoulder-first into the refrigerator. Yeah, and that’s where this clicking came from.

Veronica: Is that why you were struggling with the pull-ups, sir?

Iverson: No, that’s because I’m old and overweight. And watch your insubordination.

Veronica: Yes, sir!

Curtis: Was the dog alright?

Iverson: She was fine, thank goodness. Yeah, that dog meant the world to me.

Veronica: I know how you feel. My brothers and sisters adopted every stray animal they could find. There was this one cat, “Flash” we called him. He hated everybody except me. Smart cat.

Curtis: What about you, Acxa? Did you have pets where you’re from?

Acxa: I never had a creature companion, but one of my partners, Narti, was bonded to an immortal cat named Kova. That cat gave her the ability to experience the world.

Curtis: Oh. That’s great.

Acxa: Until Lotor killed Narti and we had to abandon the animal on our destroyed ship so we could escape without being tracked.

Shiro, on PA: Crew, report to the bridge immediately.

[Cut to Iverson, Coran, Curtis, and Veronica entering the bridge.]

Shiro: I’ve got an incoming transmission from the paladins. Go ahead, Allura.

Allura: Atlas, we’ve managed to track down an Altean robeast.

Coran: You found one!

Shiro: Where is it? Did you engage the creature?

Allura: Unfortunately, we were too late. It attacked the Olkari and stole the remains of the weaponized cube.

Coran: Is Olkarion okay?

Keith: No. Olkarion is gone.

Coran: No.

Allura: The loss of Olkarion is devastating to us all, but we were able to acquire some vital information.

Keith: We learned from Olkarion that the robeasts have been traveling via wormhole, which leave behind unique energy signatures. Pidge created a program that can identify those signatures and pinpoint their exact locations.

Allura: We’re sending over the readings from Pidge’s program now.

Coran: Are you telling us these are all robeasts?

Pidge: We’re not positive, but they could be.

Allura: There’s more. After studying the map, we noticed the signatures all radiate from a single epicenter: Oriande.

Coran: Wait, so Honerva could be on Oriande? But I thought only worthy Alteans could get there. Could she have the Mark of the Chosen?

Keith: There’s a lot we don’t know. We need to rendezvous to come up with a plan.

Coran: The Baltuf Nebula would make a good rendezvous point for both of us.

Keith: Send us the coordinates, Coran. See you soon.

[Scene transition to the mess hall.]

Veronica: Acxa! Come join us. So, how did you meet the paladins?

Acxa: I met Keith when I was stuck in the third stomach of a Weblum. He saved my life.

Rizavi: What were you doing in a… stomach?

Acxa: Gathering scaultrite to help enable Lotor to conquer the universe.

Rizavi: I once got stuck in a ball pit when I was a kid.

Veronica: Well, what do you think of the crew? It must be a pretty different dynamic being that we don’t try to kill each other, huh?

Acxa: I suppose, but the Galra had an expression: “Combat is the searing light that burns away imperfections.”

Ina: It would appear the mood at this table has become rather awkward. Most likely due to your Galra lineage. Yep. Definitely… awkward.

[Cut to Shiro in the bridge.]

Keith: Atlas, we had some technical difficulties. We’ll be delayed.

Shiro: Copy that. How long?

Keith: We’re still assessing that. Might be a few hours. We’ll keep you updated.

Shiro: Roger that.

[Scene change to the lions approaching a black and red planet.]

Pidge: Coming up on rendezvous point, straight ahead.

Hunk: Anyone else find it odd that Shiro changed the rendezvous point to this place?

Pidge: I’m reading high CO2 and low oxygen in the atmosphere. We’ll need our suits to breathe if we go out there.

Hunk: I’m not going out there.

Keith: They’re here. Atlas, we have a visual. Paladins, get airborne immediately! This is a trap!

Hunk: It’s just like when we were caught by those pirates!

Lance: We’re about to be captured again!

Keith: Emergency ejection!

Allura: Atlas, come in!

Keith: Atlas, we’re under heavy fire!

Pidge: The Atlas isn’t receiving our communications!

Hunk: The beam has the Lions pinned.

Allura: We must have been set up. But by whom?

Pidge: Guys, we have incoming. It’s closing fast.

Hunk: We need to lose it!

Lance: Isn’t there anything we can do to throw it off our scent?

Pidge: Yeah, I’ve got an idea, but I need a minute.

Hunk: I’ll buy you some time.

Pidge: Got it. It shouldn’t be able to detect us anymore.

Lance: Then let’s get out of here!

Hunk: Oh, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Keith: I need something to draw its attention!

Allura: I’ve got it!

Lance: Huh, good job, Keith. I mean, I was just about to do that, too, but that’s cool.

Pidge: I might be able to hack into it.

[Scene transition to the Paladins gathered around the drone.]

Pidge: This is Galra tech, but it looks like it’s been infused with Olkari elements. The subatomic microfilament is single modulated before it goes through its attenuator. Wow!

Hunk: So, it’s pretty amazing, huh?

Pidge: Yeah.

Hunk: Oh, look at that, it’s single modulated, not double modulated. Huh.

Pidge: Oh, shut up, Hunk! This thing has been locking onto our key encryption protocol that’s built into our suits and bayards.

Keith: How did they get that?

Pidge: I don’t know. Only a genius could do it.

Lance: Can’t we just turn our suits off?

Pidge: Negative. And if the drone had our encryption protocol, then so does that cruiser and anyone on it. If we want to avoid detection, we need to lose our suits and our bayards.

Allura: Remove our armor? In this place?

Hunk: Has anyone read the atmosphere? Oxygen low, CO2 high. We’re not gonna last long, a few hours, tops. We need our suits to survive.

Keith: Yeah, at this point, we’ll survive longer without them.

Lance: So keep our suits on and risk getting blasted, or take our suits off and live long enough before dying from poisoned air.

[Scene transition to the Galra ship hovering over the planet.]

Olkari Technician: Sending you the drone’s last known coordinates now.

Captain: We’re going after them.

Fentress: Why would we do that? It’ll risk the entire operation. We already have the Lions. The paladins have no value.

Captain: They do to me. We’re going in.

Fentress: But we--

Captain: I am the captain, and my authority will not be questioned! You do as I say, or you will spend the rest of your miserable days right here on this planet. Is that understood?

Fentress: Yes, captain.

Captain: Do not let those lions move. No one takes them until the hunt is over.

Olkari Technician: Yes, captain.

Captain: And make sure the Atlas stays put.

Olkari Technician: Copy that.

Shiro: Keith, any updates on your ETA?

Olkari Technician (as Keith): We’re finishing some repairs and about to get underway. We’ll update our ETA when we’re en route.

[Scene change to a shooting range on the IGF-Atlas.]

Acxa: I know you have little trust for me, but your constant presence is tiresome. If you have a problem, let’s end it now.

Veronica: Acxa, it’s not that I don’t trust you.

Acxa: Then what is it?

Veronica: Honestly, I just wanted to get to know you.

Acxa: By sneaking up on me at a firing range?

Veronica: I didn’t sneak up on you.

Acxa: Only because I’m always aware of my surroundings.

Veronica: Look, I’m sorry that I may have been following you around. It just seems like you could use a friend. I know it can be hard to fit in sometimes.

Acxa: I’ve spent my entire life not fitting in. I’m used to it.

Veronica: Right.

Acxa: I was an outcast, born and bred in war. The only way I survived was to become worse than my enemies.

Veronica: I don’t care about what you may have done in your past. I know there’s more to you than that.

Acxa: But some people only see Galra, and I understand why. Sometimes even I question if my people have the ability to change.

Veronica: By choosing to join the coalition, you’re living proof that it is possible. I guess I wanna get to know the Acxa who turned her life around. I have a feeling everyone would like that person.

[Scene change to the volcanic planet.]

Hawkins: They’ve abandoned their suits. Now how are we gonna track them?

Bounty Hunter: We hunt them the old-fashioned way.

[Scene change to the Paladins walking in their undersuits.]

Pidge: Are we sure the Lions are this way?

Hunk: Every direction looks the same.

Pidge: Oh, what I’d give for a GPS right now.

Allura: We cannot allow ourselves to panic. Clearly, we’ve relied on our tech far too much. We need to focus if we’re going to get out of here. Okay, I’m lost.

Hunk: What do we do?

Lance: Our Lions are that way.

Pidge: How do you know? Do you have a scanner you’ve been hiding?

Lance: No, I just looked at the volcano. It was on our left when we came in, so I put it to our right side, and that’s the way out.

Allura: You’re a genius!

Hunk: Oh, snap. Well done, Lance.

Pidge: Uh, well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

Lance: Hey!

Pidge: Ah!

Allura: More drones?

Lance: No, look!

Bounty Hunter: They’ve split up. Stay on their trail. Get them!

[Cut to the Captain and Fentress.]

Hawkins: We’re on the trail of four of the Paladins right now.

Captain: Which four?

Hawkins: The Altean, the big one, the tiny one, and the loud one. They removed their armor to throw us off their scent, but we’ll have them soon.

Captain: Good. The one I really want is this way.

[Scene change to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Olkari Technician (as Keith): Apologies for the delay. We experienced a glitch in navigation. I will have to get back to you.

Veronica: Everything okay out there, Keith? Do you need help from the Atlas?

Olkari Technician (as Keith): No assistance required, thank you. Lance will figure it out.

Veronica: Right, Lance, the navigation genius.

Keith: Affirmative.

Veronica: How long have they been delayed?

Iverson: They should have arrived when we did.

Acxa: Something doesn’t seem right.

Curtis: Look at this. It looks like their frequency has been pinging off a decoy. I’m intercepting it now.

Paladins, overlapping: Atlas! This is an emergency! Atlas, come in! Atlas, help! We’re under attack! It was a trap!

Iverson: We need all hands on deck immediately!

[Scene change to Keith jet-packing along the volcanic planet, then the Bounty Hunter and Hawkins as they chase Hunk and Pidge.]

Bounty Hunter: You think I forgot about you, tiny Paladin? I’ll make you pay for what you did to me!

Hunk: We need to hurry. They’re right behind us.

Pidge: The CO2 is poisoning us by the minute, and we don’t know where we’re going. We can’t keep running.

Hunk: Okay. What do we do?

Pidge: We have to make a stand.

Bounty Hunter: Your brother isn’t here to help you this time. And I’ve upgraded since we last met.

Hunk: Woah! Alright, nice work!

Pidge: Found the Lions. This way.

[Scene change to Allura and Lance running through a cave.]

Lance: Okay, if my volcano logic is correct… the Lions should be on the other side of this--[grunts] Allura, get out of here. Go!

Pirate: Looks like she left.

Pirate 2: Don’t worry, we’ll find her for you.

Lance: Thanks.

Allura: The Atlas!

[Cut to the IGF-Atlas bridge.]

Veronica: That’s where the ghost protocol is emanating from.

Shiro: Hit them with the electromagnetic pulse.

[Cut to the Captain and Fentress walking in the forest.]

Fentress: Squadron Z, come in. Squadron Echo, come in. HQ, come in. HQ is not responding and the other pirates are offline. I never signed up for this!

Captain: Well, you’re in it now.

[Scene change to the loading dock on the IGF-Atlas.]

Olkari Technician: Sophisticated hacking and jamming abilities. Impressive. It’s nice to find others on my level.

Shiro: Yeah, it’s terrific. Now where’s your leader?

Olkari Technician: I don’t know. I lost her signal when you attacked. But she’s out there somewhere, hunting down the Paladin you call “Keith.”

Acxa: And who exactly is your leader?

[Scene change as Fentress gets surprised by Keith, who then stumbles into the Captain.]

Keith: Zethrid?

Zethrid: You took Ezor from me!

Keith: I don’t know what you think I did.

Zethrid: You took away everything. And now my face will be the last one you see!

James: Does anyone have the shot?

Rizavi: It’s too risky!

Acxa: Zethrid, don’t do this!

Zethrid: I knew you’d come. Now you will feel what I felt.

Acxa: It’s over. You’re surrounded.

Zethrid: You think this deters me, Acxa? I welcome death now that Ezor’s gone.

Acxa: Zethrid, I know you hurt. Ezor hurt, too. That’s why she left you. She couldn’t keep holding onto the anger.

Zethrid: Stop!

Acxa: Hear my words. Remember how we first met. We were all so full of hate and rage, half-breeds rejected by the Galra. Lotor used us. He led us down a painful path, a never-ending cycle of destruction and loss. Now’s your chance to break that cycle… with me, with Ezor. She wants you to leave the rage behind.

Zethrid: I’m too far gone. She’ll never take me back!

Acxa: Wait! Please! Don’t let the rage control you.

Zethrid: All I have left… is revenge!

[Scene change to a holding cell on the IGF-Atlas, where Zethrid and the Olkari Technician reside.]

Zethrid: You waste your time, Acxa.

Acxa: I know you’re angry, but I refuse to give up on you. And I know someone else feels the same way.

End.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #335

“on my forehead, a birthmark  /  remove it with the kiss of a knife  /  even if it causes me to die”

Do you recover well from surgery? Judging by the two surgeries I've had, oh yeah. I was hyper as hell when I came home from getting tubes put in my ears as a little kid, even though the doctor said I'd be very sleepy. Then, after my cyst removal, I was put on very strong painkillers but was still warned it was going to be a painful recovery, when it totally wasn't. I literally only took painkillers the first day. What addictions have you had? Caffeine, technology. Would you change your name if you became famous? Nah. If Cupid were real, would you hire him to make someone love you? No. I don't want somebody forced to love me. Ever been to an auction? No. Which word(s) do you generally use to describe someone attractive? (e.g. “fit”, “sexy”) It kinda varies with gender. Women I tend to call "beautiful" or "gorgeous," sometimes "hot" or "cute," while men I usually refer to as "handsome" or "hot"/"sexy." The last person you kissed - are they older or younger than you? She's a bit younger. When was the last time someone wanted you to do something, and you refused? Hm. I dunno. I have a hard time saying "no," so. When was the last time you had Pop Tarts? What flavour were they? Many months ago; I kinda stopped eating them because they're truly not filling and just a load of sugar that veils itself as an actual breakfast choice. But anyway, I liked the chocolate sundae ones. Have you ever felt a temperature below 0? No. Did you ever play Spyro? I LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!! SPYRO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Those games were my CHILDHOOD, and it's half the reason I'm dying for a PS4 to play the remastered trilogy. Speaking of which, it'd be awesome if they remade the The Legend of Spyro trilogy as well. I might just like those games more than the originals, but that's a bold statement I'm unsure about. Have you ever dated someone who was of a foreign origin? I dated a Hispanic guy for less than a day. Have you ever read any of your idols’ books/autobiographies? Ozzy Osbourne's, yes. I'm just fucking waiting for Mark to write one, but he's always said he has so little interest in writing about his life. DO IT, YOU FUCK. Do you own any succulents? No. I think they're pretty, though. Do you have a drone? No. What’s your favorite Netflix series? *shrug* What is something a lot of people like but you don’t? Summertime. The heat, the humidity (at least here), the sunburn from just standing outside for ten minutes... I hate all of it. The ONLY two things I enjoy about summer is swimming and then flowers, though spring is the more floral season here anyway. Do you have revenge fantasies that you never actually play out? They've... happened. Did your first real significant other change you at all? Pretty sure forever. Are you waiting to have sex until you’re married? Once upon a time, that was the plan. Now, nah. I'd just want to be in a healthy, stable, and long-term relationship. What do you think about divorce? It's sad, but necessary for some people in order to be happy, which everyone has the right to be. I used to be very firmly against divorce except in extreme cases like abuse, etc., and I'm still definitely no fan of it and think couples should do their best to work things out, but it's incredibly unfair to believe that someone should be stuck for the rest of their life with a person they just don't love anymore. Getting married can be a mistake; don't damn people forever to be chained to their bad decisions. Do you remember the first time your heart broke? What was the reason? It was probably when Dad just abandoned us. What's the worst prank someone has ever done to you? I don't think anyone's ever pulled a sick joke on me. Have you ever seen someone sleepwalk? Yes; my little sister deadass tried to walk outside late at night. Thank God I was on the computer in the living room and stopped her. What song are you listening to right now? I just turned "Mutter" by Rammstein on. When is the last time you cursed? I'm not re-reading, but I have probably cursed fifty times in this survey already. It's so deeply ingrained into my vocabulary. Are there any words on your shirt? No; it's just a plain gray tank top. Why do you forward forwards? I never do because they annoy the fuck out of me. How many people are you interested in at the moment? Just one in a healthy and logical way. I can't be truly interested in Jason because like come on I haven't spoken to him in four whole years. My PTSD just ensures I never forget the memory of who he was, who probably no longer even exists. I mean, look how much I'VE changed in four years. Do you know any mechanical stuff about cars? Nnnnope. Who was the last person (apart from family) that you spent time with? What did you get up to? Apart from family, I have no idea. If you have pets, when was the last time one of them got on your nerves? Venus never does, but Roman can get on my nerves sometimes when I don't let him lay on me when I'm on the laptop in bed. He's a large cat (not overweight, just a big male cat) and blocks the screen big time unless he lies down properly, which he doesn't always do. He still tends to win when he tries to come over, but sometimes I'll block him with my arm, and this spoiled brat will actually slap it a few times before walking away lmao. Would you rather live in a house with a swimming pool or an indoor cinema? Absolutely a pool. I want one badly. Do you own a credit card? If so, do you currently owe any money on it? Could you afford to pay it off tomorrow if necessary? No. How many hours of sleep do you typically get each night? Is that enough to function or would you rather have more? Especially lately, I don't get nearly enough. Like at the time I'm answering this question, it's 4 AM, and I've been up for almost a couple hours. I struggle with falling asleep, I will ALWAYS wake up at least once in the night, and I jerk awake from nightmares regularly still. It's a big reason why I pretty much require naps. Does your house have a loft/basement? Are they functional or do you just use them for storage? We only have an attic. Do you suffer from road rage? What kind of thing tends to set you off or wind you up while driving? No. I'm way too timid of a driver to get that outwardly pissy about stupid people. I'd just judge them in silence, haha. What kind of animal did you last see in the wild? Is that a common sight where you live? Because of just how common they are, I'm going to assume this excludes birds, in which case it was probably a squirrel? Yeah, the normal brown ones are common. Do you post a lot on social media? If so, what kind of thing do you tend to post on there? Since I was fucking stupid enough to post a suicide note on Facebook (I don't want to hear a goddamn thing about "attention seeking," I genuinely wanted to say goodbye), I almost never, ever, share things about my personal life. Even before, it was rare for me to actually share what's going on with me. All I really do now is share relatable, wholesome, or funny shit I find, as well as political things I'm in firm agreement with. What are some habits you have in common with your parents? I pace like my dad, and it drives people crazy because it apparently makes them anxious? I can't think of an obvious one I have with Mom, but I'm sure one exists. Where's your favourite place to swim - the ocean, a pool, river, lake etc? I feel safest and most clean in a pool, but c'mon, swimming in the ocean is so much fun. When you're saving your place in a book, do you use a bookmark or fold your pages down? Or something else? It depends on the book, it seems. Especially if someone else owns it, like in school or something. Is any part of your body hurting at the moment? Is there a specific incident that caused the pain? My legs always hurt. I've shared enough as to why; it wasn't an actual, singular "incident." What was the last thing to make you laugh out loud? OH MY FUCKING GOD. So in group therapy the other day, one of the girls had her bearded dragon out, and he was being aggressive. I think he tried to bite her aND SHE SAID WITHOUT REALIZING HER MIC WAS ON, "fucking dickhead," and everyone d i e d. She's a really cool chick, I'll miss her when I'm finished with PHP. Who was the last person you heard sing? Myself, surprisingly enough. I barely ever sing. Do you bite your lips a lot? Yes, especially when they're dry. .-. What part of your body would you never get pierced? Anyone who gets a piercing "down there" has a greater pain tolerance than this bitch right here. Have you ever dated someone with tattoos? Juan had quite a few. I don't remember if Tyler did... but I think maybe a The Legend of Zelda-related one? Have you ever failed gym in school? No. Are you scared of dogs? No; I love dogs. What is the saddest movie you’ve ever seen? Man, idk, I'm a little bitch when it comes to emotional movies. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is high up there, as is of course Johnny Got His Gun. Old Yeller, too. Which one of your friends is most likely to be famous one day? Why? Sara's gonna write a fuckin book series ok you can't convince me otherwise. What is the worst present you have ever gotten? Damn dude, what an ungrateful question. I'm just appreciative someone even thought TO give me something. Do you shave your arms? My armpits, yes, but not my arms themselves. How many people have you dated? I only count three as even remotely serious: Jason, Sara, and Girt. Have you ever performed in a play? I remember back in Sunday school as a tiny kid I played Mother Mary in one we did in class. Do you chew gum? I have been more lately since my doc upped the dosage of one of my mood stabilizers (which I think is actually helping); I mention that because apparently a side effect is dry mouth, and it's the fucking Sahara in there. He advises those who deal with it to always carry around hard candy or something like that for the sake of forcing salivation, so gum works for me. How old were you when you first started dating? I was in the 7th grade when I had my first "boyfriend," but it was total puppydog love. I started dating my first "real" bf when I was just shy of 16. Are/were your parents strict? Dad, no. Mom, only to a degree that I feel was pretty reasonable. She only ever wanted to prepare us to be functional, independent adults. Didn't work so well on me though, ha... Do you wear glasses? Yes. God, I need new ones. I'm blind as hell. What do you miss most about your childhood? Being so outgoing and happy to just be weird lil me. Do you write “To-Do” lists? Not really, no, but I do have notes on my phone about a couple things, like a bulleted list of planned monetary investments by importance, as well as a list of drawing ideas. Do you have a favorite quote? What is it? I don't, really. There's loads I like, but no one favorite. Could you survive as a vegetarian? I pretty desperately want to, but I don't know if it's realistic. I am so, SO picky, and without meat, it's very questionable as to where I'd get an adequate source of protein. I still want to try again though once I'm at my goal weight. Has anyone ever asked you for your autograph? Lol no. Has someone of the opposite sex ever told you that you were sexy? Yeah, but that was a looong time ago when I was actually some semblance of pretty. Do you prefer to take your showers at night or in the morning? I used to be someone who firmly stood by nighttime showers, but now I'm all about them in the morning. It's a nice way to wake up and start the day with productivity. Could you handle living with a male roommate? I mean, I lived with my then-boyfriend once, but I'm going to assume you'd consider him more than a "roommate." We lived with our two other friends, though, also a couple, and I was totally fine with living with them. Has anyone taken their shirt off in front of you? Yes. Do you like Freddy Krueger? His concept is very scary, but all the movies I've seen bits of have always been super cheesy. Which do you prefer, Naruto or One Piece? I haven't seen either and really aren't interested. What do you think of Rob Zombie? I've never really watched his movies, but I'm a fan of his music. What’s you fetish? I don't have one. Have you ever been in the “friend zone?" Well, what I'd call a "fake" one with Jason after the breakup until I was blocked on Facebook. I know now he absolutely did not want to be friends; he was trying to appease me. Is the area you live in more liberal or conservative? Definitely conservative. Do you know anyone who had to have tubes put in their ears as a baby? Yeah, me. Were either of your parents baptized? I'm certain Mom was, but idk about Dad. I think so. The last concert that you were at, was there a mosh pit? No. What was the last computer game that you played? World of Warcraft. Does your bathroom have a theme to it? No. Are any rooms in your house themed? No. What was the last thing that you recorded? I think Mom and I singing "happy birthday" to my late dog Teddy; we knew it would be his last. Do you like the show Futurama? Not really. Have you ever been in a choir class? I was in the elementary school chorus, as well as the choir at my childhood church. Are you ashamed of any of your family members? No, only myself. Were you a chubby child? No. Did you ever have senior photos done? No, even though I wanted them. Who is the person you dislike the most? God, this is so petty... but it's the girl Jason dated after me. I know it's childish as hell to feel like she "took" him from me, and I just feel this horrible hatred towards her that is entirely uncalled for. I just can't get myself to move past it. Do you take part in paying the bills for your household? No, as I'm unemployed and also don't have disability, so I literally can't. How do you usually celebrate New Years? I really don't do much. Sometimes Mom will grab a pack of daiquiris, but that's pretty much the extent of it. Does the place you work have music playing? What sort? N/A What was the last job interview you went to? At a local grocery store to work in the deli. Got the job, lasted there for not even two hours. :^) Do you know anyone with autism, mood disorders or learning disabilities? Autism and mood disorders, yes. I myself may have high-functioning Asperger's (yes, I know that term doesn't technically exist anymore, it's just the umbrella term of "autism," but w/e). Have you ever had an immediate relative pass away of cancer? My grandmother died of pancreatic cancer, and it's pretty much guaranteed that, unless there's some sudden accident, my mom will die of cancer, too. Hers got too bad to entirely eliminate every trace of cancer cells, so it will inevitably re-emerge at some point, just obviously some place else given that she had a total hysterectomy. Would you rather work in an office, warehouse or on a retail shop floor? Office. Are you a fan of sweet, sour, salty, or savory snacks? I enjoy all of those, but sour I think tops the list.

[bee-kathony]

Blue Christmas | Jamie & Claire one shot 

a/n: Merry Christmas! I wrote this a few weeks ago, so I thought I’d finally post it. Comes in at a whopping 13,154 words so you’ll need to brew a cup of hot chocolate and settle in for this one! Now... this will probably be my last fic for awhile, possibly ever, we’ll see how I feel after everything has settled. I hope you enjoy and Merry Christmas! xx and thank you @julesbeauchamp for the moodboard! 

December 23rd, 2019

Oxford, England

The wine glass in her hand was becoming dangerously low. Dangerous, because without the warm liquid filling Claire’s belly, she’d remember just exactly why she was drinking alone.

Christmas was a time of celebration and joy. A time for families to come together, laugh and exchange presents. Everyone would gather around the fireplace and tell stories or watch a classic Christmas film.

Claire was celebrating in her own way two days before Christmas. Her divorce had been finalized this morning, which was a good thing, but not exactly something that would lift the spirits.

Her ex-husband, Frank Randall had been a kind man, emphasis on had. They’d been married a short five years, and during that time, Frank hadn’t been faithful — at all. When Claire found out about one woman, it led to another and another… and another. Frank seemed to have a string of women lined up all around the city. It made Claire feel like a fool for trusting him and believing that he truly loved her.

So, with her divorce final, Claire was celebrating Christmas alone for the first time in her life. The first several years of her life she barely remembered, and until she had married Frank, she had spent every Christmas with her aunt and uncle in London.

Uncle Lamb insisted she come and join them this year, but the thought of having to pretend she was okay was mind-numbing. Being around her family would be nice, but seeing all the cheer and jovial faces wasn’t something she could handle.

A quiet meow came from her left, and Claire looked over to see her cat Adso licking his feet. Well, she wasn’t quite alone, at least she had her cat.

“I’m becoming a crazy cat lady at the ripe age of twenty-seven,” Claire said wistfully, petting Adso on the head, making him purr gently. “Just you and me now.”

There wasn’t even a Christmas movie that Claire could watch because they usually all ended with two people falling in love, and love was not something Claire wanted to think about. It killed her to know that Frank was probably screwing some blonde university bimbo right now, while she sat alone in the dark, not a decoration in sight.

Thankfully, she had the next two weeks off to wallow in self-pity. Claire worked at the local library, where she was able to read to her heart’s content. Her best friend Geillis also worked with her, although she didn’t read all that much, which always made Claire laugh. Why take a position at a library if one didn’t like to read?

Gathering enough energy to get off the sofa, Claire set her now empty glass down in search of a new bottle. If she had to spend this Christmas alone, she certainly wouldn’t be spending it sober.

As Claire grabbed a new bottle, she passed by the fridge, which was still littered with the odd bits and pictures of her and Frank’s life. A yellow post-it note caught her attention. It read, “I’ll be out late, eat without me!”

She yanked it off, crumpling it into a small paper ball before tossing it in the trash can. “You bastard,” she said to the post-it and to Frank.

Sooner or later, she would need to get rid of all his things. The process had begun two months ago when she’d found out about his affairs. Claire had gathered up as many clothes of his that she could carry in her two arms and tossed them out the second-story window, much to Frank’s complaints.

Laughing at this memory, Claire grabbed a packet of biscuits before plopping back down on the sofa.

“Another glass for the woman who’s destined to be alone,” Claire said to herself, watching the dark liquid fill her cup.

Just as she picked it up, a loud knock came from the door, making her spill it all over her pajama pants. “Shit!” Claire stood up quickly, checking to see if any had got on her couch, and thankfully (or not so thankfully) it had all landed on her.

Another knock came from the door, “Open up!”

“Geillis?” Claire raced to the door, patting at her pants. “What on earth are you doing here?”

Her friend held up a bottle of wine and a box of pizza. “Solidarity? I wasn’t going to let you spend tonight alone. I canna be wi’ ye on Christmas, so I thought tonight would suffice.”

“Get in here,” Claire grinned, hugging her friend as she passed. “I should make you buy me a new pair of pajama bottoms! Spilled half my glass of wine all over them when you knocked.”

Geillis looked her over, wincing as she saw the dark red stain. “Och, Christ, Claire. I’m verra sorry about that.”

“You should be,” Claire crossed her arms as she leaned on the counter, the smell of the pizza making her mouth water. “But you brought sustenance so all is forgiven!”

“Go make yourself at home, I’ll just go change out of these,” Claire rolled her eyes, laughing as she went to her room. It should’ve been hard to be in the bedroom that Frank and she had shared, but he was barely home towards the end. The reason for that was clear now. They had moved into this house only two years ago after Frank accepted the teaching position at Oxford. Most of the memories Claire had made here, had been on her own.

Returning with a freshly washed pair of fuzzy bottoms, Claire sat down next to Geillis who was already on her second slice.

“So ye really didna decorate for Christmas, huh?”

It was true. The room was dark with the lack of twinkling lights and not a bauble in sight. “I didn’t feel like decorating just for myself. Not this year at least.”

“I get it,” Geillis nodded. “But I wish ye wouldn’t spend the whole holidays wallowing in self-pity. Ye should put on a fancy dress and go get yerself laid,” she winked. “Now, that will lift yer spirits, ye ken?”

“I ken,” Claire smirked. “But I don’t think anyone would want to get with this sorry lump of coal.”

“Excuse me?” Geillis nearly spit out her wine. “If yer a lump of coal, then what am I?!”

“Oh, you’re gold darling, absolute gold,” Claire laughed. “I appreciate the encouragement, but I’d rather not wake up in a strange bed with a strange man.”

“But that’s often the best kind,” Geillis nudged her in the side. “Well, if ye willna go get laid, please dinna stay here in this miserable depressing house. Go see yer uncle or go take a trip somewhere. Ye’ve earned it, Beauchamp.”

That hit her like a gut punch. Beauchamp. Her maiden name. “Guess I’ll have to get used to saying that again. A trip you say?” She sipped her wine. “But it’s two days before Christmas, where on earth could I go that would have availability?”

“Try Scotland, my homeland,” Geillis grinned and ran her finger gently down Adso’s back. “Tis just a quick hop on a plane, gets ye out of England at least.”

“I’ve never been to Scotland,” Claire said. “Do I just find a bed and breakfast in some quaint village?”

“Aye,” Geillis nodded and then whipped out her phone. “Or ye can search for a cute holiday spot in Scotland. Let’s say the highlands somewhere.”

As Claire let Geillis search for a place for her to go, she looked around at her house. While she could wallow, the idea of sitting in the dark wasn’t exactly appealing. She had the next two weeks off, and she might as well try and enjoy herself a bit. After all, she should be celebrating the fact that she’s no longer married to Frank who took every opportunity to cheat on her.

“How long do ye want to stay?” Geillis asked.

“Umm, I don’t know. Maybe four days? Five? I’ll have to find somewhere for Adso to stay,” Claire smiled as her cat purred beneath her hand.

“Oh, I’ll watch the wee cheetie,” Geillis mumbled. “So, in the highlands… with availability.”

“Oh and make sure it’s not some romantic getaway destination,” Claire added.

“Lassie,” Geillis laughed. “It’s Scotland. The whole damn country is a romantic destination! But dinna fash, I’ll find ye a good spot.”

“While you do that, I’m going to turn on the fireplace,” Claire said as she stood up. She flicked a switch that turned on the gas and immediate heat came to life. Claire stood in front of the fireplace, trying to get warm.

There was something rather exciting about traveling to a country she’d never been before. Claire fancied herself as a bit of a gypsy — her home was wherever she was. And Scotland was a place she’d always wanted to visit, it seemed like now was as good a time as any.

“Oh, I think I found it,” Geillis stood up from the sofa to show her the phone. “Tis called Fraser’s Ridge. A collection of cabins of all sizes up in the Highlands.”

“Fraser’s Ridge,” Claire repeated and began to flick through the pictures. The cabins looked very cozy and inviting. “They have availability?”

“That’s what their website says,” Geillis said. “Want me to book it? It’ll be my Christmas present to ye… since I may have forgotten to buy ye a gift,” she winced.

“You don’t have to do that, Geillis!”

“I do! Ye need to take time for yerself,” Geillis slid her arm around Claire’s waist, squeezing tight. “Ye’ve had a rough year, and now ye can go up to a cute wee cabin and relax.”

Claire looked through the pictures again, noting how charming they looked. “It says here that each cabin was hand-built by the owner and his father.”

“Oooh, the crafty type,” Geillis winked. “Ye should make sure ye get a good look at the owner then. If he’s good wi’ his hands…” she made a lewd hand motion.

“Geillis Duncan!” Claire laughed, nudging her friend in the ribs. “There will be nothing of the sort. I bet he’s in his 60’s, overweight and balding.”

“Are ye picky then?”

Claire shot her friend a look, then laughed and moved back to the sofa. “Fine, if you want to book it, then go for it. It’ll be better than me and Adso rotting away like Miss Havisham while I sit in my wedding dress.”

“Ye should give that away or somethin’,” Geillis said as she typed Claire’s details into her phone to book the holiday. “I mean, I ken it’s full of memories and such, but surely those have all been tainted.”

“I guess you’re right,” Claire sighed, leaning her head back on the sofa. “I could give it to charity. Or you. Would you like a used wedding dress, Geillis?”

“Not a chance,” Geillis smirked. “Okay, I’ve put yer name as Claire Beauchamp. It’s five days, and you leave tomorrow.”

“Christmas Eve,” Claire ran her hand through her curls. “Guess I’d better pack!”

“Will ye promise me ye’ll bring somethin’ sexy to wear? Just in case the owner turns out to be a mysterious highland hunk?”

“God, you’re insufferable,” Claire chuckled and tossed a pillow at her friend who narrowly dodged it. “For you, I’ll pack it, but it will get no use.”

“We’ll see,” Geillis smirked, forwarding Claire the confirmation email.

++++++

After Geillis went home that night, Claire went into her closet and packed a travel bag full of everything she thought she’d need. The owner said he would have a car come and pick her up at the airport, and then to get some groceries if she needed them. Besides that, she wouldn’t even need to leave the cabin. Cozy sweaters and loungewear were all that she intended to wear, but she did pack a sexy silky pajama set she had yet to wear just so when Geillis asked her about it later, she could say she brought it.

She felt nuts to be boarding a plane on Christmas Eve, but she wasn’t alone. The airport was packed with other holiday travelers flying all over the world. Claire loved to people watch — coming up with stories for people.

There was a little girl Claire had been watching for the last several minutes while she waited for the plane to take off. She sat two rows in front of Claire and kept popping her head over the seat to look back at her.

“Hi,” Claire waved. The little girl ducked back down with a shy smile before popping her head up again. This pattern went on several times before the girl’s mother told her to sit still.

The flight was a short one, but Claire always got motion sickness on flights or in cars and so she took a Dramamine to help ease the nausea she was already feeling. She was also slightly nervous to be going to a place she’d never been on her own. Every vacation in the past had been with Frank, so now she was venturing out, and so far things were going well.

Nearly two hours later, Claire woke up to the sound of the pilot telling them that they would be landing shortly. Her head felt foggy, and she stretched in her seat the best she could.

“Couldn’t have sprung for first-class, Geillis?” Claire chuckled to herself.

She only had a carry-on duffel and a large purse that held her laptop and a few books for the trip.

The email said that one of their employees would be picking her up and would have her name on a sign. So it wasn’t a surprise whenever she walked out of the gate to find a tall bearded man, holding a sign that read, “C. Beauchamp.”

“Hi,” Claire smiled at the man. “Are you from Fraser’s Ridge?”

“Aye,” he nodded. “I’m Murtagh FitzGibbons. I take it ye are C. Beauchamp?”

“That’s me. I don’t have to wait for a bag so I’m ready when you are,” Claire said.

The man made a Scottish sound in the back of his throat and then took her duffel. A slight panic crept in as she followed this stranger out to the car. She was a woman traveling alone on one of the busiest holidays. This would be the time that she could be taken advantage of, perhaps taken to some remote place and murdered.

“Christ, Beauchamp,” she shook that murderous thought out of her head and told herself everything would be fine.

“Do ye need to stop at the grocer’s for any food for yer stay?” Murtagh asked as he started the car.

“Um, yes please, if there’s one on the way,” she replied.

“Aye, there is. The Ridge is about an hour away from here, so best get comfortable,” Murtagh smiled at her as he turned on her seat heater. Fraser’s Ridge did have five-star reviews, and so far, she knew why.

Murtagh drove her to the grocery store where she picked up snacks and food she could easily prepare. Wine of course, and a bottle of whisky… two bottles of whisky. The rest of the drive was silent, as Claire took in the beautiful Scottish landscape. The rolling green hills, covered in snow as they drove further north.

By the time they reached Fraser’s Ridge, the sun was beginning to go down, even though it was just the afternoon. The air was crisp and cold, making Claire shiver as she stepped out of the warm embrace of the heated car.

“The owner, Jamie, my godson, is out tonight and tomorrow to be wi’ his sister and her family. But, I’ll help ye check-in and then see ye safe to yer cabin. Jamie will probably stop by to welcome ye properly when he gets back,” Murtagh said as he picked up her bag again.

“You’re his godfather?” Claire asked. “Why aren’t you spending Christmas with them, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He grunted, “Och, well, I’m no’ much of a holiday man. And someone had to see to the place over the holidays. Jamie did it last year and I kent he wanted to spend time wi’ his sister, Jenny.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Claire smiled warmly. “I look forward to meeting this Jamie whenever he comes back. This place is absolutely beautiful.”

“Aye, lass,” Murtagh smiled as he walked up a trail towards a small building that must be their offices.

“There’s a wee book that tells ye a bit about the place,” Murtagh said as he wrote her name down. “It also has information about wifi, if that’s somethin’ yer interested in.” He opened a drawer and pulled out a gold key. “Cabin 2,” he handed it to her. “If ye’ll just follow me.”

They walked back outside, and it was beginning to snow lightly. On the way up here, Claire noticed that they really were in a remote part of the highlands. Although, it seemed most of the highlands was remote compared to the busy streets of Oxford or London.

“Are there other people here? Or is it just me being a complete and utter loser on Christmas?” Claire chuckled sadly.

“There are a few other folks,” Murtagh looked back at her. “A few families that like to spend the holidays up here. We have ten cabins in total, and this season only three are vacant.”

“Wow,” Claire was impressed. It was an ideal location, but most people stay at home with their family’s at Christmas time. “Well, it’s really lovely.”

Her cabin was just a short walk from the office, with its own trail that led to the door. Claire could tell that it was built with skill and precision. Everything looked so intentional and yet still had that rustic element that all cabins had. Murtagh walked up to the door, waiting for her to unlock it.

She turned the key, opening the door to a dark room. Murtagh flicked on the switch and Claire gasped.

“Pretty, ain’t it?” Murtagh smirked and then set her bag down. “Jamie insisted on decorating every cabin for Christmas. I told him ‘twas a bit much, but,” the man shrugged.

There were lights strung around the room, making it sparkle. A large tree stood in the corner, fully decorated, with cranberry and popcorn and every bauble to go with it. The fireplace had greenery on top, fit with knitted stockings. It wasn’t cheesy or tacky. Claire wasn’t trying to escape Christmas, just her depressing home she had shared with her ex-husband. This… this was perfect.

“Well, I’ll leave ye to it,” Murtagh said. “Our office number is listed in the book as well if ye need anythin’. Enjoy your stay, Miss Beauchamp.”

“Thank you,” Claire smiled as Murtagh shut the door, leaving her on her own. The first order of business was to get the fireplace going, and upon first inspection, it wasn’t a gas one like Claire’s.

There was wood already set up, as well as kindling and a box of matches on top of the mantle. “Here goes nothing,” Claire muttered as she struck the match. At first, nothing happened, but soon the kindling caught the flame and began to fan out to the logs.

“First try,” she clapped her hands together.

There was a small kitchen connected to the living room, stocked with all the appliances one could need. The master bedroom was spacious, with a cozy king-sized bed that Claire was very much looking forward to getting into later. A bathroom connected to the bedroom, with a shower and clawfoot tub.

“The pictures don’t do this place justice,” Claire sighed as she walked back into the living room which was warming up nicely. There was a ladder that led up to a small loft area with plush seating. A cute little reading nook for later.

Claire continued her curious look around as she opened up the back door. There was a fire pit outside, with logs set up around it for seating. She managed to get the inside fire lit but wasn’t counting on her skills with an outdoor pit.

Before she settled onto the comfy looking sofa, Claire took her bag into the room and unpacked it. Then she put her groceries away, grabbing a packet of crisps and a plaid before snuggling in for the night.

The remote was on the coffee table and when she turned it on, The Holiday was playing.

“I can’t turn this off, now can I?” She rolled her eyes but smiled as Jude Law’s character put on his glasses.

After the movie ended, and Claire had eaten her weight in crisps, she groggily made her way to the bedroom. Not bothering with pajamas, she flopped down onto the bed face first and within moments fell fast asleep.

++++++

On Christmas morning, Claire treated herself to a cup of coffee and store bought croissants. There were no presents under the tree to open, and no one would call. Maybe her uncle Lamb, but later once his own children had opened their gifts.

“Another day of movies and crisps,” Claire sighed as she took up the corner spot on the sofa.

Hours passed in that order. One movie would end, and another would begin. She had given up on trying to avoid cheesy Christmas movies, as that seemed to be the only thing playing on virtually every station.

Claire felt herself drifting off to sleep during Elf, but was startled when a loud knock came from the front door. “What the bloody hell,” she yawned and jumped off the sofa. Grabbing the plaid, she wrapped it around her body as she shuffled to the door.

A very tall, very large, red headed man stood on the front porch. He had an axe in one hand, and a bag in the other.

“Um, are you going to murder me?” Claire glanced at the axe.

The man followed her gaze and burst into a laugh. “Oh, Christ! It does look like that. No, God no. I came to see if ye needed any wood cut for the place.”

“Perhaps,” Claire said, eyeing the man. She had to admit that he was very attractive, and his accent had that deep burr of someone who had lived in the highlands all his life, the r’s rolling off his tongue.

“Yer probably wonderin’ who this strange man is on yer front steps,” the man said as he took off his gloves and stuck out his hand. “I’m Jamie Fraser. Of Fraser’s Ridge.”

“Ah,” Claire smiled and shook his hand. “That makes a lot of sense,” she laughed. “I’m Claire Beauchamp. I just got in last night. Your godfather, Murtagh, was it? He said that you wouldn’t be around today.”

Jamie put his gloves back on his large hands. “Well, I wasna supposed to be, but then my sister Jenny’s daughter Maggie got sick after the festivities and so I was freed. Thought I’d just come back to check on everyone and to wish them a Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Claire grinned. “I must say, this place is wonderful. Did you really build every one?”

“Aye,” Jamie’s cheeks blushed. “With my Da before he passed a few years back. We ran this place together. It was a way to show the beauty of Scotland, and remind everyone to take time for themselves. What brought ye here?”

“Oh,” Claire paused, not sure how much of her personal life to disclose to a near stranger. “Just needed a break from my life back in England.”

“I kent ye were a Sassenach,” Jamie smiled warmly.

“Sassenach?”

“English person,” he replied. “More or less.”

There was still snow falling, and Claire began to shiver in the doorway. “Would you like to come in Mr. Fraser? It’s bloody freezing out there!”

“Och,” he shook his head. “I’ll just go and chop the wood for ye and bring it back. I wouldna want to impose on ye.”

“It wouldn’t be an imposition,” Claire said, and realized that she really wouldn’t mind spending more time with this man. He had a kindness to him, one that instantly drew her to him.

“I willna be long,” Jamie turned to leave. “And call me Jamie please, Sassenach.”

She waited until he had fully gone to shut the door. He would be back.

Racing to her bedroom, she tossed the plaid on the bed and began to root around in the drawers for something more suitable to wear. Of bloody course she had only brought oversized sweaters and lounge wear. “Didn’t think you’d be meeting a handsome Scot, now would you? Didn’t listen to Geillis,” she mumbled.

Pulling out a green sweater, Claire thought it was the most presentable option and replaced it with the old t-shirt she had been wearing. She only felt a little foolish to be primping herself for his return. Licking her fingers, she tried to assemble the bird’s nest called her curly hair into order.

She was not certain how long it would take him to chop down fresh wood. An image of the man Jamie holding the axe in his hands, droplets of sweat on his brow as he struck down with force on the wood filled her mind. Claire let her eyes closed as she pictured how he would grunt with every strike, again and again. He was clearly well built, so his muscles would flex.

“Christ, Beauchamp,” she shook her head, looking back at herself in the mirror. “Would you get a bloody grip?!”

She knew she shouldn’t have changed her appearance for a man. There was nothing that would come of this, so why did she want to look good for him? After Frank, Claire thought it would take her a long time to be open to any kind of relationship, let alone whatever she was imagining with Fraser.

He said he was going to chop down wood for everyone that needed some, so it could take awhile. The sofa called to her, and Claire sat down, grabbing a book off the coffee table. Her ear was tuned to any slight sound outside, waiting for Jamie’s return.

It took several tries for Claire to focus on the pages before her. She must have read the same paragraph nearly ten times, as her mind was picturing running her fingers through Jamie’s red curls.

“My God woman,” Claire muttered, feeling herself growing flushed. “This is not a cheesy Christmas movie. You’re not going to get laid by the owner of the place who kindly brings you wood.”

If Geillis were here, she would tell Claire to be open and take risks. But Claire had exchanged a few words with the man, and while she assumed he didn’t have a wife or family of his own, there was no way of knowing he wasn’t promised to some other woman.

Soon, Claire’s attention was hooked by her book, and as the minutes turned into hours, she had nearly forgotten about Jamie coming back. One look out the window showed her that it was still snowing, nearly a blizzard too. It was also growing dark outside, and she knew enough to know that chopping wood in the dark was a recipe for disaster.

Her curiosity sparked, Claire rose from the sofa and went to find her boots. Her gut told her that she should at least check that he was okay, if she could even find him out there. Once her shoes were tied, Claire grabbed her coat off the hook near the door. The fresh cold air hit her face, making her gasp as it took her breath away.

The steps were icy as she descended slowly. Obviously, she should look in the woods behind the cabin first. What would she do if she couldn’t find him? Go to the offices, demanding to know where he was? She would look insane and probably desperate. However, he did say he would come back and it’d been nearly four hours.

As she turned the corner round the back of the house, a flash of red caught her eye and she made her way carefully over.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ!”

She wouldn’t have to venture out into the icy woods after all. Jamie was lying in the snow, clearly stuck and unconscious. His axe lay nearby as did a pile of wood. He didn’t have any signs of bleeding, so he must have slipped on the ice and passed out.

Claire bent next to his body, her fingers instantly checking for his pulse at his neck. His skin was chilled, but she felt a steady thrum under her fingers, echoing her own. Jamie’s lips were a light shade of blue — he must have been out for hours. And all this time, she sat warm and inside, none the wiser.

“Jamie,” she rubbed her hand over his cheek. He didn’t stir. There was snow covering his body and she began to wipe it off. If he didn’t wake, she wasn’t sure she could lift him into the cabin to warm him up. “Jamie, please wake up!”

Rubbing her hands together for warmth, she then placed them on his cheeks to warm them up. She had no idea what else to do save strip naked and put her body next to his. Things hadn’t gotten to that point she thought sadly.

“Jamie,” she said again loudly. “Mr. Fraser, you’ve got to wake up.”

Finally, she saw a twitch near his lip, and soon his eyes slowly opened, snowflakes falling down his cheeks. “Sassenach?” He said with a dry voice.

“Oh thank God,” Claire sighed, leaning her head briefly on his chest. “You must have slipped on ice and passed out. I think you’ve been out here for hours, and the snow has really picked up.”

“Have I?” He blinked rapidly. “Aye, I can barely feel my fingers so I must have.”

“Do you think you can stand?” Claire asked, “I might be able to help get you inside.”

“Let me try,” his mouth quirked up into a smile. It seems even freezing temperatures couldn’t dampen his spirit. Jamie sat up stiffly, flexing his gloved fingers out in front of him. Rising to her feet, Claire offered him both her hands to pull him up. It took all the strength she had to lift him up. And when she did, he nearly toppled them both over again.

“Okay, let’s try walking,” Claire wrapped one arm around his waist to steady him. They took slow steps and thankfully they were very close to the cabin. The steps took a little bit longer, but with the promise of warmth inside, Jamie managed to make it.

“Och, Christ, I’m freezin’,” Jamie shivered as Claire shut the door behind them.

“Come and sit by the fire,” Claire led him over. “I’ll get you a blanket.”

She walked quickly to her bedroom to grab the plaid she’d tossed there earlier. When she came back to the living room, Jamie was standing in nothing but his trousers. His chest was gleaming, with a tuft of auburn curls, and Claire froze in her tracks as she stared at him.

“Um,” she said, her eyes greedily taking him in.

“I need to get out of these cold wet clothes,” Jamie blushed, bringing color back to his cheeks. “I’m sorry to appear so indecent before ye, but…”

She waved him away and moved closer, holding out the blanket. “No, it’s fine. You’re right, anyways. You can’t be sitting in those clothes.”

Jamie held the blanket in his hands gingerly, staring back at her. “Would ye perhaps look away for a bit just so I can get my trousers off? I swear I willna flash ye or anythin’,” he chuckled.”

“Oh, that’s fine!” Claire blurted, wondering if she meant it would be fine if he flashed her. Feeling heat creep up her chest, she turned and walked to the kitchen to heat up a cup of tea for him.

Jamie’s clothes made up a wet pile near the door, and he now sat by the fire, presumably naked.

“I’ll hang these up in the bathroom so they can dry out a bit,” Claire set his cup of steaming tea before him.

She now had a nearly naked Scotsman in her living room, clothed in a plaid with no dry clothes. What had she gotten herself into?

As Claire returned to him, she was pleased to see that his color was already returning, his skin no longer showing a startling sign of blue. “You really scared me out there,” she said as she sat down across from him on the carpeted floor.

“Who knows what would have become of me had ye not found me,” Jamie sipped the tea. “Were ye comin’ to find me or was there another reason ye were out in the blizzard?”

“I was worried,” Claire admitted freely. “It’d been nearly four hours and you hadn’t returned.”

“Tracking the time, eh?” He teased her, clearly loving to watch her squirm. “I’m glad ye did.”

“I suppose I’ll have to go back later and fetch the wood,” Claire pointed back outside. “I don’t want you to go outside until you’re fully warm and your lips are no longer blue!”

“Are they?” He touched them with his fingertips. “Christ, my balls are blue too,” he laughed.

Claire couldn’t help but laugh, and tried her hardest not to let her eyes wander down to that part of his anatomy. She had heard that old joke about how Scotsmen don’t wear anything under their kilts and she wondered…

“What’s yer story, Claire Beauchamp,” Jamie said a moment later, startling her out of her thoughts.

“My story?” Claire grabbed another plaid from the chair nearby, wrapping it around her shoulders. “I’m quite plain really, there isn’t much to say.”

“Och,” Jamie scoffed. “I dinna believe that. A beautiful English woman such as yerself is far from plain, and besides, everyone has got a story.”

“Then what’s your story, Jamie Fraser,” Claire asked, feeling completely at ease.

“Agh, that’s not fair! I asked ye first,” he laughed.

“I’ll tell you once you tell me yours,” she nudged his bare foot with her fuzzy sock clad one.

Jamie eyed her suspiciously, and Claire noticed for the first time how strikingly blue his eyes were. A stark contrast to her own dark amber ones. Everything about his was a stark contrast to her — his flaming red hair to her dull brown, his tanned skin to her pale, and his largeness to her smaller frame.

He set the cup of tea on the coffee table, careful not to let the plaid slip. “Well, ye ken about how I built this place wi’ my Da. I mentioned he passed a few years ago, and my Mam passed a few years before him.”

“I’m so sorry, Jamie,” Claire said.

“Tis hard sometimes,” he shrugged, giving her a warm smile. “Not always, as most days ye think of them randomly and wi’ a happy memory. Holidays are hard, especially this time of year for me.”

He began to tell her about his life. How he had lived in Scotland all his life, but gone to university in Paris, and earned his degree in business. He had one older sister, Jenny, who was married to his childhood best friend Ian and they had three children. As Jamie talked about his family and his childhood home, Lallybroch, Claire could picture it in her mind. His knack for telling stories was unmatched, and she figured that would be the Scottish-ness of him. Geillis was quite good at telling stories of her own.

“I’m a simple man, who only needs a few things,” Jamie continued. “I remember when we first found this land. I’ve always thought that I needed a mountain to live on, a space to call my own and this is it.”

“You live here on the property then?”

“Aye, just a five-minute drive down the road though,” he nodded, pulling the plaid tight around him. “My Da and I built that first to see if we could even build anythin’,” he laughed.

“But it was somethin’ special once we finally finished it. The first night there was everything I thought and more,” he said dreamily. “There’s somethin’ about building yer own house wi’ yer own two hands. It makes ye appreciate the walls around ye that keep ye warm and safe.”

“It’s amazing what you’ve created here, Jamie,” Claire reached out and placed her hand on his. “I’m sure if your father were here, he’d be proud of all the success.”

“I’d like to think so,” Jamie moved his fingers over hers, squeezing lightly. “Ye said that ye were plain,” he sniffed. “I feel my story is quite plain and boring.”

“It’s not,” Claire shook her head slowly. “It’s yours and that’s what matters.”

He cocked a brow at her, and she rolled her eyes playfully. “Alright, I get it. My story is important too. Although once I tell it to you, you’ll find it’s rather depressing.”

“Well, spit it out, Sassenach,” he rubbed his thumb over her fingers, still clinging on. “Dinna leave me in suspense.”

Claire took a deep breath, deciding that she would be truthful with him — after all, he had told her all about his life, it was the least she could do.

“For starters, I should tell you the real reason I’m here… alone, on Christmas,” Claire began. “I just recently got divorced, and quite frankly, I didn’t want to spend another second in my house that wasn’t decorated and that reminded me of my ex.”

“Who was daft enough to let a lass like ye go?” Jamie smirked, not making her feel pitiful like she usually did when she told people.

“Frank Randall,” Claire groaned. “That’s who. He cheated on me with nearly half the population of Oxford. I was the fool who found out five years into our marriage. I really thought he loved me, and that he was different, but I guess all men are the same deep down.”

Jamie cleared his throat at this, causing her to look up.

“Perhaps not all men,” she corrected. “But the Frank’s of the world are all cut of the same cloth. It’s a relief to not be married to him anymore, but I never thought I would be a divorced woman at the age of twenty-seven.”

“Frank Randall is an idiot,” Jamie said sternly. “He had a wonderful wife, and he clearly didna pay any attention to her. A wife is someone that should be cherished, kissed every day and respected.”

“Are you married?” Claire gulped as she asked. She had seen no ring on his finger, even now as he gripped her hand.

“No, no I havena been so lucky,” he smiled sadly. “But I watched how my parents were. I saw the love between them, the partnership they shared, and I ken that one day I want to have a love like theirs.”

Claire could see that he loved his parents very much, and was sad for him that he had lost them both. “I lost my parents when I was about five,” she said. “I don’t remember what their marriage was like, but my uncle whom I lived with told me they loved each other deeply.”

“There’s hope for ye yet, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned. “Ye’ll find a man who will treat ye as ye  deserve, I ken it.”

With stories exchanged, a hush fell upon the room. Claire’s hand was still held between Jamie’s fingers, and she had no intention of letting go. She looked out the window to see that the snow was still falling, adding to the already high pile of fluff.

“It looks like you may be here for the night,” Claire said and he followed her gaze to the window. “The roads are probably covered with the stuff, and you’re still shivering.”

Jamie’s teeth chattered, proving her right. “You should take the bedroom, you’ll be much warmer in a cozy bed than on the sofa. I don’t want to be held responsible for the owner of Fraser’s Ridge losing all his toes!”

“Nah, Claire,” he shook his head. “I canna take yer room. Ye paid for it, and I wouldna feel right puttin’ ye out. I’ll sleep by the fire if I must.”

“No,” Claire stood up and held out her hand to him. “You were passed out in the snow for hours, Jamie! You’re obviously still cold, and there’s a small fireplace in their too. You would know after all.”

He seemed to be weighing his options. While the sofa was comfortable, it was nothing compared to a pocket of warmth one found in a big bed. Jamie was a large man, and Claire bet that his feet would hang off the sofa.

“If you feel so guilty, then you can comp me the night for putting me out of the room,” Claire smirked, her hand still stretched out for him to take.

With a deep grunt, Jamie took her hand and stood up, keeping the plaid wrapped tightly over his body. Claire wanted to slip her hands inside to touch him but pulled her hand away as soon as he was stable.

“There’s also a hot water bottle under the bathroom sink,” Jamie sniffed. “Would ye mind fixin’ it up for me? It seems I still canna feel the tips of my wee fingers,” he wiggled them in front of her.

“Of course,” Claire grinned. “And I’ll bring you another cup of tea once you’re settled. Who knew I would be tucking a very large scot into bed on Christmas night?!”

“Certainly no’ me,” Jamie chuckled. He turned then to go to the bedroom, leaving Claire alone to fix up a fresh cuppa.

There was no way she could fall asleep tonight knowing that he was sleeping in her bed. As she waited for the water to boil, her thoughts turned to his long limbs under the sheets — his freckled arms reaching out to pull her close while she curled into his chest. Claire had never particularly been one for physical touch, but even now, her fingers missed his touch, and it was as if her body was longing to be next to his.

Claire went into the bedroom quietly, seeing that Jamie was already in bed, his eyes closed, but she knew he wasn’t asleep. She found the hot water bottle exactly where he said it’d be, and returned to the kitchen to fill it with the hot water. With that in hand, as well as the cup of tea, she went to him.

“Delivery from Santa’s elf,” Claire whispered, and his eyes popped open, a grin on his lips. “This ought to warm you up.”

Jamie took the tea from her, his hands curling around the cup. The covers were tucked under the bed and Claire pulled them up to tuck the hot water bottle at his feet, making sure it didn’t burn him. She had to admit that it looked awfully cozy in there, and she wanted to hop in next to him.

“Ye ken tis no’ that late,” Jamie said as he sipped. “There’s a TV in here as well, we could put on a Christmas movie?”

“You mean… get into the bed with you?”

He blinked, owl-like up at her. “Aye, yer no’ goin’ to sit on the floor while I have the whole bed to myself, Sassenach,” he gave a loud pat to the spot next to him. “We’re hardly strangers, since ye saved my life, ye ken.”

She probably should have hesitated far longer than she did, but with a shrug, Claire walked around to the other side and climbed in, still quite far away from him as it was a rather large bed. The remote was on her side, and she pressed the power button, bringing It’s a Wonderful Life to the screen.

“Och, this is one of my favorites,” Jamie grinned and wiggled deeper under the covers. Claire laughed at that, and he glanced over at her with a matching smirk. “I love the old black and white ones, don’t ye?”

“Oh yes,” Claire sighed happily, and pulled up the covers. “There’s something so nostalgic about them.”

Geillis would be happy to know that Claire did, in fact, have a man in her bed. It wasn’t exactly what she had in mind, but Geillis didn’t need to know all the details.

The two of them laughed at the funny parts, and were silent as George Bailey went along with Clarence the angel. The heat from the fireplace was comforting, and the bed was soft beneath her tired body. Claire’s eyes were fluttering shut, and while her brain knew she shouldn’t fall asleep next to him, the rest of her body didn’t seem to respond. Sleep washed over her, and she heard the distant ringing of bells as she fell into a deep sleep.

When she woke a little while later, she was surprised to find it was still dark outside. She must have drifted off for only a few hours. Claire was also surprised to feel a heavy weight — Jamie’s arm — wrapped around her stomach. As Claire’s senses came back to her, she realized that her body was curved with his, and his face was nuzzled into her neck.

There was no way she could get out of his embrace without waking him, and she knew he needed to sleep. No wonder she’d woken up, his body was radiating heat now and she was now covered in a thin layer of sweat. His breathing was deep and heavy, his arm tight around her, so she went limp and tried to relax herself into going back to sleep.

But her senses were on high alert now. Her imagination running wild as she felt with her mind his body against hers. With her knees bent, he had his legs pressed against hers. They were spooning. She was the little spoon of course. It was such an intimate position to be in with someone she’d only just met that day. Although, Claire had never slept like this with Frank. He was always on the other side of the bed, with only a kiss on the cheek before he fell fast asleep.

Perhaps, Claire had been craving someone’s touch all her life, and had never found it. Jamie lightly snored and the vibration ran throughout her body. Shifting to get more comfortable, Claire froze and gasped.

Her bottom was pressed snugly against his crotch, and there was no mistaking the hardness she now felt. Claire couldn’t suppress the laughter nor the arousal she felt. Any warm-blooded male would surely get turned on with a woman’s arse wedged between his thighs.

If it was anyone but Jamie, she would have been disgusted and jumped out of the bed. But she felt safe here in his arms, and the idea that she could turn him on even while he slept was erotic.

With that part of his anatomy reminding her just what she wanted to do to him, she gave up on sleep, and simply enjoyed being in his arms, as this would most likely not be a repeat occurrence.

“Sassenach,” he mumbled sleepily, startling her. Her body was now tight as a bowstring, waiting for him to realize what position they were in.

“Oh,” his arm around her stomach slipped away, allowing her to turn and face him.

“You know what they say about body heat,” she grinned, her face barely visible in the dim glow of the dying fire. “It’s the best way to get warm. Don’t worry about it, Jamie.”

“I dinna want ye to think I was takin’ advantage of ye,” he rubbed his hand over his eyes to better see her. “I must have drifted over to ye in my sleep w’out knowin’ it.”

“Jamie,” Claire laughed softly. “We’re still on your side of the bed. If anyone drifted, it was me.”

“I do feel much warmer now,” Jamie observed as he stretched his legs. “I can go out to the sofa now so ye can sleep.”

He made to move, flipping the covers back, and without thinking, Claire grabbed his arm to pull him back.

“I want you to stay,” she whispered, as her heart hammered in her chest.

Answering her plea, Jamie fell back into the bed and turned on his side to face her. He moved his hand to settle on her waist, waiting to see if it was okay. With a slight nod from her, Jamie pulled her closer until she fit against his chest. She looked up at him, meeting his blue eyes only inches from hers. There was no going back now.

“I dinna have any mistletoe,” Jamie said softly, his arms cradling her body.

“What?” Claire laughed, not expecting him to say that.

“Mistletoe,” he said again. “The wee green stuff ye hang over yer head at Christmas so ye can kiss someone.”

Claire buried her head against his chest, laughing. “I think we can manage without the mistletoe, don’t you think?”

“Aye,” one hand came to brush back the curls from her face. Their bodies were pressed so close that kissing didn’t even seem like an intimate idea.

They found each other in the dark. Jamie cupped her cheek reverently as he pressed his lips to hers. His jaw and neck were covered with scruff that itched pleasantly against her skin, and Claire wanted to purr like a kitten as he kissed her deeper.

Guiding her hands into his curly locks, she held on tight as she parted his lips with her tongue. The heat seeped from his body to hers, but a shiver went over her body as his hand snaked down to grip her arse, squeezing lightly.

“Mmmm,” she moaned, pressing her hips against his.

Claire was not entirely certain this wasn’t just a dream, and that she would wake up alone in bed. But for the moment, Jamie felt very real and his flesh under her hands seemed to yield to her touch.

They broke apart, only so that they could push the covers out of the way before coming back together. Jamie pulled Claire on top of him, his hands finding her hips and anchoring her against him. Sadly, she found out that he had not been naked the entire evening as her fingers skimmed the edge of his boxer briefs.

Her hips moved seductively, rolling against his groin. He was hard again, and with every snap of her hips a small sound left Jamie’s throat. His hands moved from her hips to her arse to push her closer. The kiss was so deep that she could hardly breathe.

“God, Sassenach,” Jamie sighed. “I’ve never wanted anyone so badly in all my life!”

Claire peppered kisses over his neck and chest, not wanting to part with the low lusty sounds he was making.

“Jesus, lass,” he muttered between breaths as he realized what she was doing. Claire shimmied down his body, leaving a trail of kisses in her wake. “Ye dinna have to…”

Looking up at him through long thick lashes, she smirked. “I appreciate the choice, but I’m willing, that is if you are?”

He cocked a brow at her, almost as a challenge. “As long as I can return the favor,” he said smugly.

Heat flashed over her body as he stared at her. She had to tear her gaze away from him to settle to the task before her. His body was sculpted to perfection. She ran her fingers over the grooves of his abs, swirling around the wiry hairs at his belly button. His breath hitched as her hands rested on the tops of his boxers.

Claire held his gaze as she pulled them slowly down his legs. His cock sprang free as the material was removed. Her belly quivered at the sight of his impressive thick length jutting upwards towards his stomach. Reflexively, Jamie’s legs widened and she slid down further to fit herself between them.

“Sassenach,” Jamie said with a hoarse voice. “I dinna feel that ‘tis fair that I’m the one naked and yer still covered up.”

“Oh,” Claire glanced down at herself. “I didn’t even realize.” She reached for the hem of her sweater, but two hands stopped her. Jamie pulled her to straddle him again. Now his hands crept up her sweater, his skin warm on her flesh. His fingers tickled her stomach before finally pulling up the material and tossing it over the side. She saw his tongue snake out and wet his lips as he looked at her breasts, covered only now by her black bra. With his skilled fingers, he unhooked it in seconds, tossing it to join the pile of growing clothes.

“May I?” His hands drummed a tattoo against her hips as he held her body over his.

“Yes, please,” Claire blushed and threaded one hand through his hair, following his movements as he leaned down and took one of her pink nipples into his mouth. His pull was insistent, and he began to suck, his cheeks hollowing. Claire’s head fell back as he pressed her against his mouth, sucking harder. A deep cry left her throat as he flicked his tongue back and forth over the sensitive nub.

“Aye, that’s it, Sassenach,” Jamie kissed the underside of her breast. “Make those wee noises for me!”

His mouth moved to the other breast, repeating the same process. His tongue was warm and he swirled the tip around her nipple, and they puffed up, now engorged and swollen from his lips. Before she could move back down his body, Jamie’s hands found her tights and began to pull them off as well as her panties.

“I wish I could see ye in the light,” Jamie said quietly as she pulled the material off her foot, letting it fall to the floor.

“No you don’t,” Claire snorted unflatteringly. “This is enough light so you don’t see all my bumps and squiggles.”

“Bumps and squiggles,” Jamie laughed adorably and pressed his lips against her stomach. “Claire, yer so beautiful. I feel I dinna deserve to be here wi’ ye, holdin’ ye in my arms.”

“You’re one to talk,” Claire ran her finger lightly down the slope of his straight nose. “It’s like making love to a god.”

“Tcha!” Jamie rubbed his hands slowly up and down her sides. She began to rock her hips against him, feeling his length grow between her thighs.

“I’ve never felt like this, Jamie,” Claire admitted. “With anyone.”

He picked up her hand and entwined their fingers, bringing their joint hands to rest over his heart. “Neither have I, Sassenach. I think ye are my Christmas wish come true.”

At that, she shyly buried her head against his neck, her body still gently rocking against his, the friction building. Her arms wrapped around his neck, as his arms settled on her hips. Claire gasped as the tip of his cock brushed against her clit.

She felt his hand move between their bodies as he took hold of himself. Jamie pumped his cock once before sliding it along her wet center. Claire shivered, biting down gently on the padded flesh of his shoulder. He was teasing her entrance with his cock, and just the tip entered her and she clutched his hair tightly.

Her body was shaking with the need to sink down on him, and she pulled back to look into his eyes. One hand came to rest on her lower back, his other still between their bodies. From just the tip, she knew that he was huge, and would fill her completely. Her stomach tightened in anticipation, and she couldn’t help but roll her hips, hearing the sound of the wetness their bodies made.

“I must take ye, Claire,” Jamie said as his grip tightened on her. “I must or I’ll die!”

Claire felt the same, as her heart pounded fast and hard in her chest. She wanted to explode, and as she sank down on his cock, she thought she just might. Their moans mingled together in the air as he filled her.

“Christ,” he whispered. The hand that had been holding his cock found her hand and he gripped it tightly as she began to rock her hips. Claire had never felt so close to someone, not just physically but emotionally. No one had ever looked her in the eyes as they bared their soul with her. There was nothing left unsaid as they gave over to one another.

Claire kept up the slow and steady rhythm of her hips, and overcome with emotions, she pressed her face into his neck, feeling tears spring to her eyes. Jamie held her close, his other hand rubbing slowly up and down her back. He thrust upwards, hitting a spot so deep inside of her, that Claire didn’t know such pleasure existed.

“Oh God,” she panted.

“Oh Claire,” Jamie breathed heavily.

She was close, and she began to grind down faster and harder, feeling his body begin to tremble. Quickly, she pulled back so that she could watch him fall apart. His length throbbed inside of her, and his mouth opened and closed, as the words failed to come out.

With a sharp snap of her hips, Claire felt her own orgasm coming, as she clenched around his cock. Jamie’s hands squeezed her hips, helping her ride him. His eyes flicked back and forth from her bouncing breasts to her face as she came.

Jamie cried out, “Claire!” before spilling inside of her, his body spasming. Tingles shot down her spine, and she held onto him for dear life. Carefully, Claire adjusted her position so she could wrap her legs around his waist and she clung to him, almost like a monkey.

His hands were soothing on her back, lightly stroking. He stayed rooted inside of her, reluctant to leave her body.

“I didn’t know it could be like that,” Claire said softly against his chest.

“I didna either,” Jamie echoed. “Perhaps it depends on who yer wi’.”

Claire chuckled, but sighed happily at this. Whatever it was between them… it wasn’t usual.

After time passed and they both were sated, Jamie shifted and then moved Claire to lay in his arms, her head comfortably against his chest as she looked up at him.

“When I first met ye, all those hours ago,” he snorted. “I felt a… a sort of draw to ye, Sassenach. Like I just had to be close to ye. To hear yer voice, touch yer skin. I thought I’d do anythin’ to be near to ye.”

“Really?” Claire ran her fingers lightly over his stubbled chin.

“Aye,” he smiled. “Twas the strangest thing. While I was out chopping the wood, I found myself thinking about ye, and I’d known ye all of five minutes!”

“I felt the same,” Claire smiled, pleased that she hadn’t been crazy. “I was waiting for you to come back with the wood. I even changed my clothes,” she laughed quietly. “When you didn’t come back, I grew impatient and that’s when I decided to look for you. I just knew I had to see you again.”

“I dinna wish my niece any ill tidings,” Jamie stroked her cheek. “But I’m verra glad that she got sick after lunch and I came back here. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than here wi’ ye in my arms. Ye see, Claire, and this may sound hasty, but I talk to you as I talk to my own soul," he said, turning her face to him. He reached down and cupped her cheek, fingers light on her temple.

"And, Sassenach," he whispered, "your face is my heart.”

Claire closed her eyes as he kissed her, feeling like something opened up inside of her at his words.

“I certainly didn’t expect this,” she said. “I thought I would never be able to recover after my divorce. That my heart was used and not able to be loved again. But, with you, Jamie… I feel things I’ve never felt. A closeness to you, as if I could tell you anything and nothing would surprise or scare you.”

He pressed their lips together once again. “I feel as if our souls have belonged to each other far longer than our bodies have.”

“I don’t think I can part from you, Jamie,” Claire said sleepily, yawning.

“Shhh,” Jamie kissed her forehead and slid further into bed, pulling the covers around her. “Sleep, a nighean donn. When ye wake, I’ll be here.”

“Mmmm,” Claire nuzzled against him, and fell asleep to him muttering something in a language she recognized as Gaelic.

++++++

When Claire opened her eyes, she did wake in his arms. The sun filled the room, and she wasn’t shocked to see that the snow still fell outside. The fire had gone out long ago, but Jamie’s body heat kept her warm. In her sleep, she had shifted to lie curled against his body, and she placed a soft kiss to his neck, rousing him.

“Good morning, sleepy head,” she kissed his jaw.

“Yer insatiable,” Jamie groaned, all while keeping his eyes shut. His hands were locked around her back, and they slid down to rest over her arse.

“The same could be said about you,” she poked him playfully in the chest.

Before the morning could unfold like the previous night, however, a loud gurgle came from Claire’s stomach, making Jamie’s eyes pop open.

“I guess all that activity made me hungry,” she nipped at his bottom lip.

Jamie laughed and then rolled her body on top of his. “First we shall eat, and then I plan to devour ye,” he nibbled on her ear lobe, making her squirm.

Another loud gurgle sounded in the room and this time from Jamie.

A cold breeze drifted across her naked body as Jamie pushed off the covers. She rolled off his body and stood up, grabbing the plaid to wrap around her. Jamie opted for his boxers, tugging them on as he yawned.

They ventured out into the kitchen, sitting on two stools. Claire placed a bowl in front of Jamie and poured cereal into it.

“Tell me when to stop,” Claire said as she poured the milk.

“That’s good,” he smiled. “Breakfast of champions.”

“If I knew I would have company, I’d have bought proper breakfast,” Claire said as she sat down at the counter next to him.

“I dinna think this will be our last breakfast together,” Jamie’s foot nudged hers, making her grin sheepishly.

“No, I dare say it won’t.”

They ate quickly, impatient to return to each other’s arms. Food was necessary to continue making love, but Claire was shoveling the cereal down her throat as fast as she could, with only one strange look from Jamie.

“Dinna choke, Sassenach,” Jamie laughed as Claire wiped the milk from her lips. “I canna make love to ye if yer dead.”

“Sorry,” she blushed.

Jamie pushed his bowl aside, and grabbed her hand. “Dinna apologize, ’tis charming for some reason. But now that yer belly is full, I can have my way wi’ ye!”

He stood up, spinning her on the stool until she faced him. Jamie’s arms wrapped around her stomach and he lifted her into the air, plaid and all. She landed over his shoulder, and her bum was given a nice firm pat, making her giggle.

“You better not drop me, Fraser!”

“Not a chance,” he chuckled, bouncing his knees as if he was dropping her. Claire shrieked, but laughed, letting her arms dangle over his back. She slid her hands over his arse, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Enough of that,” he smirked, walking into the bathroom where he set her on her feet. His hands reached for the plaid around her shoulders and pushed it off of her. Claire returned the favor by removing his boxers, enjoying the sight of his erect cock on her way back up to kiss him.

“Just what are we doing in here?” She hooked both arms around his neck.

“I’ve fed ye,” Jamie kissed her nose, “and now I need to wash ye.”

“Do I stink?” Claire blushed, self conscious as she put her arms down.

“No,” he shook his head. “But ever since I set eyes on that curly wig of yers, I’ve wanted to get my hands into it. If that doesna sound too weird,” he bit his bottom lip.

“Oh,” she said. The shower was certainly big enough for the two of them, and she moved out of his grasp to turn on the hot water, watching as the room began to steam up.

Claire grabbed his fingers, pulling him into the shower after her. They stood under the water, letting it drench them. Once her hair was wet, Jamie grabbed the shampoo and drizzled a fair amount into the palms of his hands, lathering until suds formed.

Spinning until she faced the shower wall, Claire sighed as his hands massaged her scalp. He had large strong fingers — fingers that had explored her body the night before. Fingers that made Claire moan as she imagined them inside of her.

“Feel good?”

“Hmmm?”

Jamie laughed, still rubbing the shampoo into her hair. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Feeling like she was floating, Claire allowed Jamie to move her under the water to rinse out the shampoo. He then pushed her back against the wall, his mouth landing on her neck. The water poured down his back, cascading down his skin.

Claire’s eyes sprang open from her dreamy state as she felt his lips nibble on her breast briefly before moving south.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” Claire muttered as she looked down to find Jamie on his knees looking up at her. His hands settled on her waist, making sure that she didn’t fall down on top of him.

“I told ye I would devour ye, Sassenach,” he growled before licking slowly up her center. Claire’s legs buckled, but his hands squeezed her hips. The tip of his tongue flicked out against her clit before two of his fingers spread her lips. His tongue darted inside of her, and Claire’s head fell back against the wall.

Her hands found his head, holding on tight to his hair as he began to bop his head. Like a kitten lapping at milk, Jamie began to lick and suck her folds.

“Oh God,” Claire sighed. Jamie lifted her right leg to rest over her shoulder and he adjusted the angle, now able to insert a finger inside of her. Her thighs involuntarily clenched around his head. Jamie chuckled against her skin, sending shivers over her body.

Glancing down, she could see that his cock was hard and throbbing. His other hand left her waist to take hold of himself, the thumb moving slowly up and down his cock. Watching his head move between her thighs as well as his hand pump himself made Claire’s orgasm come quickly, her body trembling under the water.

Jamie lapped up her juices, his mouth greedy for her taste. Peppering her thighs with kisses, he stood up, watching as she swayed slowly, her body still given over to pleasure.

“I could do that all day,” Jamie kissed her gently and she tasted herself on his lips.

“And I want you to,” Claire kissed him harder. “But not before I return the favor.”

Before he could say anything, she was already sliding down onto her knees. His cock was still hard, resting against his stomach. Finally able to see all of him in the light, Claire gasped. He was bloody huge and she was impressed that he managed to fit inside her so snugly the night before.

“Like what ye see, then?” He was watching her, grinning at her fascination with his member.

“I’m just trying to work out if you really are a god,” Claire said and kissed the tip of his cock, watching his thighs clench.

“Jesus,” Jamie grunted, placing one hand against the wall to steady himself. “Ye sure ken how to flatter a man.”

“You haven’t seen anything yet,” Claire smirked, running one finger down his cock. Her thumb rubbed slowly over the head, pulling back the foreskin. Moisture dripped down and she moved her lips around the tip, tasting him.

Jamie’s buttocks clenched, and moans left his lips as Claire took more of him in. Her fingers were skating lightly down the backs of his thighs. She enjoyed the shivers that ran down his body at her touch. With one hand she cupped his heavy balls, squeezing them firmly as her other hand pumped his cock.

Her tongue snaked out, flicking quickly over the head. Jamie’s eyes were shut, but they opened, dark blue and he watched her take him in her mouth. Her cheeks hollowed, and as he hit the back of her throat, she gagged, but was too eager to please him to stop. Claire bopped her head, moaning as his hand found her hair, not pushing or forcing her, but just moving with her motions.

She felt his balls draw up close to his body, and looked up, seeing how he was breathing quickly. Claire pulled him out of her mouth, now only sucking on the tip of his cock. His head bent down to watch her again, and as she flattened her tongue against his shaft, he came in long hard spasms. She milked him, her eyes focused on his face as he spilled into her hand and she licked the head clean.

Claire stood up, her body gliding along his. She placed her hands under the water, washing his seed off.

“I could do that all day,” she smirked, returning his sentiment from moments before.

“I guess if ye bed a vixen,” Jamie leaned his forehead against hers. “Ye have to expect to get bit.”

Claire laughed as he kissed her. They finished showering with wandering hands. They simply couldn’t get enough of each other.

Not bothering with clothes, Jamie and Claire dried off and stumbled towards the living room. Claire laid down near the fireplace as Jamie lit it. The twinkling lights shined above them. Jamie rolled against her as he laid next to her.

“How much longer is yer stay?” He asked, sighing contentedly against her neck, his breath warm.

“Three days,” Claire said, her fingers brushing through his curls at the nape of his neck.

“Hmm, three days. Would ye really leave before New Year’s Eve?” Jamie smirked.

“Only if I had a good reason not to leave,” Claire looked at him.

“Do ye?”

Did she? Jamie was certainly not someone she expected to fall for, but she had. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours since they met, but already her heart belonged to him. This Christmas would be one she would remember forever, always thinking back to the day she met the love of her life.

“Yes,” she kissed him. “I do. Is that a date?”

“Aye,” Jamie grinned. “I can show ye what a proper Hogmanay is like, Sassenach!”

“I thought this would be a blue Christmas, but the only thing that was blue was your frostbitten skin,” Claire laughed.

“And my balls,” he added, laughing.

“And those,” Claire snickered. “I’m glad you fell down in the snow.”

“So am I,” Jamie rolled his body on top of hers. “What were those lyrics again… I’ll have a blue Christmas without you. I’ll be so blue just thinkin’ about you…”

There on Fraser’s Ridge, two strangers met, and fell in love on Christmas Day. They laughed as they never had before, loved with a passion they didn’t know existed, and had a very very merry Christmas.

Five days later, after spending day and night in each other’s arms and getting to know everything there was to know about the other, Claire packed up her things and said goodbye to Fraser’s Ridge.

She wasn’t headed home just yet, however, as Jamie was eager to take her to his childhood home, Lallybroch, for a Hogmanay celebration.

“Is your sister going to be very shocked at my being there?” Claire asked as they drove. She’d called Geillis a couple of days ago to ask if she could keep watching Ados. Of course, Geillis had given her hundred questions to answer, but Claire told her she’d give her all the juicy details when she got back to Oxford in a few days.

“Probably,” Jamie chuckled, one hand on the steering wheel, the other on Claire’s thigh. “I havena brought a lass home, so she’ll want to interrogate me. The good thing,” he smiled over at her, “is that we’ll be arriving shortly before the rest of the guests do, so she willna have time to do that!”

“Ahhh,” Claire laughed. “All part of your master plan, I see. So that’s why we didn’t arrive there yesterday or the day before.”

Jamie squeezed her leg. “Tis no’ that I dinna want her to meet ye, but I still want to keep ye all to myself. Plus, I dinna want to subject ye to a million questions that she’ll ask ye. There’s no need to rush this.”

“My lad,” Claire sighed happily. “I think it’s a bit late for that.”

Jamie smiled in agreement, and they drove on. Lallybroch wasn’t too far away, and within the hour, they were pulling up to the large stone estate. Jamie was right, as there were other cars pulling up at the same time as them.

“This place is not at all what I imagined,” Claire said in awe as Jamie turned off the car.

“Tis quite charming,” Jamie smiled. “Lallybroch means lazy tower, ye ken? I suppose it does lean a bit.”

Claire tilted her head to the side, admiring the house. She left her bag in his car, they would come out later to get that to stay the night in Jamie’s old room. Sliding his fingers through hers, Jamie pulled her close and together they walked up to the house.

People were milling about inside, and the atmosphere was electric with the air of celebration. The room smelled of meats and pies and Claire’s stomach growled with the need to be filled.

“Jamie!” Came a loud voice from their left. A short, raven haired woman came running towards them and Jamie let go of Claire’s hand to embrace her. “Ye finally made it ye numptie.”

“Aye, sorry we’re late,” Jamie said, giving his sister a kiss on the cheek.

“We?” Jenny craned her neck to look behind Jamie at Claire. Her eyes went wide, and her brows shot up to her forehead. “Hello, there.”

“Janet,” Jamie eyed his sister as he wrapped an arm protectively around Claire’s waist. “This is Claire Beauchamp.”

Claire noted how he didn’t explain where or when they’d met, and she though it best to keep it that way for now. She offered Jenny her hand, and waited awkwardly before his sister wrapped her arms lovingly around Claire.

“I’ll yell at ye later for no’ tellin’ me ye were bringin’ a lass,” Jenny said to Jamie as she hugged Claire. “But I’m happy that ye did. ’Tis nice to meet ye Claire. Sadly I dinna have much time to talk wi’ ye, but we’ll have plenty of time for that tomorrow. Ye are stayin’ the night?” She directed this question at Jamie who nodded.

“Good,” Jenny squeezed Claire’s hand. “Ian is around here somewhere with the bairns. He’ll love to see ye.”

“Oh aye,” Jamie took Claire’s hand again, pulling her out of Jenny’s grasp. Jenny smirked at her brother before leaving them alone, off to fulfill her hostess duties.

“Well, that went better than expected,” Jamie sighed. “Ye must give a good first impression, Sassenach.”

“I’ve never been told I give a bad one,” Claire tapped his nose. “Now that that is out of the way, can we please get something to eat?”

“Aye,” Jamie grinned. “And to drink!”

They found the table of food easily, and filled their plates high with mountains of savories and sweets. While Claire carried their bounty, Jamie grabbed two full glasses of cider and they made their way outside into the chilly air to get away from the noise.

The sound of laughter and music could still be heard outside as they sat down on a wooden bench.

“This is lovely, Jamie,” Claire took a bite of a mince pie. “Thank you for bringing me.”

“I’m glad ye are enjoyin’ it,” Jamie grinned over his cup. “It’ll get rowdy as the night wages on. Swords dances and the like.”

“Sword dances?” Claire questioned.

“Aye,” gulped. “Ye place two swords crossed over the other, and ye dance atop them. Highlanders used to do these types of dances for celebration or before a battle to predict the outcome. It’s a tradition now.”

“Will you be partaking in these sword dances?”

Jamie’s cheeks turned bright red. “I do every year,” he took a bite of haggis. “But this year I’ll have ye to cheer me on.”

They kept eating until their stomachs were full, and while Claire wanted more of the delicious food, she felt ready to pop.

The music was drawing them back inside, but Claire took Jamie’s hand, rubbing her fingers lightly over his, not wanting to leave their peaceful cocoon.

“I didn’t expect to feel this way about someone I met only a week ago,” Claire said softly. “I came to Scotland to get away from my old life, and to make myself forget the pain.”

Jamie was silent, but his eyes were focused on her as she spoke.

“I came to escape my old life, but I found something new,” Claire grinned. “Something worth holding onto.”

One of his large hands came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing off a bit of snow on her skin. “Something worth holdin’ onto,” he repeated. “Yer worth getting frostbite for, Sassenach. Yer worth shiverin’ until I canna feel anythin’.”

Claire smiled, “I know that you live here, and I live back in England, but I hope this won’t be the end.”

“Nah,” he leaned in close, resting his forehead against hers. “’Tis no’ the end, Claire. I reckon… it’s just the beginning.”

Snow began to fall harder, forcing them to move inside. They danced hand in hand, sang loudly and rang in the new year with a kiss, sealing their fate forever.

[pandawritespoorly]

And: Chapter 2 - Without

Author’s Note: Thank you all so much for your patience again! I meant to have this up on Tuesday, but between school finally starting back up, and getting back into the habit of regular updates, it just didn't happen. I promise I wasn't disappearing again!

First | Last

Marinette sits up when she hears a notification from that app. She and Chat had found a messaging app that they could both use without revealing their identities, and had been using it to communicate without having to transform.

It was already hard enough to sneak away for attacks, they didn’t need to make it more complicated.

It’s just a quiet study hour in the library, and she’s alone, so she pulls out her phone.

 Cat Boy: hey bug

Cat Boy: weird question

Cat Boy: do you

Cat Boy: do u think that i weigh 2 much

 Little Lady: no!

Little Lady: not at all kitty

Little Lady: underneath all that armor and magic leather im pretty sure your waist is the same size as mine

Little Lady: if anything you dont weigh enough

Little Lady: im bringing snacks on patrol

Little Lady: this is non negotiable

Little Lady: text me ur favorites

Little Lady: but later. what brought this on

 Cat Boy: just civilian stuff

Cat Boy: i know i’m not overweight

Cat Boy: but seeing the numbers andstuff all the time it can kind of stick in ur head you know

Cat Boy: and then u start thinking about it

Cat Boy: and it sticks around longer

 Little Lady: and then it’s taken root

 Cat Boy: yeah

 Little Lady: then we have some weeding to do >:(

 Cat Boy: :)

Cat Boy: thanks bug

 Little Lady: not a problem

---

Little Lady: do i do enough

Little Lady: like

Little Lady: all of this

Little Lady: is it good enough

Little Lady: paris and the kwamis and the akumas and hakwmoth

Little Lady: shouln’t I have fixed all of this bu now

Little Lady: it’s what im here for

Little Lady: but theres sill so much wrong and i feel like im not enough right to cancel it all out

Little Lady: and i just

Little Lady: i feel so bad

Little Lady: but half the time i dont even kno what i fel bad about u kno

Little Lady: i jsut fell bad

Little Lady: abuto evryting

Little Lady: o goodenss it 3 am

Little Lady: sory

Little Lady: ignreo tihs

 Cat Boy: bug

Cat Boy: breathe

Cat Boy: five things you see

 Little Lady: pilwo phonoe tiki cieling um

Little Lady: blankt

 Cat Boy: four things you feel

 Little Lady: bed

Little Lady: pilow hair sheets

 Cat Boy: three things you hear

 Little Lady: cars wind and keyboadr clicks

 Cat Boy: two things you smell

 Little Lady: the candle i had burning and bread

 Cat Boy: bread?

 Little Lady: bakery nearby

 Cat Boy: oh okay

Cat Boy: one thing you taste

 Little Lady: cookies

 Cat Boy: there we go

 Little Lady: thank you

 Cat Boy: no problem

Cat Boy: do u want to talk

 Little Lady: later. maybe on patrol?

Little Lady: i’m tired. haven’t slept all weekend

 Cat Boy: …

Cat Boy: bug it’s MONDAY

Cat Boy: wait no

Cat Boy: TUESDAY

Cat Boy: go to bed

 Little Lady: goodnight kitty

 Cat Boy: gn littlebug

 Today 9:32 AM

 Little Lady: hey! im not that much shorter than you!

Little Lady: >:(((

--- 

“Are you sure, Lila?” Adrien asks, a frown creasing his face. “That doesn’t sound like something Marinette would do.”

“Well I-”

“My dude’s right,” Nino agrees, “That doesn’t sound like Nette at all.”

Adrien watches Marinette brighten quietly as the rest of the class comes to her defense. They all believe Lila still, yes, he’s not going to let the liar turn them on their Everyday Ladybug. Not on his watch.

After class, the dark haired girl approaches him. She gives him a soft hug, whispering a quiet ‘thank you’.

---

“Adrien,” Marinette calls.

The blond stops, turning. “Hey, Marinette. Did you need something?”

She shakes her head, giving a small smile, holding out a paper bag. “You were gone all morning for that photoshoot. I thought you might be hungry.”

Adrien freezes, staring at her in shock.

After a moment, she cringes, looking away. “B-but um, if you aren’t-”

He shakes his head, realizing his mistake. “No! No! Thank you so much! I just- You surprised me.” He gives her a grateful smile, trying to keep himself from crying. “I- that- I wasn’t expecting this. You’re wonderful, Marinette, really.”

She blushes violently as he takes the bag, digging into the pastries with a smile.

“I don’t usually remember lunch after shoots, so…”

She stares at him in horror. “That’s it,” she declares, “I’m bringing you lunch now. Everyday. No matter what.”

“How much? I’ll pay-”

“No, Adrien, we’re friends. You don’t need to pay me. Maman is always saying how she thinks you need to eat more anyways, so my parents would probably just give you free food if you so much as glanced in the window. I’m just making their dreams come true.”

He laughs, and she takes a moment to appreciate such a carefree look on the busy model’s face.

He’s happy.

That’s good.

---

Cat Boy: u okay bug

Cat Boy: u seemed upset today

 Little Lady: im fine

Little Lady: just

Little Lady: tired

Little Lady: i should probably go now class will start soon

 Cat Boy: okay

Cat Boy: if you say so

 Adrien tries not to let his worry for his partner show as he slips his phone into his pocket and makes his way to Bustier’s class.

The battle was easy - Ladybug didn’t even need her Lucky Charm - but Cataclysm had been a requirement for this particular fight, so he hadn’t had time afterwards to check in with his friend.

He’s never good at focusing when he’s worried.

Nino slings an arm around him as they meet up on their way to class.

“Hey dude, um, I hope you don’t mind sitting with Nette today. She’s pretty wiped out - Al’s said she said somethin’ about a big commission? I dunno’, but we figure the less high up she is, the better, so I’m takin’ her seat today so she can go ground level.”

“Oh that’s fine! Is she okay?”

Nino gestures at the girl as they enter. She’s slumped forward, making her already small form even smaller, and while her sketchbook is out, the page is blank, and her pencil isn’t anywhere to be seen. There’s a to-go cup of coffee in the corner of the desk, and her head rests on her hand, her eyes staring blankly forward, unresponsive.

Adrien winces. “Goodness.”

“Yeah…” Nino shakes his head, then heads towards the girl’s usual seat. “You take care of her, alright?”

Adrien nods, sliding into his usual seat. “Hey, Mari,” he greets softly.

She straightens, blinking a few times before turning to face him with a weak smile. “Hey.”

“You feeling alright?”

She doesn’t get a chance to respond before Ms. Bustier walks in and class starts.

The lesson feels slow. Between Marinette and Ladybug, Adrien has the urge to hug someone and tell them that they’re okay, and that they’re good.

Both girls, at this point. The look in Marinette’s eyes is the same as Ladybug’s when she’s overworking herself to avoid thinking about something. The nights when he sees her patrolling even though she isn’t scheduled and he has to transform to go talk her into resting. The fights where she throws herself at akumas less thoughtfully, more brash. The post-battle interviews where her answers are slightly delayed, her eyes endlessly tired.

So when class is finally over, Adrien puts a gentle hand on her shoulder to keep her from going. Once everyone has filed out, he gives a small, worried smile.

“Are you feeling okay, Marinette?”

“I’m fine.”

“Marinette.”

She hesitates, her eyes straying from his to stare at nothing in particular. “I’m fine, Adrien, really. I’m just… just tired.”

“The coffee probably isn’t helping,” he teases.

“The coffee is my lifeblood.” She smirks, then sighs. “But I’m more than just sleep-tired.”

“Oh.”

She stands, gathering her things. “But thank you. For asking. And for caring.”

“Not a problem.” He hands her her sketchbook. “You deserve it.”

She looks at the sketchbook, then at his smile, and gives a genuine one of her own. “Yeah. Yeah I do.”

---

Author’s Note: Next (and final) chapter will be up sometime next week! I'll try to post weekly one-shots until I have A Shy 'Sparrow' fully written, and then I'll put that on a regular schedule.

Thank you all so much! Have a lovely day and stay safe! 💞

First | Last

[missuna]

Get that neighbor O.U.T -  a spell

Tonight I’m performing a spell to get the downstairs neighbor out of my life. Be it by her moving, or suddenly feeling like she doesn’t need to speak about us or cause any trouble. 

Here is why I’m doing this : Since we moved in all she does is complain about our footsteps. Literally the day we moved in ( it was just my partner and I moving everything upstairs) she bitched and asked us to be quieter. We apologized and explained that it was just us two so if we let out a few cuss words we’re sorry. She seemed agreeable, but little did we know she just didn’t give a fuck. 

3 weeks later, we had an upsetting night with my cat. He refused to leave under the bed, and kept biting our feet when we tried to sleep. My partner being reasonably upset stomped on the ground forgetting where he was, and the next day we apologized to management and not the neighbor directly because well. After this incident this neighbor who had previously told me “I can’t get up those stairs” ran up the stairs to bang on our door and ring the doorbell for an hour straight. We understandably did not answer since we feared confrontation and knew that if she lied about getting up the stairs, she could lie more. 

Next we rescued a kitten, and I warned her that this may mean increased thumps in the middle of the night ( she had been consistently complaining at this point, to which I urged her it wasn’t us, it was our cat who was a little hefty, she refused to believe me despite management assuring her that it was just the cat having heard the thumps themselves.) and again told her to kindly ignore the thumps as these were the cats playing. We had no control over it. She only responded to this by giving notes telling us to quiet down, or telling us to “tread lightly” Especially to my overweight partner. Not okay.

Next, she began to harass anyone who would come to our door. Be it ups or delivery. If it was anytime of the day she would intercept them and ask what was being delivered. I have told her to stop and finally it took threatening legal measurements before she stopped.

And then today. She again, did her usual complaints of our cats, and then claimed we were smoking weed. My partner and I live in a state where weed is legal. We have no problem with it and understand its usefulness. However, we both dislike the smell and were very adamant to her since day one that we don’t appreciate drugs in our household. If we were going to use weed it would be not so aromatic. We lived next to a neighbor who smoked often, we know what it smells like. We understood her annoyance with it, and offered solutions that we found and worked with our neighbor if she did in fact smell weed. Because honestly you could smell it from anywhere in this apartment complex. She refused our tips and stated “Just don’t do it. I am old” Today. She stopped my partner and accused him of smoking weed. He takes drugs more seriously than the next person due to  a lot of lost lives, and very excitedly told her no, that was ridiculous and that there was no weed smell. She refused to listen and mentioned complaining to management. I informed her again. That there was no weed, and it was a crime to lie on complaints. She only huffed and than began to ask workers to look into our apartments. ( we knew this since they asked us if we’d like to send in a complaint about her behavior) 

I’m fed up at this point. She sweeps away my salt lines, she sprays water to assault my patio plants. She is attacking us and enough is enough. I do not wish ill on her or anything like that. I just want her out of my life and so today we begin this spell. 

Spell work without the backstory

* Ingredients 

1 black candle for banishment

vanilla to sweeten the look of a new place

Glitter to distract from the reality of being kicked out

peppermint to encourage a fresh and new life

storm water to hasten the results.

I made all of this in my candle to which I will post about how to do later, but all that comes next is whenever you light this candle keep in mind the desire to remove them as painlessly as possible. We don’t wish death, only for a better opportunity and peace. To no longer seek out drama involving us or harassing us anymore. To let people be people.  This may be best to do on a new moon or a waning moon, but my case was special. the first lighting will also include burning her name and stuffing the ashes in a bag filled with storm water and stuffed in the back of the freezer till she is gone. So adapt as needed. 

[wulfrann]

Truce (TYAW 2019)

A Neil and Aaron Bonding Moment presented to you by the hardship that is figuring out what to gift people.

Twinyards Appreciation Week, 06/11 prompt: Aaron with Andrew’s people

After everything Neil's been through, he's not easily surprised. Aaron asking for his help, however, is rare enough that it catches him unaware.

(1k words)

[Scroll down to read here, or click this link to read on AO3]

Neil didn't exactly pride himself on having seen it all, but after everything that had happened to him it was only logical that he'd be difficult to surprise. The Foxes' friendship and Andrew's... well. They had been disarming for a long while, and sometimes still were, but it had been years now and he was mostly used to it. Coming from them, kindness was no longer a question. They were his family and he was theirs, and Neil was getting better at responding to this truth everyday. 

Still, if there was one thing that could surprise him, it was looking at the caller ID on his phone and seeing Aaron's name flash over the tiny screen. Aaron only ever called him when something was going on with Andrew, which he knew not to be the case that day.

Neil let his ringtone have at it for a while, looking at the caller ID like it would somehow reveal to him the reason for Aaron's strange course of action. He knew Andrew was fine because he was visiting him and had seen him that morning, eyelashes glued together by sleep and his hair a wild mess Neil had run his fingers through when he'd come back from his morning jog. He'd bought a pastry on his way back, something insanely sweet and filled with chocolate, and had been rewarded for his trouble with a lazy kiss and a sleep-soft smile. The latter'd stolen his breath away more than any amount of running ever had.

Neil picked up his phone just as it was about to stop ringing and said, "Hello."

There was a huff at the other end of the line and then Aaron's voice was in his ear. "Neil. This is Aaron. Is Andrew around?"

"Nope," Neil answered, expecting Aaron to sigh and hang up. Probably the twins'd just had an argument. Andrew must have hung up on Aaron and was now refusing to pick up the phone. He did that frequently. Neil had used Renee's cooperation a handful of times himself and, on one memorable occasion, a complete stranger's phone. "He's at the vet for a check-up, won't be back before 1pm," Neil added before Aaron could ask.

"Oh, good," Aaron sighed then. Neil arched up an eyebrow.

"You don't want to talk to Andrew?"

Aaron huffed. Neil could almost hear his eyes roll up. "It's you I'm calling, isn't it?"

Neil waited. Aaron had never out-patienced him.

Sure enough, after a few seconds of silence, Aaron huffed another breath. "Look, I'm not calling to start shit, okay? But you can't tell Andrew I called."

"Okay," Neil said, curious in spite of himself. "Why can't I tell him?"

There was a shuffling noise, then Aaron said, "Our birthday's coming up."

"I’m aware. What does that have to do with you calling me?"

Aaron huffed out another breath. "I don't know what to get him."

Neil's eyes widened in spite of himself. Then he smiled, not bothering to keep the smugness out of his voice. "You want my help."

"Yeah," Aaron grumbled.

"Picking a present for Andrew, who is your twin brother."

"Just because we're twins doesn't mean I can read his fucking mind, Josten," Aaron snapped, bitter and sounding more like the Aaron Neil was used to than he'd had until now. "He visits you more often than he even calls me, okay? So congratulations, you win. Now stop being a dick."

Neil was tempted to snark something back, but he supposed Aaron's little tirade had been as much against Neil as it'd been against himself, so he let it slide. Besides, he knew how distant Andrew could behave first-hand. In a way, Neil was almost sympathetic.

"I live closer than you do, and you live with Katelyn," Neil said reluctantly after a few seconds had passed. "I think if you offered to visit him, alone, he'd probably agree."

"No offense," Aaron said then, defensive enough to bite, "but you're the last person I want to hear this from."

Neil shrugged. "Too bad."

"I don't know why I thought this was a good idea," Aaron groaned.

"Me neither," Neil agreed. "Did you try calling Renee or Kevin at all? Nicky?"

"Yeah, and they were no help at all,” Aaron answered, sounding more aggravated by the second. “Nicky didn't know what to get him either, all of Kevin's ideas were Exy related, and Renee just told me that what mattered was that it was from me, and that it wouldn't count if she helped."

Neil snorted. He wasn't really surprised, but he'd thought Nicky at least would have had some ideas. Then again, knowing him, he was probably panicking over what to get both twins himself, and second-guessing everything. That's what he had been like the last November, anyway.

"Look, Josten, just tell me what you're getting him and we'll be done here. I swear I won't try and out-present you."

Neil grinned. "You couldn't even if you tried."

Aaron snorted. "It's on."

"Tempting, but no. I'm keeping my idea." Aaron huffed and Neil knew he was about to protest, so he went on before he could. "He's gotten into baking though. King managed to push the kneading thing off the counter and it broke. He hasn't had time to replace it yet."

That's what Andrew'd said anyway. Neil wasn't sure how heavy those machines actually were, or how plausible it was for an overweight cat to move them around. But Aaron didn't need to know that.

"Huh," Aaron said. "So you can be helpful."

Neil huffed, trying to sound annoyed. His smile kind of ruined the effect.

It was odd, this genuinely smiling at Aaron instead of the sarcastic curve of the lips he was used to biting with, even if Aaron himself wasn't aware of it. Not that they never tried to be cordial, but they usually managed to get under each other's skin so quickly that no one could see the difference either way. 

"Right," Aaron said, sounding like he didn't really know what to say. "I have to go."

"Okay. Andrew will be back soon anyway."

"Right. Uh - it's nothing bad, right? The cats okay?"

Neil blinked. "Yeah, they're fine. Just a check-up."

"Okay, good - I better go," Aaron said again, and still didn't hang up. "And... thanks, Josten."

"...Don't mention it."

"I can guarantee you, I won't," Aaron said with finality, and the line went silent.

Neil was still contemplating his phone when Andrew came back from the vet ten minutes later.

[felilla]

Of the Sun and Moon

Pt. 2 - held on as tightly as you held onto me

Read on Ao3

Summary | Previous Part | Next Part

Patton Summerford had long since grown used to strange occurrences in his life. He seemed to be a magnet for trouble, usually in the form of criminals that seemed to think his inn was the best place to have a pint before going on their merry dangerous way. Though, to be honest, the criminals tended to be his best customers.

He supposed the odd patrons made sense, in a way. His inn was, after all, on a less busy road, several miles out from the nearest town. It was secluded, in a way that it was still visible, but not likely to attract a lot of attention.

So, yeah, Patton was used to weird people and weird things coming through his inn.

He still wasn’t prepared to stumble upon a half-dead man in his stable.

The man was tall, dressed in a black cloak and cradling a cat to his chest. The stable floor was coated in a startling amount of thick, blackish blood and the man heaved in shaky, unstable breaths. It was a horrific sight. Patton took a moment to thank all the gods that Thomas always slept in on restday and hadn’t done his chores today.

Patton worried, for the briefest moment, that the man was one of his patrons (perhaps the kind highway robber that helped him wash the dishes the night before) until he noticed a new horse munching away at the hay, its mane and fur tangled with the blood.

A newcomer then, a straggler from the road.

Don’t even think about it , Pip hissed as he buzzed around Patton’s ear. He could be dangerous .

Patton hesitated at his familiar’s bequest. The hummingbird zipped in front of Patton’s face and then back next to his ear. He was dispelling a lot of nervous energy. The man let out a labored wheeze and Patton’s heart clenched. “He’s hurt, Pip,” Patton whispered, looking to his familiar desperately. “I can’t leave him here.”

You can, Pat. You most definitely can .

No. Patton couldn’t.

Pip continued to protest as Patton inched closer until he could see the man’s face. He was definitely unconscious and his breathing was even more labored than Patton thought. On his chest, the cat picked up their head, giving Patton a low, warning hiss. Pip retreated behind Patton’s head with a squeak.

“It’s okay,” Patton said softly, holding his hands in front of him. The cat familiar glared at him with iridescent green eyes. “I won’t hurt him. I promise.”

No one was able to communicate with someone else’s familiar, but the cat seemed to understand his words. They gave him a contemplative look before slowly shifting off of their human. Patton hurried closer.

The process of getting the man off the ground and into the inn proved to be difficult and tedious. Patton was by no means weak, having spent most of his life lifting hay bales and doing renovations on the inn, but the man’s lanky form made it hard to move him. Eventually, Patton gave up on trying to pick him up and dragged him to the entrance of his house.

The Summerford house was small compared to the inn, connected to the lodging bar by a single wooden door. But it was a space that belonged to only the family, separated from the patrons and their peculiarities. Patton pulled the man through his own personal door, in the back with a path hidden by blackberry bushes, unwilling to draw attention to them. The cat followed loyally.

Patton let out a gasp of surprise when he bumped into a chair, nearly stumbling and dropping the man. Not a second later, a familiar childish voice called out: "Everything okay, Papa?"

"Y-yeah," Patton looked back at the dying man. "Just go back to sleep, kiddo!"

He knew that Thomas would need no more convincing. Footsteps creaked across the loft before falling silent. Patton moved a bit more carefully this time.

And then he realized he had nowhere to put an injured man.

He's dying , Pip said, fluttering back away from Patton. I can feel it.

Patton bit his lip, arms shaking from holding the man up. Eventually, he just slowly let him drop to the ground. The cat lingered by the door, watching them warily. Patton just stared at the soaked cloak. He needed to cut it off to get to the wound.

What exactly are you going to do? You don't know anything more than basic healing spells.

"I know, Pip," Patton said as he gave his familiar a small smile. "We just need to staunch the bleeding until we can get Emile here."

Pip huffed and fluttered over to the bucket of water that Thomas filled the night before, along with the towels. There was a collection of bandages kept close to the stove, for the small emergencies that arose in a kitchen.

When he had everything, he hopped up and hurried back over to the man. He didn't have time to disinfect anything, so he just started cutting the cloak and the shirt away. The man released a low moan. A sharp hiss escaped between his lips. The man’s skin was blackened, as if burned, and there was no cut, no discernable wound. The blood oozed from the man’s pores, dark as ink and just as thick.

What was Patton supposed to do if there was no injury to stitch up? Patton’s hand fluttered over the man’s chest, where his heart still faintly beat. He reached for the towels, dunking them in the water. Perhaps, if he staunched the bleeding... “Please live,” he whispered as he watched the ebony blood stain his white towels. “Please.”

Pat .

Pip’s voice was a warning Patton didn’t hear. “Please live,” Patton repeated, feeling his eyes fill with tears. “Please, please, please.”

“ Live .”

The last word slipped out in a monotone, flat and commanding. Magic cackled in the air around them. Pip fluttered about, spouting nonsense. The cat yowled. Somewhere upstairs, there was a scuffle, a small whine. All throughout the inn, a cacophony of sound erupted. Patton’s palms itched, his arms screamed, his head spun. Steam rose from the towels and pressure crushed down on top of Patton’s hands, his fingers cracking under the weight.

And then it was gone. The magic in the room flashing out of existence. The familiars fell silent. Patton slumped forward, wheezing out a single long breath. Beneath him, the man groaned.

Patton jumped, scrambling back away from the stranger. His back slammed against the cupboards, pain rising up through his shoulders. He ignored the way his fingers refused to obey his command, ignored the white hot pain that flashed up them every time he tried. All of his focus was zoned in on the burned skin of the man laying on his kitchen floor. The bleeding had stopped, but he was still clearly injured.

The man didn’t stir, likely still unconscious. It was a long time before Patton dragged him into the bedroom and onto the bed. And even longer still before he managed to find wake up Thomas to deliver a message to Emile in town.

__________________

Virgil woke up slowly. So slowly. First his mind, then his eyes, and slowly, so slowly, his body. He could feel the familiar weight of Fortune pressed to his side, her breathing slow and even. His own breathing came out harsh and ragged. Events came back, slowly, so slowly.

He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain raced through his abdomen and he laid back with a low groan. Gods, that fucking hurt. His fingers slowly trailed down the clearly borrowed shirt he was wearing to the bandages wrapped professionally around where the wound had been. He was surprised that it no longer felt like a stinging, all consuming flame, but just a small twinge of discomfort if he didn’t move.

Virgil?

Virgil’s eyes snapped down to Fortune, who watched him curiously. “Fortune,” he croaked, his voice scratching out of his throat.

Oh thank the gods you’re alive, Fortune exclaimed as she moved closer to Virgil’s shoulders. That innkeeper was convinced you were going to die.

Innkeeper? Virgil couldn’t find his voice again, but he did manage to raise an eyebrow. Fortune laughed. Oh yeah! The horse brought you to some inn in the middle of nowhere and the owner found you. He did… Something to your wound. I didn’t like it, but it worked apparently. And then a doctor came and some guy with dark glasses that won’t stop glaring at me. At least, I think he’s glaring at me.

Virgil raised his hand, pressing it to the cat's ears. She dropped off and stared up at him. He raised an eyebrow at her. Right! she said. You're at some inn.

Okay, that wasn't too bad. Something clattered on the other side of the door and Virgil tensed. "Thomas," a voice said. "Don't go near it."

Virgil dipped down into his pools of magic for defense.

And stopped.

Virgil's magic had always been a vast sea, bottomless and ever changing and oh so beautiful in the chill it brought across his skin whenever he used it. He thought his magic near infinite in its supply.

But now it dripped like water from a spigot into a small puddle, warm and shallow. Fortune stared up at Virgil. I feel it too. I think it's something that the innkeeper did.

The door swung open and Virgil jerked in surprise. Normally, his magic was cast out to make his hearing more attuned. But Virgil couldn't even be sure he had enough for that, so he refrained. It was best to save it for defense. He reached for the dagger he always kept at his belt, but again found nothing. For the first time in his life, Virgil was completely defenseless.

His gaze snapped up to the figure standing in the door. He would fight with his bare hands if he had to. Ignoring the pain, he forced himself to sit up.

The man stood completely still, wide eyes staring at Virgil. The innkeeper , Fortune informed Virgil.

He wasn’t what Virgil expected to see. Virgil hadn’t met many innkeepers in his life, but the ones that he had met tended to either overweight drunkards, beautiful women, or kindly old couples.

This man was none of those things. He was shorter (much, much shorter than Virgil) with a mop of golden curls atop his head and a smattering of freckles across his light brown skin. He wore an apron that was surprisingly white with a cream tunic and dark brown trousers. He wore no shoes.

He was ridiculously handsome, Virgil’s brain decided before anything else. And honestly, the most stunning thing about the man was his eyes. Even hidden behind the round spectacles balanced on his nose, they were clearly the most vibrant blue Virgil had ever seen on a person before. Not blue like the ocean or blue like the sky. No, they were a flat baby blue, devoid of any other shades or pigments.

The man smiled nervously. “You’re awake.”

Virgil remembered the situation he was in and he tensed. The man’s smile dipped, but didn’t drop. He stepped into the room and Virgil’s eyes were drawn to the tray in his hands. A pitcher and a cup. The man took a careful step forward and when Virgil didn’t react, he crossed the room quickly and set the tray down on the bedside table.

The innkeeper turned his head, jumping a bit when he found his face inches from Virgil’s. Up close, his eyes appeared even more intensely blue and still Virgil could see no deviation from the pale color. His cheeks flushed, a lovely pale pink color and- Fuck. Virgil shook the thoughts from his head. “I’ll just…” the innkeeper laughed, an uncomfortable sound, and stepped away. “I’ll grab Emile.”

Virgil didn’t get a chance to ask who Emile was before the innkeeper darted back out of the room. For the most part, Virgil was used to flustered people even if he didn’t necessarily like being treated like that. He was a prince after all. But this was different. Unless the innkeeper had seen Virgil before, he had no way of knowing that Virgil was a prince.

Outside of the room, he could hear faint whispering. Slowly, carefully, ignoring the ache in his side, he reached for the pitcher and poured himself some water. He had just finished drinking it when the door opened again.

This time, it revealed two people. Virgil’s stomach twisted. Now, he was outnumbered.

One of the men was just a tad bit taller than the innkeeper had been. He was dressed in a white tunic with the symbol of a medic pinned to it. A doctor then. There wasn’t anything particularly interesting about the doctor except for the shock of bubblegum pink hair atop his head. Virgil wondered if it was natural. He knew, at least, that he could trust the doctor. In order to wear that pin, they had to swear to never harm another being.

The other man was much more a threat Virgil knew. He was probably the same height as Virgil and dressed in a black tunic and equally black pants. His hair was dark brown, just a shade darker than the hue of his skin, and combed back away from his face. A pair of darkened spectacles rested on his face, hiding most of his expression. His lips, however, were turned downward into a scowl. A dark brown civet swayed next to his legs, eyeing Fortune disdainfully.

To Virgil’s surprise, they were both, like the innkeeper, barefoot; though the doctor wore mismatched blue and pink socks.

“Good morning,” the doctor said, sounding extraordinarily cheerful given the current circumstances.

Was it morning? Virgil didn’t know. He didn’t even know how long he’d been out. How long he’d been in this room that looked much too personable to be an inn room. Where he even was.

The doctor strode across the room and before Virgil could react, he placed a hand against his forehead. The frowning man frowned more and Virgil found his eyes consistently bouncing over to him. “Well,” the doctor said. “Your fever has gone down at least.”

Fever? Had Virgil developed a fever? A side effect of the poison? Virgil hazarded a question, “What about the poison?”

The doctor paused in removing Virgil’s bandages and peered up at him through pale pink lashes. “Poison?” he questioned before undid the last bit of the bandages.

Virgil’s eyes widened as he stared down at the wound. It just looked like an ordinary burn wound, sticky and gross, but definitely not poisoned. His blood also appeared to a normal, simple red, now dried brownish by the scabbing.

“You got burned pretty badly,” the doctor said as he turned to the bag he’d set down next to the pitcher.

“Yeah,” the other man said and Virgil’s eyes snapped over to him. “I wonder how.”

Virgil had no idea what he was trying to imply. And honestly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Remy, please,” the doctor said as he dripped some potion onto a rag. “It isn’t as if this is the first time we’ve come here to take care of some injured criminal.”

Criminal? Virgil jerked back, both from the pain of the potion as it touched his injury and from the doctor’s words. “ Relax ,” the doctor said softly, magic curling into the air as Virgil felt his muscles ease. A mage doctor then. Even so, his words did nothing to soothe Virgil’s racing mind.

The other man- Remy?- huffed and crossed his arms. He dropped his gaze to the civet at his feet. “Why are you taking his side, Cafferty?” he asked the animal.

The civet wound between his legs, still peering at Fortune every few seconds. Fortune glared back at it and backed up closer to Virgil. The doctor sighed and turned to face Remy, “Dearest, if you’re not going to help then please send Patton in here.”

Remy’s frown dropped in an instant. “Darling,” he said.

The doctor just gave him an unimpressed look. Remy threw up his hands with a sigh before leaving. He left the door open behind him and Virgil doubted he really intended on going far. The doctor sighed and turned back to cleaning Virgil’s burn. “I apologize for my husband,” he said. “He just worries, is all.”

Don’t we all , Virgil thought, but didn’t say. Instead, he just leisurely dragged his hands through Fortune’s fur. It usually helped to calm him, but his nerves were much too on edge right now.

A moment later, the innkeeper returned, this time with a hummingbird zipping around his head. Innkeeper! Fortune said again and Virgil glanced down at her in surprise. Whereas she’d been strictly informative the first time, now she appeared a little happy to see him. Again, Virgil wondered how long he’d been out.

He asked the question a second later.

“Well, you’ve been here for about four days,” the innkeeper said.

“You were unconscious when Patton found you,” the doctor said.

Virgil looked over at the handsome innkeeper. Patton. Patton was his name. “He actually did a very good job of patching you up,” the doctor went on. “You probably would’ve bled out. He saved your life.”

“Emile,” Patton squeaked, pressing his hands to his reddening cheeks.

“In that case,” Virgil turned to Patton. “I am entirely indebted to you, Sir Patton.”

“Oh please don’t call me that,” Patton said, hands still on his cheeks. “Makes me feel so old.”

Emile rolled his eyes, though it was clearly very good natured. Whatever their relationship was with one another, it definitely went beyond just an innkeeper and the doctor he occasionally called. “Regardless,” Virgil said, catching Patton’s attention again. “Thank you. Is there anything I can give you in return?”

Patton looked away, his cheeks still flushed pink. He smiled softly and something in Virgil’s chest tightened pleasantly. “Your name?” Patton asked. His gaze darted to his hummingbird familiar, likely exasperated with something he’d said.

Shit. The one thing Virgil couldn’t tell him. Virgil looked down at Fortune, who likely would’ve shrugged if cats could shrug. When he looked back, both Patton and Emile were looking at him curiously. Virgil cleared his throat, turning his gaze to his hands. “You can call me Virge.”

__________________

“Can I ask where I am?”

Patton looked up from where he’d been cleaning Virge’s wound. It was a lot easier to do now that he was awake. In the days that he’d been unconscious, Emile and Remy had both stayed over to make sure it got cleaned twice a day. The three of them had maneuvered his body this way and that. It was honestly a miracle that alone hadn’t woken up the handsome stranger.

Now, Remy and Emile had returned home, leaving Patton to clean the man’s wounds himself. Patton had asked if Virge wanted to do it himself, but the man admitted that he didn’t know anything about medical care. That piece of information was surprising to Patton. Criminals almost always had a basic understanding of first aid.

“My bedroom,” Patton replied without thinking. The moment the words came out of his mouth, he let out a mortified squeak.

Virge was looking at him with a similar expression. “I apologize for using your sleeping quarters,” he said, sounding completely ashamed.

Patton waved him off, a small smile tilting at his lips. “It’s fine. I usually sleep in the loft with Thomas anyways.”

“Thomas?”

Oh dear. Patton clamped his mouth shut. Maybe he trusted Virge more than he should considering the fact they knew absolutely nothing about each other, but that didn’t mean Patton was naive enough to let this man know that his son lived there. He’d even been ridiculously careful not to let Virge’s cat familiar see Thomas.

Virge seemed to notice Patton’s change in demeanor because he looked away. He buried his hands into his cat’s fur. “I apologize. I don’t mean to pry.”

“You talk real formal,” Patton said suddenly, looking up at Virge. Virge’s hands froze. “Not from around here?”

“No,” Virge replied, his voice still that light, practiced tone. He sounded like Remy had when he first came to Dimn. “I am not.”

He sounded sad and a little angry. Patton dropped his gaze back to the burn wound. The wound that had once been black sludge. Emile had asked about a poison that Virge mentioned. Patton had shrugged it off as “just a burn, Emile”.

“That’s okay,” Patton said after a minute. “Most of us aren’t. And to answer your question, you’re at the Misty Moon Inn just outside of Dimn.”

“Dimn?” Virge muttered the name under his breath before muttering it again. His eyes widened suddenly as his head swivelled around to look at Patton. Patton jumped, again caught off guard by the purple-black color of Virge’s eyes. “Dimn on the border of Masoth and Arcenciel?”

Patton blinked rapidly at Virge. “Well, tech- Well, technically we are about a two days ride from Arcenciel, but yes?”

Virge looked down at his cat, who stared back up at him with a seemingly bewildered expression. “That’s impossible, Fortune,” Virge said.

Fortune blinked slowly. Virge sighed, dragging a hand through his black hair. “Great, just wonderful .”

Patton looked between the two of them. “Am I… Missing something?”

Virge jumped as if he’d just realized Patton was still in the room with them. He frowned then shook his head. “No, nothing. I apologize, Patton.”

Patton’s eyebrows furrowed, but he just nodded and turned to grab the bandages. Virge had been lying from the moment he woke up. Patton knew that much. He always knew when someone was lying. Remy thought it was a magical gift, but Patton’s mother had always just tapped a finger to his nose and said with a smile, “Intuition, my love. A Summerford family secret.”

Patton knew Virge was lying, but he also knew that he wasn’t doing it out of malice. Still, it made him curious and maybe just the tiniest bit wary.

He finished redressing Virge’s wound in silence. When he stood to go, fingers curled loosely around his wrist. Patton froze.

“I am not a criminal,” Virge said.

Patton’s eyes dipped to his wound, skeptical, but Virge just gripped his hand a bit tighter. “I need you to trust me,” he said, his voice just above a whisper. “I know you have no reason to, but please, please just trust me.”

Patton looked back, startled to find Virge’s eyes wide with thinly veiled panic. After a long moment, Patton sighed, giving Virge a soft smile and a nod. Virge released him, relief flooded in his expression. He offered Patton a smile, a small one that looked like it didn’t often make an appearance on his face. But an absolutely endearing one.

“I’ll wake you up when it’s time to change them again,” Patton said.

“Thank you again,” Virge said. “Truly.”

__________________

Virgil was starting to feel like a cat in a cage. He never much cared for the interactions that came with being a prince, but he had very much enjoyed the fact that he could walk around in the sunlight, walk through his gardens. Be at ease.

It’d been a week and he had yet to leave Patton’s bedroom. There was an adjoining restroom, a small blessing, but there wasn’t much else. With the help of Emile and Patton, Virgil was up and walking within three days, but that only served to make him more restless. Because now he could look out Patton’s window and see the world.

During the days, he watched Patton tend to the horses in the stable and the flowers in his garden. At night, he watched drunkards and vagabonds and travellers enter and leave. He always made sure to move away from the window when Patton appeared to dress his wounds or give him food.

Patton rarely showed up otherwise and every time he turned to leave, Virgil found himself reaching for his wrist or sleeve, calling out, asking for more conversation in the only convoluted way he knew. Virgil didn’t think it stemmed from loneliness. He was never truly alone; he always had Fortune after all. And Emile came at least every other day to see him and talk to him and it wasn’t quite the same.

He just wanted to talk with Patton. Patton, who smiled like the sun, and laughed like bells. Patton, who managed to bring a smile to Virgil’s lips and chase away the troubling thoughts stirring in Virgil’s mind for even a moment.

But being stuck in the room was still driving him insane. So he made a rash decision and decided to leave the room, knowing that Patton would be at the inn getting dinner ready. He just intended to explore, but he did not expect to see a small child sitting at the table.

The kid stared at Virgil and Virgil stared back.

He couldn’t have been more than ten with a head of light brown hair and big, equally brown eyes. He was dressed in a one piece shirt and pants combo, a common outfit for children in Masoth.

Had the kid broken in? He looked clean and healthy, nothing like the homeless children Virgil had occasionally seen in the capital, but maybe children were just dirtier in the city?  Fortune darted past Virgil’s legs and the kid’s attention was drawn to her instead. It snapped Virgil out of his shock. He stepped out of the room, a greeting forming on his lips.

“Oh no,” the boy said.

He didn’t seem all that surprised by Virgil’s presence at all. Instead, he just hopped down from his chair and bent down. When he straightened up, Virgil saw a rabbit familiar cradled in his arms. “Hello,” Virgil tried again. “Are you supposed to be in here?”

The boy looked between Fortune and Virgil before he turned on his heel and ran . He turned a corner and disappeared, leaving Virgil caught completely off guard. He knew that he wasn’t the best with children, but the boy’s reaction seemed a bit over the top. Although the boy’s presence was a little bizarre.

It didn’t click in Virgil’s mind until he heard Patton’s voice. “Ow, ow,” he said, laughing as he spoke. “Don’t tug so hard, kiddo.”

The boy and Patton rounded the corner, the boy’s hand firmly inserted into Patton’s. The boy raised a hand and pointed at Virgil like he was accusing Virgil of some crime. And if Virgil was honest, he kind of felt like he was committing one. He had intended to snoop around Patton’s house like a creep.

Patton’s eyes widened as he stared at Virgil. He coughed before pressing the boy a bit behind him. His gaze turned to his hummingbird for the barest second, “Yes, thank you, Pip.”

“You…” Virgil’s gaze dropped back to the kid, who pressed himself closer to Patton. “You know this kid?”

Patton cleared his throat again, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “He’s my son.”

“I’m Thomas Summerford!” the boy declared before he held out his rabbit. “This is my rabbit friend, Dow Summerford.”

The name snapped into place. Patton had mentioned sleeping in the loft with a Thomas. At the time, Virgil had assumed that it was Patton’s partner.

He was never so happy to be wrong.

The fond expression that crossed Patton’s face was unmistakable and it brought a tightness to Virgil’s chest. The King had a similar look that had seemed to only be reserved for Virgil. He missed his father.

Virgil looked down at Thomas again. The two looked absolutely nothing alike and Virgil wondered if the boy had gotten all of his traits from his mother. And where was the mother? Gods, Virgil was thinking of too many questions. Getting to know Patton anymore was probably not a very good idea.

Even so, Virgil knelt down to Thomas’s level and scooped up Fortune. “My name is Virge and this is my cat friend, Fortune.”

“What’s your family name?” Thomas asked slowly, his words jumping around the sentence uncertainly.

Virgil froze. Again, he knew that giving his name was too much. “I do not have one,” he said after a moment. “My family is gone.”

Patton’s eyebrows furrowed a bit, just like they always did when Virgil told a lie. Virgil didn’t know if he knew he was lying or just suspected it, but the look always made him nervous regardless. Patton opened his mouth, likely to say something, but Thomas jumped out from behind him with a wide smile and an eager glint to his eyes. “We can be your family!”

Once again, Virgil found himself caught off guard and a little choked up. It seemed to be an effect all of the Summerfords had on him.

“Thomas,” Patton said softly and Thomas whirled around.

“What?” he said, clearly without a care in the world. “I had no family and you became my papa!”

Patton smiled, that fond look back on his face. “That’s different, Tommyboy. You were a little boy. Virge is a big, grown man.”

Thomas pouted before dramatically setting Dow down and crossing his arms. “This is not fair,” he said. “What if I want a brother, Papa? What then?”

Virgil couldn’t help it. He snorted. Both Patton and Thomas looked at him in surprise. Thomas grinned. “You told me he didn’t laugh!” Thomas exclaimed, pointing the same accusatory finger at Patton that he’d been pointing at Virgil only moments before.

“I thought he didn’t,” Patton said, sounding genuinely dumbfounded. His eyes widened as if his thoughts had caught up to his mouth. “Oh gosh, I didn’t mean that, Virge.”

“I don’t think you have tried to make me laugh, Patton,” Virgil said.

“Well, that’s patton-ly absurd,” Patton said, his face splitting into a wide grin.

Virgil covered his mouth to stop the laugh that threatened to spill out. Next to him, Fortune burst out into laughter. He managed to smooth out his features at the last moment. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

What?! That was a great joke, Virgil .

Patton stepped closer, one of his hands automatically going to settle into Thomas’s hair. “Well, you know how birds fly in a v formation and one side is longer than the other? Why do you think that is?”

Virgil blinked, surprised by the sudden facts that Patton seemed to be giving out. “Um, I don’t know?”

“Because there’s more birds on that side,” he said with the straightest face Virgil had ever seen on him.

Virgil couldn’t help it. He burst out laughing, hiding his face in his hands. He laughed so hard that his injury started to twinge in pain. He laughed so hard that he needed the table for support. He laughed and laughed and laughed and it honestly felt so, so good. He hadn’t laughed this hard since he was a teenager. Fortune borderline cackled beside him and even Thomas giggled at his father’s joke. Patton just beamed at them.

It took Virgil a moment to calm himself, but when he did, Patton was still grinning. And he looked beautiful. Virgil tramped the thought down. “I apologize for leaving the room,” he said. “I know that you probably did not want me to.”

Patton’s smile didn’t falter. “It’s fine,” he said. “I can’t keep you locked up like an animal.”

He probably honestly wanted Virgil out of his house completely. And though Virgil had nowhere to go until the hunt for his head cooled down, he offered anyway. “Would you like me to leave?”

Thomas made a small sound that might have been a whine as he turned his gaze to Patton. Patton glanced down at his son briefly before looking back at Virgil. His smile softened around the edges and Virgil found himself a little weak in the knees. “You can stay as long as you want, Virge.”

As long as we want? Fortune said and if cats could grin, she definitely would’ve been grinning. I want to stay as long as he’s got that yummy fish stuff!

Virgil tried not to roll his eyes. Instead, he gave Patton a warm smile in return. “Thank you. I believe I might find my entire life indebted to your kindness.”

Patton’s cheeks flushed into that lovely pink that Virgil liked so much. He turned, turning Thomas around with him. “C’mon, kiddo. Let’s bake tonight’s bread.”

“But I wanna play with Virge ,” Thomas whined.

Patton looked over his shoulder at Virgil. “I’m sure Virgil has things he wants to do,” he said.

Virgil looked down at Thomas, who stared up at him with wide, hopeful eyes. After a moment, he sighed. “It’s alright, Patton,” he said and Thomas started jumping up and down in time with Dow. “I fear I do not know any games though.”

“I’ll teach them to you,” Thomas exclaimed as he caught Virgil’s hand. “C’mon, Papa just showed me how to play tic-tac-toe yesterday! It’s so much fun!”

Well, Virgil knew that game. Even so, he nodded along with Thomas’s words. “It sounds fun.”

When he looked back up, Patton was still there, watching them both with a curious expression. He caught Virgil looking at him and smiled. “Well, if you insist. I’ll just be on the other side of the door if you need me.”

__________________

Patton worked late. It was a fact he couldn’t avoid. When Thomas had been really little, Emile or Remy would come over to put him to bed for Patton. Over the years though, Thomas had learned to tuck himself in. Patton would usually come back to the house side of the inn and climb the stairs to the loft before collapsing into bed next to his son. Thomas always latched onto him immediately like a leech. Patton hadn’t slept in his own bed in years .

Even with the arrival of Virge, the two of them hadn’t deviated from that routine. Even after Virge and Thomas had met, nothing had changed.

So Patton was more than a little bit surprised when he returned to the house and found Virge and Thomas on the couch. Thomas was out cold, Dow pressed to his chest, his entire body curled into Virge’s side. Virge, for his part, was reading with Fortune curled on his lap and a hand lazily carding through the cat familiar’s fur. It should’ve startled Patton. Virge had been watching Thomas almost every day since they’d met about a week ago, but he’d never come home to something like this.

Virge looked up suddenly, eyes wide. Patton hadn’t realized he’d made any noise. Pip zipped next to his ear. I’m too tired for this , he said before he zoomed up the stairs to the loft. Patton didn’t move. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.

Virge turned his gaze to Thomas’s sleeping form, his face smoothed out and gentle. Patton’s heart skipped more than a couple of beats. He stepped closer as quietly as he could, kneeling down in front of his son. Patton slowly carded a hand through Thomas’s hair. The boy didn’t respond besides briefly scooting closer to Virge.

“He had a nightmare,” Virge said. The tips of his ears pinkened a bit. “He was shouting. I think he thought I was you.”

Patton looked up at Virge, who was frowning down at Thomas. “Fire?” Patton asked. It was a common dream for Thomas. He’d been too young to remember how his parents died, if they died, but he dreamt of fire enough that Patton and Emile both imagined it had something to do with how he ended up wandering the woods.

Virge nodded. “I…” he sighed and put the book down. Patton distantly recognized it as one that Emile had brought over for him to read. Virgil stared down at Fortune, who continued to snooze along. There was something about the distant look in his eyes that made Patton’s chest feel warm. “Whenever I had nightmares, my mother would take me somewhere else and read to me. She would read anything. Physics, fairytales. Sometimes she would read magical theory to me.”

“She sounds like a wonderful person,” Patton said.

Virge looked down at Patton, a faint smile twinging at his lips. “She was. My father was as well.”

“Do you miss them?” Patton asked.

“Everyday.”

Patton nodded before he turned his gaze to Thomas. He had always been such a heavy sleeper. “I miss my ma,” he said. “It was always just me and her. She was… Incredible . Caring and hardworking and so, so kind.”

“What happened to her?”

Virge looked as though he was startled by his own words. “I apologize, I didn’t-”

Patton smiled sadly at him and shook his head. “Plague,” he said simply. “I was sixteen.”

“I’m sorry,” Virge said and Patton startled a bit when a sudden pressure pushed against his free hand. Virge’s hand on top of his.

Patton stared up at Virge and Virge stared back down at him. A million years could’ve passed and it wouldn’t have made a difference to Patton. He knew then, what he’d only suspected a week ago when he heard Virge’s laughter.

“I should,” Patton cleared his throat, still holding Virge’s gaze. “I should get Thomas into bed.”

“Yes,” Virge said, but he didn’t pull his hand away and Patton wasn’t sure he wanted him to.

“I don’t want to wake him up,” Patton said.

“Then don’t.”

Needless to say, Patton woke up the next morning on the couch with Thomas, Virge, Fortune, Dow, and even Pip all piled up around him.

__________________

Virgil knew that he was entering dangerous territory when Patton’s knuckles accidentally brushed his ribs while redoing his bandages. In that moment, all Virgil heard was the pounding of his heart and all he felt was that familiar pleasant tightness in his chest. He grabbed Patton’s hand before he could stop himself.

Patton didn’t pull away, not immediately. His eyes widened a bit, but he held Virgil’s gaze, steady and clear and so, so soft. “Sorry,” he said, his voice so quiet Virgil almost strained to hear him. “Did I hurt you?”

“No,” Virgil managed to gasp out even though it felt like there was a vice grip on his lungs.

Patton smiled as his fingers tangled into Virgil’s. “Good.”

Virgil wanted nothing more than to kiss him. His fingers twitched and after a moment, he pulled away. He tried to ignore the way that Patton’s face fell. They continued the process in silence and Patton left with only a small goodbye. And oh gods, it hurt so much.

Virgil knew he needed to leave before he became any more attached. He had been there an entire month, more than long enough for a headhunt to calm. Ophiuchus likely assumed that Virgil died in the forest that night. Virgil had only two reasons to stay and they’d be in danger if he stayed too long.

So, after Patton had returned from the inn and gone to bed, Virgil reattached his belt and pulled on his boots. His abdomen still ached, but the pain was bearable now. Bearable enough that he’d be able to ride, at least.

Why are we leaving? Fortune whined as she threaded around Virgil’s legs.

“You know why,” Virgil hissed under his breath. He didn’t want to wake Patton up.

We’re safe here, Virgil , she argued as she hopped up onto the chair that Virgil’s belongings had been sitting on. No one is going to look for you in Dimn. We’re thousands of miles away from home.

“That’s the problem, isn’t it?”

It shouldn’t have been possible. Virgil doubted that he’d been riding for more than a night on the back of the gelding. That length of time did not equate to the weeks it should’ve taken him to get to Dimn by horseback. As a child, Virgil and Ophiuchus had listened to the stories, stories about misplaced space. Stories of how people used magic to jump from one side of the world to the other.

The brothers had always dismissed it as fiction, but-

If something like that truly existed, especially if it existed just outside of the capital, then Virgil needed to find it. He needed to find it, amass an army to fight against his brother, and use it to get his crown back.

Virgil winced as he pulled on his cloak. He was surprised to find it completely devoid of blood and thought back to Patton’s always pristine apron. Which made him think of Patton’s smile and his eyes and- Virgil groaned and shoved his hands into his hair.

Fortune mewed softly, the closest her cat form could come to a sound of sympathy. With a small sigh, Virgil turned the doorknob and opened the door.

He promptly stopped.

Patton was standing in front of the door, hand raised as if to knock. His eyes went wide, surprised. Slowly, his gaze travelled over Virgil’s attire. “You’re leaving,” he said and Virgil’s heart panged at the forlornness of his tone.

“I have to,” Virgil said.

Patton shuffled in place. "I'm not asking you to go, so why do you have to?"

Was now really the time he was going to start asking questions? He knew that Patton could tell when he was lying. There was no purpose in doing it now. Virgil knew that he should leave now, without saying a word.

When Patton looked up, Virgil was startled to see tears in his eyes. Patton moved closer, catching Virgil's fingers between his own. Their hands tangled together without prompting, palms pressed flush against each other. Virgil knew that his hand belonged in Patton’s the same way he knew that the sun rose and set everyday.

"You could stay," Patton said as he took another step closer. His voice was barely a whisper. "Please stay."

Virgil didn't really process what happened next. He surged forward, his free hand cupping the soft skin of Patton’s cheek. Patton squeaked.

The kiss was short, but it made warmth blossom in Virgil's chest. It was the closest he'd felt to having his magic back since he woke up. Like fire in his fingertips and lightning in his veins. He felt as though he could fight his brother at this moment and win, if only it meant he could spend another moment with the beautiful man in front of him.

Virgil pulled his hand free from Patton’s grasp, his arms winding around the shorter man’s waist. He thought that maybe, if he grasped onto him tight enough, the life he had before would become the dream. Maybe, if he held Patton against him long enough, Virgil could wake up in a world where he was not a prince on the run, but a humble innkeeper’s husband with a son that loved tic-tac-toe.

Patton sniffled against Virgil’s chest, his shoulders rising and falling with silent sobs.

"That's why I have to go," Virgil said as he pressed his face into Patton curls. He smelled like freshly baked bread and the lemons he grew outside the inn.

Virgil heard the crack in his voice, felt the stinging behind his eyes. He hadn’t cried since his father passed. After all, Kings are not supposed to cry, but maybe, just maybe the gods would spare him a tear. Patton shifted and brought his arms up to hold Virgil back. His fingers curled into the fabric tightly. "Maybe," Patton said, his voice muffled by Virgil's shirt. "That's why you need to stay."

Virgil knew that if he held on any longer, he would lose all resolve. That he would never leave and, in doing so, put Patton and Thomas and Remy and Emile in danger. And, given the current state of his magic and body, he doubted he'd be able to protect them. Virgil would never be able to forgive himself if he let someone hurt him.

So he pulled away.

Patton, surprisingly, gave up no fight. He slowly released Virgil and stood to the side, his hands clamped over his mouth. Virgil , Fortune said, sounding absolutely miserable. Let’s stay.

Virgil didn’t respond. He pulled his hood over his head and made his way to the door. Fortune followed, still pleading with him. Virgil opened the door, letting the warm summer air wash over him. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Virgil heard a thud as Patton’s knees hit the ground, heard Patton’s quiet sobs. Virgil heard his own breath hitch, felt his resolve begin to crumble. “I love you,” Patton said, his voice raspy and half a sob, but Virgil still heard it. "I'll wait for you."

I love you too , Virgil thought, but didn’t say. He bent down, picked up Fortune, and left.

For now.

[autodiscothings]

Hello Secret Santa!

It occurs to me that just a vague link to the garbage fire that is my tumblr isn’t going to help you much, so I made a character reference guide for my idiots. 

If you’re unfamiliar with the Mass Effect universe (which you might be, or might need a refresher) I hope it’s useful. 

Kolyat Krios:

I don’t actually own him, I adopted him from BioWare. Kolyat is the son of Thane Krios, an infamous assassin. His childhood was not a nice one, but Kol got his life together after the war and decided not to murder people for a living like dear old dad did.

Kolyat is a drell, a scaled, bipedal race that are rare to the point of extinction in the universe, thanks to destroying their homeworld; only half a million of them exist, which is nothing. A large chunk of this population are subservient/lackeys to a jellyfish-like sentient race called the hanar, who use the drell to operate their machinery and fight for them, often from a young age. It is called the Compact agreement, and drell have worked off their debt for being ‘saved’ from their dying planet for centuries, with no sign of leaving it- yet.

Kolyat is not part of the Compact, nor does he have a hanar handler. In my Postwar ‘neon noir’ universe he is somewhat independent of his homeworld and lives on the Citadel; Kolyat is instead a 20-something detective in C-Sec, a job that defines him.

He lives on a mass, multispecies Ward on the space station -like DS9, but far more civilian- think NYC, London and Hong Kong on acid. Kolyat works for the station’s Homicide and Violent Crimes division; he finds the work fulfilling, but is a workaholic about solving the cases.

Kolyat’s a little bit grumpy, a little bit sarcastic, often prone to scowling. He is also a secret softy, despite the distant introversion- good with kids and pets, despite grumbling appearances. Once he trusts you enough to let you in, you have a friend for life, but he’s guarded about his past for good reasons.

Outfit wise, he’s a man who dresses for comfort, not style. He wears a constricting uniform all day, so his civvies are the 2190 equivalent of jogging bottoms and t-shirts. I mostly draw him in his battered leather jacket, but it’s fine without too.

His tag is: [HERE]. I have made outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE].

I actually really love his in game model, it’s not just a recolour of his dad. That chin! It’s truly excellent. Kolyat is head over heels in love (to his bafflement) with...

Oriana Lawson Lee:

They met at a postwar party on the Citadel, a few years after the Reapers were destroyed. I don’t actually own her either, I also adopted her from BioWare. She’s the sister/twin/clone of Miranda Lawson, but goes by her adopted family’s name of Lee.

Like Kolyat, Ori’s past isn’t a nice one; she was created in a laboratory to be a clone of her sister, a genetically perfect human. Ori was smuggled out as an infant to live a normal life for 19 years with her adopted family; during the war she was kidnapped and held at a space concentration camp by her creator, where he experimented on refugees and turned them into fodder for the war.

She survived, but has scars she keeps quiet about. Oriana is an ‘Ori’ to most people, and the kind of person in which the definition of charisma is usually applied to. She just has something that makes her noticeable- when she wants to. Ori is old Hollywood glam passed through a sci-fi filter, and is usually dressed to impress- often to a calculated degree. Feel free to go over the top with with pretty dresses and red carpet/gala looks, it’s very much her brand.

It’s not all sashaying around in heels, though. Oriana is also a structural engineer and colony developer for Kellam Industries, a sort of made up Doctors Without Borders/ Medecins Sans Frontier charity in the 2190s, and homes displaced refugees for a living. If you want to draw this side of her too, I will be just as delighted.

She and Kolyat seem like complete opposites, but are very much in love- even if they can’t work it out yet. Ori definitely keeps him on his toes; she’s guarded about her past, for obvious backstory reasons.

Ori’s tag is [HERE] and her wardrobe inspo tag is [HERE.] I have made two outfit/inspiration sheets [HERE] and [HERE].

I actually ignore the in game model, especially ME3′s horrible version. I don’t have a face claim for her, but I’ve drawn her plenty of times now for her to be distinctively her.  (I say, hopefully.)

Fish The Cat:

Fish is a standard short-haired cat that belongs to Kolyat, a stray he found and brought back home. She is as grumpy as her owner, but still the boss- Fish remains the absolute queen of their household.

She’s a grey-brown tabby with a white bib and matching socks; at one point she was overweight thanks to her food obsession, but Kolyat half-heartedly tries to keep it below chonk levels. Fish is very much his cat, the only one who she’ll let touch her/pet/etc. It seems Ori’s charm doesn’t actually work on belligerent cats at all, and Fish can be spiteful if she tries to hard.

Fish’s tag is [HERE]. She has no faceclaim (lol) but she’s just a standard tabby and white housecat you can find everywhere, really.

Detective Batesda “Bats” T’Lori:

T’Lori -Bats to his friends- is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat is in C-Sec. He’s also the closest thing Kolyat has to a best friend, which considering their personality difference, is hilarious.

Bats is a he/him asari. Asari are the universe’s space-elves, but female-presenting; his choice in pronouns is unusual for the setting, but accepted.

He will often roast the shit out of Kolyat on a daily basis. Bats is on paper is quite odious -a joker, never keeps the same lover around longer than a month, heavy drinker, titty obsessed, anime obsessive, lazy- but somehow has a certain charm that makes him get away with most of it.

Bats is an absolute powerhouse of a biotic (space wizard magic), and the squad’s heaviest hitter because of it. He dresses in practical clothing, but is fond of catsuits and one-pieces (no dresses.) He’s not a particular snazzy dresser, though, but is fond of wearing black and red.

Bats’ tag is [HERE]. I’ve used Ruby Rose a couple of times as reference for his face.

Detective Arjul Patel

Patel is part of the same team/squad as Kolyat in C-Sec, and self-appointed Squad Dad. He has somewhat gross traits; the one most likely to roll up his sleeve to show you his elbow rash, but he’ll also bring in candy and snacks he’s made for the crew.

He’s in his fifties, and has brown skin, warm brown eyes with a sly twinkle in them and a well combed head of black hair. Thanks to a steady diet of snacks, Patel has a little belly- he also has very impressive eyebrows that are very expressive. 

Patel is a born and bred Indian, but moved off world to a colony as soon as he was able. He has less art than the others; I have used Nawazuddin Siddiqui as a face ref for a few paintings, but softened his features every time. 

Patel’s tag is [HERE].

Thank you for reading all this!

Art of any of these characters is more than fine with me, but a combination of the above will probably make my christmas.

A lot of Kol and Ori is my headcanon interwoven with actual canon, if you’re reading it all and going “I don’t remember that” that’s why. All the fan wiki links are legit canon, though.

I write about them as well as draw them, hence the mass amount of words. Their stories are up on A03.

I also answer questions about the characters a great deal in asks and prompts, the tag is [HERE].

Feel free to send me asks via anon if you want to know anything else <3