#i just made this lorde wallpaper and i’d like to share with you all

[solaarbeeam]

MAKE THAT SIX — FURIN FIRST YEAR SIX

TYPE — RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

SYNOPSIS — a look into your relationship with the furin first year six.

CHARACTERS — sakura haruka, suo hayato, nirei akihiko, kiryu mitsuki, tsugeura taiga, and sugeshita kyotaro

A/N:: i’d like to formally thank callum for getting the brain juices flowing cause DAMN i got SHIT TO SAY abt these five. ALSO!! nonnie if u find this, i did it <33 also! reader ks a member of bofurin, and is gender!neutral

— SAKURA HARUKA

— Oh my lord I’ve got a whole bunch of shit to say about this one.

— Please help this poor man out, he’s stressing over this so much.

— He’s already been voted grade captain, told that he’s formally trusted by the top dog of his school, and now he gets a significant other? He’s gonna break soon honey, if he hasn’t already.

— Expect that he has an issue with you getting hurt in fights even though you are a formal member of Bofurin and he has seen you fight long before the both of you got together. He knows you’re good at it and you can take care of yourself. He’s just a very worried softie :(

— Made Kiryu teach him how to use his phone in order to text you more often, even if you do see each other every day.

— Friendly spars! Fighting gives him joy and he’s a happy camper when he sees that you enjoy the sparring.

— Doesn’t know much about being a boyfriend but he always shares food with you even if you don’t ask for it.

— Lowkey ashamed to be out in public with you because of how he looks. He doesn’t want people looking at you weird because of him.

— Thought you were pranking him when you told him you loved him. He very much ran away. You had to go and chase him down for two hours to get the point across.

— Avid sleepovers at your house! He has the most peaceful sleeping face. Your wallpaper on your phone is him sleeping peacefully against one of your pillows.

— He absolutely screeched when he saw it too, by the way.

— Has major separation anxiety because of how he grew up. He needs you to be in eyeshot or somewhere he can easily find you.

— Has his location on all the time because why wouldn’t he? This man is loyal.

— Is the type to let you wear what you want because in his mind, you’ll just beat up whoever it is who’s bothering you. He’ll jump in if you want to jump them too.

— Nighttime walks. Even better when the stars are dotting the skies. It’s peaceful, and it makes him feel like he’s doing a good job with the whole boyfriend thing.

— Tugs on your Furin Jacket when he wants your attention.

— You absolutely sneak other clothes into his closet. His lack of opinions and choices are very concerning to you.

— Aquarium dates! He really likes sea life a lot and it’s cute to see him blushing from awe at all the dolphins and fishies!

— You have attempted to beat up his foster parents when they came through Makochi once. You, unluckily, didn’t get to because Suo and Nirei pulled up with the rest of the first year to run them out of town. He cried in your bed because he never thought people would care about him like that.

— His wallpaper is you and him holding hands on one of your night walks.

— Has let you put makeup on him before and let me tell you, Sakura Haruka is the prettiest man on the planet.

— You like to call his eyes pretty a lot. Like gemstones. No matter how many times you tell him, he still violently blushes and hides his face.

— The Grade Captain of Class 1-1 has a significant other, and he wouldn’t trade you for the world. No matter how much shenanigans you get into.

— SUO HAYATO

— Hm. The teasing gentleman. Let’s see..

— A certified back hugger. Mans does not care about PDA. If he wants to hug you, he will.

— Teaches you about his style of fighting sometimes, even though you fight similarly to Kiryu.

— Lets you wear his tassel earrings when you ask for them. He thinks they look adorable on you.

— He was so tempted to show off at the Tournament with Shishitoren just so you can see how good of a fighter he is.

— Will rant about tea flavors, although he doesn’t classify it as ranting. You do though, because that’s what it is, and it’s adorable to see him tall about the differences between flavors.

— He can’t cook for jack shit but let me tell you, that man can bake. Best believe you are a pastry taste tester for all his little baking experiments.

— You have absolutely pranked him with Natto in his food. This was the first of rare times you will ever catch him off guard.

— Beach walks. On the sand, on the coast line. That’s all I have to say.

— Can absolutely ballroom dance. He has ballroom danced with you at his house and is absolutely hoping you and him are forever so he can ballroom dance with you at your wedding.

— You sit on top of his desk at Furin whenever you can’t find a seat and drag it over.

— Absolutely almost flipped Tsubakino over because he thought he was trying to flirt, even though the both of you are first years. He was just caught off guard! All poor Tsubakino wanted to do was compliment you :(

— Kisses the back of your hand, similarly to princes in most modern royal media.

— Once again, this man does not give a flying fuck about PDA. If he wants to kiss you in front of the person taking your order at a fast food joint, he will and what are they going to do about it?

— Your wallpaper is him sitting on beach sand in the sunrise.

— His wallpaper is you doing something stupid. What can I say, he’s a tease. To himself, he’s a genius.

— He’s saved as Leonardo Dicaprio in your phone, for shits and giggles.

— Does the sidewalk rule expeditiously, even if your reflexes are better than most.

— Keeps his hand on the small of your back once you’re in big crowds

— Do all of us a favor and never team up in a fight, because the result? The opposing fighters are the finished.

— Assuming that under his eye he has a grotesque injury, you have very much kissed that injury senseless. Keep doing it, it makes him feel all warm and gooey inside.

— You baked gingerbread cookies together for Christmas. Umemiya came to raid them soon enough though.

— His mother loves you.

— Has already given you a promise ring. You wear it around your neck to prevent it from breaking while punching someone in a fight.

— If (more like WHEN) you get married, you were the one who got down on one knee and proposed to him. It was the closest he’d been to crying ever.

— Newsflash, he did cry.

— Will sling you over his shoulder no matter how much you weigh to assert dominance. He’s just a cheeky little shit.

— NIREI AKIHIKO

— GIVE MY BABY THE ASSURANCE HE NEEDS, OKAY??

— Okay but all jokes aside, reassure this man because he feels like dead weight to you all the time and he doesn’t want to be.

— Has a special page in his notebook just for you! Well, it’s more of a section really..

— He’s a cuddle bug. Give bro a bed, some blankets, a decently sized pillow and one order of you and it’ll be the best cuddles you’ve ever had.

— Texts you pictures of all the animals he sees when he’s doing solo patrols with Suo and Sakura.

— Your wallpaper of him is him petting one of the dogs in the neighborhood.

— Is the type to claim that you can and will beat someone in a fight whenever a non-Furin person claims they can fight.

— Do not, and I mean DO NOT, play tag with Nirei. You will lose. That man is a trackstar.

— Wash Day is your day, okay? That mam can and should be a licensed hairstylist. He will leave your hair looking gorgeous no matter what type you have from 1A all the way to 4C.

— His name in your phone is Pookie Bear. He died when he saw it.

— Your name in his phone is Heartie with multiple heart emojis after it.

— Lets you wear his hairclips and necklaces. He’s got too many to even comprehend.

— His love language is words of affirmation. You will never feel insecure with this boy (in his mind, that’s his job)

— Feels bad for forcing you to protect him all the time in fights but he’s always there to patch you up after.

— Speaking of patching up after, make this man a doctor as well cause the way you will NEVER, and I mean NEVER get sick when this man’s around is absolute.

— Is the fun fact king and will send you random, silly fun facts about anything and everything, it’s so cute.

— Amusement Park dates. Need I say more?

— He will share his food without asking. He wants you to try!

— His wallpaper is a collection of polaroid photos of the both of you after a Carnival Date.

— Nose kisses!! All day every day!!

— KIRYU MITSUKI

— Matching PFPs with you on every gaming platform you can think of. Is matching pfps with you on social media as well.

— Lets you pick out the piercings he wears during the day.

— You play with his Furin Jacket sleeves because their always drooping to a degree.

— You stare into his eyes as a pastime because they’re so??? gorgeous???? He has most definitely blushed because of it.

— Both of you are speed-based fighters so having the both of you tag team an opposing side is lethal work.

— Teasing. He’s not as bad as Suo but we’re not going to sit here and say that he’s not a tease.

— Makes a point to match with you when it comes to outfits to some degree, even if you don’t have the same style or taste.

— His wallpaper is you leaning back in a chair at Furin, with the sunrise hitting your face just right.

— Your wallpaper of him is him playing one of the many games on his phone.

— Speaking of phone, he has a separate album in his phone that’s full of pictures of you doing absolutely anything and everything.

— Is the type to egg you on into versing him in a game knowing he’s better just to see you get all pouty when you lose. He thinks its cute until you legitimately crash out.

— You’re in his pinned on his phone.

— Most definitely has a moodboard of the both of you, mostly shenanigans the both of you would get up to, but the rest of it is legitimate sweetness.

— You are saved in his phone as ‘My Player #2’. I don’t make the rules, you just are.

— Boba!! His favorite kind of dates are when you go around trying different foods and drinks. He’ll always get your favorite eventually though.

— Buys funny shirts on purpose to make you laugh. He also buys funny hoodies and puts them in your closet on purpose. That’s right, you don’t even have to ask.

— Lets you paint his nails. He’s a pretty princess, all he needs is to have it shown on the outside.

— Also lets you use his hair clips a lot! You and h have matching ones you wear with designated outfits.

— Matching phone cases on the month of your anniversary. I know I’m talking about matching a lot, but I think that matching with your significant other is a very Kiryu-coded thing to do.

— Karaoke nights with him are the absolute best.

— TSUGEURA TAIGA

— Yall. I have feelings about this one.

— Uses kisses as motivation to continue on with his workout routines. Yes, if you slide under him while he’s doing push ups, he will kiss you.

— Is a weighted blanket personified. In winter time you can and will be cozy.

— Love languages are words of affirmation and physical touch. However, he’s aggressive with the words of affirmation, the opposite of Nirei.

— Piggy back rides all day every day. Doesn’t matter where you are or who you’re around. As long as he’s got two arms, shoulders, and some upper body strength? Piggy back rides.

— It’s literally canon that he wears shorts in the winter. Do with that what you will.

— Gym couple gym couple gym couple!! Instagram and TikTok love them some of you two. You set weight-lifting goals together.

— Unstoppable Push and Immovable Force-coded.

— Most definitely asked what your aesthetic and virtue was when he first met you.

— You and him are often called the parents of the group because he’s the oldest first year.

— Intertwines his legs with yours when hand-holding isn’t an option.

— Gives you his bandanas after he’s washed them because he thinks they make you look so cute.

— His wallpaper is his arm wrapped around your waist in the gym mirror after a difficult workout.

— Don’t get hurt in a fight, please. He knows you can take care of yourself but that man is a brawler-coded fighter so pray for whoever managed to catch you off guard.

— He knows how to rollerskate so he’ll take you to roller skating rinks as dates! The rinks that he picks out always have the best food too.

— He canonically wears shorts in the winter, but sometimes he does to purposefully annoy you or get your attention. It works, but he’s being adorably stupid.

— I personally think that he would have you saved as your nickname, but it a cutesy way. He doesn’t see the point in making it elaborate when he can show you how much he loves you in real life.

— Is also a manhandler but most of the time it’s not on purpose. He’s just a very excited overgrown puppy man and sometimes he can’t tone it down, give my baby a break, okay?

— Charm Bracelets!! Whenever he works out, he takes them off because he will feel the absolute worst if they break. You will not be able to console him.

— He smells like tropical fruit by the way. It’s very pleasant, he blushes every time you tell him you smell good.

— Is also an avid sidewalk rule follower. In public, he’ll put one arm around your shoulders.

— Eventually the both of you get manipedi’s together because what’s the point of him having his dogs out all the time if his toes aren’t done?

— He is a TDI junkie and absolutely believes the theory that Chris MClain slowly loses his sanity throughout the show, and that Izzy was actually raised in the forest where Camp Wawanaka resided. You have heard and witnessed enough rants for several lifetimes.

— Is a huge fan of the goth duo from The Ridonculous Race because they apparently remind him of Suo because of how nonchalant he is. You cackled when he first told you.

— SUGESHITA KYOTARO

— If I’m going to be honest, him and Sakura are in the same boat in the sense that they do not know how to boyfriend.

— But it goes a little like this.

— He’s touch starved to no end so you have to fo at your own pace with him. Sometimes he’ll lean in, sometimes he’ll stand away at a certain radius. He loves you, you just gotta be patient.

— He doesn’t have preferences for anything, as stated in canon, so you often take him out so you can find his likes and dislikes and his absolutely no-go’s whatsoever.

— He, like Tsuge, will not save you as anything really special or cutesy in his phone because that’s what you have him in real life for.

— He fell in love with you by realizing that he gave more of a shit if you got hurt while fighting than the rest of the first years, Anzai included.

— Remember when I said that Nirei should be a licensed hairstylist? Well, Sugeshita over here might as well be the god of anything that has to do with hair.

— He has matching hair accessories with you too. It’s subtle, but he likes it that way. It makes him happy.

— Umemiya is practically his dad, just know that Umemiya approves.

— Only lets you play around in his hair. He does NOT play about his hair, lemme tell you that right now. It’s a sign of trust.

— Speaking of fighting, he prefers protecting you than to you fighting with him or beside him. He knows it’s somewhat wrong, because you’re not a member of Bofurin for nothing, but he has enough confidence in himself to protect you.

— It also makes him feel better about being a boyfriend, he doesn’t want to let you down in any way, shape, or form.

— You paid for his hair treatment once for his birthday and he actually almost cried.

— He is saved in your phone as “Kyo 🩷”, yes, he did lash out but it was very much adorable.

— Bought the both of you those matching Pandora puzzle necklaces. He flicks it at people in fights to assert dominance. He fiddles with it a lot with soft expressions. He loves you a lot, okay?

— On that note, sometimes the both of you absentmindedly flick your pendants at the same time as a way to say “yes, they’re mine, and yes, we will both beat your ass” on some telepathy thing.

— You took him out shopping till you dropped for his birthday and he almost cried in the middle of the restaurant.

— Lets you style his hair all the time. Half up-half downs, full ponytails, braid backs, and very rarely, he’ll let you curl his ends.

— He’s besties with the other first years because you pushed him to get some social interaction in. However, he’s an introvert and antisocial at heart so you know his social battery can only take so much.

— Matching hoodies. That’s all.

— His wallpaper is you in one of his graphic hoodies. He was super-duper happy about it. He really is a softie at heart.

— Doesn’t like traditional stuff all that much so instead of a regular date at a restaurant for Valentine’s, he did a rooftop date.

— “Why do I have to be like everyone else? I’m gonna be different.” - What he told Tsubakino.

— Is a sucker for bear hugs. Please bear hug him, he will melt like chocolate.

— Loves getting his hair brushed. Please do it for him. He’ll melt even more.

— He’s a biter. He bites to show love. He’s a chewer. Let him chew.

— Obsessed with self-care so he’ll make days for the both of you to do it together. Sometimes it’ll even be a date, especially when both of your individual products and the products you share are almost finished.

© solaarbeeam 2024.

[allaboutmaki]

with grain // without grain

[alistair-blackwood]

MoMM Update! - What to heck?

Hello, everyone! Unfortunately, Chapter 2 is still under works– the hiatus we mentioned back in our first update post has arrived and MoMM has to take a bit of a backseat for now. I was definitely overzealous in flinging around posting dates the way I did, and I apologize for that; I’d hate to have inflicted any unnecessary disappointment. I promise to practice more reservation in the future!

In the meantime, I’ve decided to go ahead and post the first half of the chapter under this cut– 6k words, 17 pages, I got it all right here for ya. [pats top of post]

Enjoy!

THE MONSTER OF MAGNUS MANOR

CHAPTER 2

THE ESTATE

(Chapter 1 here!)

Martin’s dreams were murky things, cut to the clop of fading hoofbeats and a pair of frightened eyes– eyes that kept locking with his own as the world faded in and out. At some point they’d manifested fully into a man– he was saying something, a string of urgent, unintelligible words that blistered the air around them.

“–tay with me, don’t– no, no, no, no–”

Martin’s vision greyed out before he could make out the rest.

When he resurfaced,  he was lying in a … a bed? Was … this the castle infirmary–? No, he didn’t think even Lord Barclay’s mattress was this comfortable. And the rock slab cots lining the servants’ infirmary didn’t have four poster canopies, either …

Strange dream. Everything wobbled, and grew dark again.

And then he was blinking awake. The bed and its canopy were still there, as lavish as they’d been in his dream. 

“Are you awake properly, this time?”

The unfamiliar voice had Martin lurching upright. Pain zinged through his skull; he groaned, pressing a hand to one eye.

“I don’t know,” he breathed. “I-I guess so?”

The man sitting beside him let out a slow breath, some of the stiffness unwinding from his posture. “You’ve had a few false starts,” he explained. “Understandable, given your head injury.”

Head injury. The events from earlier came rushing back to him– Martin’s vision was still swimming, but he recognised this man, or the colour of his eyes, at least. They were the same shade of brown as the mysterious figure from the fog. He’d since pulled back the hood of his cloak, revealing dark skin marred with pockmarks on one side of his fine-boned face. His hair had been tied up in a silvering bird’s nest of a bun, and a few thin strands had fallen to brush the shoulders of a richly embroidered vest.

Martin tallied it all up: posh manner, fine clothes, the thin, borderline regal cut of his face. Despite the incongruity of his scars and disheveled hair, the facts pointed to one thing– this had to be the lord of that mysterious estate.

A mysterious estate he was now inside, with an injury that had stars dancing before his eyes. “How–” Martin started, then paused to steady his breathing. “How long was I out?”

“Not long.” The man pulled an ornate pocket watch from his vest pocket, squinting. “It’s about five o’clock.”

“In the afternoon?”

“Does it look like five o’clock in the morning to you?” the man demanded, gesturing to the window. He was right; a weak orange sunset had begun staining the sky, casting dark shadows from the treeline over the estate’s grounds.

“No.” The word had been torn from Martin’s mouth with a burst of horror. He scrambled for the sheets, startling a noise from his host.

“What on earth do you think you’re doing?”

Martin wasn’t listening; the image of Lord Barclay’s cold eyes as he told him, in unequivocal terms, that he was sacked had sent a low, buzzing static through his ears. “I’m sorry, thank you for taking me in, but I need t– I need to–” He had to get back– for his mum, if nothing else. Oh, God, if he lost this job now …

“What you need is to lie back down.” Martin’s bare foot had scarcely touched the floor before the man rose to his feet, thrusting a hand against his chest. “Didn’t you hear what I said? You’ve been concussed.”

Martin was unceremoniously shoved back down. He could’ve fought back– the stranger’s wrists were stick-thin where they stuck out past the sleeves of his tunic, and Martin wasn’t exactly small– but the sudden motion sent a wave of dizziness crashing over him, and Martin couldn’t summon the strength for it.

“Let me make one thing perfectly clear,” the man said, eyes fierce. “In your current state, you’ll collapse before you ever make it out of this forest. Is that what you want?”

The words hung in the air between them. Martin swallowed, shaking his head.

“Then lie down.”

Cowed, Martin sank back into the mattress. Once it was clear he wasn’t struggling, the man relaxed, withdrawing his hand from Martin’s chest.

“Thank you,” he said, sitting back down. Then his shoulders sagged. “I … apologise. I’m sure you have somewhere important to be, and you’ve been hurt as a direct result of my actions. Please believe me when I say this was not my intention.”

A heavy note of guilt rang through his voice, and Martin’s chest panged with instinctive sympathy. “I-it’s fine. It was just an accident.”

If anything, the grim set of his host’s mouth worsened. “I should also warn you– your horse ran off. I tried looking for her after bringing you here, but she doesn’t appear to be in the area.”

Oh God, Phillipa. “… she’s resourceful,” Martin said, but it was much weaker this time. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s found her way back home already.“ 

The stranger kept his gaze trained on his hands. “ … I– yes, of course. I’m sure you have nothing to worry about.” Abruptly, he stood once more. “I assume you’re hungry? Now that you’re awake, I can bring you something to eat.”

Martin jumped. “Oh, uh.” It would have been a full day since he’d last eaten, by now. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep anything down. Based on the strange intensity in the man’s eyes, though, only one correct answer existed. “Y-yes, I– um, thank you. Actually some– some tea would be nice?”

A single, sharp nod was his only response; the man turned on his heel, making a beeline for the door. 

Martin held out a hand before he could stop himself. “Wait– wait.”

The man turned, arching one brow, and heat washed over Martin’s face. He hadn’t actually had anything important to say, but they hadn’t even exchanged names.

“Sorry, I just … wanted to thank you. For– for taking me in.” He cleared his throat. “My name is Martin, by the way. Martin Blackwood.”

“A … pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Blackwood.”

Martin flushed. "Oh– just Martin is fine. Um … c-can I ask for your name?” 

Silence stretched taffy-thin between them as his host studied him, expression unreadable. Martin’s breath stilled in his lungs– was he being measured up? Found wanting somehow? He’d only asked for a name–

“Jon.”

Martin stiffened, but with a snap of his cloak, the man vanished, closing the door behind him.

Jon.

Martin wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting, but it hadn’t been that. Jon. It was so … common. Approachable, for such an unapproachable man. Perhaps it was a family name.

Musings about Jon’s name could only distract him for so long, however, with his worst case scenario waiting for him back in the real world. Barclay would make him beg if he wanted to continue working in the castle, especially after last night’s disaster. 

Martin dropped his head in his hands. He was as good as sacked.

Distraction. He needed a good distraction. Anything to take his mind off agonising– not like he could fix anything confined to a bed by a stranger.

Lifting his head, he took a moment to peer around the room. It was bigger than the servants’ dormitory he shared with the others back at Barclay’s castle. To his right was an old, carved wardrobe; the desk and chair beside it had been made out of smooth mahogany. Paintings, their colours dulled by time, were hanging lopsided on some of the walls– a stark contrast to the faded wallpaper beneath them. Settled over it all was a fine layer of dust; only the chair, and the bed Martin was lying in, had been cleared of it.

Obvious disuse aside, even Lord Barclay’s accommodations weren’t this opulent. An unexpected twinge of guilt shot through Martin’s chest, as if he was doing something wrong. Stealing comfort that didn’t belong to him.

By the time Jon came back, the sunset had shifted from orange to a slow-burning red that dappled the sky. Tucked in the crook of his elbow was an unidentifiable bolt of cloth, and in his hands, a dinner tray. A silver dinner tray. “I apologise for the simplicity of the meal,” Jon said. “It’s … been some time since I’ve had the opportunity to cook.”

Had … was Jon implying that he, the lord of this house, had cooked for Martin? Martin swallowed, tearing his gaze from Jon back to the tray. Why wouldn’t the kitchen staff be making his meals?

Jon didn’t hand him the tray so much as he slid it into Martin’s lap; on it was a bowl of boiled vegetables, and next to that, a steaming cup of tea. Simple, yes, but Martin was grateful nonetheless.

“Thank you, really,” said Martin, entirely too genuine. Under the attentive eyes of his host, he shovelled a spoonful of turnip and carrot into his mouth, and started to chew. He stopped.

Jon leaned forward, poised. “How i– er, that is, I hope it’s to your satisfaction.”

Martin steeled himself and kept chewing, scrambling for a neutral expression. While the outside of the vegetables were soggy, their insides crunched against his molars, sending shudders down his spine. Underboiled, his mind supplied helpfully.

It was, perhaps, one of the worst meals he’d eaten in his life.

“It’s great,” he lied, smiling past the curdling in his stomach. Jon had made this himself, and Martin was going to die before he willingly insulted a lord to his face.

Jon released a quiet breath. “That’s … good.” He unwound the cloth draped over his forearm; it was a nightshirt and cap, made of fabric that could’ve been water for how it piled onto the sheets. “These are for you to wear to bed. You can find something to change into tomorrow in the wardrobe. Please inform me if there are any that don’t fit.” He winced. “And you’ll have to excuse me if you find anything that’s been chewed through. It’s impossible, keeping the moths out this time of year.”

“Tha– thank you?”

“You, ah,” Jon hesitated, before clearing his throat. “Seeing you’re here because of me, you’re welcome to stay until you’ve made a full recovery.” His voice grew guarded. “My only stipulation is that you remain in your rooms at night.”

Martin paused.

It wasn’t that unusual of a request– Martin was a stranger, of course Jon didn’t want him wandering about at night. No, what snagged Martin’s attention was the faint, nervous hitch of his shoulders as he said it.

“O-of course.” Martin’s throat bobbed. “Is it– can I ask why?”

Jon’s eyes narrowed. "I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

Oh, hell. “Sorry, sorry, you’re right. I-it’s just, I don’t know …” kind of strange? But the impatient twist of Jon’s mouth stopped him cold.

The silence dragged, then Jon crossed his arms. “I have a dog.”

“A … dog?”

“Yes. Big, vicious thing. He … patrols the manor at night– and he’s not partial to strangers.”

Oh. Well, that … that made sense, didn’t it? Still odd, though– Barclay had a whole team of hunting dogs, and none of them were allowed to wander the grounds without supervision. They weren’t pets, and they certainly weren’t guards. It appeared this one was, though.

“What’s his name?” Martin asked, before he could think better of it.

“What?”

“The dog.” Martin held up his hands in apology. “Sorry, it’s just, I love dogs. My neighbors had one when I was a kid. Ol’ Frankie.”

Jon’s eyes narrowed even further. “John.”

 “… John.”

“Yes.”

“John … the dog?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“You named the dog after yourself?”

The look Jon shot him was equal parts baffled and incredulous, as if he were ludicrous for asking. “I came into possession of the dog after it received its name. And, besides, it’s John, spelled with an H.”

“I … see.” Martin didn’t see. “Obviously.” It had not been obvious.

Jon glowered, daring him to continue, then reached into his pocket. “One last thing. I noticed … well, here.” With an oddly stiff motion, he held out a small glass jar of salve. “For your hands. It would be irresponsible of me, as your host, to let them ulcerate unchecked.”

Startled, Martin glanced down at his hands– they were still covered in blisters from scrubbing last night’s mountain of dishes. He’d forgotten about them in all the chaos.

“Th-thanks,” he said, accepting the jar.

Clearing his throat, Jon stepped back. “I’ll let you finish your meal. You can expect me tomorrow morning with breakfast.” One hand on the door, he hesitated, then added in a soft undertone, “Get some rest.”

Jon was gone before Martin could answer. He was alone once again.

Unscrewing the lid of the jar, Martin gave the ointment an experimental sniff– honey and almonds. He scooped out a dollop and rubbed it into the damaged skin of his hands, sighing as it cooled the sting of his blisters. Astonishing, that Jon had noticed at all– Martin was so used to it, he would have left them to rot on his own.

He finished his dinner, half out of pragmaticism, half because he didn’t want to risk insulting his host. At least the tea was good.

Tray set aside, Martin began unbuttoning his dress shirt. What an unusual sight he must have made, passed out on the ground in formal wear. The clothes Jon had provided were silky against his skin, marred only by the must of disuse– still a luxury for a person with Martin’s background.

It wasn’t enough to distract him from the cold knot of trepidation that twisted inside his stomach. But Jon had been right; even if he had known the way, he would never make it back in his current state, especially without Phillipa. 

At the very least, things couldn’t get much worse. There was solace in that. 

Martin settled back against the pillows. With so many thoughts racing through his head, sleep should’ve been impossible– but the moment he closed his eyes, the rest of the world slipped away.

-

“Here you are!” Martin’s eyes flew open as Charles dropped the tray into his arms. Its contents had been obscured by a covering; Martin couldn’t make heads or tails of what was inside, but whatever it was, it was heavy enough that he buckled under its weight. 

Charles winked. “Better you than me, right?”

“R-right.”

“Well, go on then. He’s hungry!”

Pulse pounding in his ears, Martin scurried into the dark hallway. None of the candles had been lit, but he knew the way by heart. His arm shook under the weight of the tray– carrying it with both hands would’ve been easier, but that wasn’t proper. And Lord Barclay was so particular about being proper …

The grand door leading into the dining hall drew closer, and a coil of apprehension burrowed into Martin’s gut. An unusual smell had started emitting from the platter– sweet and gamey, meat mixed with sugar glaze. His feet moved, relentless, and with every step, that sinking pit of dread at the core of him grew heavier.

He opened the door. The dining hall was empty, save for where Barclay sat at the head of the table. A single lit candle shone down on the dozens of empty plates surrounding him. Barclay wiped his mouth with a pristine napkin, and waved Martin forward.

Martin’s hands were trembling. He placed the tray on the table in front of Barclay, in between the scattered, stained plates. At his Lord’s signal, he removed the covering with as much flourish as he could.

It was empty.

The hairs on the back of Martin’s neck stood on end. Run, his instincts screamed. Get away, now! 

Barclay looked up at him, green eyes glittering dangerously. “Well?”

Martin started– at some point he’d been lowered into a chair. In ginger increments, he leaned over until his head was resting against the cool metal plate, each shuddering breath fogging its silver coating. Barclay reached for his utensils; Martin squeezed his eyes shut, praying that, for once, Barclay wouldn’t start with–

“Eyes open.”

Swallowing, Martin obediently pried them back open. The fork hovered out-of-focus, brushing his eyelashes. 

Somewhere beyond Barclay’s hall, a voice brushed against the edges of his hearing. 

“–Hello?”

The fork plunged down–

-

Martin jolted awake, his hair drenched in sweat. Sunlight was pouring in through the window, illuminating swathes of dust motes floating through each beam. It must have been around mid-morning. Reflexive panic welled in the back of his throat (late, oh God, he was so incredibly late) before the events of yesterday came back to him. The panic slipped away, dulled with leaden resignation.

Sleeping in was nice, at least; when was the last time he’d been this indulgent? Giving in to the mattress’ siren’s call was tempting– he could have slept longer, waited until Jon came to wake him up. But while the dreams’ contents had slipped away faster than he could recall, their weight sat heavy on the back of his tongue. He wasn’t particularly interested in returning.

Taking a chance, he tossed aside his blanket and slid onto his feet. His heart lifted– had he recovered enough to make it back to the castle?

The world spun on its axis, and Martin caught himself against the wooden bed poster before he collapsed. 

Ah. As if he could be so lucky.

With one hand against the wall for support, Martin shuffled his way over to the wardrobe. The hinges creaked as he opened it– Lord, everything here needed a good cleaning. He’d have been tanned for letting a room fall into this much disrepair on Griffiths’ watch. Hopefully, the clothes would be in better–

Martin’s mind blanked. The clothes were indeed in better shape, but the options inside were … far more expensive than he was used to wearing. Was Jon not worried about Martin ruining them? Although they must’ve belonged to someone else– these were all too big for Jon. Whoever they belonged to, Martin prayed they wouldn’t mind him wearing their clothes.

He selected the plainest tunic and trousers he could find among the ornate, embroidered lot. None of them had moth holes, at least; Jon would be happy to hear that.

Speaking of his mysterious host …

As soon as he was confident he could walk without falling over, Martin opened the door to the hallway, glancing out into the hall. No dog; that was a good sign. Jon had mentioned bringing breakfast– the smartest idea was for Martin to wait inside his room, but his curiosity was burning. What did the estate of such an eccentric lord look like, anyway?

Surely he could risk a quick look around before Jon arrived.

Martin closed the door behind him with a gentle click, eyes roving over the hallway.

It appeared that the estate of a lord like Jon looked incredibly dusty.

Martin dragged an experimental finger over the surface of a nearby windowpane; it came back smeared with grime. Griffiths would’ve died on the spot– what on earth was Jon’s staff doing? Taking advantage of Jon’s generosity and shirking their responsibilities?

He picked a direction at random and began to walk, keeping one eye peeled for someone who could point him in a useful direction. This section of the manor appeared to have been functionally abandoned, though; perhaps Jon had wanted to ensure Martin’s privacy, although that seemed like an unnecessary effort.

By the time he reached what must have been the grand staircase of a foyer, he still hadn’t encountered another living being. Martin faltered, eyes grazing over the crusted windows, before dipping to linger on an old, broken gramophone at the bottom floor.

Where was everybody?

He continued trailing through the manor, more apprehensive now. Each step brought with it the sense he was a misplaced ghost; alone and drifting, untethered from reality. The layout of the hallways had a labyrinthian element to their design– a wise man would have turned back at risk of becoming lost, but … 

It was as if someone had wrapped a string around his joints, tugging his feet forward. Martin couldn’t have turned back even if he’d wanted to.

His footsteps echoed through the empty corridors, crescendoing until they threatened to drive knives into his eardrums. No other noise penetrated the corridors; even the milky light filtering through the manor’s windows couldn’t reach him. The outside world had been choked off, as effectively as it had in the fog.

Panic swelled inside his lungs. Was there really nobody here? In a desperate bid, Martin threw open the first door to his left, hoping someone, anyone, would be on the other side.

Instead, he found the library. 

Stumbling backwards, his jaw went slack.

Martin had only seen two libraries in his life: the small, tattered bookshelf in the back of his mother’s church, and Lord Barclay’s personal collection– although the servants couldn’t make any selections for themselves. An entire room full of books, Martin had assumed it was among the largest collections of its kind.

He’d been wrong.

What stood before of him now were two stories worth of wall-to-wall bookshelves, brimming with texts and tomes in exquisite leather bindings. The scent of old parchment tickled Martin’s nose, sending him back to that dusty corner of the church, escaping through tattered parables and hymns.

Entranced, Martin stepped into the enormous room, leaving the door hanging open behind him. Giddy compulsion had him plucking out the first book he laid eyes on. A cookbook; although the language inside was unfamiliar, every page had been filled with mouthwatering illustrations. He selected another book at random: this time, a book of astronomy. And after that, a love story. Martin fought the urge to laugh, breathless. Just how many different books did Jon have?

Tucking all three in the crook of his arm, he continued down the aisle, reverent fingers brushing over each spine as he passed. A vast majority of them had been left untouched; preserved, perhaps, to maintain the appearance of esteem. That was the only reason Barclay ever added to his works. But occasionally, he’d come across a book with frayed pages, its spine threadbare.

Not mishandled, though. None of the pages had been dogeared, or the bindings broken. No, these carried the air of a book well-loved, read so many times over the years they’d been worn down to the glue. Martin took those with him as well, adding them to the growing collection in his arms.

When the first throbs of a sharp ache began pulsing at the back of his head, Martin ignored it. He couldn’t just leave, not with so much begging for his attention. When would he ever come across an opportunity to browse through a collection like this again? No, he had to make the most of it, while he still could.

But as Martin reached the far corner of the library, he slowed. A door was tucked away here, in a corner where no sunlight reached. It was nondescript, out of place in its simplicity– and yet, something about it drew Martin closer. Cool air seeped from between the door’s cracks, beckoning his curiosity.

His fingers grazed the brass handle–

“Don’t touch that.”

Martin yelped, books crashing to the ground.

Jon was standing at the end of the aisle with eyes like chips of ice. Heat bloomed across Martin’s face. This hadn’t been how he’d planned to encounter his host again: caught like a child sneaking sweets from the pantry.

“Sorry,” he stammered, scrambling to scoop up the fallen books. God, he’d dropped them. “I-I wasn’t– I didn’t mean to–”

“How many times do I have to say the word concussed before it sinks in?” With a sigh, Jon bent over to pick up the remaining books, depositing them on a random bookshelf before swiping the rest from Martin’s hands. Martin flinched, and the lines around Jon’s mouth deepened. "You’re in no condition to be wandering, let alone nosing around into places you shouldn’t.”

“I– I wasn’t trying to, to snoop or anything–”

“Really.” Jon shot a cool, pointed glance at the door. The flush crawled down to Martin’s neck, prickling in time with his erratic pulse. 

“Sorry,” he said again, lamely. “I really didn’t mean to– I-I was just … curious.”

“Curious. Of course.” With a sigh, Jon dropped the remaining books into another untidy stack, clapping dust off his hands. “I’ll show you back to your rooms– breakfast is waiting for you.”

Jon shouldered his way back out of the aisle, leaving Martin no choice but to follow. He was too embarrassed to protest even if he wanted to, but– his eyes lingered on the stack of books as they passed, mournful. It would have been nice to read at least one.

Jon urged him back into bed as soon as they reached Martin’s rooms, then turned to the breakfast tray he’d left on the desk. Martin fought down the growing dread at what Jon could have possibly prepared for this morning– but when Jon placed the tray on the bed, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Bread, butter, and a bowl of chestnuts. Absolutely no risk of anything overboiled here. And the bread was fresh, too– delicate wisps of steam rose to curl in the dusty air. Had Jon made this himself as well? It had come out better than the first meal, that was certain.

“Thank you,” Martin mumbled, picking up the bread knife to smear butter over a slice. 

Jon’s frosty expression didn’t change. "Why in the world did– I can’t imagine what possessed you to roam around this morning. Do you have any idea what I experienced when I found you gone?”

A spasm of guilt tangled in Martin’s gut. “S-sorry. I just … wanted to look around, a little.”

“There’s nothing worth looking at. This place may as well be a mausoleum.” 

Martin’s head whipped up. "You can’t mean that.”

A wry silence.

“Seriously? But your– your library is amazing! I’ve honestly never seen anything like it.”

“Th– the library?” Some of the severity in Jon’s expression vanished; he blinked, opening and closing his mouth. “ … Oh. Well, thank you, I suppose. But I’m, ah … I’m not the owner of that collection.” A shy, almost pleased note crept into his voice. “I did help retrieve a few of the rarer tomes, however. ” 

Slice of bread halfway to his mouth, Martin paused. “You … but I thought …?” 

One arched brow crept toward Jon’s hairline. “You thought … ?” 

“I’m sorry, but– aren’t you the lord of this place?” 

“No.”

Martin took a moment to process this sudden collapse of his mental image for Jon. “But then who … why are you …?”

For someone so young, Jon had far too much stress lining his face. “It’s … complicated. You could say I inherited this place from its previous owner.” 

“Your father?”

“No,” Jon said, blanching. Then, without warning, he pitched forward. “I’ve been wondering if you’ll entertain a question from me.” 

Martin jolted, taken aback by the sudden shift in conversation. “Y-yes?” 

Jon smoothed a hand over one of his cuffs. “You were dressed too nicely to be working in someplace like a smithy. But your hands … I assume you’re a labourer of some kind?” 

“Oh.” Flustered, Martin set down the piece of bread. Why would Jon want to know a mundane thing like that? “I’m, um, I’m a server in Lord Barclay’s estate, actually.” 

“Barclay?”  

“Yes, Lord Barclay. Lord Frederick Barclay?” Jon was still frowning. “Your Lord. Your Lord, if you live in this region.”

“You really expect me to know the name of every noble that goes parading themselves around these parts like an arsehole?”

“I-I … suppose not?” Martin didn’t understand how Jon couldn’t know, though. What about his taxes? “H-how about you?” 

“Pardon?” 

“Well, you said the library wasn’t yours, right? And … you said you’re not the lord of the estate, yeah?” 

“In a legal sense, no.” 

Well that was an interesting answer, but Martin was learning not to ask for elaboration. “So, what do you … do?” 

Jon scowled. “I don’t see why it matters.”

“S-sorry.” 

“You apologise a great deal, you’re aware of this?”

“S–” Martin bit it back just in time, and Jon blew out a haggard, long-suffering sigh. 

“But I suppose it’s only a fair trade. If you really must know, I was – am, I suppose – the Head Archivist of this estate.”

Martin’s brows flew up– Head Archivist? That had to be rather prestigious. Did Barclay have a similar role anywhere present in his staff? The only thing Martin could think of that compared was … “So, like a librarian?”

“Not like a librarian.” But Jon’s mouth twitched. “I suppose there is some overlap. It was more than just filing books and keeping things tidy, though. We were also researchers.”

Martin perked up. “We?”

“… Yes. I … I did have a team working alongside me, previously. We researched unusual encounters, on behalf of our patron.”

“What kind of unusual encounters?” Fascinated, Martin leaned forward. “You mean like, like love affairs?”

“Nothing as salacious as that.” A slight smile broke out across his lips. “Although there– there was one time … ”

He stilled, trailing off. The fragile warmth that had been growing behind his eyes shuttered.

“Although … ?” Martin prompted after a beat.

Jon’s expression could’ve been carved from stone. He said nothing, shoulders hunched under some unseen burden.

A suspicion had been brewing in the back of Martin’s mind since his crawl through the manor’s hallways, and now, with Jon coiled tense as a spring in front of him, it came roaring back full force. Well, if there was ever a time for inquiries … “Can I ask you something?”

Jon huffed, and Martin winced. 

“Right. Um. I guess I just wanted to ask–” oh, how to phrase it …? “–is … is there anyone else … here?” 

Jon’s eyes lowered to rest on his hands. “No,” he said. “It’s just me. And now you, I suppose.”

And all at once, the pieces fell into place. Jon’s cooking, his nonchalance about the borrowed clothes, the dust that had settled in a thick carpet over everything Martin, or Jon himself, hadn’t touched. For the second time today Martin was left staring, dumbfounded. “… I don’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand?”

“This place is gigantic. Don’t you …” Martin glanced down at his lap, thumbing a loose thread in the duvet. “There’s really no one here?”

It was the wrong thing to say. Jon’s eyes flashed. “I don’t need your pity. Why else would I be here if I didn’t prefer it this way?”

Martin opened his mouth, but Jon stood before he could reply, stormclouds thundering in his eyes. “This has been more than enough excitement for one day– I’ll let you get some rest.”

He’d already made it to the door when Martin regained control of his voice. “Thank you for the ointment.”

Jon stopped, one hand frozen on the door’s handle. “Pardon?”

“The hand cream. It, uh, it helped. Thank you for noticing. And … and I’m sorry for … everything, I guess.”

Jon stared at him for a long moment, then lifted his chin. “Glad I could be of some service.”

The door clicked shut behind him, and Martin counted his footsteps until even their echoes faded down the hall entirely. 

It was probably for the best that he followed Jon’s instructions and got some rest. He had the gnawing sense that he was wearing out his welcome, fast.

He’d already nestled back into the mattress when a flash outside his window made him shoot back up.

Snow. Fluttering snowflakes were dancing on an invisible wind just beyond the glass. Martin rubbed his eyes– once, twice– but they were still there.

A trick of the light– it had to be. Some … half-asleep hallucination. He still had a ways to go before he was recovered, after all. Imagine– snow, at this time of year.

Putting it out of his mind, Martin pulled the duvet over him, and, with very little effort, drifted away again.

-

“–Hello?”

Martin stumbled to a halt, dinner tray in hand. What the hell was he doing? He didn’t have time to stop– there was still so much of the hallway left to go. But …

There. A door had appeared in the hall. Or had it always been there? For the life of him he couldn’t remember. Why couldn’t he remember …?

“You’re going to be late,” Charles said, somewhere off in the distance.

Late. Yes: Barclay’s dinner. He … he needed to leave. He was going to get everybody in trouble–

“–go.”

There it was again. Martin’s legs were stone; unable to move to the door, unable to move down the hallway. They had said go, right? He had to deliver Barclay’s dinner. But …

“You’re going to be late,” Mum said. Her eyes were hazy, unclear. What a wretched son he was; couldn’t even recall the colour of his own mother’s eyes …

“I’m sorry,” he said, but even he couldn’t tell who it was for.

-

Martin woke with aching arms and gummed eyes. Sunbeams were once again pouring in through his window, and this time, the accompanying disorientation faded faster.

Was it already morning? He must’ve slept right through dinner– this bloody mattress made it too easy.

And for once he was actually hungry. Properly hungry, too, without the accompanying nausea or weakness he’d grown accustomed to during his morning routine at the castle.

Today the silver tray was waiting for him on the desk– Jon had already come through this morning, likely an effort to keep him from waking, or wandering off again.

It was only as Martin was reaching for the tray that he noticed the books. Three of them, stacked on top of each other. Next to them were several pieces of folded parchment.

Martin, the letter started, with graceful, cursive handwriting, and something in Martin’s chest swooped low.

Here are some collections from the library, should you find yourself in need of entertainment. I had some difficulty choosing a recommendation, but I feel that these three have fairly universal appeal. Please take your injury into consideration, but I trust you to do what feels right for yourself.

Kinsey’s Survival on the Front Lines, especially, I find quite compelling. It’s a collection of memoirs from Kinsey’s time in war, and while a few have criticised his writing style as a bit dry, I find the contrast between his straightforwardness against the reality of war is how he’s able to make his point so clearly …

Martin read slowly, eyebrows climbing higher and higher with each word. 

The letter was five pages total, front and back. All detailing Jon’s reasoning for the selections he’d made, from their historical relevance, to his opinion on their style of prose. Was there anything in Martin’s life that he could talk about for so long? That he was so passionate about? Maybe his poetry, mediocre as it was, but not with half as much eloquence.

Buried in the text, tucked between hesitant, tentative platitudes, were Jon’s personal reasons for enjoying each book, such as I would often find myself returning to this text during my apprenticeship, and Some might consider Williamson’s humour a bit crude, but I still found it enjoyable.

Martin lingered longest on these, drinking in each tidbit with the avidity of a book-starved scholar.

The letter concluded with,

By now I’ve realised I needn’t have gone on for so long, but I’ve already spent two hours writing this, and it seems a wasted effort if I just tossed it, so … there you are. If you made it this far, anyway. Admirable, if you have.

If the choice between the three books still proves to be too much, I would suggest Sutherland’s Mythos of the Ages as a start. It’s simple, but, as I’ve mentioned, the illustrative work is astounding, and although it’s rather sentimental, I find the tales of some comfort to me. 

Jon

Martin traced the elegant swoop of the J, heart ballooning in his chest until he might burst.

Oh.

–

If you would like to be notified of MoMM news and chapter updates, please message me your user name and I will tag you in future posts. Otherwise, check out the MoMM tag on my page in order to stay up to date.

 @itspandaatsume123​ @thesmallestzita​

[fearfulkittenwrites]

Peaceful Afternoon - Family Bonding

Summary: What's the best way to calm down a bunch of crazed little bats? Apparently, a Lord of the Rings marathon.

Word Count: 2088

Notes: Hello! I'm slowly working my way to completing @3ambird​‘s batfam bingo. This is just fluff and Bruce being a good dad, because we're all in need of some comfort. Enjoy!

Bruce stepped into his home with an already loosened tie and his blazer in hands, handing it to Alfred as soon as he saw the man.

“Rough day in the office, sir?” The butler asks as he gently flattens and hangs the clothing piece on the coat rack at the entrance lounge.

“Yes.” He sighed, rubbing his temples “Is there any chance you could bring me some of your tea? I feel a headache coming.”

“A warm cup of tea will be coming right up, master Wayne.”

“Thank you Alfred.” He smiles at the man “I’ll be in the TV lounge.”

“Sir, I must warn you that the kids are watching TV at the moment.” Alfred says.

“Oh?” Bruce raises an eyebrow “Are they being too loud?”

Alfred thinks for a moment.

“They are unusually quiet sir.” He answers “I’d be careful around them.”

“Well,” The man tilts his head to the side “I’ll check on them. If I’m no longer there, then I’ll be in my room.”

“Very well master Wayne.” Alfred smiles “It should only take a moment.”

Bruce walks slowly to the TV lounge, examining all of his home’s details on the way ; the complicated patterns on the wallpaper, the ripples of the carpets, the harshness of the fabrics the curtains were made of. Removing his tie completely, he rolls it around his fingers carefully and sticks it in his pockets, right before walking into the room he’d been looking for. He wasn’t sure on what he was expecting to see, but the scene in front of him had him pleasantly surprised.

Dick sat at the left corner of the couch, being the one closest to the door, with Duke sitting on the ground directly in front of him, eyes closed as Dick massaged his scalp and neck. Damian sat quietly next to his oldest brother, sketching a new art piece. Cass sat by the youngest’s side, sharing a blanket and cuddling up with Tim. Jason, who was also sitting on the floor, had Tim’s legs thrown over his shoulders as he squeezed his brother’s calves lightly, eyes glued on the TV.

“Hey B.” Dick smiled at him softly and Duke opened his eyes to look at the man “Rough day?”

“A little.” He breathes deeply as he rubs the back of his neck “What are you kids doing?”

“Nothin’ much.” Dick spoke again “There was a Lord of The Rings marathon on TV, so we just... left it there. I think today’s been rough on everybody.”

“I see.” Bruce nods “Do you mind if I join you?” A bunch of ‘no’s and ‘go ahead’s were slightly murmured as Bruce sat down on the armchair close to Tim’s end of the couch. The man took a quick glance at the TV “Have they already-”

“Shhh.” Tim interrupts “Don’t spoil it for Cass.”

“Ah, Alright. I’m sorry.” He sets his eyes on his (unfortunately) not-so-little girl, noticing how Cass seemed a little pale “Is everything alright Cass? You seem a bit... off.”

She nods.

“Cramps.” Dick explains from across the couch, rubbing his own belly, right above his pubic bone, just to drive the point home.

“Oh.” Bruce blushes a little.

“C’mon, old man,” Jason teases, tapping his leg “Don’t get all flustered over your daughter’s period.”

“I’m not flustered, I just... didn’t mean to be invasive.” He straightens his posture.

“I don’t mind talking about it.” Cass says, with a small smile “It’s okay.”

“That’s good.” The man replies, leaning back on the armchair.

It only takes Alfred a few seconds to come in with the tea after that. All of them quickly recognize the scent of his medicinal blend, having needed it many times before.

“Headache?” Dick asks “I can give you a massage if you want to.”

“Yeah, just take my spot.” Duke offers.

“Don’t worry boys.” Bruce smiles “The tea helps enough by itself.”

“Alright. But if you change your mind...” Duke says, allowing his sentence to trail off as he relaxes into Dick’s touch once again.

Bruce can’t help but gawk at the film’s beautiful scenery. The only members of the family that didn’t care much for the movie were Damian and Duke, for different reasons. The younger boy wasn’t particularly fond of fantastic stories with surreal elements, finding them silly more often than not. Although he could stand Lord of The Rings, he never really made it through the whole thing, getting bored, distracted, or falling asleep halfway through it.

Duke had much milder feelings. He had watched it once and that was enough. He didn’t see any reason to rewatch such a long movie. However, Duke didn’t seem to hate the idea of having it on while he received head scratches and massages from his cuddly brothers. Bruce smiled to himself at that, looking at how Dick and him got along well, at least in moments like this.

His eyes wandered back to Cass. She seemed endlessly entertained by the movie, sometimes whispering questions about the plot to one of her brothers. She was hugging one of Tim’s arms, head resting on his shoulder. He occasionally turned around to nuzzle his face into her hair. The teen had a habit of doing that to just about anyone he felt comfortable enough to touch when given the chance.

Jason seemed equally entertained. He loved a good story, whether it came in the form of a book, a movie or a TV show. Bruce noticed that whenever he was having a hard time he revisited his favorites, seeking the comfort of predictability, so it made sense that he was watching this today, after Dick’s statement. Jason counted Tim’s toes mindlessly, giving each of them a light squeeze before moving on to the next, starting it all over again once he reached both of his pinkies.

Bruce’s eyes set on his oldest son again. His little circus boy, Dick. Noticing how he had grown into a good man made his heart swell with joy, even if the emotion came with a prick of pain. His little boy, all grown up, caring for his younger siblings. Bruce couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have found them. How lucky he was for having such an amazing family, how lucky he was that they had accepted him as their father.

Bruce was sure he was the happiest man alive. His heart was filled with love, to the point where it spilled out through his eyes, getting Dick’s attention.

“You big sap.” He mouthed at the man, no sound coming out through his lips. Bruce wiped a lonely tear away from his face with a smile, bringing his attention back to the movie. Dick knew him too well by now.

Bruce pressed his hands together under his chin, trying to hide the love that insisted on falling down his cheeks.

Eventually, the man dozed off in the middle of the first movie. He woke up when they were halfway through the second, looking at his watch and being taken aback by the time. He looked around, noticing that Damian was now asleep on Dick’s lap and Duke had brought out his computer, sitting at the armchair opposed to Bruce’s, brow furrowed in concentration. Jason was still on the floor, eyes fixed on the TV, but had moved on from Tim’s feet, using his limited knowledge on pressure points to help with Cass’ cramps, carefully pressing her feet while both of them paid attention to the movie. Tim had also fallen asleep, head hanging back on the couch and one arm around his sister’s shoulders.

Bruce checked the watch again, biting the inside of his lips. They should be getting ready for patrol by now and yet... he didn’t feel like it was fair to pull his kids away from this moment of tranquility. Dick’s eyes met his.

“It’s okay.” His son reassured him in a whisper.

“No.” Bruce says in a soft tone “You guys take the night off. I’ll call up Batwoman and Spoiler, we should be able to cover enough ground if Oracle is able to put in a little extra work.”

“B, it’s okay, I’ll go with you.” Dick replies, voice still quiet so as not to disturb the kid sleeping with his head on his lap “I’ll just tuck Dami in and we can go.”

“No, please.” Bruce stands up “This is clearly a rare moment. You need to enjoy it Dick. We’ll be fine.”

“B,” Dick insists “I need this just as much as you do.”

“Are you talking about patrol or...”

“Both.” Dick looks up at him “I’m tagging along, whether you want me there or not.”

“Alright then.” Bruce nods.

“Great.” Dick smiles “Now let’s take this sleepy boy to his bed.”

Slowly, he slips out from under Damian, carefully picking him up.

“Hmn don’t... I can walk...” Damian murmurs, face already buried in Dick’s neck.

“I’m sure you can.” Dick chuckled, adjusting the boy’s weight, one hand around his brother's waist and the other under his thighs, supporting him. The kid wrapped his arms around his brother’s neck lazily, with a weak and loose grip, almost falling asleep again in his oldest brother’s hands.

That wasn’t lost on Bruce’s eyes, who walked behind them, hands in his pockets. The man opens the door for his kids, waiting patiently next to the bed as Dick removes Damian’s shoes and pulls the blankets over his body. Both of them pressed a quick kiss to the boy’s forehead before walking out of the bedroom.

“Damian has really warmed up to you, hasn’t he?” Bruce starts.

“I guess so.” Dick shrugs, smiling at the ground “He’s a good kid, he’s just been through a lot. I try to remind him he doesn’t have to do things by himself all the time anymore. That he can lean on us.”

“That seems to be working.” Bruce smiles at his son, who retributed the look with some uncertainty “Hey, I mean it.”

“I know you do, it’s just...” Dick sighs “Sometimes all of this can feel... a little hopeless.”

“I can understand that.” He looks at his son. Bruce can understand that so well “But it’s in the little things, you know? Like right now,” He keeps going, lookin at his own shoes as they make a turn on the manor’s endless hallways “The way Damian allowed you to carry him, that was...” Bruce takes a deep breath, shaking his head slightly “He is being vulnerable around you.”

“You think so?” Dick asked, biting the inside of his lips.

“I know so. His arms,” Bruce says “When he threw them around your neck, he didn’t do so to hold on or to balance himself. Damian trusted you to hold him, and simply relaxed into your grip.”

Dick raised his eyebrows as he walked through the office’s door.

“You notice a lot of details.” Dick smiled.

“What can I say? I can’t turn the detective skills off.” He chuckles, joined by Dick’s snort “I really wish I could be more like you to him.” He stops walking.

“What are you talking about, B?” Dick frowns a little.

“I wish I knew how to be... caring.” Bruce sighs “I have no clue on how you ended up as good at it as you are today, considering… well, everything. But I’m glad you did. At least they have someone who knows how to... hold them. I’m sorry that I couldn’t do the same for you.”

Dick swallows.

“Hey, um, don’t beat yourself up over this kind of thing, okay?” He lightly touches his father’s arm “You are caring Bruce. You did hold me.” He pursed his lips. Both of them had teary eyes now.

“Not like I should have.”

“No one’s perfect. But you were there when I needed you, and that’s what counts.”

“Stop.” Bruce says, biting the insides of his mouth so hard he could taste blood “Stop... making excuses for me, Dick. I’m... I’m apologizing.” He takes in a deep breath “I know that all the damage I may have caused you won’t magically go away because I recognize that it’s there, but for what’s worth, I’ll try to do better. To be better for you.”

Suddenly, Dick surges forward, wrapping his arms around Bruce. As they hugged, Bruce could feel his son crying.

“Thank you.” Dick whispers “Thank you. I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son.” Bruce whispers back, turning his head to plant a kiss on his cheek “So much.”

Hey! If you got here, please consider reblogging. It would mean the world to me. Also, if you’d like to be tagged in future works, just shoot me a message.

Take care friend!

[walksinlatewithcoffee]

“I was traumatized by a so-called friend who used my interests against me so I can’t let anyone know I have Interests check!”

Anyway funny story my lock screen is this like old school tumblr text and image collage that I found on google and I chose it cause it reminds me of Tubbo. It’s got all sorts of corny inspirational messages and little drawings of bees and the whole thing is yellow.

Like that’s my idea of having a mcyt wallpaper on my phone. A random result from googling “tumblr phone wallpaper” that just so happened to be bee themed. And even then I’m terrified of someone noticing that it’s bee themed and noticing that my home screen wallpaper is Pokémon themed (I’m was supposed to be a placeholder but I’m kinda vibing with it, it’s the gen 3 intro screen with the bikes but turned into a full rectangle and it’s actually cool I might keep it for a while) and connect the dots that they’re probably both fandom related and hhhhhh

So yeah just a tiny vent about the Mortifying Ordeal of Being Known and my trauma from ninth grade when my so called best friend found my ffnet account and cyber bullied me off the website then blamed it on my other best friend. I never told either of them my account name or what the story was about, just that I was writing something. I still to this day don’t know how she knew it was me cause I used a fake name n everything.

I stopped writing completely for like a whole year. Not fanfiction, not original fiction, not poetry, nothing.

Dear lord the thought of someone finding out I watch Minecraft streamers I think I’d die. Even though I know for a fact none of my current friends would even care much less try to pull shit but... idk fandom stuff just Hits Deep. It’s the adhd man.

In high school found a DS Zelda game in a parking lot and threw it away cause I associated the franchise so strongly with someone I was friends with in middle school who also kinda fucked my whole life up to the point where none of that friend group can remember anything from middle school. It’s just a repressed blur. I thought I’d be cursed if I kept anything that reminded me of her.

I couldn’t think about two of my favorite anime for like a year cause the girl that got blamed for the cyber bullying made me move in with her for college, got me to share my favorite shows with her cause she was my only friend for a long while, then destroyed our friendship over stupid shit! Then she made all our mutual friends stop talking to me, then went so far as to track down my younger friends in our hometown and try to make them drop me too.

Luckily they didn’t cause they’re not stupid and they know damn well all the nerdy/geeky/etc. girls in my graduating class were manipulative assholes who preyed on my people-pleasing nature and that none of them could be trusted.

But still. I genuinely hate sharing my interests with people. I hate talking about fandom stuff with people.

But I love talking about fandom stuff with people. I miss getting to talk about fire emblem with some of my community college friends who got me into it in the first place (transferred to the school in my hometown, things were better there) and DnD is always fun with my group.

I even found someone who likes the same cringe anime I do, the sort you don’t tell ANYBODY about in 2020.

And now all I wanna do is tell everyone I know about mcyt. But I can’t. All the joy of telling people about it would be immediately crushed by fear and regret.

[gaylotusthatexists]

rises the moon - part five

Pairings: parental moxiety, eventual intrulogical, possibly others but haven’t yet decided

Summary: After running away from home, Virgil find the Forest, where he is appointed as the new Lord of Spring. 

Trigger Warnings: none that I can thing of but please let me know

Word Count: 1.5k

Taglist: @theloveliestsweetspongy​ 

A/N: hey, just a note, i've gone back and changed daemon's name to janus bc. that is better for me ye thank you hope you enjoy~​

previous || next || ao3

days fade into a watercolour blur

Virgil woke up in an unfamiliar room, in an unfamiliar bed, with somewhat familiar people standing at the end. For a moment, he panicked, going to hide under the covers, before he realised what was going on.

He was in some weird forest, and had fallen asleep by a lake, and must have been moved into a bedroom somewhere. When he emerged from the covers, whoever had been standing at the end of the bed was gone. Virgil sat up, glancing around the room.

He was in a double bed, with a warm, orange quilt, and the softest pillows he'd ever felt. The room was... nice, he supposed. The wallpaper was covered in leaves, with various paintings of different people hung up. A small lamp sat on the bedside table besides him, with a cup of tea placed underneath. He picked the tea up, beginning to drink it - it was the same tea as the day before. Beautiful, perfect, Virgil immediately felt a million times calmer.

Ah. He must have been in Patton's house. That was Patton's tea, right? Unless all tea here tasted like that. Which, either way, Virgil wasn't complaining. He pushed the covers off him and got out of bed, noticing his backpack sitting the corner. He rushed over towards it, picking it up and throwing onto the bed before opening it and taking out a change of clothes. He was still wearing the clothes he had on yesterday, or two days ago maybe - he wasn't actually sure how long it had been.

His new clothes weren't that different from the last, just a slightly different shade of purple for a shirt and a clean pair of black, ripped jeans, with the same hoodie as before over the top. He sat back on the bed, grabbing a cereal bar out of his bag and beginning to eat.

There was a gentle knock on the door, causing Virgil to almost fall off the bed. Patton slowly entered, whilst Virgil turned his head to face him.

"Oh! You're awake," Patton noticed, coming to sit down next to him. He frowned. "What are you eating?"

Virgil swallowed. "This is a cereal bar."

Patton blinked. "What's that?"

"Y'know." Virgil's eyes darted to the side. "Cereal. But in a bar."

"What's cereal?"

"Do you... not have cereal here?"

Patton shook his head.

Virgil hummed. He turned back to his bag and picked up another cereal bar, handing it to Patton. "Try it."

Patton stared at it for a moment, before shoving it in his mouth. Virgil's eyes widened. He grabbed Patton's hand before he could crunch down on it.

"Uh, you're meant to take the wrapper off," Virgil said, sheepishly.

"Oh." Patton lowered his arm and Virgil loosened his grip. He watched Patton unwrap the bar and begin to chew on it, his face going through various stages of mostly disgust. "That does not taste nice."

Virgil shrugged. "I mean, it's not exactly supposed to taste nice. It's just breakfast."

"Oh!" Patton exclaimed. "We have breakfast here too. But it's a lot nicer than whatever this is."

Virgil raised an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Patton stood up. "C'mon, I was just about to make some." He grabbed Virgil's hand and dragged him out the room, into the kitchen.

"So, what do y'all have for breakfast?" Virgil wondered.

"Fruit, mostly," Patton replied. He turned to a bowl of berries and picked up some sort of whisk, beginning to mash them up. "Mixed in with sap."

Virgil frowned. "Sap? Like, from trees?"

"Yeah," Patton said. "Is that a problem?"

"I mean, we don't usually go around drinking sap." Virgil took another bite of his own cereal bar. "Some of it is poisonous to us, I think."

Patton glanced at him. "Nah, you'll be fine." He poured some sort of liquid into the bowl, mixed it up for a moment, then turned around and handed the bowl to Virgil. "Here, try it."

Virgil hesitated, but took the bowl. "Alright, but if I die, it's your fault." Wasn't as if he had anything to lose, anyway. Inside the bowl was a yoghurt-like substances, a light pink colour, with silver sparkles scattered around. Patton handed him a spoon and he began to eat, eyes widening.

Patton frowned. "Uh, are you-"

"If I'd known all the food and drinks here were so good I would have come years ago."

Patton grinned. "You like it?"

"Like it?" Virgil felt as though he was close to tears. "Patton, this is the best thing I have ever eaten." He handed the bowl back to Patton. "Its, uh, your breakfast though, so you should-"

"We can share," Patton offered.

Virgil's eyes lit up.

~*~

He wasn't sure how many days it had been since he arrived in the forest. Time was weird here - it was always day time, save for when the moon rose, which had only happened once so far. So it was difficult to tell exactly how long Virgil had been in the forest, but he still went to sleep every now and then, staying at Patton's house. It must have been quite a few of his normal human days, possibly weeks, but there was no way to know for sure. At this point, he had ran out of the supplies he had brought, and fully moved to a diet of whatever delicious dish Patton made. And it was nice. Things were nice.

One 'afternoon' - not really afternoon, but it had been a while since Virgil had last slept, so he'd deemed it 'afternoon' - he found himself wandering around the forest, when he saw Roman sat off to the side. He moved over towards him and sat down, looking at a watercolour painting laid out of the floor in front of Roman. It displayed a picture of a fountain, with crystal clear waters and multicoloured flowers surrounding it.

"Did you paint that?" Virgil asked.

Roman glanced up at him. "No."

Virgil backed. "Oh. Uh-"

"I'm joking," Roman said, "of course I painted it."

Virgil let out a small smile. "Uh, it's nice."

"Thanks."

Things were weird between Virgil and Roman. Thought it definitely wasn't as bad as when Virgil first arrived in the forest, it certainly wasn't the best. It seemed like Roman didn't trust him - which was fair enough, really, he'd just wandered in here out of nowhere and decided to move in with his friend. Not really a great source of trust.

But Roman was being... civil, at least. That was all Virgil could really ask for.

"So," Virgil said, "uh, how are you?"

Roman glared at him. "You don't have to talk to me, y'know."

Virgil glanced down. "I, uh..."

"You're not even meant to be here," Roman said. "Just... go home."

Virgil wanted to tell him that he couldn't go home, that going home would only end in disaster, but Roman stood up and walked away. He had left his painting supplies on the ground. Humming, Virgil picked up the paintbrush and began to paint, not really thinking about what he was drawing. It ended up being a painting of a flower, similar to the one he had created in the fountain. Huh.

Eventually, Roman returned, sitting down with a huff. "So not only are you stealing the forest, you've also stolen my painting supplies."

Virgil put the paintbrush down. "Sorry. I just-"

"It doesn't matter." Roman sighed. "Just go talk to Patton or something. He likes you, right?"

~*~

Eventually, Virgil always ended up back on the sofa with Patton, in his - in their little cottage. They'd listen to a song playing on some old record player, human music that Patton had managed to steal from the world outside. Sometimes Virgil would lay on Patton's legs, closing his eyes and falling asleep as Patton played with his hair. Sometimes Virgil would sit up and paint, after Patton went to get him his own watercolour set.

"You'll have to start your training soon," Patton said quietly.

Virgil sat up. "What?"

"Your training," Patton repeated. "To be the next Lord of Spring. You'll need to learn how to use your powers before the next moon rises..."

Virgil hummed. "How do I do that?"

"I think Janus wants to start training you soon," Patton said. "He'll be waiting for you when you're ready."

Virgil shuddered. "I... I don't know how to feel about that guy, Pat."

"He can be a little intense," Patton admitted, "but he's good. You can trust him. He trained me, and Logan and Roman, and..."

Virgil glanced down. "And Remus?" he guessed.

"Yeah, him." Patton sighed. "I think you should go soon. Maybe the next time you wake."

Virgil laid back down, collapsing into Patton's legs. "What if I screw it all up, though?"

"You won't do that."

"That's pretty much all I'm good at," Virgil argued. "If it wasn't, then I probably wouldn't be here in the first place." He sighed. "I, uh... I'm scared."

"That's alright," Patton said. "Being scared is perfectly normal."

[seenashwrite]

Notes From Nash: Season 15, Episode 3

It's ep three, and was third try the charm? Well, we're still in that little town, which is infuriating. But don't lose hope, chickadees. There was some character arc action and some plot advancing, and just drama in general, and it moved at a decently quick clip, all of which is refreshing after last week's ass-disaster of an episode. 

If I were grading this ep, all things considered (including some damn fine acting moments that elevated the material), it's an A-. (Five points were docked immediately because we were still in the little town.) But seriously, this week's writer(s) had a LOT to make up for given the aforementioned last week as well as a largely lackluster premiere, so you know what? Props to them. 

We got a loose end from season past tied up, got rid of some dead weight, and then there was a thing that happened that I’m not entirely sure was necessary at this interval, but I get why it happened. Of course, we had our requisite random hamfisted “solution(s)” and still-unexplained bits that should’ve been clarified ages ago, can’t not have those, it seems. Regardless, this episode was actually fairly interesting to watch. I’m still wary about the state of the season after the first two, but this one had some spark.

Spoilers below the cut, you know the drill.  

This one's in order, I was jotting stuff down as I watched. Past ep breakdowns linked at the bottom. If you’re new, hello, welcome, etc., I don’t do meta shit or reading into the symbolism of the color of a blurry wallpaper just over someone’s shoulder, I look at writing and cohesiveness and structure and flow and all that jazz. I basically just call things as I see ‘em. 

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////// 

More spooky-scary still seems to be pouring from the hellpit, but at least this crypt is pretty, and Harry Potter tent-esque because the square feet inside is seemingly bigger than the outside.  

Rowena appears to be outfitted in one of my grandmother's housedresses, or a coffin lining, or a 1980s prom dress, whichever you prefer, and none of them have been pressed. I'm trying to say I don't like it. They also continue to do Ruthie's makeup in such a manner that she perpetually looks approximately fifteen years older than she actually is, so in a way I'm thankful this is likely her last episode. On the other hand, I trust these writers and the people who assemble/green light the promos about as far as I can throw them, so we shall see. In any event, Ruthie is quite the good actor and I hope she gets a million gigs after all this is done.  

This Sam-Dean moment with Creased Brow Sam and Gruff Voice Dean is falling so flat, not because of them, but because we're hearing The Same Damn Thing We've Already Heard. Move the plot along, please----- Oh wait here comes Belphagor once again with a solution, this time a nice little plot rescue MacGuffin! Lilith's Crook. Just gotta blow it like a horn. 

Motherbitch, this is stupid.

I got a thought: make it Gabriel's horn, so it calls in all the angels who should've come back with the reverse-y switch-a-roo, and they deal with sealing the hole, but bonus! At end of ep last scene is that it's also called Gabriel back, too. I'd announce to the universe that this show needs to hire me, but, welp.

Oh look, Ketch is in a hospital gown. Oh look, I bet Ketch is about to die in that hospital gown, instead of a badass suit like it should be. It looked like DHJ accidentally spoiled via a tweet that I happened to see----- 

I dodge the promo images and articles and such so I can give a view of someone who doesn't know what is coming in these things. 

-----because he talked about coming back just to leave again, that it was a pleasure, whatever, and y'all will have to fill me in on that because I kinda can't believe he whiffed that hard. I'm not looking it up, is my point. Did he whiff? Actually, don't answer that, I don't care. I mean, don’t go to trouble looking into it on my account.  

Hmmm. Was Ketch’s death entirely necessary? At least, right now? I dunno. Maybe. I’m 50/50 whether this, or have him be double-crossy then get killed later. In any event, well-acted by DHJ. He's quite fantastic. He is wasted in all the Hallmark dreck he's been in, I really hope he gets some good work after this. That's that. Moving on. 

We're 1/4 in, and I'll give it this: we've gotten some action, some drama, but they've GOT to make up for the lack of plot progression in episode 2. Belphagor is shady as shit, which we knew, and this just got reinforced by that demon who has such a hard-on for Belphagor getting axed. 

I do not mind rando badass lady hunter having lines and playing a tangentially-important role in the ep, but this means if we ever see her again, she'll likely get killed, so I'm not getting attached. 

So hell is an angry vagina. SFX, are y'all okay? Is that prick whose tweets occasionally come across my feed still working there? Y'all need some hugs? I know y'all need some better budget, that all the DC shows got it, but oh well, that ship's sailed.  

Well done set dec, I dig the ghoulish statues in that hallway. And hey costume design, I like the ring that dude was wearing, I would wear that in real life. It would also look great as a wrist cuff. I digress. 

We know this demon is not going to succeed in killing Belphagor, so once more we have a pointless halftime cliffhanger. Also, have I mentioned I'm done with Cas being a weak puss? I'm telling you, if stuff got rewound, he should be incrementally getting his mojo back, that tracks logically. See Ep. 1 notes for what I thought should've happened for a legit "Whoa" moment. 

"Do you have any idea what he is?" --- he's a poop demon. Again, see the first episode of @youtotallymadethatup​    /shameless plug

[sighs]

Is this show gonna end with a Jack vs. Jack battle royale? Because fuck that noise. But! Writing-wise, it's okay that ol’ Belph may become the big bad. Nash, why would you say that, you ask. Easy.

IT WILL GET US THE FUCK OUT OF THIS LITTLE TOWN

A. Ny. Thing. to get us the fuck out of this little town. I am so goddamned bored.

Cas, this is a mistake. You should leave. What are you doing. Leave. Don't fall for that. Leave. Go now. Whoosh. Okay, or glow worm and barbeque the body. That was a nice little catch of emotion by Misha at the end. Except are the demons now gonna jump into his body? Better not, we've seen that season. 

Commercials! Cannot believe I've not been inundated with the adverts for the convention here in the spring, that's usually the jam. Imma go get some frozen yogurt. Highly rec strawberry with a little warmed-up Nutella. Try it, then tell me I'm crazy. I'm not. It's heavenly. 

Aaaaand, we're back!

Don't look so distressed Cas, y’all were gonna burn it anyway. But this takes Jack v. Jack off the table. Hopefully this means we'll be headed back to the Empty to get some progress on that hanging thread from last season sooner rather than later. Still, I'm glad we are down a character for awhile, this character in particular was starting to work my nerves and honestly, is just dead weight. I want it back to Sam and Dean for the most part this final season with sprinklings of Cas. Everyone else is secondary.

[claps] Very excellent Ruthie and Jared. One critique: Wish there could've been some sort of line from Rowena, re: "And perhaps I'll get to see my boy again", something of that ilk.

But I want to say this, and say it emphatically:

The nonsensical spells pulled from asses must stop

The soul-catcher thing is an example of a great move because it drew upon the past, then built upon for the present. This heart and angel blood and salt shit, and then this “Oh by the way it needs my dying breath” stuff is just obvious “um um um well how about bleh” writing stumbles, and it shows. The only reason that lameness worked? Ruthie and Jared’s performances. Period. Because y’all gave them absolute garbage to work with, and they made it shine.

Hey! There's the two convention promos with one short local ad in between, followed by the same local ad again! I was beginning to think they'd forgotten! 

WE ARE OUT OF THE LITTLE TOWN, I REPEAT, WE ARE OUT OF THE LITTLE TOWN 

DEAN IS IN A HENLEY, I REPEAT, DEAN IS IN A HENLEY 

Oof, Dean. I mean, I figured this convo would have to happen one day, it's been building, because even though his intentions are good, Cas has been involved in his fair share of shit taking left turns. Hopefully Cas is going to go seek out other angels. Also, re: Cas saying he's getting weaker - because, why? WHY. This has never been addressed in a definitive, satisfactory manner. 

Right, so, like we do each time, let's check in to see if we've had any character development and/or plot progression: 

Do Ketch and Rowena and Belphagor count, since they've progressed to being dead? Dunno, that's more of a finality to their overall arcs. Dean's being an asshole and Sam's being weepy and Cas is being an Eeyore, that's about par. Meh. Okay. So did the plot get advanced? 

YES THANK YOU FLYING SPAGHETTI MONSTER SWEET LORD YES. But, eh... a little weaksauce. Yes, that chapter of the initial onslaught is closed, yet we know it's not over. So I feel like the ep should've ended with, after the bunker door slams, a cut to a little scene that serves as a clue about what lies ahead. I mean, ahead-ahead, season-wise. Like, twenty second blip, not even, then hard cut to black screen, then on to promo which appears to be MotW. 

So that's it, really. More adept writers could've made the material of #1 and #2 into the premiere (minus several things, most specifically minus Kevin, should've saved Osric for something else down the line), then this should've been episode #2 instead of #3. Can't unring that bell, though. Let's hope we hit some speed before Buckleming comes along to run us into a ditch, then (fingers crossed) we have a few eps after that to rebound for the finale.

See you next week.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Past posts, from newest to oldest (and I sometimes do addendums if a response warrants)

Episode 2

Episode 1

[murfeelee]

It’s July~! Weekend Replies!

Summer’s like officially here now. Let the good times roll! ^0^

I’m kinda backed up, so bear with me, guys. :P

white-enamel replied to your photoset “Something Wicked This Way Comes - Pt2 Far down the avenue of yews we...”                                                

I just love it!! <3 <3

My fellow sister of darkness! <3 I have to upload that set soon; I said I’d do it today, but I’ve been so effing lazy & distracted; good lord I need help. U_U

Pink Replies

palimpa replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

your sets are sickening awesome! You must have spend so much time work and sweat on it that i would totally share my donuts with you if i could xD

Not even lying I went out and bought a whole box of like 30+ donuts BECAUSE OF YOU! XD They’re almost gone now; I’m disgusted with myself, but I can’t stop eating them!

shhhushhh replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                              

That's one of the cutest posts EVER!    

soloriya replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

how beautiful! ♥__♥

embysims replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

you have the best pic sets!!! so creative and just brilliant

Aw, thank you all~! :3 I seriously doubt that I have the best pics when simmers like pixelsinmyveins & kosmokhaos exist, but it’s nice to dream! ^_^

ashuriphoenix replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

I like Ryu!  Interesting looking sim.                    

Thank you! :D Ryu-San was made in homage to all the long white/platinum-haired anime/game characters I’m in love with -- I have a type (and half of them are evil half demon shapeshifter undead mofos, too, wtf is wrong with me :P ).

My crushes wallpaper (High-res): Sesshomaru & Inuyasha, human!Artemis (Sailor Moon), Emperor Mateus (Final Fantasy 2/Dissidia), Aion (Chrono Crusade), Alucard (Castlevania), Ukitake (Bleach), Inu no Taisho (Inuyasha), Sephiroth (Final Fantasy 7), youko!Kurama (YuYu Hakusho), Undertaker (Kuroshitsuji), dragon!Kija (Yona of the Dawn), Kunzite (Sailor Moon).

simblu replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

So beautiful. What a great theme for a flower sim.                    

I keep telling y’all that Sakura’s a cherry tree faery, and then I realized that I never even bothered to actually make her a flowery PlantSim.  *facepalm* :P I had to fix that, frikkin embarrassing, lol.

packagedblyss replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

I love plantsims flowery tracks ! I'm sad to see them disappear in my game after a while. (I also love those shoes, super cute !)

SAME! :D

kosmokhaos replied to your photoset “Pink, Like the Paradise Found  Let’s count the ways we can make this...”                                                

😂😂😂😂 Now I'm singing the song I love it                    

My frikkin anthem lately, LOL XD

palimpa replied to your post “20 Questions Tag”

Who’d You Most Like to Have Lunch With? “Oprah. Preferably while she hands me a check for a couple million dollars, amirite." 🤣 👏 Who wouldn't?                   

I KNOW, RIGHT!?!

lifeasasim replied to your post “20 Questions Tag”

Hahahahah love this                    

lifeasasim replied to your post “20 Questions Tag”

I saw the shadowhunter tag before I read the post and knew it was you xP

You are wise and experienced, that’s why! XD

Malec Replies

(See what I did there, y’all? ;) )

alice-and-white-lapin replied to your photoset “Yasumi no Edo - Pt3 (Machi wo Mistete Kudasai!)  For their last day in...”                                                

Your Malec family's fan art is so cute and I love it ♡      

I love that you love it! どうも ありがとう ございます!

simblu replied to your photoset “Yasumi no Edo - Pt4 (Owari) CAPTIONS AS TEXT - Alec and Magnus spent...”                                                

I love all the pix and, under your cut, the changing eyes. This series will live on with you and other fans. Take it in directions you wish, perhaps?    

Precisely. Most of it's taken from the books anyway, especially the whole bit with their children, since I had a sinking feeling that the tv show would never catch up in time for us to see Max & Raphael Lightwood-Bane. Now that it might be cancelled I’m glad I wasn’t setting myself up for extreme disappointment on that end. U_U But yeah, as long as the books keep coming out, and the fanfics are still plentiful, and the fanartists stay active, I’ll have plenty of material to use in my gameplay. :) I just really want the show to keep going; it’s gotten so much better, and doesn’t deserve this at all! :( How will I live without Harry’s Magnus!?

declarations-of-drama replied to your photoset “RSoM Insp. Pt1 - May I Have this Dance?  A slow sweet song with a...”

I thought I read "Dozens of masked downloaders" lol thought you was making a statement ^^ Lovely pics as always x                  

Maybe I was not! 8) LOL

andantezen replied to your photo: “RSoM Insp. Pt1 - May I Have this Dance?  A slow sweet song with a...”

amazing scene!

simblu replied to your photoset “RSoM Insp. Pt2 - Your Host, Lorenzo Rey  Lorenzo Rey spent a...”                                                

Beautiful setting, glam characters.                    

Totally can’t take credit for the scenery/setting -- you know how effing long it took me to find a gorgeously decorated Baroque lot with a decent ballroom? -- but thanks for liking the glam characters~! ^_^

simsdestroyer replied to your photoset “RSoM Insp. Pt1 - May I Have this Dance?  A slow sweet song with a...”                                                

Wow these poses and pics are amazing... Stunning!!!!  I've always loved your blog.                    

That is such an amazing, nice thing to say, it really is. I always get worried that my followers are sitting around like wtf is Murf even doing? And the answer is: Whatever I want, really, idek.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But I know people often follow me for specific things, and I feel bad cuz I never stick to anything for very long. So it makes me feel better knowing that I have guys like you who just like my blog in general, regardless of whatever I’m up to at the moment. The support is deeply appreciated! <3                                                                 

Pride Replies

venusprincess-simblr reblogged your photoset and added:

I love it! What a great parade :D

I’m so happy you think so! You are such an inspiration for the community, LOVE YOU, VENUS! Thanks for everything!

palimpa reblogged your photoset and added:

She nailed it! I love this! big kiss!

andantezen replied to your photoset “Pride ‘18 - Part 1 “I’m sure there are millions who’d like nothing...”

epic!

simblu replied to your photoset “Pride ‘18 - Part 1 “I’m sure there are millions who’d like nothing...”                                                

Again, compliments on this amazing set-up!                    

Y’all are just too nice to me; I’m so happy and pleased, I can’t~! <3

simblu replied to your post “Happy Pride! CAS Set”

Thank you                    

You’re very welcome! :) Thanks to everyone who liked the Pride CC set I shared! I felt it was only fair to upload it, to do my part in contributing to the LGBT+ CC pool for Pride Month.

Thanks for the continued support, everybody!

[aggresivelyfriendly]

~Meet Me In The Hallway~

Chapter 22-Turbulence

“Get up!” Michael kicked the end of my bed and the shake was enough to rouse me from my slumber. I’d stayed up late, hoping that Harry would call me. But, just like all the nights this week, my phone had not rang, and the lack of that sound was deafening. His texting had fallen away too; it had been several days since we had had any form of communication at all. His answers to my mundane questions, a line with a dead worm on the end for all their usefulness as bait, were one word often, and his most common sentiment was that he was tired, not that he missed me. When I first made it home, after my two day coma, he was full of rings and tings. My phone went off a lot I thought, so much that my mom actually seemed really irritated by its interruptions of family dinners. “You two have been running around the world for months, the least you could give me is a few meals with your cell phones safely away in your bloody rooms!” She’d griped as she loaded up my plate with grilled meat. I could tell she had went to trouble with this meal. The pineapple salsa she had on the side was my favorite. So I didn’t answer the phone. It pained me, but it was one of the few calls that I missed. Harry, I tried to understand, had to press the shady button more often. With the time zones and their scheduled I got it. Then the calls started to dwindle. And self doubt crept in. As time wore me out, I wasn’t sure if he was avoiding me, or just didn’t really want to talk to me. Over the weeks, my urge to press his contact name and hear his voice was overrun with anxiety. When I stopped calling, he did too. Or maybe I had done most of the calling and was just too excited and enamored to notice it. He did text me back, though I was sick to death of waiting until he could send me short responses. I was sick to death of waiting. I just, I missed him. And he didn’t seem to miss me.

I sat in my room with an empty journal on my lap the night before my rude awakening and just wondered if I had imagined his interest. He had all but said it. And he had shown me that he cared for me, wanted me, implied he loved me. A world away though all I could ask was why. He had the world, and its female population, with a hearty dose of the male too, at his feet. What would he want with one girl? What would he want with me? The seesaw we were on was as dizzying as the tilt a whirl, and I had promised myself that if I didn’t hear from him soon, I’d let it go. I’d let him go. I didn’t want to be a burden. I must be, if the weight of calling me was too heavy, how would all of the massive things that I dreamed about feel across his shoulders, no matter how broad. I wanted more than morning cuddles. I wanted more than him calling me baby. I wanted more than shared meals. I wanted the shared life he had mentioned. I wanted more. I wanted. But maybe he didn’t. In the moments where he had a willing girl, increasingly naked and eager in his bed, no wonder he had imagined his interest in me. Or worse feigned it. And he, a very red blooded male, who was very active I knew for a fact before I invaded his bed, of course availed himself of my offer. Though in the waning hours of the night, when the world and my thoughts were darkest I wished he had been a little more selfless and given a care before he took–before he took me. I felt like I’d been taken. Like he owned me, body and soul, and I had been a distraction at best. A warm body at worst. It was wretched. So, in the interest of self preservation and fear, I decided I’d make myself scarce. Stay away for this final little leg of Oceania, and resurrect all those plans I had for my life before I was monogrammed HS. I’d made a plan. I’d written it all down last night. Hair at the hotel, come home and sleep here when possible. Do not watch the concerts, avoid all mentions of Harry Styles. Make a female friend. Learn to date boys who didn’t set me and the world on fire. Actually find a boy to who wanted to date me, instead of have me secretly warm his bed. This list became very useful when I actually implemented it years later, though it went to waste upon its initial creation, because my brother had other ideas for my day and the Aus section of the tour. "Wake up Melly!” This time he was not having my grogginess as he yelled at me. “Jeezus!” I kicked at him as he started pulling the blankets off the bed. “What do you want, ass face?” “I want you to come with me! The boys asked for you and you have been even more of a hermit than usual, so you are going to come with me and act like a human and see people!” He widened his eyes at me. “Now, go shower, you look like shit!” “Stop trying to pull my blankets off! I’m naked under here!” I squealed when I threw myself over the blanket about to be coldly removed from my body. My bare ass on display was better than a full frontal shot I figured. And he was a irritation I wanted gone. Maybe I’d fall back to sleep. “Since when do you sleep naked, prude?” he questioned. Since Harry I thought. It simplified things in the mornings. And I loved those mornings in LA. I’d adopted the habit and learned to love the feeling of crisp sheets over my bare body. The few times a video chat had happened, my naked state had been expedient. Maybe I did it out of hope. I figured I was safe then as he’d stopped pulling my shelter away. But he ripped it off me this time. “I don’t care about your ass, I’ve seen it before, though it as a lot smaller then! You are coming with! If I have to drag you! So make yourself presentable.” Looking back maybe Michael wasn’t as clueless as Harry and I thought. He was dead set on me going with and it was Harry who had asked for me, I guess. I was so wrapped in my thoughts I had missed a few key facts in my stripping though. "Oi,” I called  after him, “where are we going!” Making my way with a towel wrapped around me to the shower. Michael came out of nowhere then, and shoved me into the bathroom. “The 1D boys have made it! I want to see everybody, and they asked for you, lord knows why, so shower, stank!” “Don’t call me that!” I shouted. I’d hated that when I was little. He gave me such a complex about the way I smelled at one point that I developed a rash from too frequent bathing. I lingered so long over my ablutions trying to put off the inevitable and squelch my hope in the face of expected heartbreak, that Michael basically banged in the door until I came out and kept juggling my door knob until I got dressed. “Fuck off, I’m ready now, ass!” I seethed! I had no idea how I was going to handle being in a car with him for half hour at least. “Finally!” He about faced and expected me to trail after him. I did. “No idea why Harry asked for you! Unpleasant snatch!” “Language!”’ my mom said while Michael grabbed the keys to his brand new car. “Don’t talk to your sister like that. "Thank Mummy,” I played my baby sister role up while my brother apologized, to mum, not me, and we headed down the drive. The ride was not as bad as it could have been. My brother immediately put on a playlist and turned it up. So I was free to go over all of my mistakes with Harry and personal flaws in peace.  I even nodded off once we got past the traffic and I was shaken awake, though this time more gently. Another beautiful hotel, made plain by comparison to so many others, greeted us. The lobby was expansive and I felt like we were in a convention center type place by the time we reached the damask wallpapered elevator. My feet were aching even in my trainers, but not as much as my belly. With each floor up, my heart sunk a little deeper. It was surely in the subterranean parking garage by the time we got off the elevator, to Niall riding a segue down the hallway with a beer in each hand. “Nialler!” Michael shouted and Niall stood straight up and hit a button with his elbow without spilling a drink. The momentary distraction from my downward spiral was welcome. I partook in the high fives he doled out at our awe. He’d handed us each a beer. I handed mine back. “Michael and Melly! I love that you all make me say mmmmm!! Come on,“ he lead us away, "everybody but Harry is in here,” he shoved open a door and music floated out. “Let me text him, he made a big stink about me letting him know when the big red dogs arrived!” He drunkenly laughed at his own joke and pulled the hair on Michael’s head I had dyed red recently. I loved how merry he was. It was hard to be angsty around Niall. I figured I’d have to bask in sunshine if Harry shut me in the dark. It might be the only way I was gonna survive this party, and apparently it was a party. There were drinks flowing and I made my way over to where Niall had plopped down and grabbed an acoustic guitar with yet another beer by his side. He hugged my head. A couple people had wandered over to say hello and I was chatting with Lottie about a new strobing technique she had learned when I felt him come in. All the hairs on my arms were stood up and I wasn’t sure if I was in the middle of a romance novel or horror film. I kept myself turned away, I wasn’t eager to find out what tropes I’d be party to. Would I my find myself watching the sunset from a balcony or have my heart ripped out? Would Harry be my romantic lead or my nightmare? When I heard his voice nearby me, saying Michael’s name, I couldn’t help but look up. He was locked in some bro hug type thing with my brother. But he was looking at me. He looked like shit. His eyes were red and bleary and his nose was swollen and his skin was pasty, patchy and pale. I’d never seen him look so unhealthy. “Harry!” I called before I got ahold of myself. Even if I was hurt by his casual disregard, I was so concerned about how miserable he looked I just couldn’t keep the edge out of my voice. No one seemed to notice my solicitude, save Niall who gave me a curious look. And Harry, whose face brightened and tried to smile before he grimaced and had a coughing fit. Once he was done hacking up a lung, he came over to me and I nearly tripped over my own feet to stand when he got close enough. I leaned forward immediately and his hand caught my shoulder before I could wrap my arms around him. My face must have fallen. “Don’t hug me, I’m poorly!” he cautioned. I threw that caution at the wind and wound my arms around his neck and buried my nose into his neck and sniffed until I could smell him under the Mentholatum and tea. “You let Michael hug you,” I chided into his neck. “I don’t care if Michael gets sick.” He clinched me a little tighter and whispered “missed you,” before pulling back mouthing ‘so much’ at me. My belly warmed, and I smiled big at him. He grinned back at me and I was willing to forgive his silence, so soon, forgive him even indifference if he stayed near me. Our staring contest was going a little long and I’m sure my eyes had stars in them. Harry seemed to catch himself, and he averted his gaze and sent a knee in Niall’s direction and they started to talk about plans. “You going to the beach?” Harry scraped out over the gravel in his throat while Niall pretended to be a Jedi for having blocked his knee. “Yeah, sounds like good craic and Ashton insists you can’t come to Australia and not do beach stuff. That true?” He directed at me and it took me a moment to realize he was addressing me. He was looking at me, but I was looking at Harry. “What?” I glanced at Niall. “I asked if you were coming to the beach with us?” That didn’t sound quite right, but I could see a knowledge around the edges of his smile that I didn’t like. Niall either suspected us or thought I, like so many others, had developed a bit of a crush on Mr. Styles. Which I guess had a grain of truth in it at least. But, even someone’s uninformed opinion qualifying our relationship in such a simplistic way was insulting to me. I didn’t have a crush and whatever it was that I had was requited. I thought. I hoped. “Um, no yeah?” I answered and the distraction in my voice was so obvious I might as well have been a small child licking an ice cream instead of listening to a calling parent. I shook myself slightly. “Yeah, I’m always up for the beach,” kind of a lie. “When are we going?” I looked at both of them. “Whenever this arseface gets better!” Niall mock punched Harry’s stomach. “You are the weakest wanker, been sick for at least a week and almost didn’t make the plane here.” “Heeeey!” Harry whined. “How sick are you?” I looked at his red rimmed eyes while he picked his chapped lower lip. “I’m better!” He protested and Niall coughed. “Yeah, in that you are upright, doc almost didn’t let him on the plane. Never seen you raise hell like that before Harry! Guess you really wanted to make it to Oz.” Niall looked at both of us and I wanted to be embarrassed, but I was so hopeful that I was why he wanted to make it on that plane and he was so sick he couldn’t get ahold of me, or didn’t want to worry me, or…. I needed to stop making excuses for him, but I just wanted to wrap him up in blankets and make him tea and toast. “I need another beer,” Niall got up and I noticed his glass was half full and quirked a brow, but Harry just smiled and shook his head before taking Niall’s spot, moving like a man of 80 not a boy not yet 20. “Ughhh,” he blew out and rested his head against the back of the couch. I raked my eyes over him, I’d missed looking at him, and I knew my gaze lingered entirely to long, someone would notice, but I wanted to drink him in from a fire hydrant, even when he looked like- “You look like shit!” I said and was surprised by the tinge of anger present in my voice. Good, I still had a backbone somewhere. He rolled his head my way, “Yeah, cheers, feel like it too.” He coughed suddenly. “What’s wrong with you?” I started to move my idle hands from my lap, but caught them and looked around the crowded hotel room. “You should be in bed.” “Have been, for days, I think I slept most of this week. Doctor said flu,” he looked at me regretfully and I wondered if words of apology would cross his downturned mouth too. “Go back to bed, Harry.” I decided to flex my vertebrae and went to stand, but he caught my hand, quickly, and I looked back at him. His mouth was pursed, lips thin and he looked peaky and pitiful, and my spine compressed. “Will you come with me? Meet me?” He inclined his head to the hallway. “Missed you, um, would really like a cuddle.” He forced a dimple and dissolved into another coughing fit. I sat back down and angled my body to hide the hands we still had joined. “Were you too sick to call me?” Slipped out weakly and I wanted to bite my tongue off and spit it out, traitorous slip. He nodded, “I have been, before that, we were just so crazy just, with the movie and like interviews—” “Too busy to even say hi?” I stared at our hands where he was rubbing my knuckles. “Please come back to our room,” my head jumped up, “and let me explain! I feel shit and just could, look,” he coughed again, “please, cuddle me.” God, I hated that I loved him right then. But, I nodded and raised my eyebrows. His lips quirked gratefully, maybe in triumph and I wanted to leave him alone in that hallway, but I knew I wouldn’t. “Five minutes?” I hated how little it took for me to give in, just the happy look on his poor little face turned me inside out. I was a jellyfish, no bones to speak of at all. I nodded and bit my lip and he got up, looking at me for a long moment before he left me alone on the couch, trusting that I would follow. The last time I had followed him out of a hotel room congregation had been with light feet and a hopeful heart. This time, I could feel a seed of resentment sprouting in my heart, but I went, because i was only aware the thing was beating when he helped me remember it was present in my chest. After some furtive glances and a surety that no one was watching, I made it to the door, and down the corridor, this one with more of the textured wall paper from the lobby. The walls were red and black and lush. As overwrought and baroque as my little feelings. Big feelings, really. All of my feeling surrounding Harry were huge-tidal, and weighty, apparently even my disappointment. This time, he wasn’t hiding out in a room to pull me into his arms and a celebratory kiss. Harry was waiting in the hallway, proverbial hat in his hands. He’d even clasped them together in front of him, like he was waiting for the rap of my ruler over his knuckles. If that had made me feel better, I might have done it, if it were on the table. He would have let me. I could tell he felt guilty just looking at his snotty face. But I didn’t want him hurting, which he clearly was with his sickness, and I had no desire to do the hurting. “Baby–” he started and I held up my hand. “Baby? Really?” I scoffed a little, some sass was left in me yet. He narrowed his eyes a moment, “I’m not allowed to call you baby when you are mad at me? I’m also not allowed to say your name I think, when I’ve hurt you, if I remember correctly. So what am I supposed to call you?” People in New Zealand could hear my eye roll. "don’t be petulant, Harry. Let’s go back to your room, unless you want to do this in the hallway?” “Do what? Are you breaking up with me?” He extended his hand and flashed them out, like magician showing he didn’t have a magical object. “Breaking up what? We aren’t together, even!” My voice went up an octave on that one. He drew his neck back and squinted at me, “We’re not? You sleep with boys you aren’t with, Mel?” Oh I was gonna kill him. “Not your business if I do.” His jaw expanded at that and he started walking and all the air went out of me faster than an unplugged bounce house. He caught my hand on his way and pulled me, quickly swiping his key across the sensor until it said go and he pushed in with me trailing behind him. He turned then, his face a little red, not from rough tissue. “We!” He motioned between us. “Are together, ok?” It was somewhere between a question and a command and my head spun like a top. “Huh?” I stared at him slack jawed. “Melody,” his voice softened considerably, but he still has a tinge of red in his voice. “I’m sorry I didn’t call, but like, I was overwhelmed, and tired, and then sick. I got on that plane, um, even though the doctor said my eardrum may burst, because I couldn’t go another day without seeing your face.”He cupped my jaw then and pressed his forehead to me. “We, baby,” he said in capitals letters, “are together. I only sleep with you and you only sleep with me! Ok?” He looked at me like he was convincing a jury against falsified evidence. “Ok, Melody can we be ok?” All the fight was going out of him. "Ok,” I agreed and he deflated against me. “But, H,” he sighed. “People who are together call

each other.”

“Ok, I’ll be better Melly, I’ll get better, ok?” he sighed and wrapped his arms around my waist so I was supporting more of his weight. “Can I please have my cuddles now?” He said against my lips but still not kissing me hello.

“No!” I shook my head, effectively rubbing our lips together. “No?” He pulled back to look at me. “Gotta pay the toll.” I tapped my lips. “Baby, I’m sick!” He half heartedly protested, pressing lips to mine and walking backwards to the bedroom. So was I, I thought, lovesick.

All The Love as always to my darling beta @nocontrolforlouis and to my readers and responders!!

Reblogs are love and spread the story, so if you like it, share it!

[wouldnotxcouldnot-blog]

Reunions 2 [Part 6]

Reunions 2  [part 1] [Part 2] [part 3] [Part 4] [Part 4.5] [Part 5]

(Hang onto your butts. There’s a lot of exposition in this one!)

As if to purposely contrast the grim nature of the events of their lives the sun shined brightly overhead in the Gotham sky. Surely there was no other reason for the odd weather. Gotham never had sunshine unless something was wrong.

And there were jokes to be made about Jervis Tetch not being familiar with seeing the sun given his roots.

He sat alone in the adorable little guest room, just watching out the window through the curtain. He could see the street beyond the small, fenced back yard of Alice’s apartment and all the people passing on it. Life was going on as normal even though this was the most unusual day there could be. Even in this most unusual of cities.

He’d considered wandering out of the room, but he worried what awaited outside.It was the weekend. Alice wasn’t at work. Meaning she was home. With him. Ready to shove him down the stairs for reasons he didn’t fully understand. It was for those reasons he didn’t really get any sleep either. He greatly wanted to look around the home but something told him that would be a poor decision on his part.

Oh, but this was the first time Alice had actually invited him to be in her home! True the circumstances were a bit... Unsavory.

Deciding to just get on with his day Tetch grabbed his clothes and dressed himself for the day. He’d been awake all night but the sun had been up for long enough that surely dear Alice was awake. And when he went to the door he could already hear her voice coming from the level below. Talking to someone, but he couldn’t tell who. Perhaps she was on the phone?

He peeked out the door, slowly pushing it open before he stepped out into the hall. Jervis’ blue eyes wandered the walls, looking over the wallpaper and the well cared for hardwood floors. Alice kept a lovely home. But what else could be expected from the most lovely woman he’d ever known? He made his way down the stairs. He made it about half way when he realized that Alice’s conversation wasn’t in fact over the phone.

“So, let me get this straight. Your solution to thinkin’ he might have somethin’ to do with this.... Is lettin’ him stay in your house? How’s that make sense?”

“Because if he is behind it, he can’t do anything with me watching him.”

“And he can’t be watched in Arkham?”

“No. Because if he gets arrested legitimately and not by Batman he doesn’t go to Arkham. He goes to prison.”

“And what’s wrong with that?!”

Jervis paused, hand hovering over the railing as the living room came into view. The two voices, Alice’s and what seemed to be a gruff sounding man’s, were coming from the kitchen. He leaned around carefully, balanced on the edge of a step as he peeked over. He couldn’t see much of the other fellow but he could see enough to know it wasn’t her boyfriend. He was too short and a little smaller. And older. The brown hair atop his head was beginning to grey.

Who-...?

“What’s wrong is that if he gets thrown in jail they aren’t going to care that it might not be his fault. They’ll throw him in a cell and close the case.They’ll stop looking for the person behind this because on paper it looks like his work.... And you know better than anyone how the GCPD is.”

The man didn’t respond. Not at first. Jervis could hear what he assumed to be a frustrated sigh. Just who did this old man think he was? Telling Alice what to do in her own home!

..... Something in the very back of his mind thought that was ironic but he paid it no mind. Didn’t seem relevant at the time.

Cautiously, Tetch stepped down the remainder of the stairs, shoes softly landing on the wood floor as he entered the living area around the front door. He was in full view now and Alice quickly took note of him, her cornflower blue eyes lifting from where ever they’d been staring off to settle on him. It made his heart flutter in a way only her gaze ever could!

But she looked as pleased to see him as she did the night before.

“Ah. There you are.” She greeted him coldly, taking a sip of what smelled like coffee from where he was standing. Yuck.

The older man’s face looked just as thrilled as he turned to look at the blonde man who just made his entrance. They were perfect strangers but it seemed this gentleman already had an opinion of the Hatter. And it didn’t seem to be one of high regard.

“Well, look who it is.” The man spoke, his voice thick with the accent most common to Gotham. That sort of quasi-Boston accent that only the upper crust or the lowest lives seemed to have. Tetch couldn’t peg the man for which he belonged to. “I was wonderin’ when you were gonna show your face.”

Jervis approached, shoulders square as he sized this new fellow up. He looked several years older than Tetch. Perhaps a decade older. So not one of Alice’s peers, most likely. His clothes were a mix of formal and the most casual of clothes. With a hooded jacket over top of a pressed blue, collared shirt and black slacks. He wore steel toe boots that were oddly clean given the intent those shoes are often worn for. And his face was covered by a bushy, but well maintained beard with streaks of grey to match his hair. But the blue in his eyes was unmistakable.

“How do you do?” Jervis finally greeted, smiling in a way that didn’t fully reach his eyes. “Family of Alice’s I assume?”

He offered his hand for a handshake but the other man didn’t take kindly to it. Not only was the offer snubbed thoroughly, Tetch’s hand was harshly slapped away. How rude! Not the greatest at first impressions, this guy.

“Save it, nutjob. We ain’t friends.” He pointed out, arms crossing squarely across his chest as he stared down his straight, narrow nose at the Englishman. “Not after what you did to my daughter...”

... Oh.

.... OH.

Jervis felt his stomach drop and his heart stop. Alice’s father? This was Alice father. He was meeting his dear Alice’s- Oh, dear. Oh, no. This-... Is this how he dies?

“S-... Sir.” Jervis Stammered, not sure if he should be delighted to finally meet what he thought at one point might be his future in-law, or terrified that said future in-law looked as if he were about to rip his heart out of his rib cage.

“Jervis this is my father.” Alice introduced him with a bland, tired tone to her voice. Jervis wondered if she had gotten any sleep either. “Dad this is the man who ruined my life. But you knew that already.”

... Ouch. Jervis tried not to give her a look but it was rather difficult. The comment stung like a barb. He’d only ever wanted her to be happy. Was that such a crime? Sure his methods were a tad... Extreme... But it was love!

“Oh, yeah. I knew it already.. And let me make one thing clear, pal.” her father walked closer, Jervis pedaling backwards. “I know what you did to my daughter.. I know what you did to her fiance. And what you did to my son... And if I find out you’re tryin’ to get my little girl killed because you couldn’t get your way-”

“Ah-!” Jervis yelped as his back hit the wall, trapping himself between it and this threatening, older male.

“- There won’t be a body for anyone to find.” The elder Pleasance growled, his voice dripping with an earnest, murderous intent. The tone of voice that only a hardened criminal came make seem sincere. Dear lord... Now he saw where Alice’s unknown temper came from. At least she did better to hide it than this man.

Jervis swallowed, nodding. He didn’t imagine Alice came from a family of killers but it was never safe to assume.

“Alright, that’s enough, Dad.” Alice intervened, grabbing her father by the sleeve and pulling him off of her ‘guest’. “He knows to stay in line. Right, Jervis?”

Jervis’ eyes fell on her and he nodded eagerly. Death threats were not a bluff one wanted to call when unarmed. Thankfully he was given his personal space back and he was free to breathe and emerge from the high collar of his jumper that he didn’t realize he’d been hiding in.

‘Dad’, as Tetch now knew him by, grumbled something to himself as he stomped off to grab the coffee pot from the maker and pour himself a cup. Mr. Pleasance didn’t seem a sunny time but it could be stress given the current circumstances. And, if he were honest, Jervis was confused as to why he was here. Alice had this handled fine! They already had the young Joseph helping so what was the need for another body in the mix? And this was before Alice inevitably called her new beau and told him what was going on.

Jervis was certainly not looking forward to that. He’d had enough of that sadist’s ‘punishments’ for a season. He at least wanted the weather to warm up first. Christ..

Exhaling in the hopes it would steady his heart, Jervis took the liberty of sitting at the table in one of the four chairs. Right where he’d met with Alice the last time they were in this room together.

“You need anything to eat?” Alice asked, moving past him to walk into her kitchen. “I’ve got waffles... Apples if you want one.”

A small smile turned up the corners of his mouth at her hospitality but he didn’t have much of an appetite. Not after the ‘conversation’ that just happened. But he wasn’t about to be rude in her home.

“An apple is fine. Thank you, dear Alice.”

Another grunt from Mr. Pleasance at that... Hm.

Alice didn’t seem to pay it any mind as she pulled out a shiny red apple and tossed it to the Hatter seated at her table. He caught it with ease and smiled gratefully her way. She didn’t even look at him.

“So. My dad and I have been talking about the situation-” Jervis didn’t tell her that he’d heard the latter half of their conversation, “And I think I have a plan that keeps us all safe.”

She grabbed an apple for herself, and pulled a knife from a drawer. As she walked to the table to sit across from Jervis she sliced into the flesh of the fruit and began to cut a wedge for herself.

“I’d love to hear it.” Mr. Pleasance hummed, standing against the kitchen island a few feet away. He didn’t seem too keen on sharing space with Mr. Tetch.

Alice didn’t say what it was at first, just cut her a sliver of apple and took a bite with a loud, satisfying crunch. The expression on her face was thoughtful. Perhaps she was mulling it over, thinking of the words to say.

“... Way I see it... We can’t find who did this by using a laptop. We need good equipment. So I figure we have two options.” She glanced between the two men, “We use one of your secret labs- not going to happen- or we call in a favor... Last I checked, all of your old equipment still falls under ‘evidence’ in your many criminal cases so your lab has been untouched for years. Meaning all your stuff is still there.”

Minus the mice he hoped!

“My old lab? I would have thought they’d have gotten someone to fill that place ages ago.” He mused, rolling his own apple between his hands across the surface of the table. “There were rumors that the bio-science divisions of Wayne Tetch got liquidated but I was certain my work was valuable enough to continue.”

“Well... You were half right.”Alice assured him, taking another crunchy bite of her apple before continuing, “I kept up contact with Dr. Kates for a while after I left. Turns out that they were trying to replicate your control chips in the hopes of finding out how you did it.. I guess, in the hopes that they might find a way to combat it should even more dangerous people get their hands on the tech... They got close but it never worked.”

Not surprising. It took Jervis fifteen years or so to finally have to knowledge and skill to do what he does. But it was fascinating to him that despite how his work had been condemned as ‘immoral’, others were continuing it.

“So, what? You’re gonna go back to your old stompin’ grounds and put this guy back in the place that started it all?” Mr. Pleasance asked, skeptical from what it seemed.

“That’s a theatrical way of putting it... But, yes.” Alice smirked at her father before looking back at Jervis. “I called Mr. Wayne. He’s agreed to help us. And keep it quiet. But he had some conditions.”

Oh, wonderful. What could that possibly be? It wasn’t as if Jervis had never used his technology on Wayne. So it wasn’t like the boy billionaire had any reason to trust him.

“I’m all ears.” He relented, drumming his fingers against the skin of the apple idly.

“You finish the project you were supposed to be doing when you went bonkers and turned this mind control technology loose on Gotham.”

... Oh.

“That-... Oh, honestly, Alice. I’m not even an employee of his any longer. He can’t expect-”

“Well considering you’re running rampant with his tech, I’d say you don’t have a choice.” She cut him off and he fell silent quickly in befuddlement. What could that mean? “You made the original control chips with Wayne Enterprises resources, on Wayne Enterprises funding, while working on a project for Wayne Enterprises... Legally he owns them. Which means the ‘Mad Hatter’ you’ve made for yourself is Wayne Tech property.”

Damn. She had a point. Legally he was pinned. So if he didn’t agree to her terms not only would they not find the culprit behind these attempted murders, leaving him stuck with the blame, but he would also be giving the patents for his invention to Bruce Wayne... And a Rogue was nothing if not proud of their craft.

“... Aaggh-! Alright. Fine.” He groaned, He huffed, shoulders slouching as he fell back against the back-rest of the chair. “I’ll finish his project. But after all of this nonsense is finished.”

To his bewilderment, Alice chuckled, “I thought you liked nonsense.”

“Touche.” He rebutted, a half lidded glance given in her direction before he picked up the apple. He posed one more question before finally taking a bite. “So, what is the rest of this plan of yours that’s supposed to keep us safe, hm?”

“When I can’t be around with you, you’ll be supervised by my father.”

Jervis nearly choked on the apple.

“What?” He coughed, beating his chest in the hope that would help it go down, “Alice, are you sure-”

“Good.” Her father smirked. “I don’t trust that hospital to keep you in. No offense to Bolton, Alice.”

“Dad!” Alice snapped, though there wasn’t a hard edge to it like when she was angry with Tetch, “His release had nothing to do with Lyle. That was all on the doctors buying his ‘i’m cured’ bullshit. I’m sure if Lyle had his way he’d still be there.”

“You have no idea...” Jervis mumbled, absently rubbing his throat. One might think it was due to the near-choking incident, but there was a ghost sensation at the memory of being in that horrible asylum.

But it wasn’t time to dwell on that.

“So, Alice... If I’m to spend time with Mr. Pleasance while you’re off doing... Other things.. Who is going to be with you? It’s your life in danger, not mine.” He pointed out with great, and growing concern.

“Yes, but I don’t trust you.” Alice jabbed, brows raised and eyes squarely set on him, “I don’t need a babysitter... Besides. I have friends at work. You on the other hand won’t be left alone anywhere because on the off chance this person is as deranged as you, we can’t have you getting jumped and dragged off before you have the chance to help us find them.”

Hm.. “Fair enough.”

Alice stood, walking around the table to Jervis’ side. He leaned away cautiously as she perched herself on the corner, legs crossed in a ladylike fashion as she carved out another slice of her apple. She smiled in sinisterly sweet down at him and he felt a great sense of unease.

“But I want to make one thing very clear.” She began, her voice quiet despite the fact that there was no one around who might even possibly hear her. “My dad’s a big softy. I love my dad. He might scare you now, and he might knock you around if anything happens to me... But I promise you. He will keep you safe. But if you hurt my dad, or let anything bad happen to him... I will personally cut your dick off.”

Jervis swallowed, that feeling of dread rising up again after only a few minutes of it going away. Mother of God... Alice was a vicious woman when she was angry. Giving the orders in his place, pushing him around, making the threats.

... He wasn’t sure how to feel about that. He’d think about it later.

“N-... Noted. I’ll be diligent in getting to the bottom of this then.”

“Good!” Alice smiled more sincerely, hopping down from the table with a joyful bounce. Falling back into her pleasant, sunshine radiance that she was normally. “And while you work on that, I’ll be going around to my usual places and asking questions. Maybe someone in one of my regular hangouts has seen anyone suspicious around.”

She walked away, tossing her apple core into the trash bin on her way past it.

“Meanwhile you get to be reacquainted with your old boss!” She called over her shoulder as she seemed to strut towards the stairs, “Doctor Kates is just thrilled that you’ll be back. She’ll be letting you into your old lab once you get there. I’d suggest you don’t be late~!”

Dr. Kates... The obnoxious bat.

Jervis groaned, unhappily biting into his apple at the realization he would have to listen to her shrill shouting again. Ah, but he was a different man now. A stronger man. She wouldn’t be telling him what to do this time!

... He hoped. If there was going to be a woman telling him what to do it would be Alice or no one.

[imagineclaireandjamie]

On the Ridge: Imagine Claire explaining to William about the "other" William - Jamie's late older brother Willie; which Jamie overhears and joins to add his own memories/insights. (I obviously love me some William - Jamie stories. I think that relationship has some real potential going forward and am eager to see what you can do with it) Love your work THANKS!!

Homecoming - Part Two

Part One

William followed Claire to the barn with the horses and the wagon.

“I appreciate the offer of a bed for the night,” he said awkwardly, “but I don’t think–”

“Nonsense,” Claire interrupted. “There’s no way I’m letting you wander off and make a camp on your own like that when you’ve already been traveling for Lord knows how long without the comforts of a home. You’re staying at least a few days.”

“A few days?” William made a face of discomfort at the horse poking its head over the door of its stall. The horse snorted with either derision or amusement before burying its muzzle in the bale of hay waiting in the corner. William rolled his eyes and moved on to the second horse while Claire came along behind him and passed in a bucket of water for the hungry creature.

“I know it’s all a bit daunting just now,” she said apologetically. “We weren’t expecting to see Bree and Roger here again.”

“Yes, I seem to recall they were traveling somewhere distant when I met them before.” William was happy to shift the conversation from himself but felt his ears heat at the flash of curiosity he had about Brianna and her family… his sister.

“They had decided to go to France,” Claire confirmed. William looked up, furrowing his brow but Claire was looking at the horse in front of her, reaching out to rub the side of its neck. There was something off about her tone. “The war seemed… inevitable at that point and with the children… They wanted to be as far from whatever was coming and Jamie has family in France––a cousin who’s a wine merchant and one of his nephews as well. We haven’t had much time do discuss what it is that’s brought them back yet… and with no word of warning to us either.”

With the horses settled and the wagon tucked away out of the sun, Claire led William towards the big house.

“If they’re going to be staying here with you for some time, I’d hate to be an added burden,” William insisted, hoping he’d found his way to back out of an extended visit.

“You are not and never will be a burden, William,” Claire told him with firm gentleness. “The children can all share a room easily which will leave a room for Bree and Roger and a room for you. There’s the table in my surgery and even the barn loft if we need more room.”

William peeked his head around one doorway into the small front parlor to one side of the entryway then turned to investigate the larger space opposite.

His eyes widened.

“You can go in and look around if you like,” Claire said from behind him. He could hear the smile in her voice.

He stepped into the room. There was a large rectangular table in the center, long and wide enough for a person to lie down upon without the need to worry about falling to the floor. A large cauldron hung from a hook that could easily be swung over the fire when necessary. Instead of an oven for baking bread built into the bricks, small shelves had been built into the recesses and were lined with pottery containers labeled with various herbs. A desk sat beneath the light of one window and a work bench lined the wall at the other. A single chair was currently tucked into the corner of the room leaving plenty of room for moving about the space. He turned around. Books lined the lower shelves of a the wall next to the doorway while bandages and medical instruments occupied the higher shelves.

“It’s larger than the last surgery Jamie built me,” she informed William.

“He built all this?”

Claire nodded. “Well, he designed it and had help with the construction part. But yes, he built it for me.” She smiled to herself as she ran a palm along the top of her work bench.

“What does that door lead to?” he inquired before he thought of whether the question might be considered prying.

The door was next to the room’s outer wall a foot or so from the hearth.

“That connects this room to Jamie’s study next door.” They had taken to dealing with their work outdoors in the cooler air of the mornings when possible before retreating inside during the heat of the afternoon. It was a comfort to them both to leave the door open between the rooms so they could hear each other moving about; of course, it allowed them additional discretion at other times too, a level of discretion that came in quite handy with Germain and Fanny around the house. “There’s an entrance on the main hall too. The parlor and dining room adjoin similarly and the dining room connects to the kitchen at the back of the house as well.”

William nodded, his eyes still drawn to the closed door that led to Jamie’s personal space. William wondered what books lined his shelves; did he have tokens of his time as a soldier the like his father and Uncle Hal with their dress swords and pistols; what about art on the walls…

“I think I’ll put you in the room over the parlor. It’s furthest from the children,” she explained. “Roger and Bree can have the room next to them. Jamie and I are on the opposite side of the landing so we’ll be fine too.”

“You think they’ll cause trouble?”

“Oh, I know they will,” Claire said with a laugh, turning to leave the surgery for the stairs. “Germain and Jem especially. It won’t take long for them to get reacquainted and both have a knack for it. I shudder to think what they’ll accomplish when they combine their efforts.”

Claire led William to his room opening the windows to air out the space. It hadn’t been used yet and the scent of the sawdust still undercut the sharper odors of the paint Jamie had used on the walls.

“Depending on how the crops do this year, we were talking about looking to order wallpaper for some of these rooms––the parlor and dining room first, but then a few of the rooms up here.” Jamie still had so many plans for the house though he was happily setting them aside to enjoy the fruits of his labors since it had finally become habitable. “You take your time settling in up here. Rest if you need it. I’ll be down in the kitchen fixing something to eat when you’re ready.”

She left him alone then and William spent some time poking around the spare room and wondering what he should do about staying or leaving.

Every inch of him crawled with discomfort at the thought of staying and it made him ashamed to admit it to himself. He knew it was useless to even pretend that being away from Jamie Fraser made it possible to pretend nothing had changed and yet, a piece of him wished that were the case, that he could go back to that time before simply by getting away from the players in that revelation.

But he wasn’t a coward. And he was curious, especially about his sister and what she made of everything. How much did she know? And when had she learned the truth? She must have known when they’d met before.

There was also Fanny to consider. He had no doubt that she was well cared for but he needed to be sure for her sister’s sake and she would want to see him too.

So then, how long did he have to stay until it was no longer impolite to leave? A few days, he decided; a week at most. He should be sure that Dottie settled in with her sister-in-law and… Ian Murray. That was the other reason he wanted desperately to get away. The prospect of encountering Rachel and Ian made his stomach bottom out. He wanted Rachel to be happy and he knew Ian was a good man… but seeing them happy together… He wasn’t sure he was ready for that yet. The longer he stayed, the more likely it became that he would find himself in one or both of their company for some length of time.

He didn’t know how long he’d been up there pacing about and musing to himself but he finally built up the courage to go back downstairs and find Claire.

It must’ve been some time because she had tea, warmed bread with honey, and some heated ham ready for him on a tray set near the hearth in her surgery. The chair from the corner had been pulled over to the table in the middle of the room but she stood at her work table threading curved needles and assembling suture kits for future use.

“It’s tedious work,” she said, looking up into the window where he suddenly became aware of his reflection, “but having these prepared ahead of time can be enough to save a life. You should eat something,” she remarked, setting her work aside to face him.

“I’ll stay but only for a week,” he blurted. “I need to be sure Dottie settles and then I’ll be on my way again. You’ll have enough going on with your daughter and her family.”

“They’re your family too,” Claire insisted, gently. “I know you may not be ready to hear it or to accept it, but it doesn’t change the fact that as far as the rest of us are concerned, you are.”

William walked over to the tray Claire had prepared and lifted it from the floor to the table, wincing at the heat of the handles even as he was relieved to look away from Claire. Her face showed everything she thought––and clearly she thought he was behaving like a petulant and stubborn child––but he also couldn’t shake the impression that she noticed everything about him with her piercing amber eyes. It made him feel like a trapped insect.

“It would mean a lot to Jamie and to Bree if you stayed for a while––start with a week, but please consider staying longer. You might be surprised by how much it grows on you.”

“How much what grows on me?”

“Being a part of a family.”

He looked up at her then. “I have a family. Papa, Uncle Hal and Aunt Minnie… I have my cousins…” But he knew that, while what he said was true, what he’d witnessed between Jamie, Claire, Ian, and the rest of them, however briefly, was different. He gobbled a slice of the honey-soaked bread and enjoyed the feeling of it sticking to the roof of his mouth, preventing him from having to say anything.

“I think you should have a talk with Brianna,” Claire said with a nod and amused smile that confused William. “She reacted about as well as you did when she learned the truth about Jamie being her father.”

William swallowed hard, the honey on the bread sticking to his throat as it went down.

“What do you––She didn’t––Why?”

“I thought Jamie died at Culloden. I was already carrying Bree when it happened… I remarried and he wanted to raise her as his own. It wasn’t until after he died and I learned that Jamie survived that I told her.”

William blinked and reached for the cup of tea. It gave him something to hold while he thought about what she’d told him.

“Is that why it doesn’t bother you? Whatever there was between him and my mother?”

Claire’s expression went hard for a moment and color flooded her cheeks but she took a deep breath before answering and her tone remained controlled. “It does bother me but not for the reasons you think… and some of those reasons as well,” she conceded. “But none of that affects my opinion of you or how I think of you,” she insisted.

“You look at me and see him,” William guessed.

“I look at you and see the son he and I were supposed to have together… the son we would have had together if circumstances had been… more forgiving.” The smile she offered was small and a little sad. “The first time I was pregnant and we discussed baby names, we thought about the name William if it was a boy, for Jamie’s older brother… he died of smallpox when Jamie was just a boy.”

William blinked in surprise but could only think of questions that he knew it would be indelicate to ask. What did she mean by the first time? How many half-siblings did he have?

“Part of me was thrilled when I heard they’d called ye William,” Jamie said from the doorway to the surgery, startling both William and Claire.

She was only half surprised they hadn’t heard him come through the door. William nearly dropped his cup of tea and was profoundly thankful he’d finished the contents. He set it down gently and pushed the rest of the tray away but stayed where he was.

Jamie’s face was flushed from a combination of self-consciousness and the hasty walk out to Ian and Rachel’s followed by his equally hasty walk back.

“I couldna claim ye as mine but knowin’ ye had my brother’s name… it made ye feel a bit more mine nonetheless. I cannae say was it down to me or no, but I called ye Willie every time I saw ye as a babe. As ye grew and yer grandparents and yer aunt and nurses started callin’ ye that too…” Tears pooled in Jamie’s eyes but he held them in check as William and Claire waited. He blinked them back and cleared his throat, looking to Claire for reassurance. “Yer cousin left something behind and I said I’d come fetch it. Ian and Rachel seem pleased to have her and the bairn stay wi’ them as long as she needs. I left Bree and Roger talkin’ with Jenny. I’ll tell ye the rest later tonight, mo nighean donn, and I’m to be sure ye ken ye’re welcome to come and join the festivities tonight too,” he addressed William.

“Thank the Murrays for me,” William said stirring from his spot at the central table, “But I think I’m going to go up for the night a bit early. I’ve been pushing myself to keep vigilant with Dottie and the baby. Between that and Minnie’s crying in the night, I’m afraid I’m dead on my feet.”

Jamie stepped back from the doorway to let William pass and head up the stairs.

Claire was at his side and squeezing his hand until they heard the bedroom door close above them.

“He’s agreed to stay at least a week,” Claire whispered. “And I’m pretty sure he’ll reach out to Bree.”

Jamie nodded and then his lips twitched. “He’ll have a devil of a time trying to avoid her if he doesn’t.”

Claire felt the chuckle rattle through Jamie’s chest as he pulled her against him and rested his chin on her head.

[bxcketbarnes]

Farmers Daughter - Stiles Stilinski {Part Six}

Author’s Note: I can’t believe how quick these are coming out. I want to thank @mf-despair-queen for giving me some awesome ideas for this and @maddie110201 for proofreading it for me! 

We arrive at the hotel in San Diego and Stiles parks the car in the parking lot, walking over to my open window.

“I’m going to go in and check us in so we don’t have to wait with our bags, okay?” Stiles asks and I nod my head, my hands shaking slightly. Stiles notices, reaching in, grabbing them in his large ones. “You okay?” His face falls, eyes filled with worry as he looks at me.

“Y-Yeah, um, actually no. I’m nervous. I-I thought that since I’ve known you for a while and that I like you, a lot, that I’d be calmer, but no. I’m freaking out on the inside.” I confess, looking over at Stiles, tears beginning to pool. Stiles opens my door, unbuckling my seatbelt before pulling me out of the car, wrapping his arms around my shoulders. I lay my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat, feeling the warmth of him. I grip his shirt, nuzzling my head into his neck as he presses his lips to the top of my head. Stiles pulls away from the hug, rubbing his hands against my shoulders, giving me a smile.

“Y-Yeah. I’ll wait here, okay?” He nods, heading into the hotel. I wait by the trunk of my car, picking at my nails. I unlock my phone and smile once I see my wallpaper, which is of Stiles and I from that party. I text my mom that Stiles and I had made it to the hotel in one piece. I put my phone away and hear footsteps coming towards me. I stiffen a bit, scared that it could be some stranger wanting to kidnap me. The person comes up to me and I sigh in relief realizing that it was just Stiles.

“So, everything is set and ready. Do you want me to grab your bag?” He asks, opening the trunk, hanging his bag off of his shoulder, leaning farther to grab mine. I shake my head, kissing his cheeks as I take my bag, intertwining our fingers together. Stiles locks the car, leading me into the hotel, walking towards the elevator. He presses the button that reads “10th,” pulling me close to him as other people begin to pile into the elevator. We waited in silence until we got to our floor, Stiles let me go out first, his hand resting against the small of my back. What a gentlemen.

“This is us.” Stiles mumbles, sliding the card through the reader opening the door. I walk through, quickly noticing the king size bed in the middle of the room. A blush erupts onto my cheeks, looking back at Stiles.

“Um, Stiles?” I ask, getting that nervous feeling in my stomach again.

“Yeah, babe?” He walks further into the room, placing his bag onto the dresser.

“Where’s the other bed?” I look at him and his eyebrows furrow together looking at the bed then back to me.

“There’s only supposed to be one.” Stiles says nervously, rubbing the back of his neck, stepping towards me. “I-I thought that, maybe, you’d want to share a bed.” He stutters, grabbing my hands.

“O-Okay. I-I can do that.” I stutter, nodding my head. I look at the bed once more, my heart beginning to pound against my chest just by thinking of cuddling with Stiles. I bite my lip, my eyes fluttering shut, thinking of the way Stiles’ lips would feel on mine, our legs tangled together, his hands gripping my hips, hovering over me slightly.

“Babe?” Stiles asks, running his fingertips across my cheek, snapping me out of my thoughts.

“Y-Yeah?” I say quickly, pinkish color dusting my cheeks.

“What were you thinking of?” He smirks, licking his lips slightly. I gulp visibly, trying to come up with a lie.

“Uh, n-nothing, why?” I stutter, the blush on my cheeks becoming darker.

“Well, you kinda moaned my name.” He states and the color in my face drains. I groan, hiding my face in my hands, falling onto the bed fast first, placing a pillow over my head. “It’s alright, you know. I mean, I’d have the same thoughts too.” He confesses and I poke my head out.

“Really?” I ask, my lips parting slightly. He nods his head, laying on his side next to me, playing with the duvet. I push the pillow back in it’s spot, moving closer to him, my heartbeat still pounding against my chest. He glides his hand across my waist, looking into my eyes the entire time as he pulls me closer, making me squeal a little. “So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?” I ask, placing my hand against his chest, laying my head against his shoulder.

“I figured we could go swimming when we wake up and I plan on making reservations to your favorite restaurant for lunch.” He tells me and I look up at him.

“You remember my favorite restaurant?” I ask, my heart swelling.

“Yeah, of course. It’s Olive Garden, which in my opinion, is a great restaurant as well.” Stiles chuckles, moving a piece of hair out of my eyes, pressing his lips against my forehead.

“You are so sweet. How did I get so lucky?” I ask, giving Stiles a chaste kiss to his lips. I get up from the bed, heading towards the window, looking at the city of San Diego all lit up. “I also never thought I would see this sight. You honestly didn’t have to do any of this.” I tell him and he just shakes his head, walking over to me.

“Remember what I told you before we left?” I nod my head, smiling. “Alright, I don’t know about you, babe, but I’m pretty tired.” Stiles yawns, opening his bag, pulling out a fold up laundry baskets. He slips his shirt off, throwing it in there and I stare at his back. I watch as his shoulder blades move as he undoes his jeans sliding them off his legs. My eyes widen, turning around facing the window. “Oh my god, Stiles.” I gasp, my face heating up. “I should tell you now, that um, I only sleep in a t-shirt and underwear.” I tell him, my back still facing him. Stiles chuckles, turning me around and I try desperately not to look downward.

“It’s alright. I only sleep in my boxers, is that okay with you?” He asks, looking down at me nervously. My eyes widen, becoming super nervous that I’ll be sleeping in the same bed as Stiles, and neither one of us will be wearing pants. Oh god. “Hey, I can wear pants if you want.” He goes to grab his pants and I stop him.

“N-No, babe. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” I tell him, going over to my bag, grabbing a baggy shirt. Stiles comes over to me, taking away the shirt I had and hands me one of his, kissing my cheek. I smile, blushing a little heading into the bathroom, closing the door behind me. I pull my shirt off, unclipping my bra before placing Stiles’ shirt over my body. I unbutton my pants, pulling them off, Stiles’ shirt landing around my thighs. I smile at my reflection in the mirror, taking my lip between my teeth. I walk out of the bathroom, Stiles eyes landing on me and his eyes widen, lips parted slightly.

“Y-You look, great.” Stiles stutters, his eyes not leaving my body. I nervously chuckle, getting into the bed and under the covers, scooting closer to him. Stiles wraps his arms around my waist as I lay my head against his chest. He begins to rub his hands up and down my back softly, making my eyes begin to droop shut. One of my hands rest against his chest as I close my eyes, listening to the sound of Stiles’ heartbeat, falling into a deep sleep.

 In the morning…

 I shift, facing away from the sun, feeling Stiles’ arm still wrapped around my waist. For a king size bed we’re pretty close to the edge. I reach back, fixing the blankets when my hand brushes against something hard. I scream, flailing off of the bed, bringing Stiles with me. Stiles groans, lifting himself off the ground, squinting his eyes while looking around.

“Babe?” He asks, his voice sounding raspy. Oh lord, that sounds hot. “What happened?” He asks, helping me off the floor. I look down, noticing the large bulge in his boxers, looking away quickly.

“I-I, my hand brushed against, um, y-your private part and it surprised and startled me and I fell off the bed.” I mumble, feeling stupid and embarrassed. “I’m sorry I’m acting this way.” I whisper. Stiles looks down, covering himself before excusing himself to the bathroom. I sit on the bed, waiting for him to come out, picking at my nails, my head perks up when I hear the bathroom door open, seeing Stiles come out of it, the bulge now gone.

“Why are you sorry? It’s not your fault that you’re this way. You’re just not used to this kind of attention and I totally understand that.” Stiles cooed, running his thumb against my upper thigh. I lean my head against his shoulders, wrapping his arms around his waist, looking at the alarm clock next to the bed. 10:30 a.m.

“You’re literally the best. Like, I can’t handle your cuteness.” I mumble. “Wanna go swimming?” I ask, getting up, taking my bikini out of my bag.

“Yeah. Go ahead and change in the bathroom, I’ll change out here.” Stiles smiles, walking over to his bag. I walk into the bathroom, removing Stiles’ shirt and my panties, putting on my bikini bottoms. I place my bikini top on, still tied together from when I asked Stiles to tie them. I walk out, seeing Stiles shirtless in swim shorts. I bite my lip, treading towards him, pulling his head down towards me, pressing my lips against his. He moans against my lips, resting his hands against my waist, pulling me closer to him.

“I’m honestly really glad I’m here with you.” I whisper against his lips and I feel Stiles smile.

“C’mon, let’s go.” Stiles grabs my hand while taking the towels with the other, heading towards the elevator. We ride the elevator down to the ground floor, walking outside towards the pool. We put out towels on two of the chairs near the stairs of the pool, when a guy walks over to me. I look around, seeing Stiles getting us a drink when the guy in front of me talks to me.

“Hey, beautiful. What’s a girl like you doing here alone?” He smirks, pushing my hair off my shoulder and I move away from him.

“I’m not alone, my boyfriend’s over there.” I point and the guy looks at Stiles, a disgusted look on his face.

“C’mon, you can do better than that.” He grabs my arm, dragging me towards the hotel as I try to pry my hand out of his.

“Let go of me!” I yell and the guy stops, facing me, an angry look on his face. He was about to say something when Stiles cuts him off.

“What do you think you’re doing? Manhandling my girlfriend?” Stiles angrily yells, pulling me behind his back and I place my hands against the middle of his back.

“Woah, dude, she was trying to get me to go with her.” The guy puts his hands up and my lips part.

“Yeah, that’s why she was yelling for you to let go. I’m not stupid, now you should get out of here and leave us alone or we’re going to have a problem.” Stiles growls and I bite my lip. He’s really hot when angry.

“Oh yeah?” The guy steps forward and I grip Stiles’ bicep. “What are you gonna do?” He pushes Stiles back, making me trip and fall to the ground. Stiles looks back at me, his eyes softening and I nod, signaling that I’m alright. Stiles turns back towards the guy, pushing him back, before Stiles prepares to punch him. I get up quickly, taking his fist into my hand and he looks back at me.

“Please don’t do this.” I beg, laying my hand against his chest. His face softens, nodding his head before giving me a chaste kiss. I smile, looking over seeing the guy had walked away and I sigh out of relief.

“Are you okay?” He asks, rubbing the skin on my waist. I nod my head, laying my head against his chest.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Luckily I’ve got this really cute boyfriend who saved me.” I say and lean up towards his ear whispering. “Who’s also really attractive when jealous.” Stiles stiffens, gripping my waist as I giggle, pressing my lips to his cheek before running off, diving into the pool. I heard a splash next to me, I swim towards the surface, letting out a breath. Stiles grips my hips, pulling me towards him and I squeal, wrapping my arms around his neck. He places a kiss to my lips, walking out of the pool, placing my feet on the concrete.

“We should probably go shower and get ready for lunch.” I nod my head, wrapping my towel around my shoulders and hops onto Stiles’ back. He wraps his arms around my thighs, chuckling as he carries me to the elevator. An old lady gets into the elevator with us and she gives us a small smile.

“How long have you guys been together?” She asks and I look down at Stiles before answering.

“About a day.” I blush, Stiles’ thumbs rubbing the back of my thighs.

“Really? It seems like you two have been together for years. Cherish it, not a lot of people have a connection like you two.” She tells us before waving goodbye as she gets off the elevator. The doors close and Stiles looks back at me, a lopsided grin on his lips.

“Well, she’s not wrong.” Stiles places a kiss to my cheek, the elevator dinging and the doors open, Stiles continuing to carry me to our room. Once inside, he drops me onto the bed before turning around, hovering over me.

“Do you want to shower first or?” I ask and he nuzzles his nose against mine, brushing our lips together. My eyes flutter shut, the butterflies in my stomach going crazy as Stiles presses a loving kiss to my lips. “S-Stiles,” I stutter and he cuts me off.

“I know, I’m going.” He groans, pressing a kiss to my lips once more before heading into the bathroom, turning the shower on. My hands grip the duvet, a large grin on my lips. This is the best weekend… ever.

[snake-house]

Harry Potter X Male!Reader - stolen show.

title: stolen show

Harry Potter X Male!Reader warnings: he/him pronouns used for reader when you see ’–’ it means some time has passed **harry is like 20 and reader is 23 ***also sorry not sorry for the mentions of ginny x luna ___

“Healer [Last Name]?” Harry called into the practically empty hospital wing. His eyes looked around the room until he saw the familiar mop of your [color] hair. Quickly, he made his way over to where you were making some of the beds towards the back. Only one patient in the room was currently occupied by a fourth year who was coming down from a fever earlier that morning. “Professor Potter,” You grinned at the raven-haired male as he started helping you make the bed, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He returned your grin, “Well,” Harry glanced at the student a few beds away and to make sure that Madam Pomfrey wasn’t in the room, “I have a question concerning the up-in-coming Yule holidays.” “And what about it?” You arched a brow at him, finishing with the bed and moving to the next. Harry followed on your heels and started helping again, “My best mates are getting married, and I was hoping you’d come as my dat- plus one?” He asked, catching himself. He wanted this to be an excuse to ask you on a date, but chickened out at last minute. A smile grew on your lips, “I would love to go with you Harry, let me just ask the Headmaster if she needs me to stay or not.” “I already asked and she said it was fine.” Harry blurted. You tried to cover your laugh with your hand as you saw a blush dance across Harry’s cheeks, “Did you now? Well thank you for that, and I would love and be honored to go with you.” Harry smiled at your sheepishly, willing away his blush, “Alright, so uh, the wedding is on December 30th, if you’d like, you are welcome to stay with me until the wedding.” “Thank you, you really are too kind Harry,” You grabbed the large basket of dirty sheets and gestured for him to follow you towards the back, “As long as you are sure it’s no trouble, I’d like that.” You added as you placed the dirty sheets in a large laundry basket that the house elves would retrieve tonight to wash. “You’d never be any trouble, I promise.” Harry replied immediately, “Uh, does the first free day of break sound good? Would you rather apparate there or to take a floo?” “I don’t like apparition,” You said quickly, “There’s a floo in Poppy’s office if that’s alright with you.” Harry chuckled at your quick reply, “A floo it is, I’ll see you later then, oh and the wedding is semi-formal, muggle or wizarding attire is acceptable.” You nodded, bidding him a goodbye as he left the room, and going over to the boy and checking to see how he was doing. – During the last feast before the students headed home for the holiday, Harry sat next to you at the head table to tell you that he would be ready and by the hospital wing by eleven the next morning. You weren’t were really sure why you were ready twenty minutes early and sitting in Poppy’s office playing with your wand, but what could you do. Your things were packed in a a duffle bag by your side, and you triple checked everything this morning to make sure you had everything you needed, so there was nothing else you could do but sit there. After a while, you must have zoned out, since you didn’t notice Harry walk in and was currently staring at you stare off into space twirling your wand in your hand. “I’ll take a guess and say you must be ready to go?” Harry said, breaking your trance. Even though he could probably watch you all day like this, but he hasn’t been to 12 Grimmauld Place in a while, and he was nervous what state the guest bedrooms where in currently. You jumped slightly, flushing in embarrassment you stood up and nodded, “Yeah, sorry, uh,” You stashed your wand in your pocket, “How are you?” “I’m well, and you? And there is no need to be sorry.” Harry shot you a grin and walked over to the fireplace. You followed him over, grabbing and handing him the floor powder, “I’m well too, excited, I’ve never stayed over at a friend’s house in such a long time. Let’s make it a fun giant sleepover for two!” You beamed childishly, lighting up at Harry’s laugh. “That sounds like a wonderful idea,” Harry agreed. He grabbed a handful of the floor powder, and threw it in the fire as he said ‘12 Grimmauld Place’. With your bag in hand, you followed the raven haired wizard through the fire place and into his home. You looked around the place, a soft smile playing at your lips. The place felt like harry, warm and inviting, even after all that has happened. “It’s really lovely in here,” You complimented. “Thank you, uh, follow me and I’ll show you your room.” Harry said before taking your bag from you despite your protesting and led you up the stairs to one of his guest bedrooms. Harry led you up to the second floor before he stopped and led you through one of the doors there, “This will be your room, please make yourself at home,” You smiled and nodded as he set your bag on the bed in the room, “The door to the left is the bathroom and the door beyond it is my room. I hope you don’t mind sharing a bathroom with me.” “Of course not! I really appreciate you letting me stay here.” You replied with a genuine smile playing at your face. “Don’t think anything of it, it is my pleasure.” He said as he stuffed his hands into jean pockets, “I’ll let you get settled in then, I’ll be in my room or in the library if you need anything. I’ll also let the house elf know to listen to you, he’s kind of prickly for warning.” You smiled and nodded, letting Harry take his leave. You looked around for a while, taking in the earthy colors it was decorated in. Everything looked new, from the furniture to the wallpaper to the pillows on the bed. You liked the choice of earthy colors, mainly because it was a neutral color scheme that would show no loyalty to anyone. You took your time unpacking your things. The semi-formal robes you chose to wear to the wedding was hung in wardrobe next to the door with your two other sets of robes you brought along. All your undergarments and shirts and muggle jeans all went into the nightstand and small dresser. You weren’t sure what to do after unpacking, so you ended up on wandering through the house until you found the library Harry was talking about. Apparently, at least according to the house elf you asked, Harry converted the attic from just merely storage space to a small library. “Harry?” You called as you stepped into attic turned library, You looked around the loaded shelves searching for that familiar unruly mop of black hair. “Towards the back.” Harry called. You nodded even though you couldn’t see him and made your way towards his voice. “Hey..” You mused, “This is really nice,” You added, letting you eyes wander around the stuffed shelves, “Very homey and warm in here, I like it.” Harry grinned at you, “Thank you,” He shuffled some papers he had brought with him to finish grading over the break, “Make yourself at home?” “As times passes I will,” You skimmed across the bindings that were shelved next to Harry’s desk, your eyes landing on a herbology book, “May I?” You asked pulling the book from the shelf. Harry laughed lightly, “You don’t even have to ask, I can have one of the house elves bring us some tea if you’d like as well?” You flipped through the pages, glancing up at the male before nodding, “I think that would be nice, thank you.” The defense professor watched as you took a seat in one of the recliners by his desk before calling for one of the house elves and asked for some tea. It wasn’t until you both started on your second cup of tea before any of you spoke up. “May I ask why you decided to take a job as the defense professor at Hogwarts?” You asked, shutting the book as you leaned towards Harry in the recliner a few feet away from yours. Harry looked up from his own book he took off the shelves at random. He thought about your question clearly before answering, “Because it is something I genuinely like doing, teaching that is. I guess it all started because of Dumbledore’s Army that Ron, Hermione and I created in our fifth year to train other students for the war,” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed at your confused look, “Were you not there?” You shook your head slowly, “I graduated when you were in your fourth year.” You replied. “Oh, well, it was really the turning point for me. Before then I wanted to be an auror. But, after defeating the Dark Lord, that really fell through.” You giggled as Harry scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. “At least you’re happy now, or at least you seem to be.” “I am,” He smiled to himself, “What about you? Did you always wanted to be a healer?” You laughed as a blush started to rise to your face, “Well, mostly yes, ever since my second year when I broke my leg, that’s when I decided I was going to pursue healing. Before then I wanted to be a muggle actor.” Harry laughed with you at your confession, “And how did you come to that conclusion?” He asked with curiosity lacing his words. “Well, my grandmother was a muggle, and she would always take me to the muggle cinema in my home town.” Your blush had yet to subside from your embarrassment, “When I was six, she took me to see 'The Outsiders’ and I sort of fell in love with Patrick Swayze, and vowed to be just like him from that day forward. That was also when I started to realize that I didn’t like girls like how I like boys.” “That is truly adorable,” Harry laughed. The rest of the evening, after you both ate, was finished the library. You both talking about whatever came to mind, no matter how personal or broad the subject was, just enjoying the other’s company. It was nice. This holiday away from Hogwarts, you were sure, was going to be one to remember. – “Harry? Are you sure I look alright? These are people who mean so much to you, and I really don’t want to embarrass you.” You fussed, messing and fiddling with your formal robes as you stared yourself down in the mirror. The said man was standing behind you in his own set of dark green dress robes, looking as handsome as ever, maybe even more in your eyes. Even with his unruly hair, nothing could look bad on him, and thus was something you envied about the younger man. “I’ve told you a dozen times [Name], you look wonderful, you are not going to embarrass me. As long as you don’t get obliterated on firewhiskey and muggle alcohol, you should be fine. Plus I think [color] suits you very much.” Harry said as he came up and turns you around to face him, “I mean it, you look lovely.” Slowly, a smile formed on your face, and nodded, “Alright, if you think so, than I’m ready.” Harry grinned and extended his arm out to you, which you took, and lead you outside his home to apparate to where his best friends wedding would be held, The Burrow. You squeezed his arm and held on as the pull of apparition took over you. – “They look really good together, I may not know them personally, but I’m happy for them.” You heard Harry make a noise in agreement, “Too bad they didn’t realize their feelings earlier or they would have already been married.” He mused, watching the couple greeting their guests. Hermione and Ron were now Mrs. and Mr. Weasley. You could say it the other way, but it was obvious who wore the pants in their relationship. They had just finished their first dance and were now thanking everyone for coming as dinner was put on the tables. “Did you expect them to get married straight of out school then?” You teased, making Harry grin and shrug. “I think they realized their love for each when the universe wanted them to. But,” You glanced at the dark-haired wizard beside you, “I did hear it sometimes was painfully obvious.” “Only obvious to everyone else, besides them.” “You’ve told me Ron’s family was huge, but I honestly didn’t think he had so many siblings.” You said as your eyes shifted from red-head to red-head in the room, “Are they all married too?” “Yes, except Charlie, and Ginny is engaged to Luna Lovegood.” He said pointing to the two girls they couple were currently talking to. “They’re cute together too. Where’s Charlie? There are too many gingers to keep track of.” You mused with a grin. You heard a laugh from Harry as you watched him scan the room for the said wizard. Soon enough, he pointed towards the red-head sitting next to the half-giant Hagrid. They seemed like they were having a very intense conversation by the looks on their faces. “Why isn’t he married? He’s cute.” You blushed, realizing what you said just as the words left your mouth, so you coughed awkwardly, “I mean, he’s supposed to be one of the oldest, right? You’d think he’d be married before his baby brother.” Harry gave you an amused look, “I’ll keep that in mind.” With a scoff you crossed your arms, “You better not think of doing anything, I can think someone is cute without automatically giving off the assumption of anything else. I know what you’re like Potter, and you better remember I’m the one who heals your wounds.” You lightly threatened, satisfied with the drop of the subject. Ron and Hermione came by your table a few minutes later to greet you both. They gave both Harry and yourself a hug, which surprised you because you didn’t know the couple very well, having only briefly met them once at the ministry. You were only here at the wedding as Harry’s plus one. After they said hello and good bye, they headed to their table where they sat with Ron’s and Hermione’s parents and dinner followed as soon as they sat down. They had to be light on the magic since Hermione’s parents and family were muggles. – After dinner and cake was served and finished, Harry wasted no time in pulling you onto the dance floor despite your dismay and weak protests. And despite initially not wanting to participate, you ended up having fun dancing with Harry. You were an inch or two taller than him, but he had no problems at all taking the lead and twirling you around, making you feel like a fool, as well as happier than you’ve ever been in a long time. During the final notes of a rather fast song that played, Harry committed to dipping you back as the song ended. You both were breathing hard, both with wide smiles on your faces. “You, Harry Potter, are a ridiculous fool.” You laughed, him helping you back to a standing position, “And one of my closest friends, so I wouldn’t have it any other way. Do you want to get something to drink?” Not only was Harry’s mouth stretched with a genuine smile, his bright green eyes were smiling at you as well, making you warm everywhere at the sweet gesture, “Something to drink sounds marvelous actually. You can go sit, I’ll bring you some water.” You smiled and thanked Harry before you headed back to your table, and Harry towards the back of the room where refreshments were being served. You watched Hermione approach Harry as you sat down, but was quickly pulled away by one of the witches sitting with you at the table.   “You know,” There was a smirk on her lips, “I thought I was supposed to steal the show since it’s my wedding, but you guys did a wonderful job at it,” She teased, “I didn’t know you were such a good dancer Harry, nothing like that awkward boy you were in school.” Harry rolled his eyes at his friend, “Well Mrs. Weasley, I guess Professor McGonagall’s classes really paid off in the long run.” Hermione’s eyes glanced over at you, “That’s right, I’m married now, and no longer have to hear 'when’s the wedding’ day and night from you. So, now you have to deal with the same treatment. Everyone was impressed by your dancing, and now are all wondering why we never heard about [Name] here since it will probably be the two of you to get married next.” A hot blush took over Harry’s face at her words. “O-Oh it’s not like that-” Harry started, “We work together and are simply f-friends.” Hermione crossed her arms, obviously not believing it, “There is no way possible for they way you guys looked at each other to be just colleagues.” “But it’s true,” He insisted through his embarrassment, “He’s taking over Poppy’s position next year as the head mediwitch, erm, wizard. We’re just friends.”   “If you say so, but even if that is true, he’s your date tonight, and you guys look good together.” She was grinning at how red her best friend was turning, “Plus you both act like a couple.” And she left it at that since Ron called her back to their table. Harry was silent for a few moments, frozen with your glass of water and a butter beer for himself in his hands making them cold. It was in his frozen state did he realize the whispers around the room, glancing at you and him every now and then.   She was right after all, you were his date tonight whether it be a romantic or platonic one, you still arrived here together, and that alone sparked recognition. Your conversation with the witch across from you died off as you started hearing the comments being made about you and Harry. They weren’t anything bad, not at all, but embarrassing. 'When did Harry get a boyfriend?’ 'They look lovely together, I wonder if it will be the two of them next to get married, I hope.’ 'They have such chemistry, it would be a shame if they didn’t!’ Since it was never something you worried about, you also realized the man you considered your most likely best friend was the savior of the wizarding world, and always had people watching and looking at him all the time. You should have realized before. You were so used to Professor Potter at school and Harry after hours and during the holidays and so on, his celebrity status was always forgotten. Here, in the open, he was the boy-who-lived. In a panic, you turned to the younger wizard as he walked up, “I’m sorry Harry! I didn’t realize- I mean, with how you are in the papers, and and-” Harry cut you off by putting a hand on your shoulder. He gave you a reassuring smile that he wasn’t actually upset by the news, just merely embarrassed, “It’s ok [Name], I know you and I really appreciate how you always forget about the whole savior thing anyways,” He paused and glanced around before continuing, “Plus, if any misinformation ends up in the papers, I would much rather be thought to be in a relationship with you than any one else.” His words startled you. Slowly but surely, a red hot blush started creeping up your neck, “A-Are you sure? I can leave before you or after to prevent it looking like we are together.” You mumbled, quickly taking a sip of the water he placed before you. Harry thought for a moment as he sat down, silently watching you and the others sitting at the table. They were a pair of witches Hermione worked with in the ministry who were 'discreetly’ trying to listen in on the conversation. “It’s alright [Name], you don’t need to worry about it, really.” He gave you a smile, “Like I said, if rumors were to start, I’m glad the masses would think I’m shagging you and not someone like Malfoy or Neville.” “Neville’s engaged?” Harry rolled his eyes and grinned, “You know what I mean.” “You’re sweet,” You smiled, “Are you sure you’d even want to shag an old man like me? I mean, I’m not even a war hero like Neville.” “You’re only three years older than me, and yet I’m the one who looks older.” You blushed at his words. With a roll of your eyes you stood and held your arm out to him, “That’s typically what war does to people.” “Want to go for a walk?” Harry asked as he took your outstretched arm. Harry took the lead and made your way outside of the tent the wedding was held in, “Can I ask you something?” “Of course, what is it?” You looked up at the evening sky, the orange color from the sun quickly disappearing and being replaced by purples and black. The stars seemed to shine almost too bright tonight. “Can I ask where you were? During the war? You said you graduated when I was a fourth year, so I was curious…” You smiled and nodded, “I was in Switzerland,” Harry shot his head towards you in confusion, “As soon as I graduated, and my mother knew I wished to be a healer, she sent me to live with a medical herbologist who lived in the Swiss alps with her squib husband. I was there for about three and a half years before I took the apprenticeship under Poppy the year after the war.” You gave him a sideways glance, “I was wondering when you were going to ask.” “That’s really interesting,” You cocked an eyebrow at him, “I like learning things about you.” “Thanks, I don’t like talking about myself because I think I sound self centered, so thanks. It’s not that great though, it broke my heart when I returned because I had no idea what was going on, I had no idea there even was a war.” You smiled bitterly, “I was out classifying mushrooms while people younger than me, children, you, were dying.” “Hey,” Harry stopped and cupped your face, “I don’t know how long that has been resting on your shoulders, but don’t let that worry you. It was never your fault that you didn’t know, your destiny was to not be apart of the war, alright? Don’t let those thoughts bother you, none of it should not have happened.” You took a deep breath and nodded. That was all in the past, he was right, you needed to not let yourself be haunted with your what-ifs. “Good, now more importantly,” He dropped his hands from your face slowly and stuffed them in his pockets awkwardly, “Can I take you on a date before we both have to go back to school?” You felt yourself flush at the sudden request, not at all expecting the conversation to turn in that direction, “U-Uh, um, sure. I mean- yeah I’d love to.” Harry smiled brightly, “Great, awesome,” He glanced back at the brightly lit tent, “Want to go show everyone up and dance some more?” With a laugh you nodded, pulling Harry along, “Of course, you as the lovely couple’s best friend, we need to be the best wedding crashers there are!” Hermione would always end up saying she was the one who brought the two of you together officially, and it annoyed the hell out of Harry. But, you were fine with it, because she was kind of right. If Harry never asked you to be his plus one (date) to her wedding, you weren’t sure how long it would have taken Harry to ask you out, or you him. But the what-ifs don’t matter, because choices were made and fate likes to do what it wants.

[fanfic-shiz]

Happenstance (A Tom Hiddleston Story)- Part Three

Part Two

“Tell Addy I’m not wearing anything hideous with puffy sleeves.” I said around a mouthful of coco puffs.

My mom sighed loudly on the other end. “She’s not going to pick something you won’t like, Estella.”

“Oh, should we talk about the birthday tea incident?” I reminded her, taking us headfirst into an event that had happened almost fifteen years ago. “When she insisted we all had to wear those stupid straw hats with the flowers on them? In public?”

“That’s a little overdramatic considering how young you both were.”

“I’m just saying, mom. I get that it’s her day and all that, but shit I’m not wearing anything that resembles grandma’s wallpaper.” I tossed my empty cereal bowl into the sink, grabbing my apron off the kitchen table.

I heard the sound of a door close on the other end and knew my mom had left the kitchen where she and my sister were busy wedding planning so she could say something to me without her overhearing. I braced myself, punching the down button for the apartment elevator.

“Honey, I know you’ve had a tough year but I need you to be a little more accommodating. Addy is really excited for you to be her maid of honor…you could show a little excitement too.” My mom pressed.

I felt a stab of guilt as the doors slid open and I stepped inside. “It’s just that…she’s twenty-two, mom. That’s a little young to be getting married. And she’s only been with Mason for-”

“It’s her decision. Not mine, not yours. I know you don’t believe in getting married in your twenties, but you’re not your sister.”

I was quiet for a moment, biting back a torrent of statistics and facts on why young marriage hardly ever worked out. Along with all the bitterness I felt at having suddenly found myself very single and alone the day my sister had announced she was getting married, almost one whole year ago. “I know.” I finally sighed defeatedly. “I’m sorry. Tell her I’ll get whatever she wants. Just tell me where to go and what to buy.”

“You’ll look perfect in anything, honey.”

I smiled a little, leaning against the elevator wall. “Thanks, mom.”

By the time the elevator had reached the ground floor, I’d averted yet another wedding crisis with my sister (once again thanks to mom) and was on my way to work. I still was having a hard time getting used to the fact that my baby sister was going to be a married woman in just a few months. And I knew I’d been a pretty awful maid of honor. It all had just been sprung on me at the worst possible time, though. It made me feel extra shitty to know that instead of putting my time and energy into helping Addy, I’d used it to mope around and complain and make her feel less important. I chewed my lower lip as I sent a quick text to her, letting her know I was sorry and asking what she needed help with. At least I had a few months to try and make up for being so crappy.

Maybe if I’d paid a little more attention, or I’d been a little stronger, I could’ve avoided having my heart stomped all over by Shawn or at least come out of it on top. It seemed like he’d walked away from the situation with everything- the apartment, my best friend, my laptop….I felt myself sinking and knew I needed a distraction fast.

I put in my headphones and hit shuffle on me ‘pick me up’ playlist for the rest of the walk to work. And against my better judgement, sent a text to Mia.

S: If you’re dragging me to this shindig, I’m gonna need something nice to wear.

She answered almost right away, catching me by surprise.

M: Consider me the fairy god mother to your Cinderella…maybe I can even snag you a Prince Charming.

S: Unfortunately I live here in the real world where there are no Prince Charmings.

M: Trust in me, ye of little faith.

The corners of my mouth quirked upwards in a smile as I shook my head. The world would have been a much better place if ex-boyfriends happened less and Prince Charmings happened more. Fortunately, I knew better than to lose myself in fairy tales.

#

It was a slow morning, the usual rush dying down early. I was finished by noon and itching to finally pick up my laptop from the shop down the street. The guy who slid it across the counter towards me look apologetic but assured me “it’d get me by for a little longer’. So naturally, I wasn’t exactly ecstatic to give him my credit card.

Regardless, I was happy to have a keyboard and screen back. I tucked it underneath my arm as I sipped on a caramel macchiato and walked back outside into the cloudy gray afternoon. The weather on my phone promised a rain storm, but so far not one actual drop had fallen from the sky.

I postponed heading back towards the apartment and instead wandered from shop to shop, searching for nothing in particular but not ready to go home quite yet. It was Friday, which meant Mia’d be working late. It’d be a good night to get in some writing.

I was absentmindedly flipping through a rack of scarves when there was suddenly a loud clap of thunder. I jumped and looked out the window just in time to see a flash of lightning followed by a sheet of rain suddenly plummeting from the sky full force.

"Ah, shit.” I muttered. I rummaged through my purse for my mini umbrella only to realize, that quite stupidly, I’d forgotten it at home. Sitting on the kitchen table right by the front door. “Joyous.” I mumbled.

I pulled up the hood of my sweatshirt and pushed out into the rain. People around me were opening up umbrellas and ducking for cover. I stepped out onto the curb and began trying to flag down a cab. I was drenched within minutes, my clothing completely soaked through. “Come on!” I pleaded under my breath as yet another occupied yellow car rushed past.

I waved my arm frantically as a cab came closer. The next five seconds seemed to happen in slow motion. It was like a scene from a horrible 90’s sitcom as the cab not only failed to slow down, but splashed right through a puddle near the side of the road and unintentionally doused me with water. I sputtered, wiping dirty puddle water from my face.

“Are you kidding me!” I shouted after the retreating yellow cab. I huffed, hugging my laptop closer to my chest and silently thanking Jesus above that I had thought to bring a case for it.

And just as I thought things couldn’t get worse, I felt a pair of eyes on me. I lifted my gaze towards the opposite side of the street and my mouth fell open. “This is a joke. My life is a never ending, cruel joke.” I muttered to myself, shaking my head in disbelief.

For right directly across from me, on the other side of the busy intersection, was none other than Tom Hiddleston. Unlike me, he was completely dry, carrying a black umbrella and looking like he’d just stepped off a fashion show runway. I was hoping he wouldn’t recognize me, considering I looked like a drowned rat, but the way he was smiling at me said otherwise. He held up a hand, signaling me to wait right where I was. Lucky for him, I seemed to be frozen to the spot.

What were the chances? One in a million? No, one in a billion. One in a gazillion trillion so on forever and ever because how was this even happening? A one time run-in with an apparently famous celebrity was one thing, but twice in a week? Either he was stalking me, which honestly was the most laughable joke on planet Earth, or the Gods were conspiring against me to make me look like an idiot in front of the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. First the huge brown coffee stain on my shirt, and now this.

The pedestrian walk sign came on and he was across the street in less than a minute and at my side. The rain abruptly stopped as he stood close to me, holding his umbrella over both of us. And lord, he smelled good. I fought the urge to lean in closer. How dare he lure me in with his perfect face and his equally perfect scent?

“You.” I was saying before I could stop myself. “I mean Tom. I’m not stalking you, I swear.” My god, I was a true idiot. Just what every famous man wants to hear.

He let out a surprised laugh. It was an incredibly contagious sound and even more of an incredible look for him. I was helpless. Completely helpless. “Considering I was debating going back to the coffee shop just to see you again, perhaps it’s me following you.” He teased, giving me a grin. “You look absolutely miserable by the way, love. Adorable, but very wet.”

I managed a shrug, trying not to reel too much from the words leaving his mouth. Something about adorable and wanting to see me again. Or had I imagined that? What was wrong with me? “I’m soaking wet, stuck in the middle of New York City and can’t catch a cab to save my life.” I managed to say.

“Care to share a ride? My cab flagging skills are quite impressive.” He offered with another heart shattering smile.

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Go ahead, let’s see these said skills.”

He held out his arm and seconds later, a yellow cab was pulling up to the curb.

“It’s only because you’re so tall and they can see you better.” I joked, still in a daze and trying to wrap my head around what was happening.

He let out another laugh as he pulled open the cab door and gestured for me to climb into the back. “You’re absolutely right, that must be it.”

I glanced around quickly, expecting to see hordes of photographers or ogling fans, but no one was paying either of us any attention. Too busy trying to stay out of the rain.

I scooted over to the other side of the cab, the dry, warmth enveloping me. I pushed my hood back and tried to comb through my wet tangles with my fingers. Tom tossed his closed umbrella onto the cab floor before climbing in after me. Was I really about to share a cab with Tom Hiddleston? I tried to side eye him without him noticing. He was dressed in a light blue colored button down that matched his eyes and I immediately kicked myself for having such a cliche, idiotic thought. I tore my eyes away before he could catch me staring.

“Where to?” The cab driver called over his shoulder.

“Do you mind taking us to two addresses? I’ll pay the difference.” Tom offered.

“Oh, no. You really don’t need to.” I said hurriedly, fumbling for my wallet.

“Look, you let me hide out from paparazzi in the middle of your work shift. Therefore, let me pay for the cab.”

I hesitated for a moment before nodding. I cleared my throat and gave my address to the driver, trying not to listen to closely as Tom gave his. Or to wherever he was going. I didn’t want him to think I really was a stalker who’d memorize his address and show up at his house. Although I was sure there were plenty of people out in the world who were crazy like that.

“What were you doing out in such a god awful downpour?” He asked curiously as the car pulled out into traffic.

“Picking up my laptop.” I explained, remembering the rectangular device I was still hugging close to my chest, as if it were some sort of life support. “Where’s your entourage?”

He gave me an amused look, a smile curving his lips. “Suppose the rain must be keeping them at bay.” His eyes flickered to the computer I clutched in my arms. “You must have the answer to the secrets of the universe on that laptop…”

I realized he was teasing me about my death grip on the device. I rolled my eyes and tried to relax. “Not exactly. Just my writing.”

Tom’s eyebrows lifted. “So you’re a writer then?”

I wrinkled my nose and shook my head. “It’s more like a hobby. I’m not published or anything.”

“But you’re trying to be?” He asked.

I shrugged, feeling weird and for some reason embarrassed about sharing my far-fetched dream to be a writer with a famous man who was about a thousand times more successful than I could ever hope to be. “Maybe. I’m pretty good at making coffee, so I don’t want to let that talent go to waste.”

He laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners in a manner that was entirely too adorable. Oh lord, save me. He placed a hand over his chest. “I can personally attest to that.”

“Thank you, maybe you could promote me to all your fellow super hero actor friends.”

“I can, although they might be more offended than I am about the fact that you have a strict policy against super hero films.” He said playfully.

“It’s not my fault I have such refined tastes.” I shrugged and immediately was hoping I hadn’t offended him. He was still grinning at me, though, looking more amused than ever. Sarcasm was like an automated shield. Anytime I felt awkward or unsure of myself, it immediately went up. I was on fire at the moment.

“And where does a girl with such meticulous, refined taste come from I wonder?” He asked.

“Connecticut.” I answered.

“Small town?”

I narrowed my eyes slightly. “You ask a lot of questions. Aren’t you worried I might secretly be some super stalker and not knowing who you are is just an elaborate scheme?”

He shrugged. “I’m just curious. You seem entirely to sweet to be a born and bred New Yorker. And if it’s an act, well I’d say you could take my job as it’s very convincing. Fancy playing a super villain in a green cape?” He asked with a crooked grin.

I shifted in my seat. “Green’s not my color.”

“Of course it isn’t.” He chuckled. “Tell me, Stella, what would it take for me to convince you to let me buy you a drink sometime?”

I felt a momentary lapse in brain function. Was he asking me out? “I don’t date actors.”

His eyebrow knitted together, a curious look in his blue eyes. “Really? Bad experience?”

“No,” I paused, shaking my head as I fought for the right words to explain my current feelings on relationships. “I just don’t. Actually I don’t really date at all. Anymore.”

“I see.” He mused. “That’s entirely a shame.”

He faltered for a moment as the cab pulled up to a curb. “Damn, I was prepared to spend the rest of the cab ride trying to change your mind…but I suppose rejection from a beautiful girl every once in a while is a healthy thing.” He winked at me before pulling out his wallet and handing some bills over to the driver.

I was surprised by the slight disappointment I felt that we were already parting ways. And I highly, highly doubted a third chance encounter was likely. Two was already something unheard of.

Outside, rain still poured onto the city streets in sheets. I was surprised when Tom suddenly pressed his umbrella into my hands. “Here, to protect those secrets of the universe.” He smiled, nodding at my laptop.

“But-”

“Trust me, darling, a little rain won’t bother me.”

I was stunned for half a moment by the god damn chivalry of it all. Who was this guy exactly? “Thank you.” I said. “I mean, I’ll have to sell it on Ebay when I’m done but I’m sure you understand.”

My stomach jolted a little when another impish grin flashed across his face. “Entirely understandable. Until next time then? It was a pleasure…” He shook his head. “Bloody shame about the no dating policy, though.”

I stared at him wordlessly as he abruptly left the car and disappeared out into the downpour. He slid his hands into his pockets, and with his head bowed against the storm, walking in the direction of sleek chrome building.

“Is he the one in that Avengers movie?” The cab driver suddenly called back to me.

I shook my head. “Something like that.”

God, what a weird day. What a weird week.

As we pulled away from the curb, I tore my eyes away from Tom’s retreating back and studied the black umbrella in my lap. Had it not been there, I was sure I could have convinced myself that the entire thing had been just a very vivid, realistic dream.