#i will and have literally just thrown the whole dish away and started over somewhere else

[kuromi-hoemie]

when you ask a restaurant for spicy food and instead of cooking it in a way that makes the end result hotter they just obliterate all the flavor by dumping heaps of sriracha all over it after the fact

[daintyduck99]

"if him coming over actually gets you to do the dishes then i might have to get his number myself, damn..." for literally anyone in sunset curve/anyone. Vague prompt is vague but you KNOW the vibes.

"If him coming over actually gets you to do the dishes then I might have to get his number myself, damn."

"No!" Reggie yelps, cursing as a plate slips through his soapy fingers and plops back into the water. He busies himself by grabbing another as Bobby sidles over. "I mean, that isn't—you wouldn't—I just—"

Bobby huffs a laugh, squeezing Reggie's shoulder. He reaches for the dish towel.

"Relax, Reg. I'm just messing with you. It's easy when you get really earnest. And this guy has you like, super hyper."

That's an understatement. Luke has Reggie on the verge of cardiac arrest.

He touches Reggie so easily, looks at him so shamelessly, listens to him so intently, eyes shining with interest.

No one has ever wanted Reggie the way Luke does, so completely, so openly.

A guy like that can't see their messy-ass apartment, even if he's only coming over because he'd asked while his lips were on Reggie’s skin and he'd stupidly said yes.

He hums noncommittally, passing Bobby a plate, but Bobby persists as he dries it.

"You really want to impress this guy, huh?"

Reggie shrugs, although his flushed face must give him away. He keeps his eyes glued to a particularly stubborn stain.

"Am I doing too much? We're working on a song, so we probably won't be in here, but like, what if he gets hungry? Or thirsty?"

Bobby's thrown enough that he doesn't answer any of Reggie’s questions.

"You're working on a song for your at-home date?"

Okay, yeah, maybe that's weird. Without context it's really weird.

He rushes to explain before he has to spend the rest of the afternoon blushing and spiraling about the whole thing.

"I mean, that's why we really started talking. He's always at the pier, you know? And his songs are good, B. Like, 'everyone stops because time stands still' good. I sort of got him unstuck on a lyric and—"

His flush intensifies as he remembers the way Luke had leapt up, bright eyed and grinning, and cradled Reggie’s face the same way he'd handled his acoustic, surprisingly gentle even as he crushed their lips together, followed by giddy laughter and a breathless introduction.

Thank you. My name is Luke.

Maybe it still makes him swoon a little.

"And?" Bobby prompts.

Reggie clears his throat, hurriedly handing off the plate that's been stain free for who knows how long and finding the next.

"He made a joke about me being a lifesaver because, you know, lifeguard, but then we really started talking and he learned that I play bass and well—we've been working on songs ever since. I might be in his band now? Honestly, he's kind of intense. You might not like him."

Bobby scoffs, but then he says—

"How could I dislike someone when they obviously make you so happy?"

And Reggie has to hug him for that, soapy wet hands and all, which Bobby only protests about a little bit. He doesn't even pretend not to hug him back, winding his arms tightly around Reggie's waist.

He waits until Reggie has relaxed and started to let go to add, "I just figured you guys were going to fuck for the first time and that's why you're so ansty."

Reggie nearly tumbles to the floor with a rather undignified sound that's somewhere between a squeak and a squawk.

"Bobby!"

He laughs, a rare full-bellied one that makes it really hard to glare at him.

"What? Am I totally off? If this Luke is so into music, it wouldn't surprise me if he sees it as foreplay."

Well. He's not exactly wrong.

As Reggie’s eyes shift around the room, Bobby sobers, jabbing his finger in Reggie’s direction.

"You've already had sex with him!"

"We've—done things," Reggie hedges, "but not all of the things! So yes, I am nervous! I lo—I like him so much, and he's been so good to me so far, what if I literally screw it up somehow? If it's been too good to be true? What then?"

Bobby shrugs. "Then he's a dick who's been putting on a good act. If he really lo-likes you—"

Reggie swats at him with the towel, which he bats away with a smirk.

"Then it'll be good, or you guys will laugh about it and get over it and it'll get good. Okay? If he breaks your heart I will break his nose. So don't worry about it. You shouldn't need to try so hard to impress him. At all."

Reggie melts, but if he tries to hug him again Bobby's going to get all gruff about it, so he just sends him a smile and drapes the dish towel over his shoulder. "Okay."

By the time Bobby leaves, the cabinets and Reggie's heart are full, and by the time he returns, Reggie is all songs and smiles.

Needless to say, no one's nose gets broken, even if Bobby threatens Luke with it from time to time after he also, inevitably, gets recruited into their band.

Thank you, we're Sunset Curve!

Tell your friends!

[xpeachesncream]

hi my dearest nikki <3, for Valentines season, Idk if someone already requested this but I wanted a Tae x y/n vacation somewhere abroad with some spicy steamin' lovemaking and a marriage proposal perhaps? hahaha i am forever in love with these two and your playlist in PW is my everyday playlist,just a tmi :)

perfectly wrong | drabble [12]: when the love is real, and right.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: cussing, mature language/implied sexual content, sweet taehyung, unprotected soft sex as you try and cater to your man, straddling, some breast play, nothing too bad really - this drabble is meant to be cute af! (highly recommend music linked above lol)

note: imma make ya’ll cry with this one. lmfao, jk 😂 please don’t cry! happy valentines, loves! you are all beautiful and strong ❤️ you’ve come so far, please don’t ever give up! keep on keepin’ on, baby! i’ll always be here rooting for you!

update: please read this announcement!

School graciously provided another week of freedom in February, which so happened to fall right by Valentine's day. You were excited to relax and sleep in, be lazy with Taehyung and do absolutely nothing.

Except, not. Because all of a sudden, your man is rushing into your apartment, telling you to pack your things so you could make it in time for your flight later that evening.

"We gotta go, love." He pulls the luggage out of your closet and starts throwing your undies and bras from your drawer into it.

"Taehyung, please. What are you doing?" You looked over your covers, too lazy to move and do anything about it right now. You watched as he started rummaging through your pajamas and your socks, for whatever reason. "Tae, hello?"

"Come on, you need to pack. We have a flight to catch."

"Says who?"

"Says me." He smiles toothlessly, his bread cheeks poking out from either of his face as he holds up two airline tickets. Because you have terrible eyesight, you can't even make out the destination on the tickets and you don't even try to. It would be useless.

"Where are we going? I thought we were just going to stay home all week."

"I mean, that's always nice, but I saw that flights were cheap so I just bought 'em."

"So you just bought 'em? Really?"

"Miss girl, I don't have time to answer all of your questions right now. I can do that on the flight." He tilts his head and starts motioning for you to get up. "Come on, pretty please? It'll be worth it, I promise." You slightly whine, but you get up anyways and start to get ready for whatever this was. You throw on some comfy sweats and Taehyung's hoodie, then begin to pack your things. He says it's a tropical area [but 'not really,' he also says?], it's mainly humid and you'll be going into the water majority of the time. So, you pack a few bathing suits, a few light kimono type cardigans, shorts, crop tops and light jackets and call it a day. You've left whatever pajamas, underwear, socks and bras Taehyung had throw into your luggage cause at this point, you've learned that he does pay attention to what you pack and bring along.

And so that's what happened before you found yourself in a 1-bedroom Villa overlooking the ocean in Disney Aulani 8 hours later. You began to think this was planned all along, being that Taehyung had snagged a fancy room, with an ocean view and a fat bouquet of roses just waiting for you on the king-sized bed. Happy was an understatement.

Taehyung had made sure your entire week was filled with things to do, being that you both didn't know when you could go back to Hawaii like this. He rented out a jeep, driving you around the entire island of Oahu within the week's time, sight seeing, taking tons of pics together, stopping at food trucks, shopping small towns, and pulling random, small hikes together. He even made sure to take you to the Dole Plantation so you could grab that dole whip you had been raving about for so long and to the flea market to grab tons of cheap, fun souvenirs. He knew just what you liked, and he knew what would make you happy. He was happy to see you happy. Some days also were more lowkey, where you'd spend it at the various pools in Aulani's backyard, going snorkeling or paddle boarding, or even just going down the street at the ABC Convenience Store to binge on the cheap hot food [like $2 spam masubis!] and milk tea.

If it was easy to just snap your fingers and live somewhere else with Tae, it would be right here. Days moved so slowly on the island and you loved every minute of it. People really appreciated taking things slow here. Just imagining your life with Taehyung on an island like Oahu was *chef's kiss* - imagining your man in his shorts and fluffy hair in a loose shirt, waking up to the sounds of the beach every day. God damn. You truly loved him, and you'd go anywhere with him.

And Taehyung felt the same exact way, which is why he had one last thing planned before it was time to head back.

He had gone downstairs to grab some things as he says, but he had asked you to get dressed so he could take you on a fancy, romantic dinner. He had thrown on some slacks and a button up short-sleeved shirt tucked in, his curls messy but also not? Whatever you call it, he was fine as hell and you wanted nothing but to eat him up. Truthfully. You sat on the couch in a simple black, off the shoulder, mesh-like dress, which Taehyung also wanted nothing but to eat you up with the way you were swaying your hips in that dress. On everything, he almost wanted to call dinner quits just so he could have you instead.

But, he needed to stick to the plan for specific reasons. You sat on the couch, flipping through the channels when Taehyung had walked in and straight into the room. He had something tucked under his arm but you couldn't figure out what else he was fiddling with in his hands. Then, you heard him on the phone, faintly responding behind the walls with a 'sounds good, thank you!' before he opened the room door with a smile on his face.

"Ready for dinner?"

"Sure, weirdo." You laughed as you walked towards him, getting on your tippytoes to plant a kiss on his lips. He took your hand and led you inside the room, only for you to see the balcony lit with candles and a table for two set up, with a simple rose in the middle as decoration and soft music playing in the background. You had placed your hand over your mouth, speechless as to how he even did this right under your nose.

The best part [besides Tae himself] was the view of the ocean with the sun slowly setting in front of you.

"Welcome to Maison de Taehyung." He giggled with that deep, nerdy giggle of his that you love so much, making you playfully shove him away. Before you could make your way to the balcony, there was a knock on the door. Taehyung had welcomed Room Service in, allowing them to wheel in the food to the balcony and set the rest of the finishing touches before leaving you both to your privacy.

"Baaaaabe." You whined, almost in tears. He pulls you close, his large hands cupping your cheeks as he plants a kiss on your forehead. Your nose. Your lips. The butterflies.

He leads the way, pulling out your chair before sitting himself down. The food was amazing, the main course being a specialty the chef had whipped up just for Taehyung pulling his charm downstairs with the front desk. Typical Tae, really. You didn't need dessert, being that the main dish was super filling, but you ate it anyways because fuck it - you're in Hawaii with the love of your life and it was a bomb ass chocolate cake. You don't skip on that.

You sit on the bed as room service is quickly cleaning out the balcony, taking the plates and the table cloth along with them. You were full and satisfied, and you couldn't wait to just be in bed in Tae's arms. Dinner was special because not only did you get to eat this food with that view, but you got to talk to Tae about everything and anything. He indulged in every minute of it, giving you his undivided attention while the colors of the sunset bounced off of your skin. He loved you more than you even knew. He loved that he was here with you, and that you had taken a chance on him because this is where he wanted to be. This is the life he wanted, and this is the person he wanted to share it with.

"I'll be right back, baby."

"What are you up to now?" You giggled.

"Mmm, it's probably best you just wait." You nod silently as you watch him walk out of the room.

You stepped out into the balcony again in hopes of Tae joining you when he gets back, getting the last few bits of the sun right before it sunk into the horizon. Your phone began to buzz in your hands, signaling a call coming in.

"Jeon Jungkook." You answer his facetime call.

"Let me see Hawaii."

"You're too late, the sun literally just went down." He clicks his teeth.

"Maaaan. I would have liked an invite."

"Don't get mad at me fool, I didn't even know we had a flight until Taehyung busted into my room trying to pack my things." He laughs.

"What a guy."

"What do you want?"

"Jeez, that's no way to talk to your bestfriend."

"I'm on vacation, you should be lucky I didn't send your ass to voicemail. What do you want?"

"I just wanna talk to you guys. I'm bored."'

"Where's Hobi and Yoongs?"

"Being boring at their own homes."

"Jin?"

"Cafe."

"Jimin and Namjoon?"

"Jimin is home, Namjoon is downtown."

"Then sucks to suck, loner."

"You're a real piece of work, even in Hawaii." You laugh. "Where's Tae?"

"I don't know, he ran off again. He's been busy trying to surprise me with things left and right."

"Has he now?" Jungkook bites his bottom lip, knowing full well what's about to happen next. The whole reason Taehyung stepped out was to call him and calm his nerves. Was this Taehyung's bestfriend, or yours?

"Yeah, he's the best." You say, smiling to yourself as you fiddle with the top portion of your dress. You hear the front door close, assuming Taehyung had gotten back from whatever he was doing. "Uh, I think he's back, I should--"

"No, can't you just talk to me for like 5 minutes, Y/N?"

"Why are you so needy?" You chuckled.

"I just told you I was bored. I wanna say hi to Tae."

"Well when he comes here, I'll let you say hi."

"What else did you guys do today?"

"Uh, we took it pretty easy and played around at the beach."

"Cute."

"Baby, can you help me find something?" You hear Taehyung's voice right behind you.

"Sure." You say, keeping your eyes on Jungkook, who's chuckling to himself. You furrowed your brows at the camera. "What's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Go help him."

"Okay, hold on." You say, putting the phone down by your hip. You turned, only to jump back in surprise. "Taehyung!" You gasped, your hand over your mouth. Taehyung had been behind you the whole time, his 100 watt smile shining as he bent down on one knee, holding out a small case that held a fancy diamond ring.

"Look, you know I'm pretty bad with speeches but I think you already know how you make me feel. I just, I--" He did a slight head tilt as he chuckled and took another deep breath. "I really, really love you, Y/N. It's always been you. You've become my better half and I truly can't see my life without you." You begin to cry heavily, forgetting Jungkook is still hanging on to dear life by your hip. It all makes sense now.

Why the hell would Jungkook call you at this time?

"Will you spend the rest of your life with me?" He asks, tears welling up in his eyes watching you cry in front of him. Your words can't escape your mouth because you really don't even know what to say. You're speechless, and you didn't even expect this to happen right at this moment. You knew you loved him, and you knew you were set with him. But to have him propose on a night like this in Hawaii? Unbelievable.

You nod and he shakily slips the ring onto your ring finger before you wrap your arms around his neck tightly as he hugs you. You pulled back to kiss him, only to be startled by all the screaming coming from your phone. Taehyung laughs as he holds you and watches you bring the phone back up to your view, seeing Jimin, Namjoon, Hobi, Yoongi and Jin all in one frame with Kook.

"You fucking liar!" You yell at Kook, making him laugh his loud, elmo laugh.

"We love youuuuuuuuu!" Jimin yells from his position, with Jin blowing kisses into the frame.

"You planned this all along." You turn and say to Taehyung softly. He just nods and shrugs, making you bite your bottom lip as to how attractive he was for pulling all of this shit right under your nose. "I'm gonna have to call you guys back later."

"Ooooooh, ew." Yoongi says before you abruptly hang up the call and jump into Tae's arms.

He brings you into the room, you tossing your phone onto the dresser, causing Taehyung to laugh into the kiss. He sits on the edge of the bed as you grip his face softly, your tongues fighting each other for dominance as the kiss intensifies. You feel his hands start to unzip your dress from the back, causing you to bite his bottom lip and gently pull back. He lets out a small moan as he fiddles with the rest of your zipper and successfully gets the dress to fall from your shoulders, exposing your breasts from underneath. You arch your back slightly, allowing Taehyung to plant kisses down your neck and to your breasts, using his tongue to toy with each nipple one by one. He sucks on it gently, pulling back with a pop before he blows onto them, goosebumps rippling through your body. You quickly unbutton his shirt as he's kissing your neck, causing you to let out a small hiss feeling his tongue against your skin.

It doesn't take long before both of your clothes are scattered across one side of the room, Tae holding you close as you continue to straddle him. You grind your hips into his, feeling his hardened member rub against your throbbing pussy.

"Fuck." He whispers. "I can feel how wet you are." You bite onto your bottom lip as you position yourself onto his hardened member and slowly sink yourself down. You watch as his head tilts backwards, eyes shut while his mouth is slightly opened to let out a moan. You began to slowly rock your hips into his, his arms wrapping tightly around you. You loved feeling his warm skin against yours and his strong arms holding you close. "Baby." He moans. "God, I love you." He says as you start to pick up your pace, rocking your hips a little  quicker.

"Nnnnng--Tae." You let out a breathy moan, tilting your head back in pleasure. Your back slightly arches along with it, allowing Tae to let his hands roam up your back while he kissed you softly along your chest, down to your stomach and back up to your breasts. He loved every bit of you, and he wanted to show you. Every. Single. Inch.

"If you keep moving like that, you're gonna make me cum." He whispers, nibbling onto your earlobe while his hands guide you, pushing you to ride him faster. In which, you do. You grant your man's wishes and pick up the pace quite a bit. The least you could do is cater to him after what he's done for you this week. He's moaning your name, calling you baby and whispering how special you are to him in your ear, making it incredibly difficult for you to keep holding on while he does so. "You're so beautiful."

"Babe, I'm close." Your nose is touching his, his eyes locked onto yours. "Fuck, babe. I'm gonna cum." You whine the more your hips are working his cock. You feel every inch of him inside of you, tickling your core enough to send you hurdling over the edge in a matter of minutes. "Ohhhh, fuck!" You yell, your body tensing up as he holds you close with your hands tangled in his hair. It's not long before he fills you up, your walls pulsating around his member being the cherry on top for him.

"Mmmmmshit! Baaaaby." He elongates his moan, no other noises coming out of him as the sensation completely takes over his body. You wrap your arms around his neck while regulating your breathing, his member beginning to soften within you.

"I love you." You whisper in his ear.

"I love you too, fiancé." He says, causing you to giggle as he places a kiss on your shoulder before allowing you to get up and get cleaned up.

So, we're really doing this thing, huh?

This thing called life with Kim Taehyung.

Absolutely, yes. 100%. 

You'd do it over and over again, just as long as he was by your side.

[monstersandmaw]

Male drider x female reader - WIP, Part Two (sfw)

Edit which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

After a teasing Part One last week, here's 3.5k words of Part Two, featuring two poems, neither of which are my own... Things get off to a very rocky start between the lord of Widowsweb Court and the reader, with the drider not exactly behaving in a manner befitting a lord... Naril, the firbolg gardener that everyone seemed rather taken with, continues to be a complete cinnamon roll.

Hope you enjoy, despite 'his lordship's' terrible manners and behaviour... Part Three has just gone up on Patreon today. He also got dubbed ‘cranky spooder’ over on our Discord server, which I adore.

Enjoy x

On the day you first met the lord of Widowsweb Court, you’d opened up one of the enormous windows to breathe a little life back into the stuffy library.

Having spent four weeks getting to know the collection as it was, you’d taken the opportunity to dust a little as well. That had the added advantage that you were now able to let the air back in without fear of choking clouds of dust billowing up into your face. For a house as enormous as Widowsweb Court, you had been surprised to learn that the staff was so minimal - no more than Naril and his father, Chiara the housekeeper, a valet of the lord whom you never saw, and two other members of staff; one a cook, and one a maid.

Standing beside the heavy, ragged old curtain that dragged its hem on the floorboards like a sullen teenager scuffing their heels, you sighed and stared listlessly out at the enormous park beyond. There was something melancholy about it. The grounds were meticulously kept by Naril, not a leaf out of place, and yet it was deserted.

There should have been parties, the voices of people laughing, the chink of glasses and the murmur of conversation in the evenings as people gathered to watch the sun go down over the stunning vista beyond. Music should have floated across the terrace behind the house, washing out to mingle with the dancing splash of water in the fountain, but that basin with its fantasy carvings and rearing stone centaurs, laughing fauns, and wide-winged harpies remained silent and dry.

“Why is it so sad here?” you whispered to yourself, the backs of your knuckles trailing down the old, warped glass of the leaded window. The shutters of this window had been thrown wide too so that you could see what you were doing, and the light poured in over one of the three long, research tables that lined that half of the dour library. Over the course of the past week, you’d stacked books pertaining to poetry up into huge, teetering piles that now looked more like a model city than anything, with skyscrapers reaching for the moulded plasterwork of the triple-height ceiling.

A low, bitter voice from behind you made you jump. “The name didn’t give it away?”

You yelped and tensed, turning sharply to find a figure occupying the shadows between two looming bookshelves. Unable to see them behind the chiaroscuro contrast in the room, you squinted. “The name?” you croaked when you’d finally recovered your senses.

A long, black, needle-thin leg emerged first from the darkness and you almost recoiled in surprise before another appeared beside it. A drider. The voice belonged to a drider. “Widow’s web…” he said in his low, gravelly voice, the tone heavy and dripping with sour sarcasm.

“Oh.” You blinked and curiosity flared in you. “Do… Do you work here as well? I haven’t met you before…”

The emerging drider stopped, the shadows still concealing his upper body, but you could see that he was one of the deadly, flash-quick driders; slim-built and light boned, and probably full of venom. You swallowed. Perhaps he was some kind of security agent? Perhaps it was his job to keep an eye on the place and make sure people kept their distance from the place. Perhaps he had come to check up on you.

For a long moment, the drider remained silent, and then without a word, he flung a thin volume onto the nearest end of the table, only a yard or so from where he still hung back, half concealed in shadow, and turned wordlessly to go. “See that this one is shelved with the rest,” he growled.

You caught a flash of red on his spider’s abdomen before he completely disappeared. His needle-clawed legs made almost no sound on the floorboards, and if you hadn’t been so stunned by his unexpected appearance and behaviour, you might have gone after him to scold him for treating what had to be a first edition - everything else so far had been - so callously. By the time you heard a sharp creak and the soft click of a secret door closing somewhere, it was too late to follow.

So instead, you left the window and picked up the book. It was an anthology of poems, and as you let the volume fall naturally open in your hands, it revealed a short, painfully bitter poem.

And like a dying lady, lean and pale,

Who totters forth, wrapp'd in a gauzy veil,

Out of her chamber, led by the insane

And feeble wanderings of her fading brain,

The moon arose up in the murky East,

A white and shapeless mass.

No wonder he was so gloomy if this was the kind of thing he read. With a sigh, you closed the book and laid it with the other poetry anthologies, and spent the rest of the day trying to shake the encounter from your mind.

At lunch, Naril leaned over the table and frowned. “You alight?” he asked. “You look kind of… far off…?” It was just the two of you that day, with Naril having come in from the gardens a little later than usual, and his father having already eaten.

You sniffed and blinked, not realising you’d been staring into your bowl without really seeing it. “Yeah,” you croaked. “Listen… I’ve not really asked about… this place much. Why is it called Widowsweb?”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his lanky arms. He was tall, even for a firbolg, and that day he had scraped his long red hair back into a thin plait that hung down his back. His eyes, bright green, turned a little distant. “Apparently a dowager from the Silkfoot family had a falling out with her son, and he was so desperate to be rid of her that he exiled her here and gave the entire estate to his cousin who went with her. The two families diverged there, and never had anything else to do with each other since.”

So what Sarrigan had told you, about the two families being at least distantly related, was true. You wondered if the part about the Silkfoot family not liking humans had played a part in the disagreement. “I know one of the Silkfoots. Not well, but he’s a friend of a friend. He seems nice, but he says his family’s mostly awful.”

Naril was still watching you. “What’s brought this on?” he asked after a moment.

You took a breath and said, “I’m assuming your master is a drider then?”

Naril nodded. “Yeah. You… You didn’t know?”

You shook your head. “I hadn’t given it much thought, if I’m honest. Your father was the one who employed me and dealt with everything on behalf of your ‘master’. I… I think I met him this morning though.”

It was Naril’s turn to look a little surprised. He batted his long-lashed eyelids a few times and then barked a rough laugh. “Seriously?”

“Why is that so strange? He lives here. I find it weirder that I’ve not seen him yet.”

“He never shows himself to any of us. He lives in his wing of the house and literally never goes out. Chiara, and his valet Mason are the only two who ever interact with him directly.”

“Why?”

The firbolg’s surprise melted into something softer. “It’s said he’s cursed, but my father says that’s bollocks.”

“If he’s not cursed, then why? Why live as a recluse?” and why was he so rude?

Naril gave a half shrug and then stood, reaching across the table to collect your plate with his scuffed, scar-knuckled hand and take it to the sink. You murmured your thanks as you waited for him to speak, but he didn’t for a long time. You stood watching him, his shirt dirty and sweat stained, ripped here and there, presumably from the vicious thorns of the roses you’d glimpsed from the windows.

“He lost his wife and their entire clutch when they’d only been married a year or so,” he said at last. The splashing of water in the sink as he washed up almost masked his words, but something in your chest panged when you caught them. “People said he did it. People said he was cursed. People said his whole line was cursed.”

“People say a lot of cruel and stupid things,” a harsh, female voice interjected from the doorway behind you and you turned to find Chiara glowering at the pair of you. Naril cringed and turned his attention back to washing up. “You’d do well to ignore all of them, and repeat none,” she said, fixing her yellow eyes on you. The harpy’s tone was as sharp as her claws, and you didn’t fancy crossing her.

You nodded. You weren’t part of the staff, no matter how welcome Naril and his father had made you feel. You were here to reorganise the library, and then you were going to leave. You had been there for one out of your six contracted months already, and the task seemed gargantuan, but you were determined not to let it get the better of you. Time to get back to it.

“Chiara,” you said carefully, “We weren’t gossipping. I believe I met your master this morning, though he didn’t fully show himself to me. I just wondered who I’d met, that’s all.” With that, you turned and put your hand on Naril’s arm. “Listen, I’d better get going. Thanks for doing that,” you added with a twitch of your chin towards the soapy dishes in the sink.

He bowed his head, his large, cow-like ears waggling softly, and closed his eyes briefly. “Take care up there in the library, eh? Don’t go falling off something or lifting more than you can carry. You look worn out.”

“I am tired,” you said, cracking a yawn almost directly on cue. “I haven’t been sleeping all that well here. Could I borrow you tomorrow for half an hour or so? There’s a massive chest that’s been parked in front of a shelf and I need to move it to get to the books behind it.”

He grinned, his odd, almost feline nose twitching. One lip pulled back to reveal his blunt, herbivore’s teeth and he nodded. “Happy to lend a hand, you know that. After lunch?”

You smiled, feeling a slight heating of your cheeks, and turned for the doorway. “Thank you.”

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, and you finally cleared enough shelves to begin putting the first phase of your plan for the library into action.

Three days later, though only as you tucked yourself up in bed for the night, you realised you’d left your phone behind in the library. Cursing, you knew you’d have to go back for it if you were going to get up in time the next day to start work. No one formally kept track of your hours, but your professional pride demanded that you start work at nine, and you didn't fancy sleeping through til gods-knew when, especially given your erratic sleeping patterns of late.

Dressing hastily in jeans and a t-shirt, you grabbed the back door key, with which Mr. Ambleside had entrusted you after your first week on site, and let yourself into the main house.

If Widowsweb Court was creepy in daylight, it was unfathomably eerie at night. Pipes creaked and groaned sporadically, and a draft whistled up the corridor as you fumbled along the passageway that would lead to a servants’ staircase, and eventually, emerged onto the second floor near the library.

Were it not for the light of an almost full moon beaming in through the windows along the corridor, you might have missed the library doors altogether, but as it was, they illuminated the brass fittings so that they gleamed like gold, sparkling and winking at you almost fatefully. You scoffed at the thought, and pushed into the library, the door giving its usual raucous yelp on the hinges.

“Gods, I’ve got to get Naril to look at that,” you grumbled, moving across the floor and wondering if you dared turn all the lights on. Part of you expected a hoard of ghostly spectres to be drifting around the shelves like shades through gravestones.

Before you’d gone three paces, you froze. The whisper of a page turning caught your attention, and you swallowed, heart thudding. Again, you were not alone in there.

“Who’s that?” a sharp, male voice demanded from a table at the back of the room.

“It’s me,” you replied, immediately realising how stupid a thing that was to say to someone who wouldn’t have been familiar with you. You added your name, and followed it up with, “I’m working on the library catalogue.”

“At this time of night?” the scratchy baritone growled.

“I left my phone in here,” you said weakly as you stepped around a bookshelf and found him standing behind the furthest research table from the door. You knew immediately who it was, and your heart was thudding as you wondered just how well the lord of the manor would take it that you were sneaking about his house at this hour of the night. “I need it for my alarm in the morning.”

“It’s over there on the windowsill,” he said carelessly, moonlight running along his outstretched arm like mercury. From what you could see of his body, silhouetted against the light from outside, he was unhealthily thin, and he had long hair that fell loose and unrestrained down his back. He was also huge. Sarrigan was squat, fluffy as a tarantula, and muscular, but this figure was spindly and ominous, and built like a black widow.

“Thank you,” you croaked. “I’m… I’m sorry for disturbing you.”

As you picked up your phone from the sill, you heard him clear his throat, and glanced up to see him shifting a little. He looked like a nightmare demon from a shadow-play, all legs and pendulous body, but something about the angle of his head gave you pause.

He took a slow, rasping inhale. “How… is the work going?”

“Slowly,” you said with a rueful smile. “Mr. Ambleside might be a little out of touch with the collection… It’s larger than I was expecting.”

After a pregnant pause, the drider snorted softly and you broke into a nervous laugh at the innocuously-spoken innuendo.

“Anyway, on that note, I’ll leave you to it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” he said and you watched him walk towards the window. As he moved, you realised what was unnerving about him. One of his legs was missing. Where most driders had eight legs, he had only seven.

You thought about him all the way back to your accommodation, and even after you’d set your phone on your bedside table and lain back to stare at the ceiling, the master of the house still occupied your thoughts.

The next morning, you found your feet taking you to that furthest table, and there you discovered that a book had been left open.

The poem that graced these pages was older by many centuries than the one about the moon. It was written in a language that had long evolved beyond recognition, but you stared at it and trailed your fingers down the verse, murmuring the words aloud in the Old Tongue. It was one you’d studied at university during one of your shorter modules, and you barely remembered any of its translation.

Oft him anhaga     are gebideð,

metudes miltse,     þeah þe he modcearig

geond lagulade     longe sceolde

hreran mid hondum     hrimcealde sæ

wadan wræclastas.     Wyrd bið ful aræd!

You frowned, muttering words aloud until you’d muddled out a tiny bit of it. “Often, the one who is alone finds grace for himself, the… mercy…? The mercy of the lord? Although he, sorrow hearted… heavy hearted?”

“‘Sorrow-hearted’ works,” came a now-familiar voice from behind you and you jumped, nearly knocking the book from the table. This time you turned to find the drider advancing on you in full view.

Slowly, you let your eyes slide up his body to his face. He wore a crisp white shirt that looked like it had never been worn, the stark, monochrome contrast with his black spider’s body almost jarring. His hair was black, with a thick streak of bright, blood red falling around the right hand side of his face, which was gaunt and sallow, with dark shadows beneath his four red eyes. Around his right two eyes, his white skin was stained dark - almost purple - down his face and a little way onto neck, the birthmark looking like a swirl of watercolour. He blinked slowly at you, as if expecting something; waiting for you to say something rude or thoughtless.

With a start, you remembered the poem, and turned back to it. “Was this what you were reading last night?”

“Mmm. You’ve studied the Old Tongue I take it?” he said, and you turned to find him approaching slowly.

You tried not to let your gaze snag on the void where his leg should have been, and instead looked at the text again. “A little, and it was a while ago. I’m rusty… I think I remember this one. It’s called The Wanderer, isn’t it?”

He nodded, his hair sliding forwards like a black theatre curtain to hide his sunken face. “Not going to chide me for leaving it unshelved?” he sneered as he turned and headed once again for the back of the library. “I never did like librarians, you know?”

Grinding your teeth, and forcing yourself not to snap something rude at the person who was technically your employer, you said, “I’m an archivist, and this is your collection, not mine. One book being out of place is hardly going to though the whole thing into chaos, is it?”

He froze, on the point of leaving, and with an almost theatrical slowness, he turned to regard you. After fixing you with his eerie, red stare, he lifted one side of his upper lip and snarled, “I suppose not.”

And with that, he left you alone and unnerved again.

Work progressed at a glacial pace on the library, but you eventually moved from poetry to non-fiction: travel journals and histories, geographical texts and maps.

Naril grabbed you one bright, weekend morning after breakfast and dragged you out into the gardens for the first time. The two of you spent a couple of glorious hours touring the kitchen garden, the walled garden, the rose garden, the knot garden, and finally the orchards and arboretum. As the pair of you walked, hot and honestly quite tired, back up to the house for refreshments, your eyes naturally found their way to the library windows that overlooked the terrace and lawn at the back of the house, and you were surprised to find them flung open.

You paused and scowled.

“What?” Naril asked. “What’s wrong?”

“I was sure I closed the windows last night…” you murmured.

“Maybe the master is in there,” he said. “You know, I think you’ve seen him more than I have now. What’s he like?”

“Sad.” That was the first word that came to mind. “He strikes me as someone who’s incredibly sad. I’ve only seen him three times now, but each time he seemed so bitter and prickly. It’s like he’s curious about what I’m doing in there, but he doesn’t want to talk to me too much.”

You passed beneath the windows and slid into the house, sighing as the air of the cool stone passage wafted over your sun-warmed skin. No more than an hour later, you found yourself back in the library, but the master wasn’t there and the window was shut again. Easing yourself down into a comfortable chair beside the casement, you let your head loll against the back, and wondered if he ever set foot outside. If Naril was to be believed, the drider never left the confines of his wing for anything other than quick trips to the library.

After a while, you found your eyes drooping, and you inhaled deeply, letting the weight of a doze seep through you like the warmth of a hot bath.

A noise stirred you, and you opened your eyes to find that the light had changed to the vibrant magenta of a clear sunset, and that you were not alone. Squinting at the shelf, with his face far closer to the books than yours needed to be to read the titles, was the lord of Widowsweb Court.

You watched him in silence for a moment, not sure if he knew you were there or not, and took in the lines of his black legs - skinny, barbed, and deadly. The chair creaked as you sat up straighter, and he whipped around, dropping the book with a bang onto the floorboards and rearing up, his front legs rising like lances ready to strike.

“Sorry,” you gasped. “I didn’t mean to make you jump. I didn’t know you hadn’t heard me.”

As he lowered himself back down, you looked up into his face and the expression you found there made your heart stop. He looked furious. “Get out,” he barked. “If you’re not working in here, get out.”

Without another word, you rose and fled the room as sedately as you could muster.

Part Three --->

To be continued next Wednesday… Part Three is currently up on Patreon so you can read it right now on the Pixies and Goblins Tier.

I really hope you folks enjoyed this one! Don’t forget to let me know if you did enjoy it by leaving a like and/or reblogging it!

__

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[sweetchup]

Can I request a feitan x single mom reader?

The Spiders’ Way

Type: Feitan x Single mom! Reader

Au?: None

Word Count: 2,400+

Warnings: Mature Content, Yandere (Son and slightly Feitan), Abuse, PTSD, and Blood/Gore.

“Fei!” You screech, turning around fast. The short man only stares back at you, you couldn’t see his mouth but you could tell he had a sinister grin behind his skull collar. You glare at Feitan, causing him to let out a light snort. “That wasn’t funny Feitan,” you whine, rubbing your behind which he had just hit as hard as he could with a spatula. A metal spatula, “If you wanna do one of your torture session, take it somewhere else mister.”

“Watch what you say” Feitan growls, “Me sure you remember what happened last time.”

“Fei!” You whine, your face blooming up in a blush, “Kai will be home soon and My family is coming over for dinner!”

“Not my problem.” Feitan says, walking around to look at the many pictures decorating your wall. You sigh and use the opportunity of him being distracted to finish checking if the food in the oven is cooked. Checking the temp, you smile as you realized that the chicken and baked potatoes were finally done.

Puting the items on top of the stove, you finally go back to arguing with Feitan. Clearly knowing it could possibly get you in some trouble with the shorter man. “Well—“

“Mom I’m home!!” A young boy's voice echoes throughout the house. Your 11 year old son, Kai, was finally home after playing with his friends. You take a deep breath as you turn to Feitan. You were really worried for them to meet. It wasn’t because Feitan didn’t know about your son, you had actually told him before you started dating and he told you he honestly didn’t care, it was just…. it was going to be an interesting meeting. Especially with the fact that all of your previous boyfriends had weirdly broken up with you after meeting your son.

“Coming sweetheart!” You say as Feitan and you walk down the hall. Turning into the living room you see Kai was sitting on the couch reading a newly released horror book.

“Kai.” You call and the young boy looks up, “This is my boyfriend, Feitan. Fei, this is Kai, my son.”

You stand there anxiously as Kai gets up from the couch. You hold your breath as your son gently puts the book on the wooden coffee table. He quietly walks over to Feitan and as soon as he is in front of the man he sticks out his hand.

“Hello Mister Feitan!” Kai says, giving a pleasant grin. You let go of the breath you were holding and let out a sigh of relief.

Feitan looks over at you and raises an eyebrow. You had told Feitan your worries yesterday about the meet up, though it did come at a cost. He got mad due to the fact he thought that you underestimate him (even though you clearly didn’t). Let’s just say your throat was still sore today.

“W-well I’m going to leave you two to get to know each other while I finish prepping dinner.” You stutter out, leaving the boys to their devices.

You had walked about halfway down the hallway back to the kitchen when Feitan called you. You wonder what was wrong? It wasn’t like Feitan to call out to you. You were about to turn around to him when you felt a gust of wind and a sharp pain.

“Catch” He says, chuckling, and chucks the Spatula at you. You swear you were going to kill him if he continues to hit you on the ass with this goddamn spatula. Though maybe you shouldn’t have ever invited him to help you cook in the first place.

“Hey Mister Feitan”

Feitan turns to the child and lets out a ‘hum’, letting Kai know he is listening. He still couldn’t get why you were so worried about this kid. Sure, he didn’t like kids. Hell he hates kids, sometimes he even had to torture or kill them. But, still, he loves you, even though he does sometimes like to see you cry in pain or be in pain, he wouldn’t want to be really hurt or destroy you. And if the kid made you happy, he could deal with whatever bullshit the kid threw at him.

Kai's expression suddenly turns dark. “Did you know a person could get strangled by their own intestines?”

Well he surely didn’t expect that. Though, the kid had a good idea. He never thought of killing someone like that.

“Oh really? Me wants to know more…”

Kai glares at the man quickly before returning back to a smiling face. Man, this guy was a tough nut to crack. But he surely would break this man before the night is over. After all, this is his mother he is talking about. His sweet loving mother. Kai sighs, getting all happy thinking of his mother. He quickly snaps out of it. This wasn’t the time. He was on a mission, a mission to get this boyfriend to run away just like the ones before.

“Hmm~ I have tons. Let’s see…”

————☠️🕷☠️————

“Coming!” You shout as you finally put the last dish down onto the dining table. Thank goodness too since the doorbell had just rung meaning your family was here. Either that or the pizza delivery guy had gotten the wrong address again. Feitan was not happy last time when the pizza man interrupted you two while Feitan was trying out something new. You had to beg Feitan not to track him down and kill him.

Speaking of Feitan, You wondered how he and Kai are doing. As you were walking to the door you quickly stuck your head into the room to see the two hunched over Feitan’s phone. Aww, maybe Feitan lied and actually liked kids. You were also glad Kai has finally liked one of your boyfriends. Deciding not to interrupt the sweet moment between them, you continue on to open the front door.

Though unbeknownst to you, it wasn’t as innocent as it seemed. The phone they were hunched over was actually playing one of Feitan torture videos. More specifically a video of your old boss, who was previously sexually harassing you, being skinned alive. Kai giggled.

“So that’s what happened to him. I spent literally three weeks trying to track him down after he randomly disappeared.”

“Hmm. So your the tail Shalnark told me about.”

“Oh yeah. I had—“

“Man what a dump it is in here.” A male voice suddenly says, walking past the living room door.

Kai shoots up, scrunching his nose as he sees his grandfather. He still didn’t understand why you still made attempts at reconciling with your family. Especially after all the shit and mental abuse they had and currently still are putting you through.

While Kai was thinking, Feitan was making his way to you at the door. As he leaves the living room he bumps his shoulder with your sister, who rudely walked past him not looking up from her phone. He scrunches his nose up as he watches a Barbie doll from hell continue on down the hallway. Man how the hell were you two sisters.

“Mom. I don’t want him here”

“Now don’t be rude (y/n)!”

Feitan turns back to the door and freezes, anger flowing through every vein of his body. What the hell was your ex-fiancé doing here. Well, he knew you didn’t count him as your ex-fiancé due to the fact that it was an forced arranged marriage but it was all the same, since it was a man that had tried to steal you from him. Even if it had happened before he met you.

You sigh. It was no use. Your mother was one hell of a stubborn woman and it was going to be impossible to get your ex to leave without ruining the whole dinner. Oh, you don’t want Feitan—

You jump a little as you feel arms go around your waist but soon relax when you realize it was Feitan. Could he read minds or something? You swear if Chrollo got drunk and switched someone’s Nen again you would kill him.

“Now who’s this gremlin?” Paul, your ex, snears; blowing a puff of smoke in Feitan’s face. You go to rebut but before you do Feitan snatches the Cigar from the mouth of your ex and chucks it, outside, as far as he could. Your ex opens his mouth in shock while you are left trying not to burst out in laughter. Man were you glad Feitan was fast. “No smoking allowed inside.”

“Why you—!!“

“Mom!” “Oh— fuck... you, you little bra…t”

Now your face was bright red from trying to hold it in, you even heard Feitan let out a small chuckle. Kai had come running from the living room to give you a hug. While doing so, he jumped and kicked Paul right in the nuts. And we are talking hard since Paul likes to play soccer with his friends during recess.

Finally after a while and a couple of glares from your mother, you compose yourself. “L-lets go sit down for dinner.”

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

————☠️🕷☠️————

“Parc fo eceip...”

“Ah I’m sorry Fei. I didn’t mean to get you worked up.” You stutter; trying to wipe the tears off your face. You didn't mean to break down, you honestly didn’t. Especially when you walked into the kitchen to bring dessert. You dealt with all the shit thrown at you tonight, from insults to your cooking, to your lifestyle, to your looks, to your job, and much more. But you lost it when they brought up… brought up about how Kai was made, the night you got…raped. Just thinking about it left a vile taste in your mouth. It wasn’t because of Kai, you loved him with all your heart and soul, it was thinking about it brought you back to that night. Back to that high school party where you were drugged and forced into that bathroom. The dizziness you—

“(Y/n).” You look up at Feitan; you hadn’t realized you had almost forced yourself into a panic attack, “Calm down. Not your fault.”

“B-but—“

“What have me said about talking back?”

You let out a little laugh that Feitan still goes by his little rules even in a moment like this.

“Me will get them to leave. You go to bed.”

“Wait Fei—“

Your cut off as Feitan’s pulls your hand above your head and slams you against a wall. “Me order you not to argue.”

Leaning in, he growls and fiercely kisses you. You moan, blushing red, at the feral and animalistic fueled kiss. Not thinking it was quite a punishment, Feitan brings a free hand to your neck and squeezes. You sigh into the kiss as you could hear the blood rushing to your brain from the lack of oxygen. It was dangerous letting a man often fueled by torture do it but he did it so good. The tingling and dizziness you felt, proved it. After all, he did have a lot of practice.

Finally, as you're close to passing out, Feitan releases your neck and pulls away, leaving a couple of saliva strings still connecting you two. You stumble, dizzy from the lack of oxygen, and Feitan has to hold you up.

“Want to rebut again, (y/n)?”

“N-no, Fei-i”

Feitan lets go once he is positive you are stable on your own and you turn to leave. Though, of course, Feitan couldn’t let you off that easily. You yelp as you heard a large wack and felt a sting on your butt. Blushing you, hesitantly, continue up the steps. You were definitely throwing that blasted spatula out.

Once you were upstairs and Feitan had heard your door close, he opens up his phone and sends out a text. After the responder messages back, Feitan grins and walks back into the dining room. The family stares at the short man as he walks past them and to Kai. Leaning down to the boy who was reading his book, he whispers a couple of words in Kai’s ear which causes the boy to grin.

“Me is going to teach you the ropes, kid”

————☠️🕷☠️————

“H-huh? Where am I?!” Paul groans, opening his eyes. He blinks and his eyes widen as he looks around the dark and cold room. Where the hell was he? From what he remembered he got kicked out of (y/n)’s house from that pathetic shortass of a boyfriend. He couldn’t see what you saw in that creep of a man. Then, from there, he was on his way home when something dropped down on his car. It was a bear-like man— holy shit is that…

Vile comes up from his throat as he finally notices the tortured and dismembered bodies of (y/n) family members. He forces the puke down and begins to shake the chains wrapped around him, trying to get free. His blood turns cold as he is startled when he hears a giggle echo around the room. Looking to his left he sees a familiar face. “Y-you! You little shit!”

Feitan looks up from his book and turns to look at Kai who was staring and giggling at Paul. “Oh, You're awake.”

Standing up he walks over to Kai, touching the boy on the shoulder, “Kai.”

The young boy turns to look at Feitan. “Use what I taught you…. and do your worst.”

Kai grins, an evil grin, and Feitan leaves the room to leave the boy to his own devices.

“I didn’t know you were a protective father, Feitan.”

Feitan looks up to glare at Shalnark as he enters the main room of the hideout.

“Hey, hey. I’m not starting a fight,” Shalnark says, waving his hands as he jumps down from the rumble, “I was just curious.”

“Yeah Fei. I thought you hated kids.” Phinks shouts from his spot. Feitan tches as he hears all sorts of comments and theories from the other members. He was done with bullshit for today and turned away, deciding to just return back to Kai.

“Feitan,” Feitan pauses as he hears his boss call his name. He looks up at Chrollo who was sitting on the edge of a broken window. The two lock eyes and stare at each other for a while before Feitan turns away. Though things weren’t said between the two, the look Chrollo gave Feitan was all that was needed.

“Feitan. Teach the boy well.”

Feitan stiffles out a laugh as he enters the room. The boss didn’t have to tell him twice. A scream echoes around the walls of the room as he looks at Kai who was getting to the main part of his torturing. He stares at the young boy for a couple of minutes before letting out a small smile and muttering under his breath, “Me thinks maybe being a dad won’t be so bad.”

[bubbyleh]

undeath

“So, how’d you get all zombie?”

Gordon tears himself away from his social media scrolling on his phone to look over at Benrey, who’s leaning against him while playing on their Switch. They can obviously tell they’re being given a look, because they tilt their head back to see Gordon.

“What?” Benrey asks.

“You know there’s only, like, one way to become a zombie, right?” Gordon deadpans.

Benrey just blinks at him.

“Weren’t you a witch when you were alive, dude?”

“Yeah, that was like, bbbbbbb…” Benrey takes a second. “Five hundred years ago. Thought there might be new ways.”

Gordon sighs. “For your information, I was killed and then brought back by a witch who wanted to raise an undead army.” He grimaces. “It didn’t work out too well.”

“Where’d Joshie come from, then?” Benrey sits up, abandoning their game. “Is it, like, when you have a kid as a zombie it’s born as a ghost? Or did you have him before or something?”

Gordon gives Benrey another look.

“Joshua’s adopted, Benrey.”

“Oh.” Benrey lays back down, this time resting in Gordon’s lap. “Then where did you get him?”

“Well, uh…”

†††

The wind whips at Gordon as he wanders through the woods. The height of the trees only provides him momentary reprieve, as every moment he spends out in the open is another that he risks being literally torn apart. Being out during what he can only assume is a tornado warning is never a good thing, especially when your connection to your limbs can be described as “loose” on the best of days.

Gordon’s luck turns when, out of the corner of his eye, he spots a house. It’s clearly old and decrepit, but hey, an abandoned home is a monster’s best friend. He learned that, like, day one.

Slipping inside, Gordon’s first step is to fix up his hair, which has gotten pretty tangled. He didn’t think setting out on his own would be this stressful, but he’s gotta admit, it’s better than leaching off Bubby and Coomer for the rest of his unlife.

He leans back against the door, sliding down to the ground. He runs a hand through his hair in an attempt to work out all the knots, mentally reminding himself to keep an eye out for a comb.

Somewhere, lightning strikes. For a brief second, the house is lit up in a white light. Gordon swears he sees a small silhouette standing at the other end of the hall, but when the light fades, he finds that he’s alone.

†††

Gordon swears this house is haunted. When he breaks out a book Bubby had given him before he left, a strong wind suddenly tears through the house, causing him to lose his place and extinguishing the few candles he’d managed to find. He swears, every so often, he can hear the dishes rattling in the kitchen. His shoes, which he left by the door, end up being thrown in his face by an unseen force.

Funnily enough, when you’re already dead, the idea of a haunting isn’t that scary.

Which is why when Gordon feels a cold presence lurking behind his back, he doesn’t have much of an emotional reaction. He reaches out and snatches onto the presence, yanking them in front of him.

“Alright, what’s the big idea here?” Gordon asks, and he can feel the ghost thrashing against his hold.

“No no no no NO!” the ghost shouts, quickly dropping his invisibility act. Gordon’s a bit shocked to see that, no, he wasn’t imagining his smallness. This ghost is a child.

“Oh.”

“How are you touching me?! Let go!” The kid’s voice is almost unnaturally loud. Gordon loosens his grip almost instinctually, and in an instant, the ghost slips from his grasp and disappears.

Gordon scratches the side of his face in thought. “Huh.”

†††

The tactic Gordon employs is sort of like making friends with a cat. For a long while, as the stormy evening becomes the rainy night, he sits still and he waits. Between twiddling his thumbs anxiously, he reads his book. For a few hours, though, he gets nothing.

Then, around midnight, probably, Gordon feels a small hand tug at his shirt. And there, sitting on the ground facing him, is the ghost kid.

“Um, hi,” he says.

“Hey there, kid,” Gordon greets him with a smile.

The child glances at the book in Gordon’s hand. “What are you reading?”

“Oh, uh, this!” Gordon holds up the book to show him. “A friend gave it to me.”

He squints at the book for a moment. “Are there cowboys in it?”

“Cowboys?” Gordon tilts his head. “Uh, sorry kid. No cowboys.”

The ghost kid crosses his arms and pouts. “Lame stupid book, then.”

Gordon can’t help but laugh. “Well, I mean, I could ask my friend for a cowboy book, next time.”

He nods resolutely, and so Gordon adds that to his ever-growing mental list of tasks. “What’s your name?”

“Oh! Um,” the kid suddenly becomes nervous, playing with his fingers. “I’m Joshua, and… I’m a ghost! What- what about you?”

Just hearing Joshua introduce himself makes Gordon want to scoop him up and pinch his cheeks. He’d always wanted to be a parent when he was alive, but the whole dying thing really put a damper on his plans there. Still, though, the paternal instinct was apparently still going strong.

“I’m Gordon, and I’m a zombie.” He holds out a hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

For a second, Joshua hesitates. Then, he reaches out, shaking Gordon’s adult hand with his little one.

Something in the back of Gordon’s head tells him that he should stay longer than tonight. And so he does.

†††

“You stole Joshua!”

Gordon gasps at the accusation. “I did not!”

Benrey cackles, sitting back up and pointing at their boyfriend. “You totally did! You stole a kid and now he’s yours!”

“He was all alone! It’s not stealing if he’s alone!”

“Oh, whatever!” Benrey places a hand on Gordon’s shoulder. “I’m going to steal him from you, now. Right the wrong.”

Gordon sighs. “Benrey, he’s practically your son, too.”

Very suddenly, Benrey’s laughing halts. Gordon’s worried that he may have taken things a bit too far with that. Maybe Benrey wasn’t ready to commit to being a parent yet? Fuck, he’s ruined their whole relationship now.

Benrey starts crying.

“W-wait a second, Benrey!” Gordon reaches out, ignoring how ridiculous it is to cradle Benrey’s pumpkin head. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Benrey sniffles. “‘S just-” They wipe tears away from their face. “You mean it? Joshua can be my kid, too?”

Gordon’s heart melts. “Of course, Benrey,” he assures them. “You’ve gotta ask him, first. But hey, if Joshua wants two dads, who am I to tell him no?”

Benrey springs to his feet. Before Gordon can ask them what they’re doing, they bolt out of the den, shouting Joshua’s name.

And there, sitting alone on the couch, abandoned by his partner, Gordon realizes something.

This, right here, the people in this crypt. He got the little family he always wanted ten years after he died, and he couldn’t be happier for it.

[gryffindormischief]

Kiss prompt n° 10 with James and Lily? Please?

A/N: AHHH I HOPE YOU LIKE @constancezin​

hehe @petals-to-fish​ here is the context

staring at the other’s lips, trying not to kiss them, before giving in

FF and Ao3

She’s doing this on purpose and no one will convince him otherwise. 

James is really trying to be a gentleman, act like this is their first date (which it is) and not just swipe his arm across the table and lie down so maybe she’ll devour him instead of the souffle.

Which is saying a lot, because he slaved over this stupid meal for the majority of the day and spent a good number of hours this week planning the menu. Because he’s an overdone, melodramatic, hyper-invested crazy person who daydreams about licking the fudge off something other than his spoon.

When he emerges from his naked dessert fantasy, it’s only to find Lily eyeing him with a teasing smirk. (Because she’s actually evil and he would say so but she’d probably just smirk some more and then where is he?)

“Alright there James?”

He drops his spoon to the table with a clatter. “You know it’s not that smooth, the whole ‘alright, James?’ thing.”

���Dunno, I think it can work if wielded properly - in the right context.”

James watches as Lily polishes off her wine (Sauvignon Blanc because he bloody googled wine pairings for dessert) and sets it down on the table. “I seem to recall getting my arse handed to me for using almost that exact phrase.”

She shrugs and splits the remaining wine between them. “Like I said, need the right context.”

Leaning back, James tries to keep his focus off Lily’s tongue as she runs it over her upper lip. “And what would that be? Just an example to work from.”

He’s just taken a long, deep sip when she answers, “Probably from somewhere between my legs.”

(This is when he learns what Sauvignon Blanc feels like coming up your sinuses.)

As he swipes at his face with one of the serviettes he’d folded into a flower (like a ponce) and scowls. “I hate you - and don’t say ‘Alright Potter?’ because I’ll - ”

The pause comes necessarily, as it coincides with Lily’s maintained eye contact and slow unbuttoning of that horrible (amazing) sundress that flounces and shows nothing but everything. He may hate (love) her.

“You’ll?”

“Shit.”

“I’m not into that - ”

James shoves away from the table and grabs his plate and hers, gesturing with the edge, “Help me clear.”

For the first time, she looks a bit knocked off kilter (finally) and starts to scramble for something to say. Which, he’ll admit is justified. He’s being very odd. But the blood flow in his body is all wonky and she’s just. Lily.

He comes to a halt and sits back down, plates piled messily. “I know this is technically our first date and - ok I want to pick up on that little ‘between the legs’ line you dropped but I also fear that if I interpret your intentions wrong I’ll end up getting something thrown at my head.” (He borrowed them from mum and does not want to explain why they’re smashed)

Lily quirks her brow. (Does she do anything that he doesn’t find attractive?) “Is there more than one way to interpret that statement?”

“I dunno,” James moans, head thrown back against his chair, “You’re a very complicated human.”

She pops open another button, enough now that one strap falls from her shoulder and reveals how very little she’s wearing. “And you are a very dense human.”

A little growl leaves his throat. “I - do you know how long - my - you - “

“James if you don’t throw me over your shoulder and lay me down on those sheets I know you freshly laundered ‘just in case’ I will start throwing Euphemia’s dishes.”

“How did you - ”

Lily shoves her chair back with a clatter and brings one foot up on the seat, working the buckles on her sandal open. “James, I have waited for two years and dropped so many hints I think Sirius’ eyes are actually perpetually rolled by now and if me literally asking you to stick your face - “

He stumbles his way around the table and brushes her hands away from her foot. “Let me.”

His fingers stutter on her ankle when she presses her chest against his back, nips at his ear. “James.”

One foot is free now, little pink-painted toenails fully revealed, and James waits for her to lift the other. “James.”

He grunts, and the second is undone.

And then, like a true romance novel hero, he hefts her over his shoulder to her chuckles and doesn’t pause (just offering a quick warning to duck to avoid the doorway as they head down the hall) until he’s tossed her on the beautifully made bed.

(Yes, it is all freshly laundered.)

“Now what?”

Lily pushes up on her elbows, the comb holding back half her hair slipping out, her dress gaping open, and one foot propped on the bed so he can see - 

“I thought you’d be able to ad-lib from here, James.”

He would like the record to show first, that he is generally a suave person. Girls like him, he’s a professional hockey player (who has all teeth and minimal nose breaks), and he’s a respectful flirty arsehole. Second, that Lily Evans full on gawks when he whips off his shirt. 

(She asked for an ad-lib, she got it.)

While she’s occupied, he toes off his trainers and gets up close and personal with the foot of his bed, dragging Lily to the edge and makes to toss her legs over his shoulders. But then she does that thing…the whole ‘heaving chest, licked lips in anticipation’ bit and he can’t help but crawl up the bed and slant his mouth over hers. 

His tongue swipes between her lips on her gasp that quickly turns into a moan. “James.”

Lily’s hands map his shoulders, the rippling muscles of his back, while he sways his body into hers. “Hell, Lily.”

Her palms slip under the waistband of his jeans and squeeze. 

(It makes him hate ‘squat day’ less when she hums appreciatively.)

“If you - ah - are taking requests I wouldn’t mind that little ‘between the legs’ scenario,” Lily sighs as he works his way down her throat, pushes open her sundress.

“Such a princess.”

“I’m queen,” she pauses to gasp when he nips at her belly button, “Thank you very much.”

James nuzzles at the skirt of her dress and then flips up the hem and finds some pale blue lacy knickers that he half admires, half hates for keeping him from moving further as quickly as he’d like.

(Though it does present a delicious teasing opportunity.)

Lily growls when his lips press against the flimsy fabric, grabs at his hair wildly when his nose skates over her inner thigh. James hums. “Well then, my Queen,” he pauses for another kiss, “Is now the appropriate time?”

“For what, you damn arsehole, prick, idiot,” she blows out a breath and James nudges the fabric, “Just - ”

Her sentence dangles and she loses her train of thought as he drags the lace down her thighs, lets it dangle on one ankle as he lifts her legs back into place over his shoulders. Lily sighs and he smirks against her. “Alright, Evans?”

[tlbodine]

An Irritated Review of an Aggressively Bad Book

As a child of the 90s, I cut my teeth on R.L. Stine’s books. Goosebumps in elementary school, graduating up to Fear Street -- with its guts and gore! -- by my tweens. But the time came when I had voraciously consumed all of the R.L. Stine at the library, and I hungered for more books in the same vein. 

Which led me to Christopher Pike. 

Christopher Pike was another of the “Point Horror” series writers popular through the 80s, and they were an obvious thing to recommend to a budding young horror fan (especially as his books tended to be popular with young girls, thanks to the romantic subplots they often featured). But I just never really enjoyed them. I read a handful, shrugged it off, and eventually moved on to reading Stephen King and other adult authors instead. 

Which brings us to this motherfucker. 

@comicreliefmorlock​ sent me a small stack of vintage YA horror titles, because reading ridiculous cheesy teen thrillers sounded like good nostalgic fun. 

But this book isn’t the fun kind of cheesy. It’s the kind of cheesy that drives me to start blogging in irritation at 12:57 am. Because this book isn’t just bad, it is aggressively bad, and it says a lot about 1984 and the state of horror fiction and YA fiction and publishing in general that this fucking book launched Christopher Pike’s career. 

So let’s talk about this sumbitch below the cut.

The story is about a group of teens who meet up for a ski weekend. The girls were all very close when they were younger, but drifted apart after an accident that left one friend badly burned and her little sister dead. The burned-friend is the one whose family owns this very fancy house and so graciously invited everyone to come hang out. 

Our characters don’t really get much in the way of actual characterization, but here’s the cast: 

Nell, who has some facial scarring and whose family is apparently loaded

Nicole, the dead little sister

Lara, the main character (ostensibly)

Dana, who likes to eat and crack jokes (funny fat friend solidarity fist bump)

Rachael, the gorgeous blonde beauty rival of Lara

Mindy, who chews gum

Celeste, a shy girl with back problems who they’ve befriended somewhat recently 

They arrive and hand over their keys to a park ranger to valet-park their car while marveling at how they don’t really know if he was a real park ranger, because I always give my keys to strangers when visiting an isolated location. Celeste asks some innocent questions about why the group hasn’t hung out recently, and the group neglects to mention the dead sister, but the reader figures it out. 

Don’t worry, we’ll hear all about that in a moment. But first there’s a small, stupid mystery about a disappearing snowman, that melted really fast like it was burned and Lara will continue to fixate on this for the rest of the book. 

They spend a little time getting settled in before hitting the slopes. Celeste and Nell hang behind despite being the two people at this gathering who presumably don’t know each other, but they hit it off great right away so good for them. 

At the ski lodge, they run into a pair of boys that Rachael and Mindy know -- Percy and Cal. Lara falls into an instant and irritating infatuation with Percy for some reason, deepening that rivalry with Rachael. Cal creeps on Dana, trying to grope her when they get a minute alone, but Mindy of course gets jealous of Dana for horning on on her man because of course she does. 

Note: The book was written by a man in 1985. 

Anyway, at the ski slopes, Dana disappears, and everyone kind of assumes she’s just trying to avoid Cal even when they find one of her skis sitting in the middle of a very mysterious patch of snow that seems to have some ash and ice in it (just like the snowman! gasp!) but it’s probably fine! 

Somewhere in here we get an entire chapter told in italics to provide helpful background information about how Nicole died -- which involved a bunch of 6th graders at a sleepover getting drunk from stolen brandy in the liquor cabinet, deciding to hold a seance, knocking over a candle, catching Nicole on fire, and then Lara trying to put her out with the brandy (because it’s wet!) and that of course creates a Nicole-Flambe situation. Nicole is whisked away to the hospital and dies there and Lara is wracked with guilt and so forth and so on. 

And scene. Back to the present, where Dana is still missing, they can’t find the ranger who has their car keys, there’s a storm bearing down on them, but of course the most important thing is whether Percy likes Lara better than he likes Rachael. They invite the boys to come over that night. 

Dana’s not back at the house, so Lara calls the lodge to ask for them to have her call if she shows up, but otherwise big shrugs about the friend’s disappearance and presumably being lost in the middle of a storm. Celeste is scandalized that they were going to eat cold cuts at a party and sets to dressing and roasting two whole chickens and a bunch of side dishes, which is of course an extremely normal thing for a teenager to do at a party. 

The boys show up, and Lara feels kind of bad about not really caring where Dana is, except not guilty enough to do anything about it. Dana, you’re too good for these people, get better friends. 

Anyway, they eat and do some drinking then play charades, which Celeste and Nell are eerily good at (hmmmm) and then Cal creeps on Celeste which starts a whole argument culminating in Percy punching him in the face, Cal stumbling backward, and Mindy’s arm catching fire because Nell had bitchily thrown alcohol at her earlier. They throw out the boys and start doing some first aid on Mindy, including dosing her on some codeine that they conveniently have lying around. 

Percy’s gotta go, so Lara walks him out in the woods, refusing anybody else’s offer to come with her so she doesn’t get lost because she wants to make a move on him. There’s some painful flirting, some kissing, some talks about pyrokinesis and the mysterious Dana disappearance (and the snowman! that damned snowman!) and also Percy has a flare gun in his pocket for some reason. 

Gag. Ugh. But ok, fine, Percy gives her the flare gun, presumably because he’s letting her walk back through the woods alone in a blizzard. She scoops up some of the ice from Dana’s disappearance-spot to bring home for evidence and then goes to bed. When she awakens, the ice has melted and she can see bones! and ash! Ahhhh! 

This causes her to panic, so she runs out of the house at 3am into the woods and then, idk, freezes or something. Cal is there for some reason? She conveniently blacks out and awakens to find herself tied up in Nell’s basement. But hey look, Dana’s here! And so is Rachael! 

We helpfully learn that Dana’s been tied up in a closet this whole time. Also, SURPRISE! Celeste isn’t actually Celeste, she’s Nicole! (in case this wasn’t already painfully obvious from all of the foreshadowing). She didn’t die after all! She just assumed an entirely new identity! She was just pretending not to know who Nell is! 

Never mind that Celeste has parents who we have literally talked to in this book (they briefly call to check on her and Lara speaks to them instead). Apparently Nicole’s family....gave her up for adoption? but she’s still really close to her sister? Or else Lara somehow doesn’t realize that Celeste’s parents are Nell’s parents? Literally no part of this is explained in a way that makes any sense at all. 

But anyway, turns out this whole weekend was just an excuse to get everybody together so that Nell and Nicole/Celeste could get revenge by dousing them in kerosene and burning them alive. Like you do. 

There’s a lot of waffling and trying to win over Nicole with the power of friendship, and then she changes her mind about the plan but Nell doesn’t, which leads to some dramatic scuffling and ultimately Lara shoots Nell with Chekhov’s flare gun, but it’s totally OK because her expression is “the most peaceful” Lara has ever seen so that’s cool, and then they manage to rescue Mindy before the house blows up.

From there, we’ve just got some loose ends to tie up. We’re rescued by the suspicious ranger from earlier who it turns out actually is a ranger, so that’s cool. How did he find them? Why, that strapping young man Cal tipped him off that they might be in trouble! 

You heard it here first, folks. Cal, the guy whose characterization up to this point has been “gropes girls without consent” and “tells funny war stories about napalm” is actually the real hero here! What a find stand-up young gentleman that serial offender is. 

Also, again, Dana, you are too good for these people, find new friends. 

Anyway, the girls end up in the hospital, where they promise a vow of secrecy but also Lara and Nicole are totally going to be best friends now, no harsh feelings. Also Lara is totally going to hook up with Percy, because that was definitely the most important thing to come from this weekend and she’s definitely not in any way going to be traumatized about any of this. 

The end. 

distant gagging sounds

[opheliawritesxo]

Jefferson & Leroy Street

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Inclusive!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes is an idiot, Y/N Stark is an idiot; Steve Rogers just wants them to kiss and make-up. So he plays matchmaker. How hard can it be to get two idiots in love? Apparently not as easy as he thinks.

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: strong language, mentions of a horrible ex, angst with a happy ending

A/N: if anyone sees this fic on AO3 don’t worry about it, it is my own work I just thought I'd change it to a reader insert.

It’d been a long day; University had been busier than normal in the lead up to exams. They just kept telling their self - one more year - when in reality they still had to find a graduate job. What can one actually do with a degree in Criminology?

Unlocking the door to the flat they shared with their two best friends, they groaned at the mess. For two super soldiers, they sure knew how to create a mess. Steve Rogers, the famous Captain America, was currently away on a mission but Bucky was still here having not been needed for this particular mission.

“You had one job dickwad! One job!” They shouted as they looked at the state of the piled-up dishes. They had a bloody rota for a reason, god they missed the days of dishwashers and living at home with their parents.

           There was silence, frowning they searched every room before finally calling to F.R.I.D.A.Y and asking where the hell was Bucky?

“I’m afraid he stepped out over an hour ago Mx Stark, I can find his location if you wish?” The Irish lilt echoed throughout the empty flat. They groaned; they didn’t want to bother him in case he’d been called on a mission.

“Nah s’alright, but thanks anyway F.R.I.D.A.Y.” A weak smile crossed their face, they might as well clean the flat whilst they waited for Bucky to arrive home.

           Bucky never arrived home that night. They waited up as long as they could after giving the flat a thorough clean but when they woke in the morning it was clear he hadn’t come home. Their keys were still in the door. Groaning as they rubbed the back of their neck having fallen asleep on the couch, they checked their phone.

No messages.

That instantly put them in a pissy mood, they were a worrier; always had been, always will be.

           They knew it was going to happen, getting distracted beyond belief at Uni. Trudging back to the flat they could smell the aromatic aroma of Italian cooking. Clumsily opening the door, their face fell a little when they noticed Steve’s shield by the door.

“Are you.. are you seriously standing here cooking in your bloody uniform?” They snorted; well at least that was a sight to brighten their day.

“I was hungry!” He whined.

“Thought you were Bucky.” They muttered, grabbing the blonde’s shield and moving it to the cupboard. It was more so they wouldn’t trip over it as they had done a hundred times before.

“Well it’s his Ma’s recipe so I can see the confusion.” He smiled giving them a kiss on the cheek as they moved within reaching distance. “How was class?”

“Oh, you know.. the usual.” Plonking themselves down at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. “Say.. you wouldn’t happen to have heard from Bucky have you?”

“Yeah, he’s at some dame’s place.. he never told you?” He frowned; they hated that frown.

“Oh yeah, shit I forgot. Of course!” They spoke quickly, they were already pissed at Bucky; it wouldn’t do for him to be ganged up by both them and Steve. “How was the mission?” Quickly and effortlessly changing the subject. Giving Steve the chance to rant about everything and anything he could reveal about the mission. While he spoke, they sent a text to Bucky.

Sent at 4:56PM

You could have told me you were going to get laid. Next time do the dishes before you go and get your dick wet. That is all.

After eating the wonderful food that Steve had prepared, how they could still fit through the door with both of them being amazing cooks they’ll never know; they headed through to their room to do some studying.

They woke up at 3am to her bedroom door being thrown open.

“Jesus Christ!” They squealed, practically falling out of bed as they watched Bucky saunter in.

“What the fuck is this?” Holding out his phone, they squinted at his phone screen being the only light source in the room. Flicking on a light they glared at him.

“It’s three in the fucking morning James, what the ever-loving fuck are you doing sauntering in here like you own the place!” They shouted; they didn’t care if they woke Steve up at this point.

“I do actually own the place..” They groaned

“It’s an expression you idiot! Can we talk about this in the morning? I don’t know why you’re pissed at me! You’re the one that didn’t tell me you were heading out and also left the flat in a god-awful state!”

“Oh, get over yourself! Why are you always so fucking clingy Y/N? It’s ridiculous!” That broke their heart, they knew they were clingy; they always had been, but Bucky had always liked it. —or so they thought.

“I was just worried about you.. I didn’t know where you were.” They muttered, feeling terribly small with the towering figure above them.

“You don’t need to know where I am every second of everyday Christ. Stop being jealous just because you haven’t been laid in months. How is Nathan anyway? Still fucking your ex best friend?” Well that was a low blow, it was clear no one anticipated the slap when it came.

“Fuck. You.” They growled, grabbing their jeans; pulling them on angrily as they moved to grab their coat.

“Y/N, darlin’ it’s late. Come on we’ll got through to my-“ Steve was interrupted by the front door slamming. “The fuck Buck?” He said turning to his best friend.

“Don’t Steve.. just don’t.” The former asset muttered as he moved through to his room, slamming the bedroom door shut.

“Fucking hell..” Steve muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. “F.R.I.D.A.Y, please track them and let me know the minute something isn’t right okay?”

           When they arrived back at the flat four hours later, Steve was already opening the door to her before they could even get their hand on the handle.

“Bloody intelligent busy body in the ceiling.” They muttered to herself as they trudged in. Toeing off their shoes, they headed to their bedroom but were stopped by the ever-righteous grandpa.

“We need to talk about last night.” Steve’s voice was soft, but it held a commanding edge to it, they couldn’t be fucked with that in that moment.

“No, we don’t, Barnes made everything crystal clear. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have class in an hour and a half.” They grunted, hands on his chest to push him out of the way.

“Y/N.. he was- “

“If drunk is about to come out of your mouth I’m whacking you with your own shield. He can’t get drunk; well all know that so why don’t you stop coming up with excuses for his behaviour and just ‘get over yourself’ like I’m doing huh?” Expression blank, but the tears that were starting to well in their eyes were clear for anyone close enough to see.

“You went to Nathan’s.. Y/N, that’s not.. we talked about this. You were doing so well.” He whispered, holding onto their upper arms to keep them in place.

“I waited Steve, I did what you said, and I waited for him to come around. Every-time I tried to make the first move it didn’t work. Bucky doesn’t want me; I’ve accepted that now.. maybe it’s time you do too. Matchmaker isn’t really your biggest strength.” A weak smile on their face as they finally pushed their way out of his grasp.

Heading down the corridor she saw Bucky’s door slowly close, he’d obviously been listening in. Typical. Rolling their eyes, they headed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind them.

           It had been a week since the incident. Both Bucky and Y/N hadn’t left the flat which was more concerning on Y/N’s behalf due to the fact they’d missed a whole week of University. The final straw was when Tony cornered Steve after a briefing asking why he’d gotten an email from the University saying his child hadn’t been attending classes.

He hated being cornered by a protective Tony, especially since they were tentatively trying to build a relationship together. Totally hush hush at the moment; only the two of them aware. Stomping into Y/N’s room he frowned when he saw them staring into space.

“Enough. Get dressed and get the fuck out of here for a couple of hours. Please I’m literally begging you. You’re both driving me up the wall.” It took a couple of seconds for Y/N to grasp that Steve was in the room speaking to them.

“And where exactly do you want me to go?” They mumbled into their duvet.

“Anywhere that isn’t Nathan’s or somewhere dangerous.” Going into their wardrobe he started throwing clothes at them. “If you’re not ready in ten I will barge right back in here you hear?”

“Jesus Steve.. I’m going, Christ.” She muttered, shooing him out the door so they could get ready. Maybe a night out would be nice, they could go for a couple of drinks.

           When they finished getting ready, they side-stepped Steve before they collided with him. Sending a mock salute his way they grabbed their shoes and headed out the door. There were a few bars within walking distance, so they ended up at the first one on their path. Slipping inside they sat themselves down at the bar, ordering a whiskey neat.

“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in” Mouthing a ‘fuck’ into their drink they turned to see Nathan.

“What do you want?” They grumbled, arms crossing over their chest. He scoffed.

“I can’t believe I don’t even get a hello when I so kindly let you sleep on my couch last week. Didn’t even get a thank you.” Rolling their eyes at him.

“I’m pretty sure letting me crash on your couch is the least you could do after ruining three years of a relationship by shagging Caitlin.”

“I was expecting at least some thank you head, but you never were one to give, were you? Always take, take, take.” He purred; they could smell the booze off him as he made himself at home in their personal space.

“Fuck off Nathan, I’m not in the mood tonight.”

“When were you ever in the mood, I’m sure I can get you there though. Always knew your-“ He didn’t get to finish his sentence as a metal arm had him lifted halfway off the ground. They couldn’t help but snort at the fear in Nathan’s eyes.

“Want to finish that sentence?” Bucky growled. They couldn’t help but bite their lip, they’d always had a thing for pissed Bucky; as long as it wasn’t aimed at them but then again. A hand on their arm snapped them out of their daydream. “We’re going for a walk.” His hand slipping into theirs as he dragged them out the bar.

“Oh, we are, are we?” They muttered; the silence grew between them as they walked down the block. “Thanks.. for that back there. I- I didn’t sleep with him by the way. Just crashed on his couch.” They admitted. “I’m an idiot, but I’m not stupid.”

“No one said you were.” They pulled on his hand as they got to a bench, pulling him down to sit next to them.

“I am. I’m sorry about the text.. I was just so worried. You know what I’m like, the world’s worst over-thinker.” Bucky groaned, running a hand over the back of his neck.

“I’ve been a prick.” He grunted, looking at them with sad eyes. “Do you remember the night you caught Nathan?”

Frowning they tried to remember what happened. “You took me to that club? You said something like ‘it’s more or a distraction for me so I don’t rip the bastards throat out?’ Or something along those lines?” He chuckled softly; their heart stopped for a moment — god they’d missed that sound.

“Yeah that’s right, you then proceeded to get fucking drunk off your ass and you said you can’t remember anything else from that night?” They shook their head.

“Nah, I’m pretty sure that was it.”

“Well.. I’m gonna remind you of something right now just.. bear with me.” He mumbled, cupping their chin in his hand; he kissed them. Right there, on the corner of Jefferson and Leroy street. Their hands moved to clutch at his shirt, hazy memories filtering in. Loud music, colour, Bucky, heat, cool metal wrapped around them, Bucky, hands in silk strands, the taste of whiskey and something ultimately Bucky.

“Fuck I kissed you, in the middle of the dance floor..” They whispered as they pulled back, fingers moving to press lightly against their lips. They couldn’t believe she forgot.

“There’s an endless number of things that I wish I could forget darlin’, but I couldn’t forget that. Played in my mind for days. I realised quite quickly you didn’t remember it and you were still getting over him. Then you started to flirt with me and I just; I couldn’t take it.” Their heart was breaking.

“Buck.. I’m so sorry!” They croaked, taking both his hands in theirs; thumb stroking over the back of the smooth metal. “If I’d remembered I would’ve- “

“Thought I was gonna be your rebound or somethin’ and I couldn’t deal. Pretty sure you engrained yourself in my very soul from the day I met your cocky little ass.” His eyes were glued to the ground, but they weren’t having it. Grabbing his face in their hands.

“You never would’ve been a re-bound for my James. You understand me? I’ve loved you from the minute I met you. I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you, I’m hopelessly, utterly-“ They hated being interrupted but they were pretty sure they could make an exception for Bucky’s lips on theirs. It was softer than they remembered, like they were something precious. That’s when the tears started to fall —no one had ever treated them like that before, like they were something to cherish.

“M’not good with feelings and emotions, life ain’t been too kind to me but I know that I love you and I want you. Every part of you. So m’gonna say it now. You’re mine, you’ll always be mine. Even if we can’t be together; you’ll always be engrained in-“ It was their turn to cut him off, kissing him hard; throwing their very soul into the kiss.

“I��m yours Buck, forever and always I’m yours.” They whispered. Chuckling softly, he brushed the tears from their face.

“That’s what I was hoping you were gonna say.” There on the corner of Jefferson and Leroy, two idiots finally got their happy ending. If Steve looked extra smug the next day; Tony would think it was because of him but in reality, it was because of the two thank you texts he’d received from the two idiots. His two favourite idiots.

[thirstythylacine]

Stress Relief

Alright. This damn band and fandom has got the best of me finally.

Haven't written in over 10 years. Definitely never written smut before.

I've given in! There are pages and pages of smut notes in my journals, phone, and computer so I guess this is my new hobby in quarantine.

Relatively unedited so apologies there. 

Yell at me here, or yell at me on AO3 under the same name. 

Also I have a very limited knowledge of how the hell this cursed site works despite being on it for most of its existence. So if there's shit I didn't tag correct here let me know.

Also Tumblr apparently hates making the italicized bits appear here so I’ll reblog this in a sec with the AO3 link if you, like me, really like seeing the emphasis :)

I am otherwise too lazy currently to figure it out or fix it and I’m already reposting this since Tumblr also apparently hates outside links! Thanks Hell Site. 

STRESS RELIEF

He’s been working on this project for a week straight and as usual it’s cutting into personal hours. Though that doesn’t faze him, scribbling notes in the margin of this current translation and completely forgetting to call for dinner. It’s 10:30 at night and I’ve brought him ever meal today as well as coffee multiple times. At this point it’s half just so I can make sure he’s still awake and breathing.

His dinner looks untouched and he’s got ink on his cheek. I don’t even think he noticed me come in until I was right behind his chair with my hands on his shoulders. He only startles a bit and I lean forward to peek at his progress. “You’ve gotten far today” I note, “Though dinner was over two hours ago you know.”

He sighs sitting back against me. “I know Tesoro, I know. This one is just.....very difficult. And she wants it earlier than the rest.” He drops the pen and stretches his fingers. “If I can get this one to her before Friday I think we can have a few days off finally.”

It would be a relief for us both to have a few days off. He squirms as I press at the knots in his shoulder.

"I will literally stand guard outside this office to fend people off if it will help. I was starting to think I might have to tie you up somewhere to keep you from coming into the office this weekend.” He breathes in sharply once and there's a moment of stillness before he’s laughing quietly. Interesting.

I’m solidly around the front side of his desk before I notice the flush on his face. Double interesting.

The last paper in front of him has been moved aside in favor of the dinner plate. He’s frowning at it. The dish isn’t one that would be particularly appetizing cold. “I think......perhaps a trip to the kitchen might serve us better?” I offer. “You can find something better than that and I can find something for desert. I think Papa mentioned there was pie tonight.”

Pie makes a good dinner.” He says with a quirk of the eyebrow. Problem solved.

———

“Hey!” I gasp as his teeth scrape down my neck. “Hey, I told you, none of that tonight. I have a ton of important meetings tomorrow. You know, the kind with people from Outside This Church whom I need to view me as respectable, buddy.” He isn't looking at me but growls a little against my skin.

I tangle my hands in his hair and tug sharply back to meet his wild eyes with mine. “No biting.” “You’re gonna have to save those hickeys for tomorrow, Cardinal...”

He’s adorably huffy about it but also doesn’t falter as he ruts against me. His hips grind sharply into my thighs, pressing me hard down into the cushions of his couch. His arms have me caged in below him and he rests his forehead against mine with a low moan.

At some point we’ll have to decide if we’re moving to a bed, or at least stopping long enough to take off literally any clothing instead of writhing on the furniture like teenagers. It’s so good this way though.

I came by to drop off the last few papers for him to finish and somehow convinced him they could be done in the morning. I meant to also convince him to come have another late dinner in the kitchens but he's in a mood and I can't complain. Having him over me, desperate and needy is better than any drug. I busy myself with the buttons on his jacket and shirt, impatient to get my hands into his chest hair. He hums as I run my fingers through it, and lower. His mouth is at my ear, his nose in my hair. I tug at his belt as he arches over me.

“We should go go to bed” he whispers “we should go to bed so I can fuck you into the weekend. I want to wrap you around me and make you cum until you can’t remember your name”. The words coming out of his mouth are getting deep and breathy. That voice.

Even his perfectly normal, reasonable Latin lectures make me want to get on my knees for him. I'm pretty certain the whole class feels that way. Technically, I know I’m not the only one he sleeps with either but recently I seem to have lucked out.

“You can’t” I growl back as he presses me down. “As much as I’d love to have you buried in me from now until Sunday, you still have 'homework' for tomorrow and I.... I can’t bag out of my important meetings. Sister will literally have me murdered if I leave her alone with those delegates.”

He moans low and deep grabbing at my thigh to pull me further under him, tighter against him. We press back and forth rocking against each other and making out. He’s driving against me over and over in a way that will have me undone very shortly. I have to bury my face in his shoulder to keep my whimpers quiet. Office hours are over but the door isn’t locked and Ghouls have a way of showing up when shit is about to get good.

I'm starting to lose it. “Please, Copia, please, pleaseplease” I beg. He grinds into me slower and slower pressing closer and longer and I think I could die from needing to cum. His breath is in my ear choppy and hot. Little wines, murmurs spilling from his mouth as he gets closer to the edge.

My body arcs up against him, my hands trapped against his chest as an orgasm washes over me. Head thrown back into the cushion I cry out when he sucks at the skin at my collar. I’m gasping as I come down. And then I realize.

Yanking my hands from between us to grab at his head. “COPIA, Satanus! What the fuck did I just say!” He’s a bit of a mess this close to an orgasm and only whines at me when I scold him. His rhythm is getting lost now and though I'm mildly pissed about the bite, I don’t think there’s a better time to test my new interesting theory than now.

I wind the fingers of my left hand tight into his hair and grab harshly at his hips with my right. “Bite me again and see what happens Cardinal. Don’t make me tie you down next time.”

He comes hard. Face buried in my collarbone despite my hard grip on his hair. He’s arched so hard into me I think I’ll be feeling it well into next week. We collapse slowly into the couch. It’s hot and sweaty not to mention the utter mess he's just made. Whatever. He must own 20 pairs of those black pants anyways.

I stroke his hair and laugh softly into it as he tries to regain some steadiness of breath. “Well then, Cardinal.” I arch my eyebrow at him and he's absolutely blushing. He won't quite make eye contact and I can't keep this crooked smirk off my face. He buries his face back against me and grumbles “Maybe time for a real dinner, Tesoro?” as the office door opens. A silver face peeks through, checking the desk and then turning to see us tangled on the couch. “Oh! Sorry, boss. Just, uh, making sure the, uh, lights were off in here. Yeah.” “But um, never mind if you’re still in here working!” The voice fades as the face retreats quickly.

Copia makes a tired sound. “Ghouls.”

———

The free weekend has been axed.

Delegates from the Unitarian Church apparently liked our pitch enough that they decided to hang around for a few days and view the abbey in it’s working state. On the one hand it’s great. Not completely bonkers church allies would be incredibly helpful to us. But I'm mentally tapped out from the socializing. Copia too, has been dragged into the fray. Unlike our Third Papa he can be counted on to treat our guest well without shamelessly flirting with each and every one of them. Unitarian Universalists might not immediately kick a bunch of Satanists out of church club but they still probably view married couples as a little less fair game than Terzo does.

They leave just in time for us to jump right in on the next round of translations. Some books from our archives can only be opened for a few nights a year or a decade. Some can only be opened for a few hours at a time, or only in the perfect humidity, or only by a woman, or a ghoul, or Papa. It’s a particular kind of puzzle game to schedule the translations of these texts. Plus very few people can translate them at all let alone as quickly as the Cardinal.

Imperator schedules, I ferry book and papers. He translates. I return books and papers and organize translations by type and date so we can digitize them later. It’s part of the push to get this church into a modern century. Making an effort to have other church allies is as well. Nihil is totally against it even though his sons are all for it. Or maybe that’s because his sons are all for it.

Everyone is tired. Everyone is busy. The congregation is much bigger than it used to be but still there isn't a lot of down time. We've got a horde of siblings at our disposal to help with all the cleaning, data entry, filing, etc. but someone still needs to steer the ship.

It turns out that managing people is a pain in the ass and regretfully I'm good at it.

Thankfully I still end up spending most of my day filing and organizing piles. It's boring but methodical and leaves me with enough brain space to let my mind rest or wander as it chooses.

I'm deep into sorting notes from the early 30's so we can see if anything matches up with books from that era but my mind has wandered back to the Cardinal's ass in his red pants.

He stepped away from the monstrous paper pile for coffee this morning but two moments later was back leaning across the front of his desk to scribble a note in the margins of whatever he's trying to decipher. It's a very nice ass.

It's been over a week since we've been able to do anything more than snag a kiss between meals, sleep, and work. It's fine, except that it really, really isn't. Stress relief is important. And doing it myself is currently feeling a little subpar when the alternative is so incredibly attractive.

Also. There's this whole other aspect of him that I really want to get another glimpse of. We have been mostly on equal footing or he's been in charge since we've been seeing each other, but I know that's not all there is. Not just because of the way he blushes when I boss him around but also because of that dinner months ago where a wine drunk Terzo whispered in my ear all sorts of things about how delightful and versatile a bed partner Copia is.

I think I want to know all the ways to make him whimper and beg.

Unbeknownst to him, Thursday night we're going to catch a break. Imperator is headed out of town with a few of the Emeritus family for some swearing in of a little sect or two a few cities over. Copia and I have been excused to finish up one really time sensitive book and they're going to be gone for two whole days.

Of course, I know that the book is finished already. He did the last bit around 2am and I just couldn't bring myself tell her in case she decided to dump another stack on us as she walked out the door. Two days isn't enough for a real vacation but it's definitely enough for a little rest and stress relief.

______

I feel like I'm laying a trap. Getting us out of work, convincing him to come back to his rooms to change for dinner.

There's a tiny unmarked bottle of lube tucked on the hallway table next to the Baphomet statue where he hangs his keys. Normally he never looks at that table, just drops his keys across it, puts his hat on Baphomet's head, and comes to collapse on the couch or bed.

There he is though, looking at the bottle curiously, fingers starting to unbutton the top of his jacket unconsciously as his brow creases. I have to move fast. I walk up and my hands take over for his. Unbuttoning the jacket and pushing it back over his shoulders but not taking it off of him. I push at his chest gently until he steps back all the way against the heavy wood door.

"Tesoro, I... " He looks down at my face as I'm unbuttoning his shirt. My hands work downwards and I see as he completely forgets about the bottle. "Hello there" he says with a smile and slides his hands into my hair to turn my face up towards him. I get an arched eyebrow, a little half smile, and then, a little hitched breath as I tug open his belt.

I lean in to rub my nose under his jaw and breathe him in. His arms come up to pull me close and I can feel the rumble in his chest. We stand for a moment in peace, enjoying the closeness before I tug his hands down to lay flat against the door. "Keep them there, alright?" I whisper in his ear.

He breathes out an unsteady yes while I lay kisses down his neck. His trousers are undone and he hums through his teeth as I take him out and stroke him. Lightly over and over. Teasing gently. His head is back with eyes closed which is perfect.

When I ease my lube slick hand down his dick his whole body jolts and his eyes fly open to stare at me. "Oh! Ohhh...." Hands tight against the door his hips push forward into my hand and he screws his eyes closed again as I stroke him a second time.

"F...uck. Oh. Fuck. Tesoro..." he whimpers and the sound strikes deeply hot at the center of me.

I keep my touch firm but slow. A steady torcherous pace. I wonder how long I can keep him here. Trapped between my body and the door, gasping and moaning as I tease him higher and higher.

I want to talk to him but I'm a little afraid this will end too soon if I do so I settle for brushing my lips across his, across his face, against his sideburns until he's begging. "Tesoro, pleeease. PPlease. Ah. Ah. Oh, lord, Tesoro. I need....ah, please."

His face is plastered to my neck and I dig my free hand into his hair to hold him there. He hasn't moved his hands an inch though I see them tremble and grasp.

"You're doing so well, yeah?" I whisper. "You sounds so good like this. I love it. I love hearing how badly you need this." I can feel his knees knock a little as I speak to him. "I've been thinking about this for weeks. Making you come undone for me like this. Did you think I hadn't noticed how pink you get when I tell you what to do?"

"Ah, Satanus. Por favor...." he wines. "por favor....." His hips are trying to press forward, but I've got him tight against the door. I up the pace of my strokes until he can hardly speak. Low gasps and whimpers escape him as I bring him higher.

"Are you close love? I need you to tell me when you're close. I want you to tell me when you’re going to cum." That pulls a little wail from him and he gasps, crushing his face deeper into my neck. "Oh, Santanus. Oh, Lucifer. "

"You gonna beg me, sweetheart?" I husk in his ear. "Come on. Say please?"

He doesn't manage it, curling tight over my body as he comes. His arms forget the door to crush me against him. Fingers grip my back and shoulder so hard it almost hurts and I can hear his breath stop completely for a moment. I let him hold me, pressing myself tight up against him, toes to head.

It hardly feels like he is going to stand on his own so I just clean him up with a conveniently located cloth and pepper his face with little kisses. I brush the damp hairs back from his brow and when he lifts his eyes to mine he still flushes a even brighter red.

I must look entirely too pleased with myself because he quickly closes them again and lets his head fall back against the door with a solid "thunk."

"Fuck", he breathes, "I...ah, just.....Fuck."

I am pleased with myself. Humming softly I tuck him back into his trousers and pull the edges of his collar down so I can kiss him long and hard before patting his chest and moving away back into his rooms. He doesn't follow me and I look back to see him still leaning against the door staring.

"Dinner?" I ask with a bright innocent smile.

He growls with narrowed eyes and launches himself into the room. Shrieking with laughter I race to the other side of his couch. "Come here..." he murmurs. And when I don't move he crooks a finger at me. "Topolino. Come on. Come. Here. "

It's so goddamn hot. I want to.

But.

"Make me." It's impossible to keep a grin off my face knowing that the whole wing of this abbey is definitely going to hear about when he catches me. I have the advantage of steady feet, but his eyes are dark and his smile dangerous.

I am super, super fucked.

[cilldaracailin]

A Kind Of Magic

Here is the next part. Thanks for all the Tumblr love :)

10

“There is nothing like a shared interest to draw people together.”

They cleared away all the breakfast dishes and tidied the kitchen, Taron washing and Robyn drying as before. They also took the time to dress each other’s stitches.

“Did Doctor Keane give you any tablets like I got some?” Asked Taron as he tapped the dressing to Robyn’s shoulder.

“Yeah she did. My prescription finished on Thursday morning. I just have to go and get these stitches out next week.”

“Your shoulder still looks bruised though. Isn’t it still sore?”

“If I lay on it with direct pressure yes but I can move about and lift and stretch.” She felt Taron run his finger down the tape to keep it secure and stuck on the dressing. “Thanks Taron.”

“Anytime.” He said as he pulled the strap of her top back up.

She got to her feet and kicked her shoes off. “Garden.” She said simply and skipped out into the deck and onto the grass before turning back. “Suncream.” She said as she walked past Taron who had been following her but stopped as she walked back into the apartment and into her closet in the bedroom before she walked out again. “Case.” She said but turned and walked back into the bedroom. “Purse.”

Taron couldn’t help the fully belly laugh that he made as he watched Robyn walk around her apartment from one room to another just randomly saying words and it felt so good, but at the same time quite sore and unpleasant as his side hurt to laugh like that.

“Key.” She returned holding a tiny key in her hand and walked to the laundry room. She opened the door, disappeared for a second before coming back lifting a very heavy looking case.

“Whoa, that’s heavy Robyn!” He went to give her some help but with ease, Robyn lifted the case up higher and onto the island. “You are a little freakishly strong.” He said as he watched her put the small key in the lock and open it.

“Lifting three and four years old builds some serious muscle. I don’t know if this is something you want to see inside of. It will completely change your opinion of me.”

“Why?” Asked Taron intrigued.

“Well this is my case from Florida that I had great intentions of coming home to pack properly after I went to the 7/11 to get my turtles, which I never actually got by the way. Anyway, after I left you in the hospital…” Robyn gave him a sad smile. “I had about an hour to pack up the rest of my things before I needed to leave for the airport so I literally just threw everything in.”

Taron moved a bit closer to her. Although he was hurt when he found out she had left him so suddenly, he hadn’t really thought about how Robyn had felt as she packed up to leave so quickly to return home. As much as he was upset with her departure it must have been just as horrible if not worse for Robyn.

“I just want the suncream but yeah. It’s in here somewhere, in this mess.” Robyn heaved her case open. “Left or right?”

“You haven’t unpacked this yet?” Asked Taron as she unzipped the left side.

“Erm no. Haven’t really had the motivation to do it.” She walked away and back into the laundry room and carried out a white wicker laundry basket. “Might as well sort the washing out too. You really don’t have to watch this Taron. Not going to be very interesting at all. Ya know girly delicates and dirty clothes.”

Taron pulled a stool over and sat on it, feeling the need to sit rather than stand, his body feeling tender and rough. “We have already crossed barriers that others haven’t. I think we might be past the dirty laundry stage.”

“Okie dokie.” Replied Robyn as she started pulling clothes out and throwing the majority of them into the laundry basket. Pants, t-shirts, bras, shorts and bikinis as well as many pairs of socks were put in along with some jeans. Robyn stopped when her hands pulled out the blue polo shirt she has been wearing the in the 7/11. It was still frayed at the bottom from where she had cut it to use the material as a bandage for Taron’s arm, the back-left shoulder covered in her blood and it was littered with spots of Taron’s blood too. She turned to look at him before moving over to the bin beside her kitchen door. “Well I don’t need that any more.” She then pulled out the jeans she was wearing and threw them into the bin too. “Or those.” The white pair of converse she was wearing were next but she dropped them in the laundry basket for a wash. She wasn’t quite willing to part with an expensive pair of shoes that cost her more than half a day’s wages.

“I am pretty sure my ripped white t-shirt is in a bin too. Couldn’t really salvage it when someone decided to rip it in half.” Taron tried to lift the spiralling mood and was glad to see that Robyn had thrown the clothing out that she was wearing in the 7/11 because he had done the exact same thing once he was given back his belongings that he came in with in the hospital. It was a reminder he didn’t want and it seemed Robyn was thinking the same.

“I was updating your boring white t-shirt look. It needed some rips.” She welcomed how Taron quickly made a little joke about the clothes they had been wearing when everything went to shit in the 7/11 and she returned to her case, making quick work of pulling out more dirty clothes and finally at the bottom of the left side of the case she found the bag of suncream she was looking for. “Ah-ha!” She said proudly as she pulled the canvas bag out. She left the suncream on the island and closed her case over, zipping it fully. She lifted it off the island and kicking her laundry basket across the floor she put both in the laundry room to the side, closing the door behind her.

“Robyn!”

“What?” She asked as she came back to stand beside Taron, opening the bag of suncream.

“You are seriously going to leave that in there like that?”

“Yeah, I will fix it later. I really am not in the mood for clearing out the rest of it and sorting the washing? Ugh not happening right now.” She enjoyed the disapproving look he gave her. “I told you your opinion of me was going to change. I only wanted the suncream for us.” She turned the bag upside down, emptying it all out onto the island. “Ok factor fifty for you and I shall take this ten.”

“Ten? Absolutely not. I saw your sunburn in the 7/11, I even rubbed the aftersun in. Factor fifty for you too.” Taron took the ten away leaving the bottle of fifty.

Robyn grinned. “That was because I didn’t use any suncream. I will be ok with ten and you can take the fifty. I already have a very good base. I am normally not this colour. I just tan easily and took full advantage of my weekends on the beach.”

Taron got off the stool. “Let’s compromise with a twenty-five then.”

“Twenty-five for you and fifteen for me? Ten for me? Or I could go straight for this factor four tanning oil.” Robyn picked up the brown bottle.

Taron grabbed the bottle from her. “No tanning oil. Seriously? Tanning oil?”

“I love a good beach holiday and I like a tan. Tanning oil helps, near the end of the holiday. Not at the start.”

Taron pulled two bottles towards him. “Twenty-five for me and fifteen for you.”

With the suncream factors agreed on and rubbed in, Taron making sure he got Robyn’s shoulders, both Robyn and Taron took to the garden and a sun lounger each, Taron on his back, a soft pillow under his head, Robyn sitting up reading a book. His right side was still giving him hell after laying on it all night and lying on his back was the most comfortable position for him. Robyn had asked him to tie the strings of her top behind her back after he had finished rubbing her suncream in. ‘Tan lines’ she had simply said and he obliged tucking them in the back of her top. As the time passed on, his had opened the remainder of the buttons on his shirt and the heat of the sun felt just perfect on his shattered body.

Robyn had given him free reign over the music and he would ask Alexa to change the song or artist but he had settled on Elton John who was playing through the speakers which Robyn had connected to her Alexa so the music could be heard inside and out. It was exactly what he was sure Doctor Hart would have been expecting of him. Relaxing, listening to music and it was pure heaven. He sang along every now and again, having to stop when he gave it too much gusto, his whole body protesting but he definitely enjoyed it when he heard Robyn joining in at times too.

She had thrown back the doors to her bedroom too, turning off the air con and letting the late summer fresh air filter the whole way through her apartment. She took a glance every now again to Taron as he lay with one leg bent, his arms down by his side, his whole pose looking stress-free, his eyes closed, his breathing easy. His open shirt fluttered in the breeze and the bruising on his ribs and side still looked very sore, even a week after he had been hurt. Seeing how much slower Taron moved that morning, his hands moving to his side as he turned too quickly or bent the wrong way, Robyn knew he was trying to hide how much discomfort he was still in despite the strength of his pain killers. In saying that, the picture of Taron lounging easily in the sun was another image she was adding to her album of him in her mind. It was her perfect idea of a very lazy Saturday.

For three hours they lay in silence, the music enough for both, Taron dozing in and out of sleep. He wanted to pocket this feeling of surreal tranquillity and pull it out whenever he felt stressed or his anxiety start to rise. Every now and again he would look to Robyn and she looked just as peaceful as he felt. He watched her mouth the words along to whatever song was on as she flipped through the pages of her book. He couldn’t explain how much he enjoyed her company and he took delight in the fact that there was no pressure for them to talk or make conversation and it was a wonderful easy atmosphere surrounding them. He felt like she knew what he needed before he even needed it and he needed this rest. The angst and worry that had plagued him were slowly leaving his body as the sunlight and warmth crept in. As much as he loved his family, he knew he would never get respite like this at home. His mam would be almost fussing over him, being overly concerned which he loved about his mam but it was the not the attention he needed right now. He knew Robyn was keeping a very close watchful eye over him too, just doing it in her own stealthy way, letting him just rest in the silence, but ready to move to him if she needed.

Their quiet was interrupted by a ringing phone, Taron turning his head as he recognised his ring tone. He went to move, a grimace filling face, a groan leaving his lips and he had stop getting up as his head felt light and his delicate chest twinged.

“I got it.” Said Robyn as she jumped to her feet. “You stay.” She saw how Taron’s whole body froze as he experienced a serious wave of pain as he moved off the low lounger. It just added to number of times she had watched him cringe so far that day and she wasn’t liking it.

She walked into the bedroom from the garden and picked up his phone from the bedside locker where he had left it and brought it back out to him. Taron had sat up very gingerly and moved so his legs were either side of the seat and she handed him the phone, watching as his eyes lit up as he read the name on the screen. Robyn hadn’t looked but knew it must have been somebody special for the call to get such a reaction.

“Elton, hey!”  Robyn’s head turned twice as Taron answered the phone. “My mam yeah? Ahh man thanks Elton. No, I am ok. I’m good. I’m really good. I’m at a friend’s house. Yes, her name is Robyn and what else has my mam told you?” Taron looked to Robyn as he spoke on the phone and patted the sun lounger beside him for her to sit down and she did so copying the way he was sitting. She listened to the one ended conversation as Taron spoke to who she could only presume was Elton John. She had never seen Taron’s face light up so much and his eyes shone as he laughed and joked and spoke to his good friend, but she did notice how a frown tinged his features every now and again, his hand going to his side or his head. “I haven’t been doing much singing, no. I have to wait until my ribs heal up but Robyn and I are going to have an Elton/Freddie sing off.” Taron’s smile spread wide. “I haven’t heard her sing a lot but I know she can sing. I will represent, don’t you worry though with the looks I am getting now, I have a feeling I should be a little worried.” Robyn smirked and nodded. The conversation lasted two or three more minutes, Taron assuring his friend that he was ok and thanking him very much for the phone call. Taron said his goodbyes, wished Elton’s family well and ended the call, casually placing the phone down on the lounger between himself and Robyn.

“So, Elton John regularly calls you on a Saturday morning?” Asked Robyn.

“Yeah.” Shrugged Taron with a breezy tone but as he looked to Robyn who was raising an eyebrow at him, he had to laugh. “My mam phoned him to tell him what had happened and let him know I was ok. He is holding a charity action in a few weeks time and just wanted to make sure that I would be able to attend it after what happened. We are supposed to be singing together but he told me I was only to do so if I could.”

“Elton John was just calling you.”

“Robyn.” Grinned Taron, watching her eyes light up.

“Let me freak out for a little bit ok? It’s Elton John!”

Taron chuckled but his laughter was disrupted his phone ringing again. “Let’s play guess the celebrity caller.” Robyn grinned as he picked up his phone.

“Ahh this is a celebrity we both know.”

Robyn looked at him puzzled until he answered the call. “Hey Richard!”

“Richard!” Echoed Robyn.

“Let me put you on speaker mate. Robyn is here too.”

“Hello my fake co-star girlfriend.” Laughed Richard.

“Hello my fake boyfriend.”

“It is good to hear your voice Robyn.”

“You too Richard.”

“Taron, I have literally been calling you for the last two days.”

“Aww sorry mate. I have been sleeping for the last two days. I have made one phone call and that was to my mam.”

“So, you made to Robyn’s then?” Asked Richard, so glad to hear his friend’s voice. He had been worried when he had been getting through to Taron’s voice mail for the last two days.

“Yeah I did.”

“And she let you in? Robyn, I thought you would know better than to let strange men into your house!”

Robyn laughed. “You would think I would but I guess not and I don’t know if I count you two as complete strangers. I mean we did spend a whole night together.”

Another round of laughter filled the air.

“Taron how are you mate?”

“Yeah I am good Richard. Getting there and you? How are you?”

“Make up has had to cover the bruises but I am good too, Straight back into it. It’s been a good distraction.”

“Richard, can I just say something before, we have a catch up?” Robyn’s tone of voice turned serious.

“Sure Robyn.”

“I am so sorry for leaving you in the hospital Richard and for the letter I wrote and leaving all the responsibility of dealing with the fall out of what happened in the 7/11 with you because it was something that should not have been left to you to deal you. You were affected as much as Taron and I by what had happened and we all needed to talk about it but I got scared and ran away, which is a normal Robyn reaction. I am trying to be better. Taron has helped a lot and is teaching me that its ok to let people in but I just cannot apologise enough for what I did. I am really really sorry.”

As she spoke Taron reached over and took her hand.

“I am only going to say it once, but you do not need to apologise to me.” Said Richard over the phone his voice sterner than Robyn’s. “I am firm believer in things happen for a reason and this, whatever happened between us, happened for a reason. I won’t lie, when I found the letter, it took a while for me to process it and I don’t think I was the best person to speak to Tina but I imagine that by now all that air has been cleared and Taron is going to be ok, me too and you as well Robyn. It was you who held us all together in the 7/11 and whatever happened after that, might have been done in haste and because you were scared and had your own responsibilities but it’s done. You two have probably had that conversation by now so let’s leave it there. We know we will always be bonded by what happened and know we can turn to each other when we need to and that is what is most important.”

“Jesus did you two take lecture lessons after we met? You are both seriously knocking it out of the park with these speeches.” Robyn might have answered Richard’s touching words with her usual defensive sarcasm but she could feel the burden of guilt and worry she had been carrying about leaving Richard leave as he spoke and she wished he was there so she could give him a very grateful squishy hug.

“So, we are all forgiven and know that we can talk to each other when we need to?” There were a firm yes from Taron and Robyn. “Great. So, what have you two been up too?”

A long light-hearted conversation followed as the three caught up with each other, telling stories of their last three days, Richard very jealous of the baking Taron had been tasting as well as their chilled-out time in the garden. Richard was up to his eye in script changes and re-shoots. It was relaxed and carefree chat, jokes and giggles being thrown about and when the phone call ended, the three had made a promise to meet up when their individual schedules allowed it.

“So, can I expect any more phone calls from your friends?” Asked Robyn. “Maybe Hugh might give us a call, sing us a song…” She grinned.

“I can call him if you want.” Said Taron as he went to look for his number in his phone but Robyn pulled his phone from his hands.

“I was messing, God no.”

“Seriously, though, I can do that.”

“I know you can but you won’t. I am going to put this phone back now.” Robyn got up from the lounger, walked back to the bedroom and put the phone on the locker beside the bed.

“You’re a Hugh fan?” Asked Taron as she walked back.

“Have been since is Oklahoma days. He’s an amazing performer.”

“Did he come to Ireland on his tour?”

Robyn pulled her lounger closer to Taron’s so they could lay comfortably back down in their own space but closer than they had been before. “Yeah, he did and I missed out on a ticket at first. The two nights sold out so fast but two days before the concert Claire sent me a link saying more tickets had been released and I bought one. Right in front of the small stage and it was the best one hundred euros I have ever spent.”

Taron enjoyed the smile on her face. “Right so I know you like Hugh Jackman and that you like to bake, that you don’t really sleep and you work with children. I don’t know much else. I think it’s time for twenty questions.”

“Only if I get to ask twenty in return.” Taron rose an eyebrow towards her. “Just because I like your work and enjoy your movies doesn’t mean I spend my days googling you. I honestly don’t know a lot about you. It’s only fair.”

“Ok then. First question. When is your birthday?” Asked Taron.

“Twenty-second May, eighty-eight.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? May twenty-second?”

“Nope.”

“The day Rocketman was released?”

“Yep. I even went to see Rocketman on my birthday, brought my mam with me.”

“It’s destiny Robyn. Definitely destiny.”

She laughed. “Ok well when is your birthday and I can see if I have any connection to it at all.”

“November tenth, eight-nine.”

“Yeah no. Nothing. I have nothing. Guess it’s not meant to be!”

Taron reached over to swot at Robyn but she dodged him, giggling. “Eight-eight?” He questioned. “You are older than me.”

“Older and wiser.” She replied laughing as he went to playfully slap her arm again. “Only by six months.”

“Six months.” He repeated.

“My turn.”

Questions were fired back and forth and while Taron learnt that Robyn hated scary movies, was an only child, could speak Irish and had two degrees, Robyn learnt that Taron would eat anything put in front of him, adored his little sisters, could speak conversational Welsh and had his own degree.

“Two degrees and two diplomas?” He asked.

“I have been studying since I was eighteen. Couldn’t figure out what I wanted to do after college the first time and because what I wanted to do is so bloody specialised I kind of fell into childcare. I literally finished my second degree last year and I am done.”

Taron admired her pure determination to get back up after been knocked down when she applied for the same masters twice and failed to get it both times.

“It wasn’t nice being told we love your experience but your grades don’t encourage us to take you on. I am not an exam person. The pressure of having your entire year graded on a three-hour exam does not suit everyone. My college grades never reflected what I could do. I have always wanted to work with dolphins since I was a little kid and that is heart breaking to hear, that your marks were not good enough. The dolphin therapy diploma for me was giving all those who said I couldn’t do it, or that it didn’t exist, the finger but like I said, the field is so specialised it is hard to get into it. I kind of went back to work with the kids with my tail between my legs after that but then the promotion happened and I felt like I was doing something right and I realised that I was good at what I do, which spurred me to go and get the childcare degree. Worked my arse off, got my one one and once again shoved in the faces of those who said I couldn’t.”

“I love that take no bullshit and determined attitude you have except when you were standing up to those maniacs with guns but I know it is hard to get back when you have been told you are not good enough, or you won’t make it. It’s not easy to keep going after hearing that.” Taron shared some his own experience of auditions that didn’t go the way he wanted.

They moved onto hobbies and interests both talking their experiences of being in choirs since they were kids, both having sang in church and school choirs.

“Ok favourite skill you have learnt from your work.” Asked Robyn.

“Even though I didn’t get to do it on set, learning to shoot three arrows for Robin Hood was a pretty amazing experience.”

“I was in an archery club in college, the first time I went to college.”

“I am telling you Robyn, destiny! But seriously, archery?”

“Yeah seriously. I can’t shoot three arrows but it was good fun. Good responsible fun.” She added. “I shoot with my left hand though.”

“Left hand?”

“Yeah I know. I am one of those people who can use both hands for doing things!” She laughed. “No, my mam is left-handed and I just find things easier with my left and shooting arrows was one of those things. We met twice a week and it was a good laugh. Went to a few competitions too. Now I was never competition material but it was a great group of friends and we had a good time together.”

Taron smiled. “Maybe we need a shoot off as well as a sing off.”

“I haven’t shot a bow in years. Actually, the last time I did was when I was on holidays a couple of years ago and I hit the centre of the target first time. Complete fluke but it made those people watching stop and stare for a minute. I think we will stick to a sing off.”

“I am going to ask you the same question. A skill you have learnt during your years of working with children apart from reverse phycology”

“One of the girls I worked with, who has now left, well she and I could change thirteen nappies in ten minutes.” It was not the answer Taron was expecting and it made him laugh so hard for a good minute before he managed to somewhat control himself. “I am also a master of paper plate animals.” Robyn added with a very serious face which she could only for long as Taron giggled more, her own face changing with laughter. “And am a very good referee and negotiator.”

“Referee?” Asked Taron, still chuckling.

“Hell yes. You have one red truck and two children want the red truck; you learn to mediate quickly. Three-year olds are fierce headstrong little things.”

The changed the topic to allergies, hospital visits and favourite place in the world.

“Aber for me, Aberystwyth in Wales is my favourite place in the whole world. I am not allergic to anything and my latest hospital visit has been my most exciting.”

“Here, my home is my favourite place and I wouldn’t call it an allergy as such but mosquitos love me but I don’t love them and I have no appendix or tonsils.”

“Mosquitos?”

“Ugh I get eaten alive and some of the bites swell. I am sure I have a picture of one on my arm that looked like a swan. I have lots of littles scars on my hands and arms from them too.”

“Lovely.”

“Not so much but yeah.”

“And I think I understand your liquid panadol comment now. You have been in hospital twice?”

“My appendix was horrible. I sat college exams with a rumbling appendix not knowing what it was, sat in A&E for a long time before I was admitted and then in surgery, they realised my appendix had burst.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah key hold surgery turned into proper surgery and an eight day stay in hospital. It wasn’t nice, let me tell you. It was pretty frightening. I reacted to whatever medicine they were giving me and I started to cough up blood.”

“Jesus Robyn.”

“Yeah, like I said it was frightening, I was ok though, just had to take it easy at home after and I have four scars instead of one. My tonsils were nowhere near as complicated. When I started working in the creche, I was ill every six weeks or so with my tonsils so after six months my doctor referred me to a specialist and three weeks later no more tonsils. I have health insurance, so it happened quickly and touch wood…” Robyn tapped her head. “I have been sore throat free since. I have a fabulous immune system though. Working with children, you become immune to almost everything.”

“I don’t think I want another hospital experience like the one I had or any like yours either but I could do with a stronger immune system at times, especially on set. It can take quite a toll on me after a few weeks and I just get run down and ill. Makes my days harder. I just want to sleep but have to be up at five am to get to set.”

“I can only imagine. Your work comes with such expectations and you to be ‘on’ all the time. At least I can hide in the office if I need too.”

“I might come and hide in your office, or actually, maybe I will just hide out here in your garden instead.”

“Even when it’s raining?”

“Even when it’s raining. I don’t mind the rain.”

“My garden is not as much fun when it rains.”

“Well then I can just lay on your couch.”

“I think it might be time for me to change my locks.” Laughed Robyn.

“Don’t you dare.”

Another easy quiet fell between the two, Robyn lay back on her lounger, while Taron did the same on his, the afternoon sun still glorious on his skin. He enjoyed getting to know Robyn and he secretly loved the fact that she honestly knew nothing about him. It was refreshing and he saw that she genuinely wanted to get to know him and willingly shared as much information with him as he shared with her. She was naturally funny and he loved how easily she made him laugh. It was another feeling he was going to bottle up and keep for when he needed a pick me up.

[soundofseventeen]

Cinderella (Joshua Hong)

Here is part 1 for the series! I hope you enjoy them! I of course had to start with my favorite fairy tale, because why not? 

Master List

*Fairy Tale*

“So, how is the fair maiden enjoying the evening?” Joshua asked, walking around the castle gardens, step in step with you. You never imagined this when you came tonight, simply just wanting a night to yourself to have fun. The whole evening almost didn’t happen when your Fairy Godmother showed up and performed a little magic, turning you into a princess of your own. Granted, you weren’t a princess, but you sure felt like you could be.

“She is. Is the kind gentleman enjoying the evening as well?” You asked, nudging his arm with your elbow. He let out a shining smile, one you almost didn’t believe was real. Whoever this guy was, he sure was pretty damn charming.

“He is, very much.” He replied, looking around the gardens. “I never imagined tonight would go like this. I thought it would be like every other ball I’ve been to.”

“So you’ve been to multiple?” You looked at him, and he nodded his head.

“Oh yes. They’re all the same though. Fairly boring. Unless some other of my friends are there, then something chaotic is bound to happen. Otherwise, just…” He looked over at you, watching him as he talked. “...They’re never like this.”

“Well, I’m glad I could change your view.” You smiled, looking around the gardens.

“You must have been to several yourself?” He asked, and you started to shake your head, realizing he gestured to your dress.

“Oh… Well, not really. My family doesn’t really do the… Royal… ball thing…” You laughed, thankful that Joshua laughed as well. “Technically I wasn’t even going to come.”

“So why did you?” You thought about your answer for a second, trying to figure out what a usual response would be.

“Well, I thought it would be a fun experience. A nice night off. Plus it’s always interesting to try and see the prince. He’s practically a myth.” You added on, causing Joshua to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh really?” He chuckled, causing you to roll your eyes.

“But alas, that shall have to wait for another day. I have yet to even see the prince here, and at this point it would take a miracle to run into him.” You commented, causing Joshua to blush.

“I think the odds are in your favor with this one.” This time you laughed, turning to look at him.

“And what exactly do you mean by… Is that the time?” You said, spotting the clock tower behind Joshua’s head. He gave you a confused look, looking back at the tower himself.

“Yes? Why, do you have somewhere to be?” He joked as you started to panic.

“Yes, actually. I’m so sorry, but I need to leave.” You started to run back towards the castle, stopping and running back to Joshua, who was frozen confused. “Thank you for tonight. I don’t think I could have had a better time if I actually met the prince. I loved everything.” You said, then turning and running away again. Joshua stood frozen in place, trying to figure out what just happened, before turning and running after you.

*Today*

“Miss Y/N, I can’t figure out this problem.” One of your students said, pointing to a math problem.

“Okay, let’s figure this out…” You said, looking over the work they already did. You offered suggestions, eventually leading to the correct answer. The student thanked you, walking back to their desk. You smiled, continuing to grade some homework. Soon the bell rang, causing small chaos in your room as students packed up their bags to go to their next class.

You leaned back and sighed in your chair, finally hitting your free period. You stretched your arms above your head, not noticing your coworker practically skipping into your room.

“Did you hear?” You opened your eyes, sighing at her.

“Hear what?”

“We have a new teacher.” She said, sitting on your desk.

“Oh? Another one for you to flirt with constantly?” You teased, poking her leg.

“Hey, he will eventually fall for my charms.” She said, pointing at you.

“I still don’t know why you want to go out with him so bad. Minghao has shown literally negative interest in you.” You shook your head, and she rolled her eyes.

“Whatever. New. Teacher. Fresh. Meat.” She said, emphasizing each word.

“You’re gross.” You said, smirking at her and looking back at your papers.

“I’m just saying… You’re single… He might be single… If I can get Hao to date me, we could double date…”

“You know, I have a lot of grading to do.” She rolled her eyes, and you rested your head on your hand. “And I imagine you do too?”

“But it’s all projects…” She whined, and you sighed.

“Hey, you picked to be a science teacher.” She stuck her tongue out and walked out of your classroom, finally leaving you in peace.

You continued to grade assignments, slowly starting to hum. You smiled to yourself, realizing you were humming that song from Cinderella, shaking your head at yourself. You looked up at the door, seeing no one in the hallway, and then at the clock, seeing that there was still about 20 minutes until the next bell rang. You started to outwardly sing as you graded, smiling to yourself.

You looked up as someone knocked at your door, eyes going wide at the guy standing in your doorway, smiling at you.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” You said, standing up as he walked in. “Uhm… Can I help you with something?”

“Not really, I was just looking for you. I wanted to come introduce myself.” He said, smiling at you. “I’m Joshua, I’m the new English teacher.”

*Fairy Tale*

“So you spent the entire evening with a girl, she suddenly fled a little before midnight, and you couldn’t catch her, only finding her shoe?” Seokmin asked, looking at his friend.

“Yep.” Joshua said simply, looking at the glass slipper in his hand, trying to figure out exactly who his mystery princess was.

“And you have no idea who she was or where she was from?” Jeonghan asked from the other side, looking between Seokmin and Joshua.

“Nope.” Joshua sighed, setting the slipper down and standing up. “I’ve never seen her before in my life. Trust me, I would remember her if I had.”

“Yeah, that seems about right.” Seokmin commented, shaking his head. The three sat in silence for a couple seconds, when Seokmin stood up suddenly. “I have an idea!”

“Please share?” Jeonghan said, staring at Seokmin with wide eyes. Joshua stared at him as well, curious as to where this was going.

“You have her shoe!” Seokmin said, as if that answered all of their questions.

“...Yes, that is true?” Joshua furrowed his eyebrows, still confused.

“You make an announcement that you have the shoe, then ask her to come and try it on! If it fits, it’s her!” Jeonghan and Joshua stared at Seokmin, not fully following his logic.

“Do you realize how many girls in this kingdom would fit in that shoe?” Jeonghan said, half laughing. “Besides, I thought she was a princess.”

“Part of me thinks she wasn’t. I don’t know, there was just something about her that wasn’t… I don’t think she’s a royal…” Joshua said, thinking over Seokmin’s idea.

“Well, that doesn’t solve the fact that multiple girls in the kingdom could have that shoe size.” Jeonghan countered.

“Josh, you remember what she looked like, right?” Joshua nodded his head. “Then it’ll be easy! Once he sees her, he’ll know!”

“Why don’t you just ask your father? Or the Grand Duke? Surely they would be able to help you.”

“Because if she’s not a princess, they won’t approve.” Joshua said, looking at the shoe. “I’m gonna do it.” Seokmin cheered and Jeonghan sighed.

“Okay, well I have to go anyway. Fortunately, I know where my princess is. Good luck buddy.” Jeonghan patted Joshua’s shoulder.

“I still can’t believe you’re making her do all the wedding planning.” Seokmin shook his head, teasing his friend, who gave him a look that showed it worked. “How can you just sit while she does all that work? It’s exhausting enough for two people.”

“Once again, she won’t let me help! She wants to plan the whole thing herself. I’ve thrown thousands of parties, why won’t she let me help with this one!” Jeonghan whined, causing the other two boys to laugh.

“Probably because you keep referring to your wedding as a party.” Joshua laughed, suddenly excited about his new plan.

*Today*

“You’re Joshua?” You said, staring at the slightly (very) attractive man standing in your doorway.

“Yes. Today’s my first day, actually.” He said, walking up to your desk.

“Well, welcome.” You smiled, walking around your desk to shake his hand. “I hope you can feel at home here.”

“Thank you, I hope so too.” He grinned, taking his hand away from yours.

“So you were looking for me, then?” You asked, and he nodded.

“Yes, the secretary at the front desk said you were one of the best teachers here. I thought you could maybe give me some tips. I’ve never actually taught before…” He admitted, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Of course! I’d be happy to help you. We can meet up for lunch if you’d like. I’ll try to get one of the other teachers to come too. He’s the art teacher here, and he’s been here forever.”

“That would be amazing, thank you.” He looked at the clock, sighing. “Well, I shall continue my rounds of introducing myself. I’ll see you in an hour then.” You waved as he walked out of your classroom, then stopped in the doorway.

“Yes?” You asked, already humored by him.

“It’s just… Have we met before?” He asked, and you looked at him.

“Uhm… I don’t believe so?” You laughed, and he looked at you a second more, then shrugged.

“My mistake. I’ll see you at lunch.” He smiled, officially leaving the room. You tilted your own head, now wondering if you did know him from somewhere. The ringing bell brought you back to reality as students entered your room.

*Fairy Tale*

“How was the ball girls?” You asked your step sisters, pretending to clean some dishes. You managed to make it home just before them, thankful that your dress had turned back to its original shape. Despite your breathing from running, you had no signs that you left the house. Well, aside from the glass slipper you still had.

“Awful.” One of your step sisters said, pouting as she fell into a chair.

“We barely even got to see the prince, let alone get him to fall in love with us.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You said, thinking instead about the kind gentleman you met rather than listening to them.

“We only saw him at the very beginning, and then at the end.”

“It was crazy, it was almost like he was chasing after someone at the end of the ball.”

“What?” You asked, that part striking something in your brain.

“Yeah, he was chasing some princess just before midnight. She must have turned him down or something. What a pity.” Your step sister continued to pout.

“He did?” You looked at them, both giving you confused looks. “I’m just… I’m curious. You know, since I missed the whole thing.” You gave a half explanation, which seemed to satisfy them.

“Yes. We didn’t even really see her though. Whoever she was, she managed to worm her way into his heart rather quickly.”

“Gorgeous dress though.” One sighed, daydreaming.

“Oh my gosh…” You said, connecting pieces.

“Apparently he found one of her shoes. Can’t be that rich of a princess if she can’t even afford shoes that fit.”

“Excuse me.” You said, standing up to leave the room. You heard your step sisters start to whisper about you, but you couldn’t be minded with that.

You just spent the night swooning the prince.

*Today*

“So, Joshua,” Minghao started, looking at your new coworker. “Where did you teach before this?”

“Oh, I actually didn’t. I graduated a while ago, but I hadn’t been able to find a job anywhere. I was actually shocked when they offered me this one.” He laughed, looking between you and Minghao.

“Interesting. We’ve been looking for an English teacher for a while. I wonder how you never found this before.” Joshua shrugged.

“Who knows. I got a call this morning asking if I could come in and they just… offered me the job.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll do wonderful.” You said, smiling at him. You two made eye contact a little too long, causing you to clear your throat and turn to Minghao. “So, Hao, how’s your dog?” To your surprise, Minghao sighed.

“She ran away this morning. I let her out to get some fresh air, and normally she stays in the yard, but when I went to bring her in before coming to work, she wasn’t there. I was late this morning because I was looking for her. I have no idea where she went.” Minghao said, causing you to pat him on the back.

“I’ll keep an eye out for her.” You said, earning a small smile from Minghao.

“What kind of dog is she?” Joshua asked, and Minghao sat up a little more. “You know, in case I see her, maybe I can help too.”

“She’s a dalmation. She had a blue collar, but her last tag broke off, so there’s just a blank one on there right now. Responds to Perdita.”

“Hopefully we can find her soon.” Joshua said, and Minghao nodded. He looked at his watch, standing up.

“Oh, I have to go. Our crazy coworker is about to go on lunch, and I don’t think I can handle her today.” Minghao said, giving you a slightly apologetic look. As he left, waving goodbye, Joshua turned to you.

“Crazy coworker?” You chuckled to yourself, waving him off.

“One of the science teachers has a huge crush on him. She’s convinced they’re meant to be.”

“Oh, okay.” Joshua said, slightly amused.

“Yeah, so if she asks, you’ve been in a relationship for years. Otherwise you’ll be her next target.” You teased, and Joshua officially let out a laugh.

“So what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Are you in a relationship for years?” He asked, and you immediately saw where this was going.

“No, not really. But I’m not really looking. I also have a thing about… coworker dating.” Joshua just let out a laugh, nodding his head.

“Good to know.” He looked at your for a second, then looked at his phone. “I, have a meeting with the principal. Thank you for lunch.” He smiled, getting up to leave the room.

*Fairy Tale*

“Sir!” One of the guards ran up to Joshua and Jeonghan, stopping them in their tracks.

“Is something the matter?” Joshua asked, confused by the urgency of his guard. The kingdom was at peace right now. The guard took a second to catch his breath, then stood up to face Joshua directly, a smile on his face.

“We found her.” Joshua was confused for a second, then the gears started running in his head.

“What?” Joshua said, feeling excitement growing.

“The girl with the slipper. She has come forward.” Joshua looked to Jeonghan, who just grinned at his friend.

“What are you staring at me for?” Jeonghan said, pushing Joshua’s shoulders. “Go!” He laughed, Joshua immediately running down the hall, the guard following behind him.

The carriage ride to her house couldn’t have been more than a half hour, but to Joshua it felt like a million years. He had never been this nervous, and he had been to war. His heart began to race as the carriage started to slow down, his hands shaking in his lap. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if this feeling was entirely one-sided? What if it was just the magic of that evening that created this feeling?

He still exited the carriage, smiling at the cottage in the woods. He knew you weren’t a princess. He was starting to think of a way to convince his father and the grand duke, but then stopping himself before his mind went too far. He couldn’t let himself plan too far ahead until it was certain you wanted to be with him too.

One of his guards knocked on the door, and Joshua couldn’t help but hear faint singing from an open window above him. Was that the voice of his love? His attention was brought back down as a door opened, revealing an older, strict looking woman. After a brief discussion, he was brought into the house, and led into a living room, where two girls were sitting.

Neither of which were you.

“Hello Prince Joshua.” One of them stood, approaching him.

“Hello.” He greeted, slightly deflated.

“I believe you have my slipper?” She grinned, and Joshua shook his head.

“You’re not her.” He said, looking at her. “I’m sorry, but you’re not the girl from that night.” The other girl stood up, walking towards him.

“Of course she’s not. It’s because I am.” Joshua looked to her and let out a sigh.

“No, you’re not either.”

“But I have this?” She said, pulling out an identical glass slipper. Joshua’s eyes widened, causing the girl to grin.

“Where did you get this?” He asked, looking at her.

“It’s mine.” She said simply. The gears were running inside Joshua’s head, looking around the cottage.

“Are there any other maidens in this house?” He asked their mother, who had a panicked look.

“No, nope. Just us.”

“What about staff? Surely with a house this size you must have someone on staff.”

“Nope. It’s just us three.” She smiled a slightly creepy smile, which caused a guard to adjust his stance between Joshua and the woman.

“I heard singing before. It sounded as though it was coming from upstairs.”

“One of my daughters must have left a music box open. They were so excited for you to be here, it must have distracted them.” Joshua looked at her for a second.

“Well, thank you. I’m sorry this wasn’t more successful.” He said, about to leave.

“Wait, your highness.” His guard stopped him. Joshua turned to him, and the guard simply put a finger to his lips. “Listen.” Joshua gave him a look, but stood silent. There was that voice again, singing a different song. Joshua felt his heart grow again, turning to the woman, who had a terrified look on her face as she looked up the stairs.

“If you wouldn’t mind investigating the voice.” He turned to the guard, who nodded and walked up the stairs. “We wouldn’t want the music box to be overworked, would we?” He asked the woman, who just stared back at him. “I’ll be outside.”

He stood outside the cottage, trying not to get his hopes up too high. Sure, the other slipper was here, but the voice could be coming from someone completely different. His heart began to pound again as he heard the door open, a little scared to turn around. He took a deep breath, forcing his feet to move as he turned to face you, a smile on his face as he saw you standing on the steps.

His princess.

“It’s you.” He breathed, and you made a small smile.

“Looks like you’ve found me.” You said, staying on your step. You were slightly embarrassed, standing in front of the prince of your kingdom in a torn dress with cinders on it. Joshua stared at you for several seconds, eventually coming back to reality and letting out a little laugh.

“I uh, I believe this belongs to you.” He said, holding out the slipper to you.

“Thank you.” You said as he walked towards you.

“It must be quite a story you have.” He looked at you, and you nodded.

“It’s… a long story.” You teased as Joshua gestured for you to sit down. Once you did, he picked up your foot, looking you in the eye.

“I look forward to hearing it.” He smiled, placing the shoe on your foot.

*Today*

You were packing up your bag, smiling at the end of another successful day of teaching. As you looked through your planner for the next day, there was a knock at your door, causing you to look up. Joshua stood in your doorway, a bag on his shoulder.

“I’m heading out. Is Minghao still here?”

“No, he left after last period to look for his dog.” You smiled, and he nodded.

“Okay. Well, I just wanted to say thank you again for today. I think I will get along well here.” He smiled.

“Anytime. Drive safely.” You waved as he left, sighing to yourself. You continued to read the plans for tomorrow, setting the planner down and picking up your bag. As you took a couple steps, adjusting one of the desks in your classroom, a warm breath of air flew past you. You looked to the windows, all of which were closed. You looked around confused for a second, then collapsed on the ground.

Slowly your eyes opened, looking around. You looked around the classroom, trying to figure out what was going on. You had vague memories filling your head, somehow from two different places. You stood up, looking around, trying to figure out how you got here. You could feel yourself starting to panic when you heard a voice from in the hall. You couldn’t quite figure out what they were saying until they were outside your door.

“Y/N.” You turned around, seeing Joshua standing in the doorway. You both stared at each other for a second, before you both broke and ran to each other, arms going around each other. “Thank god you’re okay.” He breathed, holding you close to him.

“Where are we? What happened?” You asked, looking around as your hugged Joshua.

“I don’t know. The last thing I remember, we were planning the wedding. Then I woke up in that parking lot. Are you hurt?” He asked, pulling back and looking you over a bit.

“Your highness, I’m fine.” You smiled, and he let out a sigh.

“Didn’t I say you can call me Joshua now?” He chuckled, holding your face in his hands.

“Is anyone else here?” You asked, looking around. He looked back at the door.

“Might as well find out.” He said, leaning forward to give you a soft kiss, then taking your hand and leading you out of the classroom.

[ahomeganeyatsu]

I just thought of a PJO AU where Lucas is a son of Poseidon and Eliott is a son of Apollo. So here’s some headcanons (I think). It got longer than I expected. 

Lucas hated that his powers responded to his emotions. He learned how to keep them in check because weird stuff just kept happening around him when his emotions were too high. It wasn't until he got into Camp Half-Blood and Poseidon claimed him that things started making sense. He learned to control it but sometimes things still happen, especially when one son of Apollo was around.

He didn't know how to describe Eliott other than that his parentage was fitting. The guy was the literal sun in Lucas opinion. He radiated warmth and energy and every time he smiled at him, Lucas worried he’d go blind from how bright it was.

It was just unfair that Lucas had to be careful not to have any form of water near him whenever he talked to Eliott. The boys still hadn’t stopped teasing him about the whole soda fiasco. Really, it was all Eliott’s fault with the whole “not necessarily a girl” comment and giving him that loaded look he dared not to interpret in fear of getting his hopes up.

Then the Arthur thought it brilliant to leave one of his magical spheres lying around in the Hecate Cabin and Eliott was suddenly a raccoon. None of the Hecate kids wanted to revert the spell arguing Eliott would turn back on his own in three days. All of Eliott’s siblings were suddenly busy and Lucas was the only one left to raccoon-sit him. He wouldn’t have minded to be honest. It was nice having company in the Poseidon Cabin. Except it was kind of hard not to let his feelings spill over when Eliott was being such an adorable dork and over all sweet and affectionate in this form. And well, waking up cuddled next to him, albeit a raccoon, wasn’t helping matters either.

He tried not to read in too much on Eliott wanting to spend time with him during those three days. Or the little snacks he manages to steal from the Hermes Cabin to give to Lucas.

He did tease him about the Hermes Cabin claiming him to be an unofficial mascot though. It really did say something about Eliott when they didn’t retaliate when he stole from them.

From there, things started to get a little weird.

Lucas found himself in situations that stuck him with Eliott with increasing frequency.

Dish duty. Training the younger kids. Capture the flag. Three-legged races in the Labyrinth. Rock climbing the lava wall. Even arts and crafts, which Lucas didn’t mind much to be honest. Then, there was the Hephaestus kids testing the new net trap on them, the handcuffs from the Aphrodite kids, the renga curse from the Apollo kids, and that hedgehog spell from the Hecate kids.

He had a suspicion what they were up to. It wasn’t until he heard the Hermes kids collecting bets that he realized the whole camp had been trying to set them up.

Lucas didn’t understand. It wasn’t like Eliott like liked him. Lucas was well, Lucas. The only thing impressive about himself was his being a son of Poseidon and his knack of bursting the pipes in the bathrooms when he got anxious. He wasn’t beautiful and kind and great and talented like Eliott. Why in the world would Eliott like him? It just didn’t compute in Lucas’ mind.

The only thing that made sense was that they were playing with his own feelings. That they thought it was fun to see Lucas floundering and keeping his powers in control. He didn’t like this one bit. He wasn’t going to serve as the camp’s entertainment. They had no right getting into his business, making bets about his damned feelings and dragging Eliott into this when he didn’t even have feelings for Lucas. Eliott was with that Roman kid. A daughter of Venus, Lucy-something-or-whatever? They were pretty close from what he remembered. So, yeah, the camp should just leave him alone.

As a son of Poseidon, Lucas had a reputation not to be messed with. Everyone knew not to get on his bad side. He was as unforgiving and unpredictable as the sea. Despite his small frame, Lucas was strong enough to take on the Ares Cabin, even the Athena kids found him difficult to deal with on the battlefield. When the latest scheme was in motion, this time from the Demeter Cabin, and Eliott got hurt, Lucas made it very clear that he wanted them to stop. That he wasn’t some puppet they can tug the threads and serve as a show for everyone to watch. He didn’t exist to amuse them, to have them meddle with his life. That Eliott didn’t deserve any of this mess. The lake’s water rising above him and just waiting to crash on all of them was an obvious enough sign for everyone to back off and quit it.

After Lucas had gotten Eliott to the infirmary. He spent the night somewhere in Long Island Sound, hanging out with the fishes and a herd of hippocampi that decided to visit, not wanting to face the camp in the dining pavilion that dinner. Or see Eliott, too ridden with guilt that he wouldn’t have been hurt if not for Lucas.

When he finally comes back after four days, the whole camp just about celebrated and lined up to apologize to him.

He was grumpy about it, but forgave them provided they don’t do it again.

He didn’t see Eliott and the next days, Lucas came to notice that the past few weeks, he had spent more time with Eliott than the last three summers he spent in camp. Now that the whole camp had ceased their meddling, Lucas barely saw the older teen at all. They pass by each other, say hi, but other than that, nothing.

The summer was ending and everyone was going back to their homes the next day. They have their usual bonfire with the Apollo kids leading the campfire songs and the others requesting. There was dancing and as usual the Hermes kids managed to smuggle in some real alcohol and spiked the drinks. It was a larger event with their Roman guests visiting. Lucas enjoyed his time with the boys and the girls. They were laughing at Basile and his latest failure at asking out Daphne, a daughter of Demeter.

Yann was regaling them with a story of his budding relationship with a daughter Hebe when the crowd shushed all of a sudden.

Lucas turned to look at what held everyone’s attention. He found his eyes being led to the center of the amphitheater where the bonfire was and so were most of the Apollo kids. Lucas blinked when he finally saw what had everyone quieting.

It was Eliott. If it had been anyone else, people wouldn't have gone silent. But this was Eliott and he was holding a guitar. Lucas had learned early on that Eliott was the only Apollo kid that didn't sing or play an instrument. He didn’t remember him ever joining his siblings during bonfires to sing and play for the other campers. So seeing him, standing with his siblings and holding a guitar was more than just a shock.

He addressed the crowd, saying hello and introducing himself, as if everyone didn’t already know who he was. Then, his stormy-grey eyes zeroed in on Lucas and the son of Poseidon’s cheeks burnt at that intense gaze on him. “I wrote this song for a certain someone,” Eliott said, hand rubbing nervously on his nape, and the crowd hoots with cheers for him. “I’m hoping it’s obvious enough he’ll notice this is for him.” There was a scattering of laughs in the audience and Lucas felt his friends’ gazes on him.

The son of Apollo cleared his throat and his fingers strum the strings of his guitar experimentally, testing it out. Lucas watched as Eliott seemed to psyche himself up. He took a breath and lifted his head once again. His eyes found Lucas and he didn’t break eye contact as he started to play earnestly.

Hearing Eliott sing, it was an experience. Lucas couldn’t put it into words. Everything seemed to fade away. There was just the song and Eliott. His voice carried power and it was filled with so much emotion and you couldn’t help but feel them too.

It took him the whole first verse, but Lucas knew the song was about him. As it progressed he caught multiple references to times they spent together, inside jokes between the two of them and that one whispered confession when he thought Eliott had been asleep.

At the end of the song, Lucas heart was beating so fast and hard he feared it would crack his ribcage and burst forth from this chest. His face was flushed and his cheeks wet from the tears he didn’t realize had escaped from his eyes. He had a tight grip on his control, not wanting to have any of the drinks bursting like geysers on his fellow campers. Eliott was still staring at him and he shot him a nervous but genuine smile. Lucas returned it shakily, mind still reeling from what Eliott had just done. The applause from the crowd went ignored between the two of them. Their eyes only broke away from each other when one of Eliott’s siblings had thrown an arm over his shoulder and ruffled his hair and soon the others had followed, showering the teen with praises. Lucas allowed himself to watch for just a few more beats before finally tearing his eyes away from them. He stood up and excused himself from his friends. He needed time to process what the hell had just happened. It was a testament to their friendship that they didn’t ask, just patted him on the back and told him not to stay out too late so the cleaning harpies won’t get him.

He sat at the lake shore, staring at the moon’s reflection on the waters. If the song was anything to go by, it meant that Eliott did hold feelings for him. He still can’t wrap his mind around it. Still can’t reconcile the two things together. Just how?

He didn’t know how long he had been there, but he heard the sound of footsteps and sensed the air being displaced. He didn’t need to look to know who had sat right next to him. Eliott bumped their arms and Lucas turned his head a bit to look at him.

“You left the party,” Eliott said. It’s a statement but Lucas could hear the why the older teen didn’t voice.

“I needed a bit of quiet,” Lucas told him. “Needed to think.”

Eliott bit his lip, swallowed and let out quiet sigh. His tongue darted to wet his chapped lips. Lucas blue eyes traced every movement. “About what?” he finally asked.

Lucas had always been impulsive when it came around Eliott. He had always been careful with what he says, turning the words round and round in his head before voicing them. With Eliott, Lucas sometimes loses his control. He was blunter. Eliott had grown used to it but when the words “I like you” pass through Lucas’ lips in that hushed voice, he looked surprised. “Quite a lot,” the shorter teen added. “So, if that song wasn’t what I think it was, you honestly have to work on that ambiguity of yours or else that’s going to get you in a lot of trouble. Also, I’m going to shove you into that lake. Tread very carefully, Demaury.”

Eliott let out a surprised laugh. Lucas can’t help the way the sound tugged a smile at the corner of his lips. “I’m being serious here!” Lucas shoved him without much strength but he was snickering now too.

“I know! I know!” Eliott giggled. His eyes were nearly invisible with how much he was smiling, his teeth visible and the corner of his eyes etched with crow’s feet. “It is, you know,” he slid closer to the younger boy and bumped his shoulder against Lucas’. “The song.”

The soft “Okay” was Lucas’ only reply.

Eliott’s face softened and he returned it. An equally soft, “Okay” that sounded more of a breath than anything.

They smile at each other and Lucas was the first to look away, choosing to stare at the lake surface instead. Eliott took after his lead and turned to it as well. They exchange no other words. They sat there, the distant sound of their fellow campers in the amphitheater and the various sounds of nature serving as their background. When Eliott reached for his hand, Lucas didn’t move away. He relished the feeling of Eliott’s warm palm and their twined fingers. The perfectness of how Eliott’s larger hand cradling his slighter hand didn’t go unnoticed. It felt like two puzzle pieces slotting into place. He squeezed Eliott’s hand and let his head fall onto taller teen’s shoulder. And in that moment, everything was right.

[amelia-blackshepherd]

Our Name

Apparently today is my 1 year anniversary with Tumblr. And to celebrate I wrote a story. Based on a prompt I received a few days ago. Set after Omelia gets married, Amelia changes her name on her lab coat.

On our honeymoon, which was really just us staying at our new house together having lots and lots of sex, anyway one night after Owen had fallen asleep, I had slipped out of bed and made a phone call. I had to be sneaky about it as I wanted it to be a surprise, we had discussed me taking his name well rather adding his name to mine. I was a successful doctor after all and the name Shepherd carries weight in the medical field, which can be both a pain in the ass and a blessing.

I hadn’t told Owen that I was officially adding his name, he thought I would remain Dr. Shepherd at the hospital, which was fine with him. But, I wanted to surprise him, so I made a call that night to Bailey to get me a new lab coat for my first day back.

After hanging up the phone, I grabbed a glass of water for rehydration in case Owen woke up again. I was just sliding back into my side of the bed when Owen’s gruff, sleepy voice sounded, “Where’d you go?” He cuddles up next to me, placing a few kisses on my shoulder as his arm slips around me and under my shirt.

I turn around, so I can be face to face with him, and wrap my arms around him, tugging gently at his red curls, “Water. Thought I should rehydrate.” I inform him with a happy smile tugging at my lips.

“Good thought.” Is all he says before his lips are back on mine and we are ready to continue our honeymooning.

Our first day back at work we drive in together, after another morning of mind-blowing honeymoon sex. I am so excited for Owen to see the surprise I have for him. When we get to the hospital, we ride the elevator together, he gets off on his floor and I continue up to the neuro floor. Or at least that is what I let him think, I actually get off on the next floor and then go back down to his floor, which is the same floor as the chief’s office.

I sneakily make my way to Bailey’s office, and knock once before letting myself in. I successfully make it there without Owen seeing me.

“Morning Shepherd.” Bailey says in a good mood as she takes a sip from her green health drink.

“Shepherd-Hunt.” I reply with a smile on my face. “And it is a good morning, this whole being married thing is great, makes everything seem better.”

She rolls her eyes at me, “Yeah, come talk to me after a few years when you don’t get any sleep because the baby keeps you awake.” She opens her desk drawer and pulls out my new lab coat, it is still wrapped in plastic when she tosses it to me.

I catch it with ease, of course, because of my quick neuro surgeon hands. “Thanks.” I say referring to the lab coat.

“No problem, Shepherd. And just so I know, you and hunt aren’t already at the baby stage, are you?”

Her question takes me by surprise, but to be fair Owen and I had started talking about marriage and kids and then two weeks later we were walking down the aisle. “No. No little Shepherd-Hunts.” I inform her and then just to tease her a little bit add, “Yet.”

I tried on my new coat and admired the name stamped on it, ‘Amelia Shepherd-Hunt M.D.’ I decide to head to trauma and show Owen my little surprise. I see him barking orders at the interns when I walk in, god I love a man in power, so I head over towards him sticking my chest out to draw attention to the name.

“Hey, Dr. Shepherd, looking fine as always.” Roy flirtatiously says in his usually way. Which only results in a small kind smile from me and Owen telling him to go lance an abscess in bed four.

Owen turns his attention to me, “Did you miss me already? It’s been what 30 minutes.” He teases as he pulls me closer to him.

“Well, that is a new record for us since we got married.” I play along moving closer to him, not caring how unprofessional this looks to anyone watching us.

Owens laughs and nods his head before lowering it so his hot breath dances across my ear. “Well we could fix that.” As tempting as that sounds, both our pagers go off, incoming trauma.

“Save that for later.” I tell him, patting his muscular chest as I head towards the ER doors to take care of our incoming trauma.

Roy runs over to walk with me towards the doors, he hands me a plastic cover and quietly says, “Thought you might want this, wouldn’t want your new lab coat to get covered in blood.” He throws me one of his arrogant smirks before he moves aside so Owen can take his place beside me.

Roy made a good call as our patient within minutes of getting her inside coughed blood all over me. Once it was clear she had no head trauma, I paged another surgeon to tag in and went to clean myself up.

Owen and I skipped lunch, instead we used the time to keep the honeymoon going. Afterwards, I started getting dressed, “What are you doing, Amelia? Stay.” Owen whines which only causes me to laugh at his pathetic attempt at persuading me to stay.

“I’m hungry Owen, let’s go get some food. You can show off your hot wife to everyone.” I say, moving closer to him as I put my lab coat on trying to subtly draw his attention to the name on it.

A smile spreads across Owen’s face, “Oh, I am hungry too, but not for food.” He says pulling me back on top of him.

“Owen, I am serious.”

“So am I. Now take off this lab coat and your clothes and then we can see about getting you some food.” He commands, pushing the lab coat off my shoulders so it falls on the floor. I am going to argue more, but then his lips are sucking on my neck and his hands a lighting a fire across my skin, and I lose all fight left inside me.

It had been a week since I got my new lab coat and so far, Owen was as clueless as an intern. “Hunt still hasn’t noticed the new name?” Alex asks entertained by the frustrated scowl that has been on my face for the duration of our conversation.

“No. And I am running out of ideas of how to get him to notice it.” I sigh. “I’ve tried talking to him, hinting at it, walking so the name is clearly showing, hell, I have even thrown it at him with the name facing him. And he still didn’t notice.” I rattle off some of the ways I had attempted to get Owen to notice it, so much for a romantic gesture.

“Wait, you threw it at him and he still didn’t notice?” Alex’s asks clearly confused how Owen could have missed that.

Meredith chuckles and gives Alex a light elbow and then fills him in, “She was probably taking off her clothes when she did it.”

“Oh. Yeah that might have been why he missed it.” Alex agrees.

“Well do either of you have any ideas?” I ask, slumping back in my chair.

Meredith shrugs her shoulders and steals a fry from Alex’s plate. But Alex offers an idea, “Have you tried wearing nothing expect the lab coat. Then he doesn’t have much else to think about.”

“Except what is underneath.” Meredith points out.

Alex’s nods as he pops a handful of fries into his mouth, “Yeah, well just don’t take it off till he notices.”

I think it over in my head, it might actually work, “Thanks Alex that isn’t a bad idea.”

Alex proudly puffs up his chest and then adds, “Or you could do it somewhere public. That way you know Hunt won’t take it off you right then. Like tomorrow at lunch in the cafeteria.”

Meredith gives him a light slap on his head. And I tell him, “And that is a bad idea.” On that note I get up and leave the table.

Owen is in surgery the rest of the day, which means I don’t have anymore chances to try and get him to notice the new name. I check in with him to see if he will be home for dinner tonight, he said he should be home by seven.

I head home after doing my final rounds, making sure to bring my lab coat home with me instead of leaving it in my locker. Once home, I decided I should cook something and taking Alex’s advise I decided to cook in nothing but my lab coat.

I decide on making us chicken alfredo, as pasta is my second-best dish behind waffles, and spaghetti would be way to messy to cook with my white lab coat. I don’t finish cooking the meal until Owen texts me to say he is on his way home, I didn’t want to make him eat cold food.

I hear the doorknob click as the door opens, revealing a very tired looking Owen. I am just stirring the sauce when he comes into the kitchen and stops short. I can’t help the chuckle that escapes my lips as I look at him, staring at me, eyes wide with his jacket half on half off as he had stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me, standing in the chicken cooking, with nothing back my lab coat on.

“Like what you see?” I quip, I already know he does. He still has not regained his speech skills, so he simply nods, his eyes don’t leave me as he runs them up and down my body.

After a minute he finds his voice, “The only thing that could make it better was if we got rid of this lab coat.” He has a wicked grin on his face as he moves towards me, grabbing the hem of the lab coat.

I feel his warm, strong hand on my leg, but I ignore it and take a step back, “Supper is just about ready.”

“It can wait.” He tries again moving closer to me, putting his hand on my lower back and holding me against him, to keep me from moving away this time.

“Later, Dr. Hunt.” I inform him, a little annoyed that yet again he didn’t notice my new name. I mean what else could I do, I literally took everything else away, he had to notice it this time. “I actually worked hard on this.” I say referring to the dinner, but a small part of me meant the display I put on for him, so he would notice the damn name change.

He smiles at me and loosens his grip, so I can move away. I go to the cupboard to grab plates for dinner, but I turn around when he says, “I know you did, Dr. Shepherd-Hunt.” He must have noticed the shocked look on my face as he explained with a hearty laugh, “What? You thought I hadn’t noticed the new lab coat with the new name. My name? Our name? I love it, Amelia.”

I hate him for playing this game with me, but the way he looks at me and the fact that he did notice makes my heart and other parts of my body ache for him. “How long have you known?” I ask.

“Oh, well let’s see.” He says coming closer to me again, “We came back from our honeymoon and you ‘secretly’ went to the chief’s office. And then came prancing into the ER with your new coat that just so happens to have my name on it.” He acts like it was no big deal, but I can see behind his goofy smile how glad he is I took his name.

I shake my head at him, how could he have pretended not to notice this whole time! “So, you knew this whole time? Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because, I wanted to wait till I got this, before I told you I knew.” He says pulling a plastic wrapped lab coat out of a bag he had hid when he came in.

“And what exactly is that?” I ask.

In response he opens it up and puts on his new lab coat, he presses down on the name, and when he removes his hand I see written in little blue letters, ‘Owen Shepherd-Hunt M.D.’

I can’t control the smile that spreads across my face, “Did you really?”

“You aren’t the only one who can do romantic gestures.” He teases.

“You are right Dr. Shepherd Hunt, but I am the only one who can do this.” I say as I jump up and wrap my legs around his waist and pull him into a hot passionate kiss.

When we separate he looks over at the food and says, “What about supper?”.

“Screw supper.” I say with defiance in my tone.

“I’d rather screw you.” He says as he sets me down and slams my back into the kitchen cupboard, instantly ours mouths are back together.

[mayor-crumblepot]

Honeythief by Halou + Valeyne

i’ve literally never heard of this song before, and it totally isn’t my style, but i definitely can go places with it for sure.

Bruce will never admit it, but he knows that he’s a control freak. Most people are more than happy to let him have his way— He watched his parents die, it only makes sense that he’ll act this way. 

There’s something to be said about the fact that people are only willing to indulge him after he lost his parents, after he sat in an alleyway with his mother’s blood on his hands; he tries not to think about it. Instead, he keeps everything he loves under lock and key, under intense security, lest he lose that too. 

It isn’t materialism, it’s self preservation. 

And, you know, it works. More or less. 

Bruce still has his parents’ room exactly how it was the night he lost them— his mothers’ second choice dress is laying over the seat of her vanity, his father’s box of cufflinks is sitting open on the dresser. It feels easier this way, easier to pretend, in the middle of the night, that they’re just out late at a gala, alive and well, laughing and very much in love. 

(Bruce knows this is unhealthy. He knows that he shouldn’t be pretending, he knows that he needs to face the truth and accept that nothing will ever be the same. Still, sometimes, he finds himself in their bed, all these years later.)

He knows that he’s too old for dramatics. Alfred will remind him of it, most days, albeit gently. 

The only thing that Bruce has left that he doesn’t protect is his own life. 

That choice, in and of itself, counts as the most extensive form of dramatics that Bruce can think of. Nobody can ever tell him what to do with his life, though, so he lives on the edge and accepts that this might be the only way he can accept what’s happened to him.

If he tempts fate, forever and ever, with the offering of his own life, it’s the only way he’ll be able to balance the scales. If the universe could take him away at any time, but it chooses not to, that’s the only way he can feel like he’s truly supposed to still be alive. 

This is hope he copes. 

And then, he meets Jerome. 

He meets Jerome, a boy who burns down the house to get to the basement, born from violence from all angles and a missing sense of empathy. A boy whose entire identity is built around how much damage he can cause, about how many lives he can ruin, how many nightmares he can make true. 

Jerome wants to thrust the entire world into darkness and Bruce wants to understand. It’s a wreck, and it’s doomed from the start. They both know it, they both know that if they keep circling they’re going to end up together in the same grave, bleeding all over the stones and one another— they’ll rot together, and they don’t mind. 

So it goes. 

Every time Bruce sees Jerome, it seems like there’s more blood on his hands. Ultimately, he doesn’t know what he’s expecting— Jerome is a criminal, a murderer and a vagrant, a curse with legs. The list goes on, and even though every title added is more cruel than the next, it all sounds like poetry to Bruce. 

“He’s fucking crazy,” Selina tells him, dirty shoes propped up on the vintage lounge, “he doesn’t deserve your time.”

“Sometimes, I think what happened to me made me crazy, too,” he can’t face her, instead presses his nose further into the books lining the walls. “I don’t know if he and I are very different.”

The sound that Selina makes is full of aggression, a snort so hard that Bruce thinks it might hurt her. “Just because you’re both fucked up doesn’t mean you’re the same,” she takes a handful of what’s in the candy dish and then makes for the window, “he handles pressure a whole lot differently than you do, B.” 

Upon reflection, Bruce realizes that she’s right. Jerome isn’t a mirror, he’s an inversion. He’s the same image cropped and reversed, doused in blood and godlessness— Bruce wonders how he’d look under similar conditions. What imagery would he cling to, who would he be casting the blame onto; who made him what he is? 

Faintly, he wonders if Jerome knows the answers, himself. Probably not. 

“You’re just going to kill me, without an audience?” Bruce asks Jerome, head held high but still not tall enough to hold his unfocused gaze. 

“I was thinkin’ we could get a little time alone,” Jerome chucks his knife somewhere, likely landing it in the stomach of one of his various goons, “and who said anything about killing you?” 

“I mean,” as the hired muscle leaves the room, Bruce wonders exactly how Jerome managed to gather all these people up, “the knife to my throat had a certain implication.” 

“There were plans, I’ll admit,” he settles into the tattered remains of the couch, as if he were in his own home, “but you’ve got this— you’ve got chutzpah.”

“You don’t pronounce the ‘c’ like that,” Bruce tells him, still standing against his desk, fingers running over the new cuts on the surface, “it’s all wrong.” 

“If you come sit down, I’ll let you tell me all about it.” And of course, Bruce does. 

Jerome is convinced to leave Bruce out of his plans, this time. He leaves Alfred unconscious in the kitchen, makes his men put back most of what they had intended to steal, and Bruce thanks him. 

“Next time,” Jerome says, waggling another knife in his hand as he leaves, “I might not be so charitable.” 

To his credit, Jerome holds true to his word. Barely a few months later, Bruce is hauled off by idiots in stupid clown masks, dumped in a warehouse, and left to wait. It wouldn’t be the first time that Bruce is taken against his will, or the last; the entire city knows how wealthy he is, and it’s his own fault for walking around the narrows without any kind of protection. 

“What a difference a few months makes,” Jerome says, face scarred but still mostly intact. “My, how you’ve grown.” 

“You haven’t,” it’s hard for Bruce to inject an edge into his voice when he’s tied up, but he tries his best. 

“Don’t give me an attitude,” he warns, looking over at the men who brought Bruce to him. “What happened here?” There’s blood dripping from Bruce’s nose, a wound on his otherwise clean skin, “Did the boys not behave?”  

“I also had a Rolex on when they picked me up,” Bruce isn’t all that sure if the question was serious, but he figures it’s worth the effort to be honest. 

“Oh, poor baby,” with a gesture of his hand, Jerome has someone marching over to his kidnappers, violently killing them. “You won’t be getting that back.” 

“Figures,” he tries not to seem afraid when Jerome comes close to untie him, tries not to focus on the fact that he smells like blood and crisp dollar bills. “What do you want?” 

“Rude. Can’t I just want to see you?” The air leaves Bruce’s lungs, like he’s been thrown off of the clocktower in the middle of town. That can’t be all this is.

“You don’t have to kidnap me to get a date,” he counters, stretching his arms out and popping the kinks from his joints, “you could just ask.” 

“I don’t know if you noticed, darling,” the term of endearment doesn’t sound quite right on Jerome’s tongue, but Bruce is willing to listen to it every day, “but I’m not exactly a public figure. More like public enemy.” 

“You could always ask for my phone number—”

“As if you’d give it to me—”

“Give me a pen.” They sit for a moment, frozen, as if waiting to call each others’ bluff but the time never comes. Jerome has a sharpie tucked behind his ear and he holds it out to Bruce with an unsteady hand. On the back of one of his business cards, Bruce scribbles his cell phone number, signing it with a handsome flourish of a signature. 

Maybe it’s because Bruce has never had a “proper” relationship, but he welcomes Jerome’s off-color courtship. Deep down, he disagrees with everything Jerome is doing, and he knows that if their lives were normal, he’d be fully in opposition. Right now, though, he knows that he has no room to judge. Instead, he only hopes that things can get better. 

It’s a lofty dream, but he’s willing to try. 

At night, on the phone, he listens to Jerome argue with himself over plans, listens to him talk through ideas and designs for weapons. It all sounds very childish, but he can just as easily hear the slight tinge of genius. Jerome plans his way around technological failures, builds things with his bare hands, plans a night’s mayhem only hours before it’s set to begin. 

And one night, it goes wrong. It goes wrong, and there’s fire, brimstone, police, and the threat of death, so Bruce does something monumentally stupid; “You can come here,” he says, holding his phone against his shoulder and drawing a robe around himself, “come here, right now. Please.” And Jerome does, mainly out of desperation. 

“I’m not afraid to die,” Jerome says, bleeding on Bruce’s floor, “but I don’t want to go out without a bang.” 

“Be quiet,” dragging Jerome through the empty house, Bruce repeatedly has to shush him, “Alfred will kill me if he sees you.” 

“How do you balance the risk?” Bruce asks, rinsing dirt and debris out of open wounds. “How do you decide what’s worth doing?” 

“You’re adorable,” through gritted teeth, Jerome tries to seem as though he isn’t in pain, “thinking that’s what I do.” 

“What, then?” His cheeks burn, bottom lip caught between his teeth, “You just do everything you think of?” 

“It’s all chaos, sweetheart,” Jerome is grinning, eerie and just a step away from the abyss, “and that’s what I’m about.”

“Chaos needs to wait,” snippily, Bruce gives Jerome a heavy eye roll, “for as long as you can stand it. You’re a mess.” 

“If I have you to keep me company, I think I can manage.” He plants a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it kiss on Bruce, on the corner of his mouth, and Jerome tastes like gunpowder and dirt. Bruce goes back for seconds. 

He knows that no matter how long he can keep Jerome holed up in a guest room, eventually, he’ll have to let him go. He’ll have to watch Jerome walk right back out into the city, into a teeming mass of snakes and scorpions, men who shoot first and ask questions later. The most he can hope is that Jerome is faster than the people who want him dead— Bruce knows he has no control, once Jerome leaves. 

And what’s the world without him? If Bruce is the moon, then Jerome is the sun; the vibrant mania that Bruce can only hope to reflect, to project through a filter. Without Jerome, what does he have to keep him interesting? What does he have to guide him further away from him past? 

“You think too much,” Jerome tells him, swallowed up by fancy pillows and bedsheets, “you’re making my head spin, and I don’t even know what you’re thinking about.” 

“You,” he says truthfully, running a hand through his hair. 

“Trying to rationalize being in love with a murderer?” He laughs, but surprisingly, it doesn’t quite sound like he thinks it’s funny. 

“Who said I was in love with you?” Bruce is smiling, and when Jerome laughs again, it’s sincere and knowing. 

[looselucy]

December

I sat with my mouth slightly dropped. Maybe I licked my lips once or twice, I don’t know, but it’s very likely. Harry and Zayn were both stood topless in the kitchen. I mean, I didn’t mean to ogle, but it was bloody hard not to. Even Ringo had made a surprise appearance, and she was exactly the same. Zayn was a little weedy, but I could see from the look in Ringo’s eyes that was exactly her type. Me personally, it was Harry who had my attention.

I still hated him. It was the 19th of December, which meant he had moved into our flat just over a month ago, and we still weren’t on good terms. I was thankful that neither of us had ever mentioned the night where I found my head on his shoulder, his cheek against mine, our breathing in sync as he helped me throw up. It had been a strange moment that we shared, and one I was glad we didn’t really acknowledge. There had been a few more nights out, a few more arguments, and our situation hadn’t improved. However, ignoring all of that, his body was absolutely lovely. I would never understand that tattoo, that bloody moth or whatever it was. I tried to blank it out and stare at the pure bliss of his abs. They were something else. I knew Harry went running a lot, he would get up early in the morning and run around campus, but I couldn’t explain or even begin to comprehend how he kept that figure up. Especially with the lifestyle we were all leading. I had been too fascinated trying to find out if I had just spotted a third nipple to notice that he had seen my staring. Which obviously, he loved. “You enjoying yourself, Pip-Squeak?” “Hm?” I mumbled, darting my eyes up to his. “You just… taking it all in, yeah?” He smirked. “Your tattoo is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen.” I tried to cover my tracks. “Is it a moth?” “It’s a butterfly.” “Does it have sentimental meaning or do you just like giant, horrible tattoos?” I shrugged. “I like anything that makes a girl stare at my body like that.” He raised his brows playfully. I scoffed, returning my gaze to the TV on the wall. I was so looking forward to the upcoming two weeks I’d be spending at home. With Christmas only a few days away, I had begun missing my family more than you can imagine. I hadn’t gone home once, which I wasn’t expecting, being such a home orientated person. But I guess with it being that way, I just got more excited that I would eventually be home with them. Of course I was sad Liam wouldn’t be there with us, but we had promised to skype him throughout the Christmas meal, and that was better than nothing. I was even excited about the train journey to get home. I needed it all. The thought of two blissful weeks without Harry Styles made me want to cry with happiness. My phone pinged and as did my stomach, knowing it would be Louis. Louis: I might be slightly gutted I won’t get to kiss you on NYE. Many kisses had been exchanged between myself and Louis, but still, nothing more than that. I always asked, I always hinted. I was getting desperate for a shag, but he was so hesitant. I wondered if he looked at it how I should be doing. Thinking of taking it slowly and maybe we could get somewhere, rather than rushing it. I tried not to be completely paranoid about the whole thing, but I was not doing a good job. Me: I might feel a similar way. Louis: I’ll kiss you when we’re back. All over. Me: All over? Louis: All over. I felt my stomach churning, and it really felt like my day. He was finally kind of, secretly saying, it’s going to happen. In the new year, it’s going to happen. Finally, I would be able to feel his lips somewhere other than my lips, and neck, and ears, and every other place he had let those dainty things wander to. I sunk further into the chair, no idea what to reply to him, my stomach in absolute tatters. Ringo scurried back into her room, making sure to get one more eyeful of Zayn before she rushed off. I was still relatively breathless when Zayn came and sat next to me. “Louis?” “Yeah.” I sighed. “You shagged him yet?” “No.” “You dying?” “Yeah.” “Thought so.” He nodded. I was going to miss Zayn over the break. Two weeks isn’t really a long time, but when you live with someone it definitely feels like it. Zayn had been just across the hall from me for three months now. The thought of not having that did make me feel slightly uncomfortable. “Next year.” I told him. “It’s on.” “Yeah?” He chuckled. I tried to ignore Harry as he scooted and slumped down on the sofa next to me, some kind of pasta dish in a giant bowl, which he quickly started munching into, eyes on the tele, no interest in myself and Louis. “Definitely. In January I’m getting some.” “I’m trying to eat here.” Harry groaned beside me. “Yeah well on more than one occasion, I’ve been trying to sleep when you’ve had a girl in your room, so I’m sure you can deal with this dinner conversation.” He couldn’t argue with that. There had been Tally within his first week and two others since. Maybe that was the same girl but there had been two other occasions. I couldn’t help but think about how awful Tally felt on the other side of him. She must have been able to hear those noises as clearly as I could. Poor girl. The microwave pinged eventually and I dashed over to get my meal, excited that this was the last microwaveable meal I would be having for the next fortnight. Being home and eating properly was going to be a beautiful thing. I noticed Harry shuffle even further into the corner of the sofa as I went and reclaimed my spot in the middle, trying not to spill any gravy from my bangers and mash dish. “I’m gunna miss this.” Zayn sighed. “Living like a slob?” Harry asked. “Yeah, pretty much.” “Same.” Harry agreed. “Gunna miss me, Styles?” I asked with a grin. “More than I can explain, Pip-Squeak. My heart aches at the thought that you won’t be around pissing me off.” “I figured that would be the case.” “Do you two ever shut up?” Zayn groaned. We did try to keep it as low-key as possible when Zayn was around. Neither of us necessarily enjoyed putting him in the middle, because one of the only similarities we shared was our mutual love for Mr Malik. Mike exited his room with a massive rucksack on, cheering merrily to himself, making Harry and Zayn laugh, whereas I turned up the volume on the TV. “Guess who’s going home for Christmas?” He bellowed, and then pointed to himself. “This guy! This twat right here.” I had to let out a little chuckle at that, seeing Mike do a little dance round the kitchen. The thing on his back suggested he was going camping for a week, the dance he was doing definitely suggested he was going to a festival. All in all, he looked brilliant, possibly even taller than I had previously thought. “Don’t you have a lecture tomorrow?” I asked him, aware of his schedule by that stage. “Yeah, but they called it off, so this twat, is going home a day early.” “Why do you keep calling yourself this twat?” “Because this twat, is in the best mood ever.” He told me. He did a couple more spins in the middle of the kitchen floor, pointing and cha-ing whenever it felt good to him, and we all watched with little smiles on our faces, tucking into our meals. Everyone was feeling pretty similar, to be honest. The only one of us who had gone home during the three months had been Tally. It was proof we liked it at uni, a lot, but it didn’t mean we all weren’t ready for some time at home. “Y’know what, Mike?” I said, shovelling some food into my mouth and smiling up to him. “I’m actually going to miss you.” “I… I mean, of course you are. Why-why do you sound so surprised by this?” He asked, offended. Harry let out a little sniffle beside me, laughing and shaking his head. Mike could be the most annoying person in the flat, which was saying something, but I would miss him even more thanks to that. He was too lovable. He shuffled off into the hall and started banging furiously on Tally’s door. “C’MON, TALLY-WHACKER, TIME TO GO!” Harry spat out some of his pasta, his laughter coming from his mouth and nose and even his fucking ears and literally any single way it could get out of his body, it did. I turned with an alarmed look on my face to see him, in absolute pieces. “Tally-Whacker.” He shook eventually. “That’s fucking genius. Why didn’t I think of that?” “You save your shitty nicknames for me.” I scoffed. “You know Tally-Whacker is worse than Pip-Squeak.” He turned to me. “You probably like it so much just because Tally has seen your Tally-Whacker.” “When was the last time you saw a Tally-Whacker, Pip-Squeak?” He bit back. “WILL YOU TWO JUST SHUT THE FUCK UP?” Mike yelled from the hall. “TALLY, COME ON! MY MUMS GUNNA BE OUTSIDE IN TWO MINUTES!” ”OKAY OKAY, I’M COMING.” We heard her mumble from her room. Harry threw down his empty bowl and crossed his arms, huffing loudly, nudging me with his shoulder as he did. I was glad Mike had interrupted when he did, because I could not think of a good come-back to what he had just thrown in my face. It had been a long time. A few minutes later, Tally came out of her room, dragging a giant pink suitcase behind herself and then locking her door, double and triple checking to make sure it was definitely locked, knowing me, Zayn and Harry were here for one more night. Who knew about Ringo. But if she left it open, we were bound to do something ridiculous for her to return home to in January. “You getting a lift?” Zayn asked her, forcing her to come into the kitchen and speak with us, even though she avoided Harry ten times more than I ever had. “Yeah. Mike’s mum was nice enough to say she would drop me off on the way.” If I remembered correctly, Mike was another half an hour’s journey or so in the car past the town where Tally’s family were. Then, in that exact moment, I had a sinking feeling; like a really sinking feeling, thinking about locations, adding things up in my head. And I swear, Harry had the same thing. He dramatically turned his head my way and I did the same to him, our eyes wide and our fears quickly being realised. “What train are you booked on tomorrow?” He asked breathlessly. “Seven to Manchester Piccadilly.” I answered. “Shit.” He cursed. + + + I swear I could feel Harry’s eyes on my face from across the table on the train, but then the second I looked up, his nose was back down in his book. So that’s where I returned mine, realising I must have read the same page at least three times, but it still hadn’t really been processed. Myself and Harry had had another run in in the communal showers the night before, and just discussed that we would sit away from each other on the train. Easy. But he had been running late, unlike myself, I had arrived in plenty of time. So when I saw Harry dash into our carriage, my stomach sunk, knowing that the seat directly across from me was the only one still free. I scowled at him with beady eyes, then once again, went back to my book, my eyes flickering between the words and him, seeing him hesitantly lift his head to look at me. That time, I had him. I bolted my head up so quickly he knew I had seen him drop his back down. He crinkled his nose, pretending to read as I stared him out, wondering if he would ever lift his head and tell me what the fuck he was staring at. I kicked him under the table. “Oww!” He cried, facing forward. “What?” I shuddered. “What?” He asked back. “Stop staring at me!” “I’m not fucking staring at you! Get over yourself.” I could see the lady next to Harry glancing between us, confused by the foundations of our relationship or if we were just two strangers on the train. Either way, the whole thing was stupid. We fell back into silence, the train bulking underneath us every other second, and I couldn’t help myself. I placed the book down, rubbing over my face with the back of my hand in case there was something on my skin, if that was why he had been staring at me. He chuckled under his breath. “What?” I shot again, through gritted teeth. “Nothing.” He shrugged. “Would you just give it up, Harry? I’m bored of it now, aren’t you?” “Honestly, Pip-Squeak, most of the time I get it, but I have no idea why you’re kicking off this time.” “You were staring!” I was almost squealing by this stage. “Why the hell would I be staring at you?” “I don’t know, you should probably have the answer to that since you were the one staring!” He pretended to strangle me from the other side of the table, shaking his floppy hair and returning to his book. I looked out of the window, wishing I had the window seat, since the guy next to me had fallen asleep and was not making the most of his seat at all. He looked like a student too, it seemed those three months had completely worn him out. I noticed scratches on his arms, worried his glasses were about to fall of the end of his nose and crack on the table or the floor, debating whether I should just push them back up a little, just to be safe. My fingers played with air thanks to the temptation, before I picked my book back up and ignored the urge. I don’t think Harry looked up to me again. If he had, I didn’t see, but I had finally been able to read my book, after many failed attempts. My heart fluttered with appreciation as I noticed we were pulling into the station, grateful to be so close to home, grateful to finally be escaping Harry. It also made me laugh that I knew he was another train journey away from his destination, whether it was a short one or not. It definitely made me feel a little better. Harry moved and put his book into the bag he had brought with him, which I figured looked relatively small for two weeks, but he did really only ever wear the same pair of jeans and a select few t-shirts. He looked across to me, seeing I was looking at him already. “Who’s staring now?” He smirked. “Piss off.” Once we had come to a complete standstill, the carriage unloaded itself. My suitcase mimicked the sound of the train as we walked side by side through the station. We trailed to the end of the line, and for some reason I stopped by Harry’s side as he looked up to the boards, and we both notices pretty quickly that his train was delayed. “Fuck.” He muttered under his heavy breath. It was busy in the station, people coming in from all over the country, others moving out, places to go, people and family to see. It was almost impossible to feel the way Harry did about families during such a season. I wondered where his head was on the matter at that point. I wondered what he was going home to, if he wanted to go home at all. He hunched his bag further on his shoulder, and even though we were practically indoors, the cold air reaching from the far end of the station made his breath appear in a thick cloud. “Gutted.” I mumbled up to the board. “Hope you’re not stuck here for hours. And hours. And more hours.” He looked down to me with one of his least amused faces yet as I tried to hold back my smile, my nose twitching as I attempted not to laugh at my own genius sarcasm. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” He groaned. “Yes, actually. I’ll be spending Christmas with my beautiful family. Should be home in... tops half an hour.” I grinned. “Then fuck off and go.” He sighed. The way he was reacting to my jokes, it didn’t seem like Harry would be going home to a mess of a family. He so wanted to get back. I knew having a train delayed going anywhere was frustrating, but nothing seemed to suggest he would be going back to hell. I grabbed hold of the handle to my case again, smiling smugly to myself. “Will do.” “Try to enjoy it without your brother.” I wanted to slap him for that comment, but in all honesty, I probably deserved it; I hadn’t been laying off him at all. But I still scowled and gave him the middle finger before I began storming off again, just about to make way through the glass doors when he called for me. “Pip-Squeak?” He yelled, necessarily loud. I turned around, waiting for him to say something. He awkwardly tucked his hands into the pocket of his giant coat, looking around himself as though asking why the hell he had just called my name, why the hell he had asked for my attention. Time dragged on, and I was mere seconds away from turning back around and clambering into the first taxi I saw outside, ready to get away from him. “Merry Christmas.” He simply said. I squinted my vision, staring blankly to him. He looked down to the floor as soon as he had said it, clearing his throat. It was so out of his nature, even just to say that, I could see his whole body rejecting the well wishes. It was totally surreal. “Merry Christmas.” I said back. Then I quickly turned around and dragged my case behind me, a weird lump in my throat, like I was going to cry. I held it back. + + + My mother screamed so loud when she flung the door open and saw my face, honestly, I almost fell backwards. My suitcase was left abandoned outside as she pulled me into her, still screaming, my face in her plump breasts, barely able to bloody breathe. I put my arms back around her for the first time in over three months, happy to be home. I lifted my head from its titty prison and glanced over her shoulder, seeing how inviting and warm my family home looked. It was an old building but had been made to look pretty modern on the inside, old wooden pillars leading to the ceiling that had been painted white, the hall long and thin with the stairs on the right-hand side. Thanks to the fact it was Christmas my mother had decided to just make the whole building a fire hazard by littering fairy-lights absolutely everywhere. But at least it looked nice. I had to drag myself away from her after the hug had gone on for far too long. “Oh god.” She grabbed at my cheeks. “Look at you, look how you’ve grown.” “I look exactly the same.” “No, no. You look like a woman. It’s like you getting your first period all over again.” ”Jesus Christ, mum!” “Come on now, Pippa, it’s Christmas. No blasphemy now.” “Yeah because we’re really religious.” She ushered me in and shut the door behind us, the cold air only lingering for a moment or two before an unfamiliar warmth wrapped around me. We always put the heating on at uni since our bills were covered in the price we paid to live there, but it never got that warm, it never felt that homely and comfortable. “PHILLIP!” My mum shrieked up the stairs, making me cringe. “PHILLIP YOUR DAUGHTER IS HOME, COME AND SAY HELLO.” “I’M JUST SENDING OUR DAVID ONE OF THESE EMAILS!” We heard him yell back down. “YOU HAVEN’T SEEN YOUR DAUGHTER FOR THREE MONTHS, PHILLIP! GET YOUR ARSE DOWNSTAIRS!” “I’M JUST TRYING TO FIGURE IT OUT, LOVE. GIVE US A MINUTE.” My dad was as behind on the technology front as my grandparents were. Probably even further, actually. He owned a company that fixed cars in the centre of town, a pretty small business but it had helped my mum and dad live a very comfortable life, alongside my mum being a dentist. They had more than a comfortable living, to be honest. But thanks to my dad’s every-man job, he had never needed to learn what he was doing online, and he was trying his best to catch up with the rest of the world. But it seemed even sending an email was a task. I wandered blissfully into the living room on the left side of the hall as my mum bobbed off to the end into the kitchen, flicking the kettle on and then joining me. We flopped onto the sofa together. “So how’s it been?” She asked excitedly. “Yeah it’s alright. The lifestyle is great. The lessons are alright.” “Urgh. You sound just like your brother.” “I’m happy with that.” I giggled, flicking through channels. “I thought you might be.” She grabbed the remote from me, sticking with one channel. “Have you spoke to him?” “Briefly. A few texts. He rang me last month too, that was nice.” I could see her welling up, just talking about him. He’d been gone a long time; I hadn’t seen him since I was 13 years old. I knew my mum and dad had gone to see him at uni a few times, but I never did. Even so, we managed all those Christmas’ without him, we did birthdays without him, that was just how things were. Of course, he was easier to talk to and be in touch with before he went traveling, but it wasn’t a complete shock to the system. But my mum still got emotional about it, she still held in tears every single time he was brought up. Maybe it was getting even worse for her. I missed Liam, but I guess I was used to it. I think it was getting harder for her, rather than becoming accustom to it, she started thinking about how long it genuinely had been since he left. She probably wondered why he never came back. I felt for her, I really did. I let my fingers slot between hers, giving her a little smile as she pulled herself together, and my dad walked into the living room. “Kettles boiled.” He told her, opening his arms for me as I leapt to my feet and embraced him. “Oh, my love, how’ve you been?” “Really good, yeah.” I pulled away. “And you?” “Aye not too bad. Hows uni?” “Yeah it’s good. It’s fun.” “The living situation?” He asked. “Mixed emotions.” I huffed, flopping back down as he moved into the armchair, and my mum went to make the tea. “Grace moved out, as you know, which was awful. But they’ve replaced her with this guy... and we really don’t get on.” “Why not?” He asked. “We just... wind each other up. We’re just not alike. Always at each other’s throats. Sometimes we let it be kind of playful just so we can get our frustration out, but then other times we’re literally so fucking angry with each other. He’s awful dad. He randomly punched some guy on a night out and I think he’d fuck anything with legs. Just not my kind of person. But all my mates get on with him, and obviously I live with him, so I have to deal with it. All the time.” “He sounds like a pillock.” My dad nodded. “You’re not bloody wrong, Phil.” My mum came back with our teas a few moments later and we all settled into a quiet evening in front of the TV. It felt like such a relief, being able to openly talk about how much Harry annoyed me with someone who didn’t like him or live with him or anything. It was a nice feeling, no matter how brief. So I told myself that would be it. I wouldn’t have to even think about Harry until next year. Now that, was a beautiful feeling. + + + I watched my grandad with a chuckle threatening to escape me, as his head kept going, his eyes closing themselves. He had farted himself awake about a minute earlier, so I was still kind of laughing about that, but watching his sleepy little head keep going like a baby or a puppy was just as amusing. Suddenly he went, chin down on his chest and snoring straight away, to which my grandma cringed and tutted and scowled in his direction, always like she was angry at him. Years and years of marriage had done that to them, but they still loved each other really. “What film are they showing this year?” The frail lady asked as she rose to her feet, collecting all our plates. I was still looking at my grandad and trying to contain myself. This had happened for the last few years. He had reached the age where as soon as a meal was done, so was he. It was his bedtime. I found it hard to recall years where my grandad hadn’t fallen asleep at the dinner table on Christmas Day. “E.T. I think.” My mum stood to help her. “It’s always bloody E.T.” My grandma scowled. I figured she was quite an angry lady, but that was her charm. She was still drinking vodka, like she did most nights, I had never once seen her nail-varnish chipped, her short hair was always in perfect ringlets down to her shoulders, her figure even better than mine. She was a pretty mesmerizing woman. Perfectly on cue with our conversation, which made me feel like it was fate, Louis text me. Louis: E.T. is on bbc in half an hour. I’m going to be crying like a baby. I liked that he remembered our first interaction, when he admitted to always crying at that film. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling something stronger than bog-standard attraction at that point. Me: The Secret Garden was on earlier. I’ve already done my crying for the day. Louis: I avoided that one like the bloody plague, I can only hack crying once a day otherwise I worry my masculinity will leave and never come back. “Pippa, who’re you texting?” My mum asked nosily. “No one.” “Is it a boy?” She asked, to which I rolled my eyes. “They’ll stay in the back of your head if you keep doing that, Pippa. I’ve always warned you.” “Yeah, but now I’m not ten years old I don’t believe you. Unlike the time you made me cry because I was so convinced.” “But then you didn’t roll your eyes until you turned into a grotty little teenager. I had three years of absolute bliss where you didn’t roll your eyes once.” She smiled, beginning to clear the table. My grandad mumbled some non-coherent bullshit as he came back to life for a split second, probably speaking a section of his dream before he was straight back down, snoring again. I could virtually see my grandma strangling him in her head. “So who is he?” My mum asked after a few minutes of silence. “Are we really doing this?” I groaned. “Yes.” My mother and grandmother chimed in time. “Fine. He’s called Louis.” “From university?” “Yup.” “What’s he studying?” My grandma asked. “Art.” They both made disapproving noises as they collected plates and took them over to the sink, which just made me sigh and roll my eyes yet again, glad my mum wasn’t looking to catch me the second time. I expected nothing less from a family who had made sure I went to university to study English rather than Photography, a family who had been disapproving enough when I studied Photography at college. They’d rather I was meeting a boy who studied something apparently ‘sensible’ like Maths or Science or anything like that. “Everyone in my flat does subjects to do with the arts.” I shrugged. “You’re joking?” She seemed appalled. “What do they do?” “Zayn does Art. Mike and Tally do Drama. Ringo does Music and Harry does Photography.” “I just can’t believe those are actually subjects you can study at university.” My grandma shook her head in disbelief. I understood it a little more from her. She was old… Old as fuck. Her generation were beyond the point of catching up. It’s only really people my grandmas age who could get away with being completely narrow-minded. You’d just kind of have to shrug it off, say ‘oh you’ and forget whatever bullshit just slipped from an elderly persons mouth. But my mum being so baffled by those subjects was weird for me. When she had bought me my first camera, I thought it might have been her aim for me to develop a passion rather than take pictures of mindless bullshit and me and my mates on a night out. It turned out she would rather see pictures of me in a drunken state than seeing anything I had put a little effort into. Thanks to that, it was a rare occasion I would pick up a camera other than my phone. It felt too disheartening. I kept my head down and locked my phone, feeling discouraged. Christmas Day was actually always pretty boring, I wished I still had my brother around to make me laugh. My dad strolled into the kitchen and grabbed my mum by her waist, making her squeal and giggle as he turned her around and held her back to his front, kissing her cheek as my grandma left the room tutting at them and their public display of affection. Usually I would be the same, but due to recent conversations about family, it was kind of nice seeing them being that way with one another. They gave me hope. I stood up and began collecting glasses, putting them into the sink, ready to sit down to watch E.T. and probably text and think about Louis throughout. + + + The Christmas season had taken its toll on me. I don’t even remember being sober for any part of it, to be honest, and New Year’s Eve was bound to be no different. We were round at Sophia’s, because her house was huge and her parents were a little surreal, they had no qualms in her having as many people round at their family home as she wanted. So due to the surreal amount of friends Sophia had, the place was jammed. The 24 hour clock on the wall said it was 23:23 which meant we were very close to entering the next year, which basically terrified me because of the thought of going into the second year of uni, getting older, another year on the list without my brother. It honestly terrified me. On the 1st, I would be fine, wouldn’t even think about it, but the lead up to the actual event was a completely different story. Like an impending doom kind of feeling. “You kissing anyone?” Katie asked me. “Am I fuck.” I huffed. I think the main thing was I didn’t even want to kiss anyone if it wasn’t going to be Louis. Not that there would be anything wrong with it, there was definitely nothing official between me and him, but I didn’t like the thought of kissing anyone else. I liked kissing him. Katie was fine for the whole kissing moment, since she had been going out with Gregg since the first year of college. The worst part of it all was I kind of hated that I didn’t have anyone to kiss. I should have never felt that way, but I definitely did. “There are so many guys here though.” She cried to me. “Yeah well, you’ve not seen Louis.” I sighed wistfully. “Okay, well show me.” I got my phone out of my pocket and scrolled through my camera album in the hope I had a picture of his beautiful face somewhere, since the lad refused to get a Facebook like a normal person. Luckily, I stumbled across one, and even more luckily, he looked as good in the picture as he did in real life. My face went painfully smug as I held my phone in front of her eyes and let her look at him. “Yes.” She nodded. “Yes. He will do nicely.” “I know.” “Shag him. Shag his brains out.” “I plan to.” En route to dragging my phone back into my pocket it started buzzing in my hand, knowing it would be Zayn since he promised to ring, but still pretty excited to see his name and a little picture of us in Thimble to accompany it. I began pushing through the crowd in the hope I would make it outside quickly to answer the call, but the amount of people in there made me realise pretty quickly that if I left it that long I would miss the call completely. I swiped my thumb across the screen and yelled. “GIVE ME A MINUTE!” “Jesus, Pippa, where the hell are you?” I heard him giggle. “GIVE ME ONE MINUTE.” I held my phone up in the air as I pushed and shoved until I was out in the cold. It wasn’t really quiet, you could still hear the music blaring from inside and all the smokers had congregated there for the evening, but it was loads better. Even so, I pushed my finger into my spare ear and held my phone up against the other. “Okay, I’m here.” I smiled. “Good. Finally. You alright? Sound sober.” He grimaced. “As a judge.” “Why?” “I tend to hit my peak in the beginning shreds of January rather than the last of December. Happens every year. Literally, I’ll be fine and then at about one-minute past twelve, I’ll be on the floor. It’s a beautiful thing. Can’t explain it.” I already missed him, so even his voice was a kind sound to my ears. I guess over that Christmas break we both realised how close we had gotten in our time together. Yeah, it was nice being at home with the people I had been to college with, my best friends from home, but none of them were like Zayn. “I’m sober as all hell too.” He replied. “How come?” I pressed my back against the bare brick. “Me and Harry have agreed to drop something as soon as it hits midnight, though by the looks of things he’s found some lass to kiss.” “Wait, you’re with Harry?” I swear my stomach dropped. I hated myself for it straight away, how pathetic it was to get jealous of a friendship. But I hated Harry and I loved Zayn and the thought that they were now pally enough to spend their New Years together didn’t sit well with me. “Yeah. We were talking and he said he didn’t have any plans so I invited him to spend it with me.” “Oh. Cool.” “You’re the worst liar of all time, Pip.” “When did I lie?” I huffed. “Well maybe it wasn’t quite a lie but you definitely don’t think it’s cool that Harry’s here.” He laughed. My eyes were right in the back of my head but I couldn’t help but laugh a little, not too surprised he had figured me out so easily. “You having a good time though?” I choked. “Yeah, he’s a laugh.” “Then that’s good. It shouldn’t bother me.” “Honestly, Pip, I’m gunna speak to him too, but when we get back next year I think you should both just try that little bit harder-” “I’ve tried, Zayn!” I butt in rudely. “I know you have, Pip, but you could both try a little harder. He’s a good lad, we all know you’re the greatest woman of all time-” “Agreed.” “- so if you could just do that, for me, that would be the best thing ever. And you’ll feel ten times better for it. So?” “So what?” “Will you try?” He begged. He sounded so adorable. If he had been with me I probably would have punched his arm and yelled a little more, but it was hard to be mad when all I could hear was his silly little voice. “You have to speak to him too.” I sighed. “If he agrees to it, so will I.” “You promise?” I could hear him smile. “Only if-” I tried. “PROMISE, PIPPA?” “OKAY I PROMISE!” I heard him celebrate to himself on the other line, hearing the background noise to the party he was at as much as he could probably hear the background noise at mine. “You’re the best, Pippa.” He said eventually. “If it doesn’t work out this time than that’s okay, I’ll let you off. Just one more go and if you still hate each other, I’ll abandon him forever.” “I knew you’d pick me over him.” I smirked. Even though I knew he was joking, that wasn’t the case at all, I was happy because he knew that saying that would comfort me, thanks to how protective I was of our friendship. It was enough. “Obviously. Anyway, I’m gunna go. See if we’re doing this MD together or if Harry is going to be fucking this girl instead.” “Tell her he has an STI, that ought to put her off.” I grinned. “What did I tell you about making an effort?” He told me off like a naughty toddler. “You’re right. Go have fun. See you in a few days alright? Be safe tonight.” “Will be. Happy New Year’s, Pippa.” “You too, Zayn, bye. Bye. Bye.” I often found it hard to hang up the phone without saying bye at least two times. This was something I seemed to inherit from my mother. I strolled back inside with a lazy smile on my face, kind of hoping that the month of January would be the month that mine and Harry’s friendship flourished. But that was just for Zayn, no other reason.