#like Yeah my brother in christ that is what happens when you neglect your home and hoard shit

[twinknote]

not my mom acting like it’s normal for my dying stepdad and his friend who is coming to visit him to have to sit outside in the 85 degree humid heat because there’s literally nowhere for them to sit inside. and also her Dreading one of them asking to use the bathroom bc God forbid anyone other than the three of us witnesses the deeply disturbing mess that is this house

[jilliannotfound]

techno x little sister reader ??? like where reader is trying to get his attention and wants to play but he’s ignoring her and being really mean then wilbur goes and talks to him about it bc reader goes crying to wilbur :) angst to fluff lmao <3 thank u in advance!!

𝔽𝕒𝕞𝕚𝕝𝕪

Technoblade x LittleSister!Reader (in-game)

Summary: Request

Warnings: None!

A/N: Hello! I adore BigBrother!Technoblade and absolutely loved writing this! Enjoy :)

—

Y/N normally wasn’t allowed to leave the house without her older brother's permission, but he was already mad so was it even a big deal?

She snuck out of the house and headed towards the nether portal as quickly as she could, making sure to follow the most used path to avoid making new footprints in the snow.

When she arrived in L’Manburg there was only one thing on her mind; find Wilbur.

As soon as the brunette was spotted Y/N made a beeline towards him and once he spotted the small girl heading his way completely alone his concern grew.

“Hey, what’re you doing here? Where’s Techno?” He asked.

The tears that had been threatening to fall for the entire journey there finally escaped her eyes along with a few small sobs.

Wilbur immediately crouched down to her level and wrapped his arms around her.

“What happened?” He questioned when her cries stopped.

“He’s so mad at me, Will. I didn’t even do anything!” She whimpered, recalling the interaction that had happened minutes earlier.

The tall, pink-haired man was gathering his tools and armor when Y/N approached him with a wide smile.

“Technooo…” She chimed, dragging out the final letter.

“Hmm?” He hummed quietly barely acknowledging the girl in front of him.

“Do you want to go play? Tommy showed me this really fun game we could try.”

“I’m busy.”

“Maybe I can help you!”

“No. I have to go.” He said standing up and adjusting his helmet.

“But, I just want-“

“I said no, Y/N.” His tone was harsh as he stormed out of the house, leaving her alone.

“I just wanted to spend time with him. He barely even talks to me anymore. I just miss my brother!” She sobbed into the brunette's chest.

It broke Wilbur's heart to see the way Techno had hurt the girl that was crying in his arms and he was determined to bring it to the man's attention.

The two sat in the middle of L’Manburg for a while until she calmed down as Wilbur whispered reassurances.

“I’ve got an idea!” He said. “How about we go visit Niki at her bakery?”

The mention of Niki changed her mood as she nodded quickly and they began following the path to the small bakery.

When they entered the sweet-smelling shop Niki immediately picked up on the girl's previous sadness from the tear stains on Wilbur's shirt and the slight sniffle she had.

“Two of my favorite people!” She smiled. “What brings you in?”

“We’re just hanging out, but we needed a bit more fun.” Wilbur said.

“Lucky for you, I have a ton of treats that need to be decorated and I’d love it if I could get some help!”

Y/N’s smile grew wide as Niki invited her behind the counter.

“I’m going to go take care of something really quick, but I’ll be back soon to join you.” He said, giving Niki a look.

Wilbur left the bakery and headed down the path through the nether until he reached the large cabin in the mountains.

He immediately spotted his target chopping down trees a few yards away.

When Wilbur finally reached the man he was instantly threatened with an axe.

“Christ, Technoblade, it’s just me.”

“Sorry!” He responded, setting the axe down and leaning against an unchopped tree. “What’re you doing here?”

“Oh, you know…” He started, looking around. “Hey, where’s Y/N?”

“At home. Why?”

“Well, it's just that she’s actually in L’Manburg right now.”

Shock immediately overtook Techno’s face.

“Don’t even try to get mad at her. She literally ran to me in tears saying how you’ve been ignoring her. I know you’re all tough and independent, but she’s a kid and she needs her brother.”

Techno hadn’t realized his neglect towards his sibling and it pained him to know he was the reason for her tears.

“I get that you’re busy, but I think she’d really enjoy even just spending the rest of the day with you.” Will continued. “I’m not trying to make you feel like a bad brother, Techno. We’ll be at Niki’s bakery if you decide to join us.”

And with that being said Wilbur turned around and went back to the two girls, praying they’d be joined by the man he’d just spoken to.

He entered the bakery to find them both covered in frosting and giggling.

“You having fun?” He asked.

“Yeah! We made cupcakes for everyone in L’Manburg!” Y/N exclaimed, pointing to the decorated desserts that resembled the country’s flag.

“They’re gorgeous! Delicious too, I bet.”

“You deserve a treat for your hard work.” Niki said as she plated two cupcakes and handed them to Y/N and Wilbur.

As they sat at one of the small tables the little bell above the door chimed informing them that someone entered the bakery.

The man's head was hung in almost shame as the three occupants of the bakery stared.

“Hello!” Niki welcomed as Wilbur stood up and lightly gestured for the tall man to take his seat.

“Hey, kid.” Techno spoke softly, sitting down across from his sibling.

She continued to stare at him without saying anything, confused by his major mood change from earlier.

“I’m sorry we haven’t been hanging out so much lately, I guess I forgot what it’s like to take a break.”

She gave him a small smile. “It’s alright.”

He smiled back as she dragged her finger through the frosting on the cupcake in front of her. Before he could figure out her plan, her finger was on his nose covering it in the sweet topping.

“Y/N!” He laughed as she dissolved into a fit of giggles.

“You kind of deserved that one, mate.” Wilbur laughed, patting Y/N on the back for a mission success.

[parkers-gal]

How about some Tom angst, when after getting off a flight and feeling gross and wanting to go home, Tom is swarmed by fans and takes forever signing stuff

requests are open

—

After waking up at four A.M. for your flight, you and Tom had learned it would be delayed for a few hours. It was out of your controls, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t be frustrated. You were stuck in a swarming airport with an A-list celebrity; it was only a matter of time before they mobbed you. You had already been followed by the paparazzi on the way here, you couldn’t handle anything else this early. 

By the time the clock struck six o’clock, more fans had started piling the airport. It seemed as though airport security could not care less about your entire ordeal, so you and Tom were stuck hiding out in a family bathroom until your flight was scheduled to take off. 

It had been sixteen hours since then, and you hadn’t showered in almost a day. You felt icky and exhausted, wanting to get off the plane and directly home once the aircraft landed. 

Of course, you couldn’t.

Tom, being the gentleman he is, left you alone to pick up the baggage so he could be with the fans for a little longer. You didn’t mind at first, thinking if he went now, the two of you could leave once you finished grabbing the suitcases. 

You were wrong, however, because as Tom was taking pictures and signing posters, you were stuck in the middle of about twenty paparazzis, begging for details and secrets regarding Tom and his career. 

You groaned — internally, of course — and forced a polite smile towards the men surrounding you. You could handle this many cameras and people and pictures shoved in your face — on a good day. This, however, wasn’t a good day. You were irritated before you even got on the plane; you couldn’t deal with this right now. 

Excusing yourself through the crowd, you left the luggage with Marty, a body guard working for the airport, and made your way  over to Tom. You had to lean in close just so he could hear you, but you spoke in a whisper, not wanting to startle him. 

“Can we get going?”

He turned his head with another smile, nodding his head before whispering back, “Just a few more minutes.”

A few more minutes turned into fifteen, and you had texted Harry to park somewhere close. He complied of course, and you made your way over to Tom one last time just to tell him you were leaving. 

You abandoned him before he could reply, Marty following you to the exit and fighting off quite a few paps. He quickly situated the luggage into the back, and you thanked him with a twenty, sliding into the passenger seat next to the younger Holland. 

“Hey Y/N-” he paused just as he was about to switch gears from park to drive. “Where’s Tom?”

You sighed, still slightly annoyed. “Inside.”

“Doing..?” “He’s been with the fans for the past thirty minutes, what do you think?”

You felt sorry for snapping at him, but he nodded, smiling softly as though to say “I understand.” It was comforting, knowing he had been in your position before. The person that was always accompanying Tom, the person that was neglected because they weren’t the celebrity in Hollywood. It was comforting to know that you weren’t the only one being neglected, and not just by the fans. 

Harry rolled down your car window, the one closest to Marty. 

“Hey, man!” Harry hollered over the loud sounds of cars, airplanes and screaming fans. “Can you get Tom? We’ve got to leave now. Tell him it’s Harry!”

Marty nodded silently, undoing a button on his suit before gliding through the glass doors and directly into the crowd. He had a gun, not that he would ever use it.

You sat in the running car listening to Harry’s playlist, for ten minutes. Tom finally got in the backseat, but by this point, you were fuming. Harry could tell, too — he’d tried to make things easy for you, but it’s not like he could fix his brother’s oblivious state. 

The car ride home was filled with tension, and unbearably so. You didn’t bother helping with the luggage, either. Tom hadn’t helped you in the airport, and you sure as hell didn’t want to stand around in the cold London air when you could be taking a warm bath or a refreshing shower. 

Stepping inside, you nearly slammed your keys into the bowl, unwrapping your scarf from your neck just as Tom set the luggage down. 

“Love?” He took another step, removing his gloves. “What’s wrong?’

“You! You’re what’s wrong!” 

Harrison and Tuwaine smiled politely, awkward in whatever situation had just walked through the door. 

“What do you mean?”

Hanging your coat up, you walked into the kitchen for a quick glass of tea before you planned to shower. “I mean, you took nearly forty minutes signing shit, Tom! Do you realize what time it is?”

“It’s late, I know-”

“No, Tom,” you spoke sternly. You suspected everyone was listening with how quiet the house was. “You don’t know. We’re over five hours late. You left me alone in baggage claim- I- I had to eat breakfast in a fucking bathroom, for Christ’s sake!”

“That’s not my fault,” He defended himself. 

“I never said it was! I am saying today has been a shitty day! You taking the extra time with your fans just happened to tie the knot!” “It wasn’t even that long.”

You scoffed, slamming your mug down onto the kitchen counter. 

“I have been awake for over twenty hours. I’m not having this conversation if you can’t see how ridiculously long this entire day was.” 

You left the kitchen, sending a rough “Hi,” to the boys before making your way upstairs, footsteps harsh on the hardwood floor. 

“Y/N!” Tom yelled, making his way to you again. 

“What, Tom?” You were nearly crying at how frustrating today was. All you wanted to do was take a bath and go to sleep. Get some fucking rest in your own bed without people you didn’t even know, swarming you. “What?”

He breathed out heavily. “I’m- I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how exhausting today was for you.”

“Yeah well, it was. I don’t have the energy to fight or be mad so if you don’t want to deal with this right now then you can sleep on the couch or something.”

“No- no I-” he chuckled, rubbing his forehead. “Look, I’m sorry. That’s what I was trying to say.” You looked up at him, pausing before nodding. “Let me help you- you’re tired and probably want to shower before you sleep.”

“Yeah, I do,” you were still speaking harshly, and Tom stepped forward, inviting you into his embrace. You accepted the invitation, falling into his chest and hugging him tightly, because no matter how infuriating this boy was, you knew you needed him. 

[sunflowersunshinevol6]

Crawl Before You Walk

Part 3

Pairing: Harry x Reader

Warnings: domestic violence, angst, child abuse, death

A/N: this is a hard chapter

Throughout the rest of the day Jake is the perfect gentleman. He walks me to my classes and waits for me after. He even carries my books for me. 

“See,” Gemma points out approvingly. “That’s the type of relationship you need." I just grin, feeling like the happiest girl in the world. 

“Can I give you a ride home?” he asks at the end of the day as I grab my book bag from my locker. 

“Sure. If you want to.” I see Gemma meeting up with her brother down the hall and wave. Sbe waves back, but Harry averts his eyes. Whatever then. 

We pull up outside my house and he parks. I sit there for a moment. I haven’t been home in a while and I’m not ready for what I’m about to walk into. Jake must have noticed the change in my demeanor because he places a hand on my shoulder. 

“You okay?” I nod. 

“Yeah….Thanks for the ride.” He leans over and pecks my lips. I reluctantly get out of the car and slowly make my way up to the old apartment we’ve lived in my whole life. 

It’s a duplex, but the other half of the house has been vacant for years. No one can stand living next to my parents and people got tired of calling the cops all the time. I can’t blame them for that. I take the key I’ve placed beneath the mat and unlock the door. Anxiety floods me as I step through, the stench of neglect filling my nose. I see my father in the kitchen. He slams the refrigerator shut, cracking a beer. He’s dirty, unshaven and looks like he hasn’t changed his clothes in days. He sees me immediately and narrows his eyes. He stomps around the island in the center of our kitchen and barrels towards me. I back up. 

“Where the hell have you been?” my dad corners me as soon as I close the door, specks of spit hitting my face as he towers over me. I look down and away from him, he hates it when I look him in the eye, I am not his equal. 

“With the Styles family dad. I was staying with them,” he shoves past me, raising the bottle to his lips. 

“What was that?” I hear my mother shriek. 

“Your slut daughter was over at those boys’s house again.” I quickly walk to my room, trying to ignore my mother as she berates me and yells about how if I get knocked up she isn’t taking care of the baby. I lock the door and press my back to it. Sighing, I sink to my knees and wrap my arms around them. 

“Who are you?” The officer asks Harry, I see him from the police cruiser I’m sitting in. My father’s already gone, my mother is on her way to the hospital and I am a ten year old sitting in a police car. I haven’t bathed in three days and my stomach is growling profusely. 

“I’m Harry. Her friend. My mom sent me to get her.” he hands the officer a note, the officer reads it over before stepping out of the way. 

“She’s over there.” I wipe my face, praying he doesn’t notice I’ve been crying. My father is scary and you never know what or when he’s going to go off

Y/N?” Harry is eleven. He reaches out and gently grabs my hand, pulling me to my feet. I follow him willingly and he helps steady me on the handlebars of his bike. 

“You two be careful,” the officer calls after us as we ride off into the night.  

I cover my ears as the screaming intensifies. I’m hyperventilating, I can’t breathe. I hear things being thrown, the sound of flesh meeting flesh and my mother’s screams. Tears fall from my cheeks as I listen to them fight. I can’t take the fighting anymore. I get up and put my coat on and grab my shoes, deciding to go out for a while. 

“Damnit Angela!” I hear my dad shout, and then I jump, dropping my shoes to the floor as I hear the sound of a lone gun shot ring out. I’m frozen to the spot. There’s another shot. And then one more. 

I hear my father moving around, I flinch as I hear the sound of him reloading the gun, an old one, that belonged to my grandpa. It was his most prized possession. My mind tells me to run, but fear grips me tightly as I hear the sound of his footsteps coming towards my room. My heart is pounding in my chest. 

“Y/N!” he screams through the door. He kicks it in, wood splinters go everywhere. I still can’t move, my eyes wide and filled with tears. Remorse crosses his face, but only for a moment, before he’s seized again with his drunk demons. “I’m sorry.” he aims at me. 

And fires.

“I wish I lived here.” I say to Gemma. We’re in her room playing with barbies. I am six, she is nine. 

“You can if you want to. My mom and dad love you.” I smile at that thought. Living with her  and her family, nobody screaming and fighting, always feeling safe and comfortable. What I wouldn’t give to have that kind of life. 

A knock on the door makes us both turn our heads. Gemma's mom stands in the doorway, she looks uneasy, as if she’s wrestling with herself about something. I smile at her. I hope she isn’t mad at me. 

“Y/N...Honey. Your mom is here to get you.” the smile falls from my face. I don’t want to leave. But Ms. Styles walks over and gently takes my hand. I wish she was my mom. And leads me from Gemma's room. 

“See you at school Y/N.”

“See you.”

I wake up on the floor. My whole body is aching. I grown, reaching for my stomach. I am mortified to find a hole there. “Jesus Christ.” I sob in pain as I try to sit up. I grab the edge of my bed and pull myself up into a sitting position. I take a deep breath and look up. 

My father lies in my doorway. His chest isn’t moving. I don’t know where my mother is. But I know what happened. I want to cry. I should cry. But I don’t feel like it. I just stare at his body. It’s over. I think. It’s finally fucking over. Then something else occurs to me. I’m bleeding, badly. And my parents are dead. 

I struggle to my feet, staggering against the wall, my shoes left behind, my coat half hanging off of my body. Fear fills me as I step around my father’s lifeless corpse and into the hallway. I see my mom, she looks like she’s passed out, slumped over in her chair. The kitchen and the living room are destroyed. Broken glass cuts my feet, but I have to keep going. I have to get out of here. 

I make it to the front door and throw it open, not bothering to close it behind me. There’s nothing there anymore. No reason to shut it. No more fighting. No more screaming. 

I walk, my feet are cold, blood dripping through my fingers, five blocks, towards the Styles household. I keep my eyes open and focused on what’s in front of me. I don’t want to think about what I’ve left behind. Not when I don’t even know how I feel about it yet. Regardless of how they treated me….They were my mom and dad….And I loved them. I really fucking did, as twisted as that sounds. 

I struggle up the steps to their house. It’s getting harder to put one foot in front of the other, black spots dance in front of my eyes. I don’t have the energy to press the code. I knock. Softly. I lean my forehead against the door, letting the cold wood cool my head, and maybe help me get rid of this headache. I knock over and over and over again, hoping someone hears me. 

Gemma's P.O.V

I stop, looking at the front door curiously. I wait and listen, then I hear it again. Knocking, soft and repetitive. I look at my watch. It’s late, one in the morning. Everyone is asleep, we have school in the morning. Cautiously I walk towards the door and flick the porch light on. 

“Who is it?” I call out as quietly as I can. The knocking continues, uneasiness settles over me, but something tells me to open the door. That I need to open the door. Now. 

Your P.O.V. 

The porch light comes on. I hear Gemma call through the door, asking who it is. I don’t answer, I’m tired. I need to lie down. I slump to my knees, my head falling to my chest. I knock. One more time. Hoping she won’t turn me away, I can feel myself slipping back into unconsciousness. 

Just let go. I can hear a voice say in my head. Just let go. The door swings open and I fall forward. Before the darkness overtakes me, I can hear Gemma scream. 

“What do you want to be when you grow up Y/N?” Harry asks me. We’re at the lake. This is the first time I’ve ever gone fishing in my life. I’m not very good, but Harryis a good teacher. I am thirteen, he is fourteen. 

“I know what I don’t want to be,” I say. I bring my pepsi to my lips and take a long sip. It’s very refreshing as it is nearly 100 degrees on this beautiful summer day. Harry waits patiently for me to continue. “Drunk and angry like my parents.” I look over at him with a sad smile. He nods in agreement. 

“I’m sorry you have to deal with that.”

“Me too.”

“I wish there was something I could do.” He said this to me a lot. His sister  did too. They hated it when my mother came to pick me up, nearly having to drag me out of their house every time. “I always feel so helpless,” his fishing rod jerks, he begins to reel it in. Our conversation is forgotten for a moment as he pulls up a catfish. “Look at this!” he shouts excitedly. I think it’s gross. 

“Throw it back,” I say with recoil. He dangles the fish close to my face. I laugh. “Come on.” he pulls the fish off the hook. 

“Sorry fishy.” he says before gently placing it back in the lake. I look away unsure if he had killed it while he was taking the hook out. 

“Did it swim away?” I ask. He pauses for a moment before shrugging. 

“Yeah. It got away.” He picks up the cooler that sat between us and his pepsi. “Let’s go home. I’m hungry and mom’s making Gemma's favorite tonight.”

Third Person P.O.V

Everyone is exhausted. Gemma'’s scream had everyone out of the beds and in the hall in seconds. 

“Y/N!” Gemma cries out, falling to the floor beside a scarf  pressed against Y/N's wound. The grey fabric darkens with blood. 

“Harrt.” his eyes flicker to his mother, she has tears in her eyes. “Harry call the police now.” Harry nods, darting from the hallway and into the kitchen, confusion and guilt filling him as he dials the number. 

“Hello? We need an ambulance….my friend’s been shot.” He quickly gives the operator the address and rushes back into the hall. His father is holding his mother, who’s sobbing, a look of absolute heartbreak on her face. Gemma's shaking Y/N, trying to wake her. Y/N’s lips are turning purple, the rise and fall of her chest is slowing. Harry bites his lip and punches the wall in anger, startling his mother and earning a glare from his father. 

He walks down the hall and begins to pace, placing his hands behind his head, tears roll down his cheeks. He doesn’t know what’s going on. He doesn’t know what happened. All he knows is if he hadn’t lead her on and then rejected her, if he hadn’t given in to the secret thoughts he’d had about her, she would have been here. At his house sleeping. Not lying unconscious bleeding all over their hall floor. 

Gemma rides in the ambulance with Y/N. Harry and his  parents follow behind. Y/N is rushed into emergency surgery. No one suggests going home and coming back later. Y/N is like a daughter and a sister. They will stay with her. They will be there. 

“How is she?” Anne asks the doctor. A police officer stands beside him. The doctor shakes his head. 

“She lost a lot of blood….Would you be willing to donate? Are you type A?” Harry walks up, placing a hand on his mother's shoulder.

“I’m type A. I’ll do it.” The doctor nods appreciatively. 

“I’ll tell the nurse and bring you in, in about five minutes.” he walks away. The police officer clears his throat, snagging Harry's and his mother’s attention. 

“I’ve gone over your statements. You seem like good people. Taking this girl in….We went to her parents house as you suggested….” he hesitates, not wanting to tell them what happened. It’s one of the worst crimes he’s seen in years. 

“What happened?” Harry jumps, he didn’t notice his father walking up behind him. Gemma is dozing in one of the chairs.

“It appears to be a murder suicide….Both parents are dead.” Anne gasps, covering her mouth with her hand, his father wraps an arm around her, holding her tightly. Harry feels sick to his stomach. “The place was completely destroyed….The girl...Y/N...He door was kicked in.”

“Oh my God.” his father says in disbelief. “That crazy bastard finally did it.” 

The doctor finally returns, he motions for Harry to follow him. Harry sits down and rolls up his sleeve. His eyes are burning, he’s exhausted, but he’s going to do this. He’d do anything for Y/N. He loves her. Maybe he fucked up, maybe he encouraged her, but never in a million years had he come close to losing her. His best friend.

“Ready?” The nurse asks. Harry nods, closing his eyes as the needle pierces skin. 

“You can get Hepatitis.” Gemma says rolling her eyes. Harry laughs, shaking his head. 

“No you can’t. And besides, you’re my sister. We have the same blood.” Gemma points at Y/N, who stands there with her finger out, a bright drop of blood on the end. 

“She doesn’t though.” 

“That’s kinda the whole point Gem. We’re making her one of us.” Harry pokes his finger and hands the small tac to Gemma, who does the same. 

“Okay. We’ll be blood brothers,” Harry says excitedly. The push their pointer fingers together, smearing each other’s finger with their blood. They’ll always be together now. 

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.10

The Reveal (final)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 3970

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. After Natasha provided you some supporting evidince, you take up courage and go talk to Steve. It goes about as well as expected... okay, maybe it’ not that bad.

Warnings: some awkwardness, swearing, fluffiest fluff to ever fluff

Story Mastelist

────── ·❆· ──────

You were standing in front of the door, staring at it blankly. Once again, you were replaying something in your mind, unable to leave the loop.

Natasha had given you a recording. A recording of her conversation with Steve. An impossible recording.

“When— when did-- this happen?” you had asked her shakily, absolutely stunned and carefully guarding your heart so you wouldn’t let the hope in. This can’t be real.

“Can’t you tell? You were there in the beginning. It was the night you talked to Matt.”

“You— how-?”

“Honestly, you are both so pathetically oblivious it hurts. You really need to finally make out. I’m sure it will feel better than with Matt.”

You had had no words that could reply to that comment satisfactorily, so you had aimed for a different issue.

“He said that being with a teammate-“

“And you heard what I said back. Just take a fucking shower, brush your teeth and go talk to him, Frosty. And try to keep it quiet,” she had mumbled and you had looked at her, honestly clueless.

“Keep it— you think we’ll fight?”

“I think you’ll fuck, sestra.”

You were still blushing when standing in front of Steve’s door almost an hour later. You were a nervous wreck, still not quite accepting the possibility of the recording not being fake. Then again, there was this annoying hope sprouting in your heart and you totally blamed the sneaky Russian spy for that.

“Captain Rogers, I would like to inform you that your teammate known as Frostbite, or Snowflake as you like to call her, is standing in front of your door for exactly five minutes now,” a well-known voice with British accent announced in Steve’s room, loud enough for you to hear it.

Oh, JARVIS, you sly AI.

“Frosty? Wanna come in?” he called out lightly and you released the breath you had been holding and knocked on the door uselessly. Steve humoured you, inviting you in once more.

You hesitantly opened the door, all your mental bravado flying out of the window. Not that there had been much to begin with in the first place, but it had been something.

You peeked into the room, finding Steve cosy on his bed, resting his back against the headboard, his knees bended. He switched to sitting cross-legged when you entered.

“Hey,” he greeted you softly, putting his sketchbook aside and you managed a half-hearted smile.

“Hi, Steve. Haven’t seen this baby for a while,” you noted, beckoning to the notebook. He smiled shyly, closing it.

“Yeah. I thought it needed revisiting so it wouldn’t feel neglected. Haven’t seen you for a while.”

You closed the door, pressing your lips together at the strike. ”Fair. I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t want to ignore you. I… I just needed some time for myself.”

His baby-blues searched your face with a hint of worry.

“You look tired. Come sit?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the care. Yes, of course, Steve cared. Steve loved you even, but… but.

“Thanks.”

You approached the bed slowly; seating yourself on the bed felt like sealing a deal, as if there was no way out now. It was time to talk and possibly embarrass yourself for a lifetime. He moved a little closer, coy, but with a goal. He lightly caressed your bare arm, his honest eyes locked with yours. Shit you really could drown in that sea of blue.

“Feel better now? No need for more alone time?”

You closed your eyes, taking in his gentle touch. This was a great opportunity – he literally offered you a way to say it.

“I… I think I was alone for long enough,” you whispered, his soothing motion faltering. You opened your eyes slowly, worried about his reaction.

“Is it about the date? Did something happen?”

You observed his face wearing a strange expression you always interpreted as worry – this time, you couldn’t help feeling like there was something else, something you couldn’t put your finger on. His brow furrowed with anger too.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he asked warily, his anger making sense to you now. But there was still something… “Snowflake? Did he-“

“No! No, Steve, Matt didn’t hurt me. He was… he was really nice to me, actually.”

“Oh. Good.”

Despite his words, something in his eyes darkened. It was such a tiny change, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but you were fascinated by his hypnotic gaze until he wasn’t looking into your eyes anymore. His hand fell too and his fingers started crumbling his sheets as if they couldn’t stay still. His lips formed a smile, but you didn’t believe it. You knew him too well.

“Where did you go? What was it like? Was he a gentleman?”

You licked you lips. His interest seemed genuine, but once again, there was hint of something venomous. You couldn’t help feeling like you weren’t Gerda but Kai, suddenly poisoned by the Devil, seeing flaws everywhere. It was so ironic you barely held back a snort.

“Nice Italian restaurant, not too crowded. The food was really good. Uhm… and yes, he was a gentleman, but… I didn’t come here to talk about my date, Steve,” you said, your stupid brain finally making the connection – or you hoped so.

It was jealously. Steve was jealous. Forget Bible, this was a goddamned revelation.

“Oh. Sorry,” he smiled hastily, nervous. “I didn’t mean to pry-“

You had no idea where the bravado came from, but you took his hand he kept closed in a fist in his lap to yours. It worked greatly; he shut up.

“Steve, I— okay, maybe I need to say it, because I feel like I’m always telling you everything and it would be weird if I suddenly didn’t, so-- uhm. Okay.”

He tilted his head curiously, looking utterly confused. But his body relaxed, the stiffness you could see ever since you had started talking about the date resolving. Well. You would both have to suffer through it once more. You cleared your throat.

“I had a great time with Matt. He… he walked me home and kissed me-“

Steve gave you a tiny smile, obviously trying very hard to be supportive friend slash brother and squeezing your hand gently.

“-and there was nothing. Just… nothing. It was… weird. Really weird. Not that he wasn’t a good kis-“

You covered your mouth with your fist to shut yourself up before more verbal vomit would come out. This was going terribly. Yet, Steve patiently sat opposite to you, listening to your non-sense, because he was a sweetheart.

Your sweetheart.

“Well. Let’s say we didn’t click. I— I’m not going out with him again. It was… embarrassing for both of us. But… what I’m trying to say is, that… that I’m really glad I went out with him, because… because it helped me realize something,” you explained slowly, finally getting on the right track.

For some reason, Steve looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Steve?” you addressed him, worried.

Seriously, he looked so spooked for a moment that it sent your heart racing; until he shook his head and moved a little closer to you, his free hand coming to caress your shoulder. You were utterly baffled by that development. Did he… did he do the math? Were you that obvious? Because so far you sounded to yourself like talking lots of crap.

“It’s okay, Snowflake,” he whispered with a reassuring smile. “You know you can tell me anything, right? You know I love you, nothing will change that.”

Your mouth fell open and you just stared at him wide-eyed and endlessly relieved. “Oh thank god,” you breathed, “I love you too, Steve.”

His smile looked a little broken now, but perhaps it was the weight of the confession. His palm cupped your cheek and your eyelashes fluttered at the sensation, just like your heart.

“I know I’m from the times that were less tolerant, but I would never look at you differently, Snowflake.”

His words made you freeze. Hold on a sec. “Steve-“

“It’s okay. So you… like women, that’s not-“

You slipped from his gentle hands, burying your face in your own, whining miserably. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening.”

You felt like you got punched to your stomach by Iron Man. Or by Steve’s shield to make it more ironic. Oh, this was not happening. Steve just told you he loved you, loved you despite being gay, while you finally admitted you loved him and you fucking thought he had confessed to loving you too.

“Someone just kill me, please,” you muttered, your hands immediately ripped away with not much grace.

“Don’t even think about it, this is not end of the-“

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” you snapped, startling him. His hands immediately went away, raised in a harmless gesture. “I’m not telling you I’m gay! I’m not trying to come out to you or tell you that I want to— to kill myself over it!”

Though now it seems to be a likeable option.

He blinked in shock; his lips parted. He looked so fucking cute you just wanted to kiss the confusion away – which would be pretty self-explanatory, but maybe a bit harsh.

“So… what are you saying?”

“I’m pretty comfortable with my heterosexuality, thank you very much, but it’s good to know you’re tolerant, not that it’s surprising.”

“…okay?”

You took a deep breath, shaking your head with your eyes closed. You were going to say it. Right now. Everything. You didn’t have to look into his eyes while doing it, right? Instead, you played with your fingers in your lap, watching the digits meeting and parting again.

“What I’m saying is that when I thought you were gonna die, it was the scariest thing I ever felt,” you whispered, his sharp inhale too loud in the room. “That every time you show up in that uniform of yours, my heart is going crazy and it’s not just because I’m afraid of what will happen on the mission – I’m positive, because my pulse is doing the exactly same thing when you just walk around in one of your stupid blue shirts or white t-shirts, because seriously, I’m pretty sure that you wearing those should be illegal.”

You checked his expression quickly, but he seemed absolutely stunned. Well, at least he wasn’t running away yet; though this was his room, he had nowhere to run.  You lowered your gaze again.

“I’m saying that every time I’m falling asleep in your arms during a movie night, all I want is to wake up in them too. When we’re training and you… somehow end up on top of me, I wish for you to stay there a little longer. Every time you look at me with those ridiculously pretty eyes of yours, I’m not sure whether I should snuggle you or… or…” Shit, I am such a coward. “I-“

His fingers found a way to your cheek once more, sliding under your chin, light pressure making you look up. You heart was pounding in your ears – you couldn’t remember being scared like this, ever. This was a different kind of fear, the deep kind you hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

“When I thought you wouldn’t make it…” he whispered, his gaze flickering across your face, looking as amazed as if he just found a relic. “It was the worst feeling I lived through since I crashed the plane into an icy ocean.”

Your breath hitched. Please, please, tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying.

“Every time you show up, I wish you were wearing your smile, because it’s like sunshine.”

His thumb traced your lips slowly, cautious, and you pressed a little daring kiss on the finger, praying you weren’t crossing a line. His own lips spread in the softest smile you’d ever seen and honestly, all you wanted to do was to taste that smile, your abdomen heating up at the idea.

“Whenever you’re falling asleep during a movie night… I wish I wouldn’t have to carry you to your room, but to mine instead, to keep you all night. When you happen to end up under me… I have to get up fast, because if I would stay a little longer…”

Alright, you were very distracted by where that thought would go, but holy sweet Jesus, Steve was really making a love confession and you couldn’t believe this was happening. It physically hurt you not to pinch yourself or to touch the adorable blush that appeared on his cheeks at the last exclaim.

“And when you look at me – the way only you do, I can’t even describe it, it’s like I matter, me, my bare soul, just-- all I want is to kiss you.”

You were positive you just changed into a puddle of love-sick jello. Definitely. You were absolutely putty and it took too much effort to ask him one simple question that burned on your tongue. You made sure to look into his eyes when asking it, the unknown feeling rushing through your veins, plucking up your courage,

“Then why don’t you?” you whispered, rewarded by his orbits lighting up, his smile widening. His gaze flickered to your lips and back.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just try.”

The distance of the few inches seemed infinite with how slowly he crossed it. But you were willing to wait for it, your eyes falling shut when his own got unbearably close and then finally his lips were there too.

For a fraction of second, your messy mind returned several nights back to a completely different kiss, the reason why it hadn’t felt right finally clicking into place. Because this was right. Steve’s lips gently pecking yours and retreating a little at instant, just to trace the texture with his thumb once more and drive the butterflies in your stomach crazier.

You met his gaze, drunk and a bit baffled. Why did he stop so soon? Was it bad?

“I wanted to do that for a very long time,” he breathed, his eyes burning with honesty and delight.

“Just that?”

“Considering that a slap could have come at this point-“

You raised your hand to his cheek and he must have seen it peripherally, because for the shortest moment, his eyes widened with horror. But you just laid your palm on his jaw, pulling him into another kiss, this time making sure it would last. Steve’s lips sunk into yours with more confidence, apparently not afraid of you slapping him anymore.

You let your fingers wander up his arm, heat coiling in your abdomen at the idea of that arm holding you down, drawing you close. It had happened before, but now you knew the meaning would be completely different and your toes curled at the thought. You sighed when he took your lower lip between his, sucking on it tenderly. Oh god, you couldn’t feel your own limbs now and the same arm you had caressed just a moment ago wrapped around your waist, indeed pulling you close, basically making you sit in his lap. Which was a little uncomfortable and straddling him wouldn’t, so you shifted in your position.

He sighed in appreciation at your thinking, the tip his tongue gently asking for a permission to go on. You let him in, the pool of warmth inside your body spreading just everywhere, always coming back to your lap.

You felt his fingers tighten in the fabric of your top, his lips leaving, his forehead resting against yours so you could both catch your breath. You massaged the back of his neck, unaware your hand had got there along the way.

“Can you open your beautiful eyes for me, Snowflake?” he pleaded lowly, his voice rougher than usual. With desire, you realized.

Your heart possibly stopped – had he always been saying the nickname with so much affection and you hadn’t noticed or did he finally let his feelings bubble into his voice now?

Your legs squeezed his hips tighter on instinct, drawing something between a chuckle and a whine from his lips. You obediently opened your eyes to meet his – this up close, you could see the subtle threads of green in the sea of blue.

Putting some distance between your faces, you couldn’t help but feast your eyes on him. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, his mouth almost bloodily red. Yet, his expression was one of awed, astonished even, and indescribably tender.

“I love you,” he said softly, his eyes locked with yours to add severity to his declaration, the words finally meaning what you always wanted them to mean.

“And I love you, Steve.”

His lips parted, his gaze suddenly hesitant. “You said I was family.”

“So did you,” you noted and he gave you a lopsided smile which was something you wanted to kiss away. But no, your stupid mouth needed to say something else. “And technically, husband and wife are family too-“

His pupils went comically wide and you realized what you just implied.

“Not that I’m thinking about marriage already! I meant— I just-- I wanted to-“ you stuttered and the beautiful creature that had you in its arms pressed its lips together before smiling brilliantly and shutting you up with another kiss. You were all for returning it before you could say something even more stupid like wanting to have his kids that would inherit his blond hair and his beautiful eyes.

You wriggled in his lap instead, earning a startled and very pleased sound from him, granting you access to his mouth, your tongues meeting. He pressed you against his broad chest in response, his hand moving a bit lower, running down your lower back and heading sideways; you were sure you were about to have a heart attack when he cupped your lower left cheek and you couldn’t think of a better way to go from this world.

“Steve,” you breathed to his mouth, rewarded by his grip tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. Oh Jesus.

There was no better response than slipping your daring hand under his t-shirt on his back, feeling the muscles shifting as he kept pressing you closer. God, this man might have been an artist, but he himself was a work of art.

“Miss Anderson, Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff is asking me about how your conversation went,” JARVIS announced smoothly, sending you into a cardiac arrest and causing you to bit into Steve’s lips at the fright. “What shall I tell her?”

Steve shot you a puzzled look, licking on his wounded lip and you whimpered miserably, letting your forehead fall on his shoulder.

“Thanks, J. You can tell her that if she keeps interrupting like that, we definitely will keep it quiet tonight,” you whined and JARVIS, the friend he was, just said he would tell her exactly that.

You honestly didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry. What if Steve got mad now?

“Natasha?” he asked quietly and you just whined louder before facing him.

“Yes. She might have convinced me to crawl from the hole of my room and misery and admit how I feel about you.”

“Really? That’s… oh. She actually tried to convince me too,” he admitted tentatively and you shrieked, having a pretty accurate idea of how that had gone. “What is it?”

“She might have… used some… pretty solid evidence to… encourage me.” Steve’s eyebrows shot up in silent question, worry darkening his features. “A recording… of your conversation few nights back from the kitchen and-”

“Son of a-“

You looked at him, shocked, but he stopped himself before the actual curse left his mouth. His face was… priceless. Also, his lip seemed just fine, so you hadn’t hurt him that bad. Good.

“I honestly don’t know if I want to kill her or hug her,” he noted, making you grin. He wasn’t mad. Just… taken back, which was an appropriate reaction.

“Well. We are here, right? Together?” Steve’s arm tightened around you on instinct. “So maybe we should rather send her a fruit basket or something?”

Steve’s face lighted up with a mischievous smile, a spark of something appearing in his eyes. Ah-oh. His lips moved to your ear, the touch and his low voice making you shiver.

“Or maybe we should buy her some earplugs… for when we won’t keep it quiet.”

You dug your fingers into the skin of his back, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. Now that was a whole new side of the mischievous Steve you just glimpsed. Jesus. You did not see that coming and you sure as hell didn’t expect the heat pooling in your lower abdomen at that note being set on fire.

His hands framed your face, forcing you to look at him. He suddenly seemed anxious.

“Too much? I didn’t mean tonight! I don’t want to rush it, I’m perfectly fine with just keeping you for tonight, or— or not-“

You couldn’t believe that this guy honestly loved you, but somehow, it made sense. His sudden fright of crossing a line was adorable and the honesty in his words was something to cherish. He truly didn’t want to rush, willing to wait for you. He had a practice in that, after all. And so did you.

A little more waiting was fine with you, but you weren’t about to leave him thinking he spooked you or something. Oh no. You hoped he would live up to that suggestion. Possibly soon.

“Steve? Shut up and kiss me.”

A beautiful grin spread on his lips. “Yes, madam.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

Daredevil was on his nightly patrol, listening in for any disturbance of the relatively calm night when the air shifted, the temperature dropping suddenly. He couldn’t tell the precise figure, but it was close to freezing point now.

He thought of you immediately. Did something-

A snowflake fell on his lips, melting the very same moment it made contact. His breath caught in his throat. Almost soundlessly, other snowflakes fell, one after another, a symphony, the softest lullaby. It didn’t sound like crying; it sounded like happiness, the sounds lighting up the city, making his heart melt as well.

He smiled melancholically. Something did happen; you finally found love.

────── ·❆· ──────  

Natasha poured herself another glass of wine, sitting down on the couch, which was where Clint found her few minutes later.

“Ladies’ night?” he teased and the Russian just grinned at him.

“You’re paying up, brat moy.”

Clint’s eyes widened when he realized what she was implying. “You’re joking.”

“JARVIS, replay what our special snowflake asked you to tell me.”

Your voice filled the common room, while Natasha just extended her hand in Barton’s direction. He pressed a twenty into her hand with no further protest.

“What’s the gathering here? Oh, money? I’m interested,” Tony hummed, stopping in his tracks and taking several steps backwards to the couch to find out what that was about.

“Nah, Barton’s just paying up for a bet we made ages ago.”

“Really? About?”

“JARVIS? Could you-“ Natasha just started and the record played again.

“Son of a bitch, I think the hell just froze over – which would actually explain the early snow. How did that finally happen?” Tony asked, astonished.

“I’m afraid Agent Romanoff is quite a matchmaker, sir.”

Tony eyed the spy warily. “Dangerous woman. But you know it’s on you to buy us all earplugs now, right?”

“You think she’s a screamer? Or he is?”

“Ugh, I’m leaving,” Natasha exclaimed at Clint’s question, quickly jumping to her feet. She so didn’t need to be here for that. She still heard them as she was leaving.

“Dunno. I have a better question. How long until Rogers breaks a bed?”

She rolled her eyes and turned her glass bottoms up.

In the end, Stark won with his guess of five days, while Barton lost with his fifteen and Bruce with his guess of twenty, both losers naively hoping Steve would be more old-fashioned.

It took them six days to sleep together judging by the thin white frost with beautiful ornaments covering all windows of the Tower the seventh morning. The eighth night they broke a bed; and it happened at three a.m. Natasha swore she was never playing matchmaker again.

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek

────── ·❆· ──────

Steve Rogers masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

There we go! It’s done! Thank you for reading :)

If you’re interested in further story, stay tuned for Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold... and if you want to stay tagged for it/get tagged, shoot me an ask or something :-*

[etirabys]

I said in my previous It post that the book has bad scaffolding but good substance built on it. The below excerpts are about ~11 year old Bill Denbrough talking to his friend about his guilt about his younger brother, who died while racing a paper boat Bill made for him in the rain. Bill’s parents totally fall apart after the murder and start neglecting the child they have left:

In those days his mom and dad had also been bookends on the couch, but he and George had been the books. Bill had tried to be a book between them while they were watching TV since George’s death, but it was cold work. They sent the cold out from both directions and Bill’s defroster was simply not big enough to cope with it. He had to leave because that kind of cold always froze his cheeks and made his eyes water.

And, when he enters into the monsterhunting & monsterhunted portion proper of his summer, he confesses to his friend that he’s afraid the malevolent entity that’s been haunting him is (in part) his dead brother’s ghost: 

“But you said you were scared. Why would George’s ghost want to scare you, Bill?”

Bill put a hand to his mouth and wiped it. The hand was trembling slightly. “H-He’s probably muh-muh-mad at m-m-me. For g-getting him kih-hilled. It was my fuh-fuh-fault. I s-sent him out with the buh-buh-buh—” He was incapable of getting the word out, so he rocked his hand in the air instead. Richie nodded to show he understood what Bill meant . . . but not to indicate agreement.

“I don’t think so,” he said. “If you stabbed him in the back or shot him, that would be different. Or even if you, like, gave him a loaded gun that belonged to your dad to play with and he shot himself with it. But it wasn’t a gun, it was just a boat. You didn’t want to hurt him; in fact”—Richie raised one finger and waggled it at Bill in a lawyerly way—“you just wanted the kid to have a little fun, right?”

Bill thought back—thought desperately hard. What Richie had just said had made him feel better about George’s death for the first time in months, but there was a part of him which insisted with quiet firmness that he was not supposed to feel better. Of course it was your fault, that part of him insisted; not entirely, maybe, but at least partly.

If not, how come there’s that cold place on the couch between your mother and father? If not, how come no one ever says anything at the supper table anymore? Now it’s just knives and forks rattling until you can’t take it anymore and ask if you can be eh-eh-eh-excused, please.

It was as if he were the ghost, a presence that spoke and moved but was not quite heard or seen, a thing vaguely sensed but still not accepted as real.

He did not like the thought that he was to blame, but the only alternative he could think of to explain their behavior was much worse: that all the love and attention his parents had given him before had somehow been the result of George’s presence, and with George gone there was nothing for him... and all of that had happened at random, for no reason at all. And if you put your ear to that door, you could hear the winds of madness blowing outside.

I love this passage. It’s so – kind, and psychologically astute. Bill’s home situation right now is so shitty! It’s fucked him up in such a meaty, believable way! And the next part, when he figures out and accepts it wasn’t his fault, has this amazing blend of their-particular-culture preteen boy friendship where they’re kind and supportive, but with the counterweight of fear about being vulnerable and emotional, with the overlay of being silly eleven years olds

The boat had killed George, but Richie was right—it hadn’t been like handing George a loaded gun to play with. Bill hadn’t known what was going to happen. No way he could.

He drew a deep, shuddering breath, feeling something like a rock—something he hadn’t even known was there—go rolling off his chest. All at once he felt better, better about everything.

He opened his mouth to tell Richie this and burst into tears instead.

Alarmed, Richie put an arm around Bill’s shoulders (after taking a quick glance around to make sure no one who might mistake them for a couple of fagolas was looking).

“You’re okay,” he said. “You’re okay, Billy, right? Come on. Turn off the waterworks.”

“I didn’t wuh-wuh-want h-him t-to g-g-get kuh-hilled!” Bill sobbed. “TH-THAT WUH-WUH-WASN’T ON MY M-M-M-MIND AT UH-UH-ALL!”

“Christ, Billy, I know it wasn’t,” Richie said. “If you’d wanted to scrub him, you woulda pushed him downstairs or something.” Richie patted Bill’s shoulder clumsily and gave him a hard little hug before letting go. “Come on, quit bawlin, okay? You sound like a baby.”

Little by little Bill stopped. He still hurt, but this hurt seemed cleaner, as if he had cut himself open and taken out something that was rotting inside him. And that feeling of relief was still there.

“I-I didn’t w-want him to get kuh-kuh-killed,” Bill repeated, “and ih-if y-y-you t-tell anybody I w-was c-cryin, I’ll b-b-bust your n-n-nose.”

“I won’t tell,” Richie said, “don’t worry. He was your brother, for gosh sake. If my brother got killed, I’d cry my fucking head off.”

“Yuh-Yuh-You d-don’t have a buh-brother.”

“Yeah, but if I did.”

“Y-You w-w-would?”

“Course.” Richie paused, fixing Bill with a wary eye, trying to decide if Bill was really over it. He was still wiping his red eyes with his snotrag, but Richie decided he probably was. “All I meant was that I don’t know why George would want to haunt you. So maybe the picture’s god something to do with... well, with that other. The clown.”

“Muh-Muh-Maybe G-G-George d-d-doesn’t nuh-nuh-know. Maybe h-he th-thinks –”

Richie understood what Bill was trying to say and waved it aside. “After you croak you know everything people every thought about you, Big Bill.” He spoke with the indulgent air of a great teacher correcting a country bumpkin’s fatuous ideas. “It’s in the Bible.”

[lizzybeth1986]

Very Slow Thoughts on TRH Book 1 Chapter 8

• This chapter is meh. It's basically a full chapter of the writers taking the Walker ranch portion of the story, and stretching it like chewing gum at this point. I was pretty much sleepwalking through this one tbh.

• The only interesting bit in this was the Drake childhood scene, but because the initial scenes will always be slight buildup to the actual meat of the backstory - rather than the story itself - its placement in a chapter as dull as this one doesn't exactly do it any favours.

• To avoid seeing these posts on your dash, you can block the following tags: #trh quick thoughts, #trh qts, #trh qt reblogs, #long post

• Screenshot Credits:

Drake: @thefirstcourtesan and the HIMEME YouTube channel

Hana: The Abhirio YouTube channel

I'm sorry I don't have any Maxwell screenshots this time around, since I couldn't find it on YouTube, and I wasn't able to ask permission for screenshots on time. As soon as a video of his route is up on YouTube, I'll try adding the collages with his screenshots up. But I do have a tiny gist of what happens in certain portions of his playthrough, thanks to Tumblr, so I'll put those up as quotes.

• Title: Ride Like The Wind

Alternate Title: There Are Other Things My MC Could Be Riding...But Okay

• We begin with the sisters (yeah Leona and Bianca are back to being sisters now), worrying over how they'll get their cattle to the upcoming auction on time since every ranch hand they'd reached out for help pretty much declined.

• Not only is stubbornness a family trait, but so is the tendency to judge people at face value (I'm looking at you, Leona).

• There are a bunch of parallels between the Walker Ranch situation and the Beaumont house one in Book 1: both for the Regatta and the Beaumont Bash. Only difference is, the writers won't bother to expand much on Beaumont History but throw around every minute detail they can imagine for Drake's family (IIRC, even the mystery in Beaumont House in Book 1 was mostly Savannah related).

• Even in moments of dire need, Leona HAS to slip in snide remarks about people she barely knows.

Slight variation on the third option, if you're married to Drake. The other two highlight either the fact that the MC spent most of her life as a commoner and could think on her feet, and the second establishes that she has at least some riding experience. Leona pokes fun at you for both, but has the sense to not deliver much of her unwanted opinion for the third (besides stating they don't have much of a choice).

• The MC also highlights the benefit of bringing the others along: Hana and Liam have a lot of riding experience, Drake is 'capable' and 'outdoorsy' and for some reason Maxwell is known only for his enthusiasm (even though Beaumont House HAS horses and a stable and the Brothers Beaumont would have had SOME experience at the very least 🤷🏽‍♀ [Didn't the Beaumont Bash involve letting in a couple horses into the house? I doubt those horses would even be there if those two didn't know how to ride and manage them]).

Hands down my favourite line in this chapter (Liam's king voice one comes a close second). I really love this because in stories like TRR/D&D, there's always that divide between nobility vs commoner, aesthetics vs utility...and in dialogues like these you can really see that difference. It reminds me a little of one of my favourite scenes from D&D Book 1, where Briar looks at the MC's embroidery and wonders aloud how a pretty piece like this would be of any use to anyone.

• The suede is fine but there's too much going on with the rest of the outfit for me to really admire it. Our LIs obviously don't agree with me:

Drake and Liam have the same dialogue, Hana and Maxwell have different ones. (in Maxwell's he tells her he is ready to "serenade my amazingly dressed, darlin' wife").

• Everyone gets their horses (Bianca gives King Liam a gentler horse so she doesn't end up indirectly harming a king, and Leona gives Bertrand a rough horse on purpose. Because Bertrand has to be on his best behaviour he agrees despite his initial fears).

• Hmm. Chuck finds out about the lack of help via a rumour. Hmmmm. Bertrand gets as skittish as his horse until the MC and Bianca remind him that they might as well take all the help they need.

• So the task is to ensure that the group reaches the big fair on time (or before) so that the sisters have enough time to prepare for their auction. Since they're short of staff and have a lot of cattle, every minute counts.

• There are roughly 3 tests that can ensure we get there on time if we pass:

- help move a group of stubborn cows from the six dozen we're taking to the auction (you can either say giddyup or scream out silly idioms that they won't understand). If you don't say giddyup, Drake will say it for you.

- Move the herd of cows away from a mud patch on the way. Drake suggests a move he and Savannah used to do as kids called The Cyclone, where 1-2 people get in the way of the herd and the riders come from another side to steer them away. This ensures that they get the cows away from the mud patch. This one is the most time-sensitive of the three, because if we fail this one a lot of time gets spent in getting the cows that fell into the mud patch out of the muck and onto the path again.

- Get a cow wandering through the stream out of it safely using a lasso. The problem arises when the cow starts fidgeting while you're taking them back. Here is where your suede outfit has an advantage, because if you choose "grip the pommel with your hands" and almost fall off the horse, the sturdy outfit will ensure you're safe.

-

All of this results either in you getting the cattle to the auction way before time with an hour to spare, or so late that they reach after the auction itself has begun. In the second option, Leona is nervous about their chances but Bianca insists that they did better than they could have done alone.

• Some stuff that you learn/that happens on the way:

- Chuck calls Leona Miss Walker, so is Walker really Bianca's surname rather than Jackson's? Jackson is also referred to as Jackson Walker. So whose nickname was it initially?

- Wild West Nicknames:

* Maxwell can either be Mad Maxwell or Maxwell 'Calamity' Beaumont. Both nicknames from the MC speak of his tendency to veer towards chaos, or his boundless energy.

* Liam is simply called King Liam because PB is fucking lazy.

* Drake is called The Lone Ranger by Hana, and Hana is called Lucky Lee by Drake.

* The MC can choose her nickname - Cow Boss, Jewel of the Prairie and Wild [Surname]. The second is a nice callback to both one of Valtoria's House mottos (Jewel of the Earth) and a name that Maxwell gives to a caviar dish for the Beaumont Bash (Jewels of the Sea). Personally I think the second one is a better parallel since the Beaumont House situation was already a precursor to what is going on with the Walker Ranch.

-

Well yes Liam, on people.

That aside...Jesus Christ is this man adorable.

- Alright, so much as I can't stand Leona? At least she has a legitimate ax to grind with Cordonian monarchy. Why the hell is CHUCK being like her and acting all condescending?? The closest thing to a 'noble' he's been around was Savannah and they barely even had anything together if we go by what Savannah says. What is he, the shit stirrer of Walker Ranch?

-

I have two points to make about this:

1. Constantine...is a fucking asshole. Most of us knew that. I think TRH just seems to be expanding more on that.

2. Sooo...exactly what was Constantine like before the Nevrakis ppl did what they did coz at this point he sounds like an utter failure in every way imaginable. His wife seems to have serious issues with him at this point, he's too busy fighting to spend any time with his kids (well. at least the one the writers remember), has neglected his friend Hakim, doesn't have good political relations with anyone, screws over the King Guard who he gave a Guardian of the Realm honour to earlier, for saving his life...after the man has died.

3. Leona pretty much doesn't seem to care about anything else besides the money Bianca could have been bringing in. It's the main thing she mentions when we first meet her, and it's the front and center of what she's telling us now. What Bianca was going through, the fact that her kids were left behind in an environment that was seemingly not a good one for them - she hasn't mentioned this so far in any of her more obvious complaints towards the nobility. I mean, is that the first thing you think about when your sister returns to her maternal home after such a devastating tragedy? Really??

4. The other funny thing is...she complains about not getting compensation from the royalty yet forgets that for a whole year or more when Bianca and Leona were not there for her (not their fault obviously, since she likely never told them)...it was a noble family's money that supported Savannah and Bartie. The money of the same Bertrand Leona is now enjoying lording over. I guess she would only know this if she were actually giving her sister's children the time of day, and I have hardly seen her do so, so far.

• Once we reach the fair and the sisters have moved forward to where the auction is happening, we are allowed to check out the rest of the fair. Cue diamond scene!

• I kinda think of this as a Group-LI kind of diamond scene - one where you spend time with the characters, but not separately. In a usual group scene they interact and do stuff together before you get time alone with them, but here, the group interactions are minimal and you get time with each LI in different situations. If you are married to said LI, the dialogues are obviously more romantic.

Drake: Opts for bull riding. He's shocked at the number of waivers he has to sign before participating, has a tough time atop the bull BUT manages to stay on longer than the rest. The rest of the group cheers him on as he comes out victorious, and the MC can either be baffled at his daring, or try it out herself.

The MC who is Drake's wife can opt to kiss him just before he participates and tell him to be safe.

Maxwell: Asks us to join in a tandem pie eating competition with him. The MC and Maxwell can either easily win, or be disqualified for starting a pie fight. Either way, the experience is a blast.

As Maxwell's wife, you get to kiss him after you've won/gotten disqualified, and tell him how his ability to make you laugh and have fun is exactly why your marriage is so amazing. (as Maxwell puts it: "never a dull day and more pie eating contests than you'd expect").

Hana: Has found a dressage-trained horse, and is happily getting the horse to do a perfect figure-eight. What follows is a heartfelt conversation about what home means to her, all the possibilities she can now freely explore, and the changes she has experienced. You can either tell her about her tendency to be competitive (something she apparently did not know herself...uh, yeah, sure), or her love and loyalty towards her friends.

As Hana's wife, you can kiss her, tell her you're falling more and more in love with her each day, and Hana gets to tell you that for her, home is where you are.

Liam: Has learned how to make a lasso from a local at the fair. He speaks of how places like these make him feel like he perhaps may understand his own people better, even if these activities are not what the court would expect or approve of from a king. He can show a few rope tricks to the MC, like catching a chair with a lasso, or be 'captured' by the MC.

As Liam's wife, there's the opportunity to flirt either by using the lasso on Liam, or asking him to tie you up.

• Savannah gives an update from Bertrand on how the cattle drive has gone, and Drake brings along some Texas barbeque. The group love it, but the MC finds it a little too much on the spicier side (bold of you, team TRH, to think I can't handle the seasoning in Texas when I have numbed my tongue on bird's-eye chilis!).

• Gah. The paps again. But this time, we're prepared and able to put a positive spin on our trip to Texas (this is either a romantic getaway to ensure we conceive a child, supporting a local business, attending the wedding of a noble) and the paparazzo runs with it. Chuck comes to our 'rescue' a minute later and Savannah is very appreciative.

• Tensions continue brewing beneath the surface between Bertrand and Chuck. Chuck tries to bond with Bartie, who is naturally a friendly child, and Bertrand isn't able to hide how he feels about this. You get to either deflect the situation by telling Bertrand to show Bartie how a "Beaumont high-five" works, or by telling Chuck not to cut into Bartie's animal petting time.

• Savannah complains. Only improvement is that at least this time she mentions that she's spoken to Bertrand and even then he feels he has something to prove (gee, Savannah, I wonder why. It's not like your AUNT has anything to do with that, for sure!)

• "Whatever's going on with Bertrand, I hope he figures it out before our wedding". 'Because I sure as hell don't care', Savannah forgot to add. Like...the root of his current insecurities is right in front of her. Right in her family. Leona has been rubbing it in that he is a 'useless noble' ever since he's been here (even giving him a skittish horse on purpose) and not once has Savannah ever said a thing - either in front of Bertrand, or secretly to us in all the times she's been complaining about him. That's a...surprisingly cavalier attitude for someone getting married to this guy in a couple days.

• Seeing Bertrand, Savannah and Bartie as a family leads the MC and LI to talk about their own search for a family. Nowadays I generally tap over a scene like this because I personally find the MC having the option to be upset and sorry for herself about not being pregnant, a little annoying. I wouldn't under normal circumstances, considering what this book is about (in fact I would be quite happy) - but I think I'm allowed to feel sore over the fact that the MC unfairly gets the space to feel about this the way others can't. So yeah, for me scenes like these are not worth talking about.

• We're back at the ranch, where the group laughs and reminisces over the last trip some of them (Liam, Drake, Savannah) took to the ranch, and the strongest memory we here about is of Jackson, Drake's father who was once Constantine and Eleanor's security detail.

• In our second childhood diamond scene, we are taken back to their last visit to the ranch, where a rather unwell Eleanor is protected by Jackson, and where the children witness a fight between the king and queen. Drake and Jackson have a conversation in the stables later, where the father evades questions about Constantine and Eleanor from a very worried son, and instead chooses to ask him questions about his future. Here are the things I could glean from the scenes:

- Bianca doesn't get a younger sprite here even though she is present in the scene, and there's a chance that they're maybe saving that for a flashback scene for her (?)

- Eleanor's meant to appear unwell, tired and very unlike herself in this sequence - and even if we've just met her it's quite clear that something is off with her. She is shown looking weary a couple of times, and Jackson says "easy does it" at one point. She shows a lot more frustration towards Constantine than in the last scene, calling him out for his paranoia and asking him if his questions (about her wanting an alliance with Auvernal) are an order from the king rather than a request from her husband. Even Constantine points out that she is not herself.

- Other than Auvernal being her maternal home, what else do we know about her connections there? (besides that telling quote by Bradshaw about Eleanor always graciously welcoming them - which interestingly seems to leave out Constantine). I feel like the upcoming trip there next chapter is going to give us an insight into that.

- There is a heavy emphasis on Liam and Drake's friendship, and Drake's feeling of 'responsibility' towards Liam...which I think is kind of a pointer to the whole question of him returning to court after the assassination and staying with Liam when they're older. Even his conversation with Jackson has the latter mentioning that he would be of the most help if he keeps Liam and his parents happy during their time in the ranch.

- The ending itself shows a significant shift from Drake's attitude towards Liam in the first half (playful, friendly, wants Liam to be safe around his mother's home) to the last (protective, determined to cheer Liam up and more reflective). This scene is clearly a Drake scene through and through and the approach is very different from the first set of childhood scenes. This might be how childhood solo scenes will be dealt with from now on.

- Jackson also mentions not being able to speak openly about the problems between Constantine and Eleanor, and Liam tells us later on that he was kind of a confidant to both of them. Jackson also mentions in the stable scenes that he is responsible for keeping them alive but not for their personal problems. The perfect King Guard. Constantine is an ass for denying his family compensation (but also I wonder if there is more to that story the way they frame it. I hope they don't try to force another of those "it was for the good of Cordoniaaaaa" excuses the writers always keep ready for Constantine.

- If Olivia was so suspicious, why were they leaving her behind?

- There are significant differences between the Drake playthrough and other playthroughs in terms of certain scenes. One lies in the options little Drake can make with regards to his future. The third options in both playthroughs show indicators of his future. If present-day Drake is single in your playthrough, it will focus on his desire for a simpler life. If he is married now, then the flashback will include this:

The other two options are Drake speaking about wanting to be a King Guard like his dad, and wanting to stay Liam's best friend. The King Guard thing obviously doesn't happen, the second one happens because Liam almost died. The third one is more clearly a pointer to Drake's future.

- Another significant variation if you are married to Drake is that you have a conversation with him after the scene is over, about his thoughts on his child becoming an heir to the throne:

Reminds me of the conversation we had at the American bar. On the one hand, I like this because as an outsider in the court and someone close to the security detail at the time, he would think of Liam's life very differently. Kids are impressionable, and ostentatious shows of wealth in front of a kid who cannot afford that much can definitely sting.

- Hmm. Hmm. So Liam's sacrifices only become important to Drake when his own kid might face the same challenges? Until then he will yap about how much luckier Liam is and how everything revolves around Liam? How girls were after Liam and not him (yet the one girl who did like him, he eventually treated like trash)? How he thought of Liam as "leading the MC on" by spending time with her when they first met/during the social season? (that's an actual dialogue he says, in Book 3 Chapter 16). Added to this is the fact that Drake stayed in the palace for free, as Liam's friend, and hardly had to do much (he freely roams around the cities Liam has to visit for diplomatic reasons, he can opt out of court events when he wants, he doesn't even have to dress the way others do - even the MC that doesn't buy outfits has to wear a gown that represents her sponsors/duchy for official events). Now when it's convenient for Drake he chooses to think about the flip side? When that flip side should have been the most obvious to him, the Prince/King's best friend??

• The setup for the next chapter comes in the form of a letter from Auvernal, asking the MC to meet them. Well. It's not Texas, so I'll take it.

General Thoughts:

- I don't have a lot to say about this chapter. There's not much really. It's boring and bland and even the nice Drake childhood scene at the end can't save it.

- Bianca's little line about not wanting to harm a King on her ranch...I feel like part of it may be concern because Liam was after all her son's best friend, and part of it may be wariness because of Constantine? But a lot of this is definitely me reading too much into this one little line 😅

- It does have some decent callbacks though:

* Team TRH FINALLY remembers that Hana has done dressage, which was shown to us as far back as TRR Book 1 Chapter 13. Brava!

* The whole premise of a family struggling with money problems and us offering help and getting the job done, is very reminiscent of the pre-Beaumont Bash sequences where we were scrambling together appetizers, helping with cleaning and setting up the ballroom for the big event. It's kind of ironic because the Beaumonts were in this position once, and now at least 3 books later they are involved in helping the sisters get the cattle drive going.

* The pie fight in Maxwell's section of the diamond scene has some similarities to the food fight in the fondue party scene in Book 2.

* Hana's response to eating barbeque strongly resembles how she approaches eating sloppy joes in Book 1, at the beach party. Back there, she is nervous about sampling the food because it is messy, and here she initially asks about utensils to eat it with, to which Maxwell says "you have ten of them!" referring to her fingers.

* The Jewel nickname for the MC, which we've seen versions of before in Book 1 and Book 3.

* A lighter version of the MC-Drake conversation in the Drake x MC playthrough can be found in the American bar scene in Book 1, where he speaks about how his parents always tried to get him things for his birthday but Liam's parents always went many steps ahead simply because they could afford it.

* Drake being called the Lone Wolf by Hana, which was something the MC could opt to dub herself in her interview at the Derby in Book 1? (a bit of a stretch I know but I'm having fun with this okay 😂)

- Could a kind anon (or not-anon) tell me if there is a reference behind 'Lucky Lee'? In fact behind all the names except maybe the Lone Wolf one for Drake. I couldn't find any hehehe.

- Now that we're going to Auvernal, I think we'll find (paywalled) clues there that might tell us more about Eleanor. Those clues about her changed behaviour and physical condition must have been placed exactly here for a reason.

- Usually Chapters 9 or 10 have been chapters that dealt with some aspect of Constantine and his family (his abdication + news of his impending death in Book 1, discovery of his involvement in the conspiracy in Book 2, and his death in Book 3). So now would be the perfect time to discover the truth about Eleanor and her relationship with Constantine, and what was troubling her.

- One theory I have is that Eleanor's being slow-poisoned, and these may be symptoms of what she is having. @thefirstcourtesan mentioned that pregnancy could be a reason too, and it would be another connecting factor with the MC. One thing that I do feel a little certain about is that this trip to Texas may have been a little while before she died.

- How is it that the narrative has absolutely no memory of the fact that Leo was once heir to the throne? I can imagine him not being very close to Liam-Drake-Maxwell or being a teenager who didn't want to be around his father (esp if that father is acting the way Constantine does in these scenes)...but not even a reference? A mention? You have the time to draw an entire sprite of little Savannah who pretty much has very little to do with this part of the story (or any part of the overall story) but Leo isn't even mentioned? Sounds a little fishy to me.

- I possibly wouldn't have minded Savannah's complaining and lack of proactiveness with the Bertrand situation, if their entire storyline didn't revolve around her being this "perfect angel" Bertrand has to be worthy of, and Bertrand's mistakes repeatedly being pulled up while Savannah doesn't have to answer much for the occasions where she is irrational or hasn't made good decisions. What we're seeing now is just an extension of this particular storyline.

- You can tell that the original epilogue series was meant to revolve around the Walker Ranch coz whatever we're seeing here is probably way way more than we have seen of Cordonia so far. There are frantic attempts to tie this to the overall plotline, but within the larger picture it makes very little sense.

Like I hate the paparazzi in the series and even then I found myself agreeing when he pointed out that it was weird that half the Royal Council was roaming around Texas.

- Speaking of the Council I wonder what the other court ladies were doing while we were at the fair. Sleeping off those hangovers?

- There could be other childhood/flashback scenes coming up. We will need an adult perspective, so Bianca might get one. Olivia needs to be seen as important and relevant to the plot (plus Constantine was shitty to her too), so she will get one.

- I wonder why Bastien had such a loyalty and attachment to Queen Eleanor (as stated in Book 2 by Regina) if he actually wasn't that close to the royal couple then (Jackson seems to fulfill that role here). I'm pretty sure they're probably going to ignore/forget that little detail.

- Will Hana and Maxwell get flashback scenes? They should, and there are ways you could incorporate that even if they weren't involved as much. Maxwell's could (FINALLY) focus on what happened to his family fortunes and you could slip in a little something about the palace there. Hana's could focus on her family and also have Lorelai catch up on Cordonian news/talk to her Cordonian relatives. Liam needs a solo scene of his own too, because after this I'm pretty sure his life takes a turn for the worse. If Hana and Maxwell (but esp Hana) don't get one...that's going to be extremely disheartening because they deserve way more attention than what they're getting now. I'm sincerely hoping we see more of their childhood memories too.

- You know what I'm REALLY looking forward to? Writing TRR 1's Chapter 8 QT. I'm very fond of that chapter and have a whole bunch of points to make about it 😀

- Until the next chapter, everyone!

[hitchell-mope]

(Third movie. The ember incident)

(On the Jolly Roger. Harriet melts out of the shadows. Falls face first on the floor. She gets up. Grabs a fire poker. And immediately starts attacking everything in sight)

Harriet: I HATE THEM. I HATE THEM ALL. I WANT NOTHING MORE THEN TO GRAB THEM AND GRIND THEIR FACES INTO POISONOUS CORAL. AAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH

(CJ has been patiently watching her sisters tirade, while silently judging her, and is now ready to say her piece)

CJ: drink?

Harriet: port if we have it

CJ: coming right up

Harriet: what’ve you been reading. A brine bloated Bronte?

CJ: a sea soaked Shelley actually

Harriet: the light is terrible in here. You should at least read out on the deck if not at the shadow man’s

CJ: you know I could but I don’t want to.

Harriet: fair is fair.

CJ: so. I take it the little convo didn’t work out?

Harriet: that little witch girl got to me before I could slay the dragon

CJ: and how would that have worked out for you? The king has magic. Then there’s her sister. And the genie. And the kid. And the specky little four eyed weirdo. Who all love her for some reason.

Harriet: because they don’t know what she is.

CJ: the daughter of Maleficent

(Harriet gives her a withering look)

CJ: ohhhh the other thing

Harriet: yes the other thing (she takes a swig of port) if they knew. About the both of them. They would never be welcome. Then the kingdom would be Harry’s for the taking

CJ: we have to tell him first

Harriet: if we ever see him again

CJ: they both knew what would happen if they hypnotised the prince. It’s twue wuv after all

Harriet: uuuurrrrgggghhhh! Gimme a Legume any day.

CJ: why?

Harriet: Deaux is 6”5 and built like a cement lavatory. You do the math

CJ: yeah. Still can’t see it.

Harriet: for that I blame Gothel

CJ: in her day mother Gothel was a very handsome woman

Harriet: if you say so. But now she’s old haggard and constantly whinging about a German lettuce.

CJ: I would also like the German lettuce. Gaddammit. Why are all the good women either too old, straight, prefer my brother or hate my guts.

Harriet: because there’s about fifty mothers here, with as many children on this slag heap there’s bound to be hetero’s, they think they can “fix” him even though he doesn’t need fixing and those people are idiots who will one day be felled by our blades

(A dustished but very old man hobbles down to the galley)

CJ: hey uncle Starkey

Starkey: good afternoon girls. Have you see your father today

Harriet: with luck he swallowed his own tongue during the night

Starkey: Harriet

Harriet: fine. I’ll go check on the bastard

(Meanwhile at the arcade. Hades has arrived just as Mal and the others left

Facillier: and where exactly do you think you are going?

Hades (Jesse L Martin): the barrier. Iris. I have a present for her. Whew. That took a lot out of me

Facillier: if you teleported then you’d not be out of breath like a common mortal

Hades: I need to get this to her before she leaves. Engagement present

(He holds up the ember. Facillier blanches and grabs the gods arm)

Facillier: my daughter is in that limo. And I entrusted her safety to the future queen. Do you honestly think I’d let you endanger my daughter because of your frankly horrendously tardy sentiment

Hades: 🎶it can be her old new borrowed and blue🎶

Facillier: it will not recognise her. Either of them. It could kill them both.

Hades: Hadie said that as well.

Facillier: how drunk was the young one

Hades: something about reed root

Facillier: oh yeah. I gave it to him.

Hades: thank you for that by the way. Now he can argue.

Facillier: you’re welcome

Hades: just wait until you kid starts boozing

(Facillier stops smiling)

Hades: ta ta

(He teleports away in electric blue fire waving goodbye as he does so)

Facillier (hurriedly): no nononononono (sighs deeply and looks upwards) I know I did wrong. And I have more then made up for it. But you are testing me. And it is not appreciated. So please. One break. I have surely earned that much?

Tremaine: FACILLIER!

Facillier (under his breath): evidently not (with a fake smile on his face and faux joviality) Lady Tremaine. To what do I owe the pleasure

Tremaine: is it back yet.

Facillier: who

Tremaine: the flesh mass I pulled out of my daughter 13 years ago

Facillier (looking and sounding rightly horrified): you mean Dizzy

Tremaine: is that it’s name? Huh. I thought we left it unnamed

Facillier: of course. Wouldn’t want to give her the illusion that you care about her would you?

Tremaine: see. You get it.

(Facillier groans inwardly)

Tremaine: so. Where is she. Is she back yet. The salon needs cleaning.

Facillier: she is in Auradon. Where she has been for a year.

Tremaine: I assumed that folly would have fallen through ages ago

Facillier: in case you haven’t noticed there is a distinct lack of unhappy starving neglected and abused children milling about.

Tremaine: I know it’s sickening isn’t it.

Facillier: not really no. There’s only so much hades and myself can do. It’s good that they’re getting out of here. We deserve it.

Tremaine: I don’t believe I deserve this fate

Facillier: and that is exactly why you do. Anyway. Haven’t you got a grandson you torture?

Tremaine: Anastasia took Anthony away. Eight years ago. As far as I know he’s in flagrante with that Hadie person

Facillier: good for him.

Tremaine: people like him should be strung up. You can clean my salon. Won’t that be nice. Your people made a name for themselves working for my kind after all

Facillier: in a single breath you have displayed homophobia and racism. So no. Clean up your own mess you privileged bitch

(He teleports her away)

Vision!Celia: she has such a bad attitude

Facillier: it’s the privilege. Ruins people.

V!Celia: you raised Celia right. Well. Right as you could given circumstances

Facillier: now she’s safe

(From outside there’s a screeching noise)

Facillier: I spoke too soon

(In the limo)

Mal: don’t tell me you brought it with you?

Evie: of course I did

Ben: brought what?

Mal: my dear little sister is belabouring under the impression that she’s my wedding planner. Ben and I have been engaged to less than a day.

Evie: your point being?

Mal: my point being is. How long have you been working on this? Since cotillion?

Evie: no not cotillion. Coronation

Mal: my mistake. Gissa look then

Evie: no! With any luck you won’t have to until the final product

Mal: ahahaha. No. Give it here.

Evie: but Ben

Mal (pitting up a hand to silence her sister): Ben dear. Would you like to know what our wedding is going to look like?

Ben: yes please

Evie (sighing): fine

(She hands the binder to her sister who starts perusing it with Ben)

Mal: let’s see now.

Ben: oh dear oh dear dear dear dear dear

Evie: what now?

Mal: white dress? Really?

Evie: what’s wrong with white? It’s classic traditional pure innocent virg...(sees the “bitch please look at who you’re talking to” expressions bal are giving her and how much Mal is pressed up against Ben’s chest) ok I see where I went wrong. So what do you suggest.

Ben: purple green and black for Mal’s side

Mal: blue and yellow for Ben’s side

Evie: but the dresses

Mal: I have some ideas. Tell me Ben. What’s your favourite dress of mine.

Ben: uhhhh. Hmmmmm. The dress you had at cotillion after you turned into a dragon

Mal: great. We use that one then.

Evie: what about the feathers?

Mal: I’m not that fond of feathers.

Evie: yeah yeah yeah. Everyone’s aware of your stance on doves. What about swans.

Mal: love her. Should’ve killed Regina though. And her daughter in law is more my speed

Ben: so is the son. Well. The season seven one

Mal: why do you think I opened with daughter in law

Evie: how did this turn into a rundown of your collective fictional crushes.

Mal: would you rather we talk about Paul Rudd. Or Mark Ruffalo? Whichever you prefer is fine with us

Evie (going red in the face and squirming in her seat): ummmm.

Mal: I’m kidding sis. Swans are fine. But dye them black blue purple yellow and green. Mkay?

Evie: yeah fine whatever

Doug: JESUS CHRIST!!!!

(Everyone follows his gaze to the back window. A women is running to the archway sending others into a panic. She’s got a glowing jewel in her hand)

Doug: who is that

Vks (except Celia): I don’t know

Celia: it’s hades

Jay: what.

Celia: gods don’t have a fixed form Jay

Mal: c’mon

(They all get out of the limo. Except Celia who’s caught by Mal and given to Carlos who puts her back in the limo)

Celia: what the hell are you doing let me help

Mal: sorry kid. Your dad told me to look after you. And to do that you can’t be here. Carlos can you take her back to the school?

Carlos: sure thing

(He gets into the drivers seat and tears away leaving the others to face the god)

Mal: what do we do.

Evie: oh I think you know

Mal: oh. Heh heh. Right

(Her eyes glow bright emerald gree. Purple smoke surrounds her. When it clears she’s a dragon)

Jay: I’ll cover Mal. Ben and Evie you two go either side. Doug. Call the guys at home. Tell them to stop filming

Doug: why would they still be. Oh ok I heard it as I said. I’ll calm them

(In Auradon Carlos has just burst out of the limo)

Carlos: gran you gotta come with me right now. Gramma could you please take Celia and make sure she doesn’t off?

Elsa: what’s wrong?

Belle: why would Celia run off?

Celia: Hades is trying to escape the barrier.

Carlos: I didn’t want to tell them just yet kid

Celia: well it’s the truth

Belle: why is he trying to escape the barrier

Chad: who’s escaping the barrier

Celia: Don’t you have a girlfriend to disappoint

Chad: she’s at the bar

Celia: then go

Chad: I’d rather stay here

Carlos: FUCK OFF CHAD

Chad: well then

Belle: chad please

Chad: oh my god HAHAHAHA SHE GONNA DIE HAHAHAHAHA

(They all look towards the jumbo screen)

Carlos: oh this is not good

(At the barrier hades is being force choked by Ben, Jay and Evie which is making him flit between all four forms. The ember is blasting Mal in the heart. She’s screaming. Doug’s putting gloves on in case it goes south. It does. Mal manages to fly above the ember blast. Hades accidentally drops it. Once it hits the ground it’s blast concentrates on Ben, Jay and Evie. Mal turns back into a human too weak to maintain dragon form and falls. Doug catches her)

(In Auradon Chad’s still laughing)

Chad: look at your freak of a queen now people. So pathetic she can’t beat a god. One who crossdresses apparently

Leah (hobbling up to them): he is right. That girl will spell destruction for us all

Belle: why are you here Leah?

Elsa: more to the point. Why are you still alive

Audrey (rushing to them): I’m so sorry. I invited her so she can apologise to Mal and oh my god what’s happening

Celia: a god, who FYI is more powerful then a genie, dark fairy, sorceress and hybrid combined numbnuts, is trying to escape the barrier

Audrey: are they ok

Chad: who cares

Carlos, Celia, Belle, Elsa and Audrey: we care

Leah: I agree with chad. Perhaps if she dies my granddaughter can retain her rightful place on the throne then our plans will not have been for naught

Audrey: you know what Grammy? Why don’t you just piss of back to Auroria. Because you are not wanted here. Queen Elsa could you do the honours? Please?

Elsa: it would be my pleasure

(She teleports Leah away in a flurry of snow)

Carlos: where’d Celia go?

(In te gym Celia melts out from the shadow just in time to see dizzy and the twins cheering at Lonnie beating Gil in a sparring match)

Celia: what the hell are you doing. (Pointing to Gil) your brother (pointing to Dizzy) your mother (pointing to Lonnie) and the object of your lust are being targeted by an escaping god.

Lonnie: wait what? How did you I

Celia: I can read people alright. It’s not a. It’s not a good thing. Especially on the island. Anyway. Hades. Escaping. Friends. In trouble. Dizz’s asshole cousin. Running his mouth. Help. Or not

Gil: help. No question. We help however we can.

Celia: good. You two do something about the stench. Dizzy the twins and I will go back outside come on guys

(She melts back into shadow along with the others. At the barrier Doug has set Mal on the ground and turned his attention to hades)

Doug: WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING

Hades (Sebastian Stan): it won’t stop until it’s back inside the barrier

Doug: argh I hate adults.

(He rubs part Jay and kicks the ember back inside. The momentum of the jewel hits hades square in the forehead and sends him somesaulting backwards. Ben, Jay and Evie collapse on the ground)

Hades (on the verge of tears): I’m so sorry my darlings

(Mal, eyes ablaze with fury, sends thorn vines in his direction. Hades teleports away in blue fire and the vines disintegrate when they hit the barrier. Then Mal collapses again)

Doug (going to each of them in turn): is everyone alright? I’m just gonna roll you over in your sides so you don’t swallow your tongues.

Evie (pulling him into a hug): you saved us

Doug: well my family was in trouble. It’s what we do for each other. Why would that-stone-thing-attack you guys

Mal (breathing heavily): I uh I don’t I dun kn

Ben (rushing to her side): it’s ok. It’s ok. It’s all over

Evie (scoffing): for all you know. It’s hades. He mortalised his nephew because he was jealous.

Doug: that was a bastardisation. Zeus is really the dickhead. It’s not Hades who literally swans about look for human women to prey upon

Jay: you know all this how?

Doug: I read.

Jay: such as?

Doug: tumblr. Mostly. When you manage to find your own niche away from drama you it’s very informative.

Ben: but you’re technologically illiterate.

Doug: I was not so much but that Evie and Carlos helped oh dear

(Mal’s retched and thrown up on the ground)

Mal: that was awful. It was tearing my magic out of me. It felt like last year.

Evie: I felt it too. Like a price of my soul was being ripped out

Jay: we need to get back to the school.

Doug: none of you are in any position to teleport yourselves or me. I’ll call Carlos and ask him to bring the car (he rifles around in his pockets) fucking fuckity fuck fuck shitting hell

Mal: what’s wrong.

Doug: I put my phone on the seat next to me. In the limo.

Jay: so we’re fucked?

Doug: basically yeah

Celia (in the limo): not completely

Ben: what the heck?

Celia: you really should swear more

Mal: what are you doing Celia?

Celia: I’ve come to help. Unless you want to be exposed to the elements

Jay: no thanks

Celia: then get in.

(The teens, with Ben caring Mal bridal style, all pile in the limo and drive off. None of them see the two eels watching them from the water. This is when “wicked always wins” happens)

[peakystitches]

revenge is best served cold

AN: this is a small drabble I spontaneously wrote this morning. it’s a tiny Michael thing with a lot of angst and tension. no warnings except for those typical PB ones. 2687 words. Enjoy!

This was it.

The end of the line; the final straw.

I drew a deep breath as my eyes fluttered shut. Soap, towels mixed with the smell of sweat. Nothing new, nothing I hadn’t experienced before. When my eyes opened again, it was as if I saw clearly. I cocked my gun.

This was it.

My target was an employee of the Shelby Company Limited. An important man, but only viewed as a boy by most. He was my age, but still he had gone down a path of destruction, being a darkness that swallowed the happiness stepping in front of it. He had swallowed mine, yet I had never met him. Never stared into blue eyes, never smelled that cologne that now felt so fucking overwhelming.

See, my brother met his demise at the 9th of June. I found him at 12 o'clock. A bullet had entered his forehead, buried itself into the back of his head before blowing a shade of crimson on the wall behind him. Slanted, propped up like a horrible nightmare, he had ended his life as quick as it had begun. He was 18. He was a child.

A child, shot by a child. Both me and his killer were 19.

I had swore revenge. Swore to do the same, to dye another wall with that sickly sweet liquid. As my tears mixed with my brother’s, I swore to bask in the redness from his murderer.

But would it ever be that easy?

I ended up on a witch hunt. Trailing every single clue, looking at all traces of the person who had pulled the trigger. I dug down into the associates of my brother, but it never ended up conclusive. It wasn’t until I looked into his bedroom drawer the pieces were slowly fitting into a morbid puzzle.

My brother was addicted. Addicted to adrenaline, to the relief that was cocaine. How fucking absurd, I had thought to myself as I stared at that blue vial. He, along with myself, was a child. A child addicted to snow. Drowning his sorrows in the sweet relief of whiskey, the bottle underneath his bed. He lived alone, maybe that was it. An apartment bought with the money of our deceased parents. The year I turned 16, they had met their demise in the hands of a fire, by the neglect of a burning cigarette. But my life wasn’t tragic, I would never claim so. We had money, we had the means to continue living, but some things never healed, never stopped burning. My brother was just a victim to his own mind.

So who had killed him?

I turned into a mess. Red threads scattered on my wall, pinned down along with photos, text. I was proud of what I had found. I had tracked down every damned person in Small Heath that dealt with coke. I pinned real names to nicknames, pictures to locations. Within three months, all my lines ended up at one, one picture. One man, one boy. But he was unattainable. Untouchable by the hand of the Shelby’s. In my eyes, he was nothing. A shadow.

That’s what he looked like, the night I walked into a pub located in the heart of Small Heath. The Garrison, courtesy of the Shelby’s. I wasn’t sure what I was aiming for when I walked in those wooden doors, the odour of every kind of alcohol out there mixed with the sweetness of tobacco overwhelming my senses. Loud chatter by men, the sound of glass and crystal knocking together in a symphony of all that was bad in this world. The only thing that was missing was a brawl, and I was set.

My feet carried me over to the bar, my fingers warm against the polished wood. The man behind it looked at me like I was out of place. Truth to be told, I was, and everyone in near vicinity knew. Until someone paid attention to me. Of course. It was destiny, wasn’t it? With wavy hair framing my face, eyes that made me look innocent rather than the cold hearted bitch that I was.

“You look out of place.”

I didn’t even have to turn. I didn’t know his voice, but I knew his face. I could only feel the winds of him rapidly rising his hand, waving at the man behind the bar for some sort of drink. A beat later, whiskey appeared in front of me. I fought the temptation to laugh, because this is where it began. He was going to get me drunk.

Michael fucking Gray was trying to get me drunk.

“You give drinks to all the girls out of place?”

He sat down beside where I was standing, which was my cue to do the same. Reluctantly I cupped my hands around the cool crystal.

“No”, his husky voice called out while his blue orbs drank the sight in front of him, “only those who are worth my time.”

When I turned my head, I met his gaze. He was looking just like his picture; striking, pretty. A typical boy all the girls would die to get in bed with. To have him protect them. Too bad they didn’t know he once shot a child in cold blood.

“Trying your luck, eh? Well, I’ll credit you for your effort.”

“You know who I am?”

I glanced over at him with a cocked brow. “Should I credit you for that too?”

A raw chuckle escaped Michael’s lips. In another situation, in another life, I would’ve swooned involuntarily. Bedded him with all intentions of being fucked sore. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.

“I’m Michael, that’s all you need to worry ‘bout.”

“And not the fact that you’d have my eyes if I looked at you the wrong way?”

“No, that’s more of my cousin’s style.”

While yours is to shoot youngsters. I swallowed my unspoken words with a mouthful of whiskey. I needed every kind of liquid courage I could get while I hatched my plan. It wasn’t like me to do something spontaneous. I always spent days, weeks on end planning my moves, even if it was something as fundamental as getting a new job. This was an opportunity for me to shine, to get my sweet revenge without having to seek him out, to choose the scenario I had dreamed of for months. Who knew faith could work this well in my favour?

“Well then, Michael.” I turned my head once again to look at him, a sultry look on my face, practiced and perfectioned in the mirror just in case this would ever happen. “Tell me more about your style.”

It didn’t take many drinks for him to - what he thought - win me over. I made sure to avoid drinking everything in the glass, claiming to be a lightweight as I put my hand on his arm and giggled mindlessly. I hated how I acted, I always looked at women like that as gold diggers. I had expected that my sarcasm would scare him away, but it rather seemed to turn him on, an assumption he confirmed when he put his hand on my thigh, his little finger playing with the edge of my dress. I had pulled it higher to tease him, maybe that was a deciding factor as well.

Whatever it was, it all worked out when he leaned over, his hot, whiskey breath fanning across my cheek. Instead of giving me warm tingles in my stomach, it made me sick, causing my flesh to crawl on my bones.

“Come wi’ me to my place, love”, he whispered in my ear. He pretended to be drunker than he was, I knew that already. “Let me take care of you.”

I put my hand over my mouth as I giggled, though the sweet sound tasted bitter on my tongue. I wanted to slap him hard when his lips placed sloppy kisses on my exposed neck. I let him do whatever until he pulled back, eyes shining with hunger. Normally, I’d almost be flattered, but now I wanted to stab him and spill his guts. He assisted me off my stool, making sure I had my purse.

“Christ, what’re you carrying? Feels like a brick.”

Biting my lip, I just smirked at him as I grabbed his hand and guided him out into the cobbled streets. Never had the cold air of England felt so good, clearing my head and bearing the gift of light drizzle from the sky. I had a gun in my purse, and Michael had almost found it.

His home wasn’t far from the Garrison. I could swear it was planned, only to satisfy that young lust for a quick, uncharted fuck. Variation was the key to satisfaction. Everything in his house was sterile, so unhomely. No pictures on the wall, clothes nicely folded on a chair in his bedroom. He looked like the guy who only used one room in his house and didn’t bother dwelling by the others. Even his curtains were beige, for crying out loud. He ripped me out of my thoughts; I had to collect myself when he grabbed my shoulder and abruptly turned me to him to kiss me hard.

The truth? I hated it. I tasted blood on his tongue. I saw my brother’s marks from sliding down that wall. The taste of blood suddenly became so real when he pulled back, a hand over his bottom lip as he looked at me with furrowed brows.

“Fuck, so eager”, he hummed wide-eyed, but I couldn’t force a smirk back on my face. I was beginning to think that rough sex was exactly this guy’s muse, which seemed just right when he went in for another kiss.

“Michael”, I interjected, my hand flying to hold his jaw. The blood on his lip was nothing but a foreshadowing, I couldn’t help but smile at the fucking irony. “Let me freshen up, yeah?”

He reluctantly let me go, pointed me to the bathroom with his chin as he began loosening his tie. I let my hand slide across his arm when I walked by him, just in case, just to keep him on his toes in that delusional dream of his. He’ll never see tomorrow. The second I had locked the door behind me, I grabbed my gun and threw the purse on the floor. It felt so heavy in my hands, so out of place. Four months ago I would never have imagined carrying a loaded gun in an unknown man’s bathroom. I drew a deep breath. A lot had changed. I had changed.

“You comin’ out here?” Michael called out to me, making me jump out of my fucking skin. I used it as a cue for my arrival, opening the door with one hand and hiding behind the frame with the other, the one holding the foul metal that was going to end his life in a few minutes or less. He was seated on the bed, a smirk decorating his chiselled face, yet young and soft face. Biting my lip, I tried for the innocent approach, and it seemed so work as he leaned back against the headboard, looking at me down the bridge of his nose. He suspected nothing, which was perfect, as I took those steps into the room. My gun was risen before he could even think, my finger steady on the trigger while my arms were comparable to jello. Adrenaline had rooted in my system even before I had unlocked the bathroom door. He needed a few seconds to sum up, to get up on his feet and try his best to sober up. With his hands risen, he could finally react like he would without the equivalent of a pint of whiskey in his system.

“What…?”

“Don’t fucking talk, Michael. I have some shit to tell you, and you’re going to listen without interrupting. Got it?”

“Hey, don’t do this, I-“

My voice turned into a desperate scream, “I will shoot you in the fucking leg if you don’t listen!”

He slowly got up on his feet regardless, and I didn’t shoot as I had promised to do. Fuck, my head wasn’t clear, I blamed the whiskey. I had never held a gun on anyone before, and no matter how much I trained at my own reflection in the mirror, I could never have prepared for the adrenaline coursing through my veins, my muscles. I was shaking, and he saw that. He knew my weaknesses like they were written on my face.

He called my name, making me shift my stance. “Give me something, love, I have no idea why you're pointing a gun at me.”

“Does Adam ring a bell?” My voice was wavering, I couldn’t yell without having your throat fail on me. “Adam y/l/n? The boy you fucking shot three months ago?”

He froze in his steps. His face turned paler if it possibly could, and God, I’d kill to know what was running around in that feeble head of his.

“That was business.” His immediate reaction was to try reasoning with me. Pathetic, I knew I was going to pull the trigger anyway. Decorate that white pillow with splatters of red. “I hadn’t planned to kill him, but he pulled a gun on me. I was left with no choice; it was him or me. I pulled the trigger first.”

I blinked a couple of times, swallowing but realising my throat was nothing but crisp and dry. He was slowly approaching me by this point, all while my thoughts never let up, as they tried to force themselves through my membrane and choke me with boney hands.

“Give me the gun, y/n. Let’s talk ‘bout this.”

I rose my gun properly again, my arm having sunken by the strain on my muscles. “No, get the fuck back, or I’ll blow your brains out.”

He stopped in his tracks, not wanting to actually die this fateful night.

“Lower the gun.”

“No, I’m going to fucking kill you like you killed my brother because of debt. I know what you did, Michael, hell, I know everything about you. You’re a murderer, and I will end you.”

“First, we can talk”, he tried again, his hands not even wavering. I had no idea how to interpret that, because my brain couldn’t even comprehend breathing properly anymore.

“No fucking talking!”

By this point, Michael was standing by his nightstand. This was where I felt stupid. Where I looked back and reviewed it as the exact moment where everything went to absolute shit.

“I didn’t want to do this.”

In a swift movement, he had opened the drawer and pulled a gun out. I had no idea why I didn’t react on the exact millisecond he did it, maybe my mistake was to have one drink too many, or I didn’t practice my shooting well enough.

I never knew how you could feel your tongue in your mouth. In a moment like that, it was all I could think about. How it was so out of place, how it felt so big and pushed strangely against my teeth. Was it supposed to be like that? Why did God create mankind with such a flaw and then make it possible to swallow it and choke to death? I didn’t know that my natural reaction was to bite it, to let my molars chew through the gelatinous muscle and let the metallic taste spill down my throat. Blood didn’t taste as sweet as it smelled.

He hadn’t made the same realisation as me, but he had made a discovery too; picking up girls at bars should’ve been illegal.

When I watched him pull his gun, I saw how it was almost the same as mine. Blank, polished metal shaped into a lethal tool fashioned to kill. Despite being so similar, only one of the pistols fired as both were pointed at their opponent.

I could only beg for it to be mine.

[mikmikisnotcrack]

BTS as your Overprotective Brothers

Hyung Line || Maknae Line

Pairing: Brother! BTS

Warnings: None

▪▪▪

Kim Namjoon

Namjoon was a very strict brother. He has a designated curfew for every time you went out, he has a list on the fridge and in your room reminding you what you shouldn't do, he prohibits your outings and has to be updated on you 24/7. When he became an idol, you thought that you'd be a little more free since you now have your own apartment and he won't be there to keep an eye on you. You thought wrong. If anything, he got even more strict with you. Every time he's on tour he'd be messaging you non stop. However, you knew Namjoon was only doing his best so that his little sister wouldn't get harmed in any way.

You were currently getting ready to go to a party your college peers had every month. You were dressed in a black see through crop top with rose patches, black high waist shorts, fishnet stockings, high heeled boots and a leather jacket, you know, in case it was cold. Quickly finishing off your makeup with a dark plum lipstick, you grabbed your purse, car keys and headed out to meet your best friend outside your apartment building. However, as soon as you opened your door, your brother was right outside. 'Shit' you thought.

"Oppa! What are you doing here? I thought you were in Bangkok" You asked nervously as he eyed you down "We just got back, and I thought I would check on you in case you were scheming something. By the way you look, I'm guessing that you're going to that party at Min Hyuk's frat house?" He replies.

"Uhhh--" You start "You can't lie to me, (y/n)" He says, cutting you off. "Oppa, please let me go" You beg "This is a one time thing, I promise!"

"Mhm, say that to Nan Hee's instagram story a month ago" He says, showing you his phone where a highlight thread from last month's party was playing. You saw that Nan Hee decided to film the whole thing on her instagram story. Unfortunately, a bunch of those included you playing drinking games with some other girls in the party. 'Im going to kill you Nan Hee!' You thought.

You looked down, your hands fiddling together. You were sure that you'll be dead. Namjoon didn't like you going around partying, especially Min Hyuk's party. "You've been sneaking around while I was on tour, weren't you?" He says sternly, entering your apartment. You placed your purse on the coffee table as you sat down, suddenly finding the floor more interesting than your brother's face.

"Oppa... You wouldn't even let me out to go to the cafe without asking Jimin or Jungkook to go with me." You say, finding it extremely difficult to state your reason for sneaking out. "If I told you that I was invited to Min Hyuk's party, you wouldn't let me.."

You heard him sigh as he kneeled down. "I would've allowed you if you just asked." He says. You met his eyes, surprise written all over your face. "I've done more crazy shit than you ever would, believe me. You have no idea how much dad scolded me as a kid" He says with a little chuckle. "Now stand up, you got all tarted up just to go to that party, I'll drive you. But get home by 10:30, okay?"

You smiled as you both stood up. On the way to the elevator, you realized something "Wait, what does tarted up mean?" You ask. His eyes widened a little bit, disbelief written on his face "You play beer pong and do body shots and you don't know what that means?!"

"Uhhh maybe?"

"It means slutty. Dressed slut- you know what, nevermind."

Kim Seokjin

Your female friends always complained on how they wanted an older brother rather than an older sister. Apparently older sisters were sinister, bossy and more. You, however, think they're fucking insane for wanting a brother over a sister. If having one brother was annoying enough, you best believe having two would be worse. Seokjin constantly bossed you around, and since he was closer to your age, he was the one that monitored your outings and such. Seok Jung was the one that you had to ask for permission every time you do such outings. You can succeed in bribing Seokjin, but you're gonna have a hard time with Seok Jung.

"JIIIINNNN!!!!" You whined, clinging onto your brother's back. Your friends were planning a trip to Palawan for a week and invited you to join them. You managed to convince your eldest brother, so now you just had to convince Seokjin to allow you. Which is why you decided to barge into their dorm during their rest week.

"Excuse me? Jin? Do you have any respect for your oppa" he says, trying to walk back to the living room, but he couldn't due to his annoying little sister clinging onto his back. "What do you want (y/n)?"

"(Y/N)'S HERE?" You hear the distinct voices of the maknaes coming from different parts of the house "NO SHE ISN'T!" Seokjin shouted back as he finally got back to the living room where Yoongi, Namjoon and Hoseok were sitting. "Hong Joo invited me-" "No" He says, cutting you off.

"BUT OPPAAA" You whine, tightening your grip on his torso, making him wheeze a little. "(y/n) you are twenty five years old, stop acting like a child!" He scolds, trying to shake you off. "Yah, Hyung quiet down, I can't concentrate" Yoongi says, button mashing on a controller.

"Then stop treating me like a child!" You say, getting back on the ground. Seokjin sighed, turning around "Fine, what do you want?" He asks. "Hong Joo asked me to go with her and our friends to Palawan. I already asked Seok Jung oppa and he said sure, ask Seokjin" You explain.

"Palawan?! Isn't that a little too far? And who are you going with?" He asks

"Yeah, Busan is also too far away" He glares at your sarcasm, making you laugh nervously "Anyways, the people who're going are Hong Joo, Woo Tak, Hee Min, Seung Won, So Yoon, Cho Hee, Dae Gu and Jaechan"

"JAE CHAN?!" He exclaims "Nope, you aren't coming and that's confirmed. Why are there so many guys?!"

"Oppa, chill, I'm staying in a room with Cho Hee! And hello, he's happily dating Hong Joo for crying out loud!"

"Alright, fine. You can go. But if I hear any funny business happening, you are never getting out of Hyung and I's sight okay?"

Min Yoongi

"Oppa, can you answer the door please?" You yell from your room, making Yoongi sigh as he got up from his comfortable position on the couch. He recently went home to Daegu so he can spend time witj his family, so here he was. According to his mom, there was a visitor coming. He constantly asked around the household on who was coming, but no one answered him. For christ sake he even phoned Jun Ki but he didn't give any reasonable answer on who was this guest and why was his family making a big deal about it. They were all fussing around the house... what for?

Yoongi opened the door and came face to face with a boy he knew all too well "Jaeyoung" He says bitterly. Jung Jaeyoung was a trainee at the company, and in all honesty, he hated his guts. Yoongi could practically smell the fuckboy on him. And not only that, he was that trainee that bossed around his younger trainees and messed around eith the stylists. God knows how the hell he still gets away with his shit. "Hyung! Hi! Uhh... Why are you here?" He asks "I could say the same thing for you" Yoongi replies.

"Um... I'm here for my girlf--" "Byee~" Yoongi says, cutting him off. He already knew what this kid was going to say and immediately slammed the door in his face. "Who was at the door oppa?" You asked, scaring him a little as he failed to notice that you had gone down "Oh, just some people asking for donations for the church" He says. The doorbell rang again and before he could stop you, you had already yanked the door open.

"Jaeyoung!" You exclaimas you hugged him. Yoongi looked at the two of you, disgust evident in his face as he stepped back inside. "Eomma, Appa, my boyfriend is here!" You exclaimed, your parents immediately running out of the kitchen to meet the boy you keep talking about. Yoongi stiffled a laugh as he noticed his mom's smile drop for a split second. She can sense the fuckboy in him too.

Dinner soon started, everyone was dressed nicely, except Yoongi who was in a hoodie and sweats as they ate. Jaeyoung kept talking about himself and you just stared at him with those heart eyes, completely neglecting the fact that he was only talking about him. Yoongi glared daggers at him as he ate, but was soon snapped out when he recieved a text message. At the corner of his eyes, Yoongi saw his mom put down her phone and shot him that stare. He unlocked his phone and almost laughed at his mom's message for him.

'Please shut him up, I can't stand the sound of his voice.'

The night progressed and his words were tiring almost everyone, and at this point the whole family except you was trash talking Jaeyoung in the 'Min Family (minus maknae) GC'. Hell, even Jun Ki was bashing on him. What the hell did you even see in him?! Enough was enough when he slowly started complaining about how you were as a girlfriend, and Yoongi could tell that you were slowly getting affected by it. "Okay, Jaeyoung, Im gonna be straight forward right now, please shut the fuck up." Yoongi says, cutting off the boy and surprising you.

"Excuse me?" Jaeyoung says, obviously offended "Yeah, you heard me. Shut the fuck up." Yoongi replies "O-Oppa!" You stutter. You were not gonna deal with a fight right now. "Not right now (y/n), we'll talk later, okay?" He says, flashing you his gummy smile then turning back to your shit boyfriend with the most intense glare you've seen him do.

"No offense, but please get your head out of your ass, it's not a hat. You are in our household and all you did was talk about yourself as if you were some God, in which you are not. We have tolerated your shit for about two hours now, despite your voice is like nails on a chalkboard." Yoongi starts as he stood up from his chair and started walking towards Jaeyoung

"If your attitude wasn't enough, you decided to shit talk my sister right in front if her and her family. Have you got no shame? Oh right, you don't because everything about you is already shameful." Yoongi grabs the back of his chair, yanks it out and pulls him by the collar towards the door "My sister is an amazing person and she doesn't need you in her life you walking piece of trash. I am breaking you two up. Please never come back to her and get your stuff from Big Hit because you are also no longer a trainee. Goodbyee~" And with that as a finishing statement, Yoongi opened the door and shoved him outside, dusting off his hands before closing the door and locking it.

He turned around and was engulfed in a hug by his little sister, making him smile as he patted you on the back "Thanks oppa" You say "Hey, don't sweat it, oppa always has your back."

Jung Hoseok

Hoseok stared at you from the car. Jiwoo had told him to pick you up since she was busy, so he borrowed her car and went to pick you up at your school. His eyes narrowed as he saw a boy walk up to you with a box and a bouquet of flowers. He watched as you smiled, bowed and took the gifts. He rolled his eyes as he drove over to the parking lot and honked the horn, making your eyes snap from the guy's face and to the car. You bid your goodbyes, thanked him for the flowers and gift and entered the car. "Hey un-- oh! Oppa, I thought you were on tour with the others" You say, not expecting Hoseok to be the one picking you up

"Nice to see you too (y/n), Noona's busy so she told me to pick you up instead" He says,making you hum in response. He looked at you from the mirror and saw that you had opened the box and inside was a compliment jar. He silently scoffed as he stopped at a stoplight. "So, who was that boy earlier?" He asks, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. Your eyes widened, realizing that your brother had seen the exchange between you and Tae Kwon, a guy who has been courting you for the past three months.

"Um.. A guy from our class, why?" You ask, smiling nervously at your brother. "Mhm, and why'd he give you those? Seems cliche" He replies

"He's been courting me for the past three months..." You say, knowing that you can't even attempt to lie to your brother.

He stepped on the gas pedal as the light turned green. "Does noona know about him?" He asks.

"Well, yeah. He's been sending flowers and food at home. And when unnie doesn't pick me up he's the one who accompanies me so..."

"I see. Well, either way please kindly reject him. He seems like a nice guy and all, but you're still too young to get into the dating game, ok?" He says with a smile as he looked at you from the rear view mirror "It's not that I don't like him, It's more of I don't want you getting your heart broken at an early age. Take it from someone who's been dumped for a better man. I promise you, you don't need love to be happy in your life. Sure, it's reassuring to know that someone loves you, but sometimes It doesn't go well. Prioritize your studies first instead of love, okay? But even then, if you choose to get in the dating game I won't stop you. It's your life and I, as well as mom, dad and Jiwoo noona, is only here to guide and ensure that you won't end up in regretful situations."

You smiled at your brother as you leaned forward "Thanks oppa" You say as you kissed his cheek and laid back down at the back.

"Yah! Put your legs down, people outside could probably see your underwear!"

▪▪▪

Requests are open guys!! Also to the youngins out there, pls take Hoseok's word of advice seriously 👌

[originaldisneydescendants]

Get To Know Me Uncomfortably Well

Tagged by:

@askvarian-alchemyisforstuds

Tagging: If you want to do it, consider yourself tagged.

1. What is you middle name? Jeanne

2. How old are you? 22 3. When is your birthday? July 10 4. What is your zodiac sign? Not into Zodiacs 5. What is your favorite color? Pink, blue and purple 6. What’s your lucky number? N/A 7. Do you have any pets? A husky mix named Olivia NJ after the singer and a budgie named Azul 8. Where are you from? Originally: Concord, California 9. How tall are you? 5′2.5” 10. What shoe size are you? 8 11. How many pairs of shoes do you own? Um... six I think? Probably another pair or two hidden somewhere in my closet. 12. What was your last dream about? My mom and I escaping some weird lady who was chasing us. At one point I was riding behind her on a motorcycle and she popped a wheelie. 13. What talents do you have? I've been told that I'm good at singing, art (painting, drawing, sculpting etc.) and writing (prose/poetry) 14. Are you psychic in any way? No, but I have had prophetic dreams of God just making me aware of what's currently going on in my life 15. Favorite song? A million songs is all it's gonna take, a million songs for the playlist I'm gonna make! 16. Favorite movie? Prince of Egypt, Coco 17. Who would be your ideal partner? The video is pretty cheesy but A Man of God like the one described in this one song 18. Do you want children? Yeah, someday 19. Do you want a church wedding? And I was my pastor to officiate it 20. Are you religious? Let me put it this way, Jesus died for me. How could I do anything less than live for Him? 21. Have you ever been to the hospital? On a field trip 22. Have you ever got in trouble with the law? Not to my memory, no 23. Have you ever met any celebrities? Define 'met' then define 'celebrity'. I've MET people who are well-known but not exactly celebrity status and asked a question at a Q&A with someone who I guess could be considered a minor celebrity? 24. Baths or showers? Showers and long ones 25. What color socks are you wearing? N/A 26. Have you ever been famous? Voted 'Most Artistic' freshman year at High School, does that count? 27. Would you like to be a big celebrity? HAHAHAHAHAHA no 28. What type of music do you like? Most kinds as long as it's not screamo or too folky and even then I may have an exception or two 29. Have you ever been skinny dipping? Maybe when I was a little kid? 30. How many pillows do you sleep with? Lots 31. What position do you usually sleep in? On my stomach or curled up 32. How big is your house? My mom called it a 'cracker box' house 33. What do you typically have for breakfast? Muffins, crepes or waffles 34. Have you ever fired a gun? I'm probably the only person in my family and the whole state who hasn't 35. Have you ever tried archery? In High School P.E. yeah 36. Favorite clean word? Shoot! 37. Favorite swear word? I generally don't swear. I could probably count the number of times on my hands. If you ever hear me swear... run 38. What’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep? 24-48 hours? I don't remember 39. Do you have any scars? Everywhere 40. Have you ever had a secret admirer? Define 'secret' 41. Are you a good liar? I don't think so, I try to avoid lying as much as I can 42. Are you a good judge of character? I think so? Not if I have a crush on them though unfortunately 43. Can you do any other accents other than your own? A few, I'm not sure how many 44. Do you have a strong accent? I guess? I tend to pronounce my Ts as Ds like people in the area do 45. What is your favorite accent? Scottish and French, maybe British as well 46. What is your personality type? ISFP last I checked 47. What is your most expensive piece of clothing? An outfit that my grandmother bought for my last Easter with a black boat-neck top and a poofy black and white skirt 48. Can you curl your tongue? Yup 49. Are you an innie or an outie? Innie 50. Left or right handed? Right 51. Are you scared of spiders? I used to be very arachnophobic but I think I'm getting a little better. I think it would be a lot easier if they didn't bite or move so fast. I'm gonna have to get used to them because my mom now lives in a rural house and they have orb-weaver spiders EVERYWHERE 52. Favorite food? Honey-walnut shrimp, rotisserie hot dogs and pizza 53. Favorite foreign food? Ethiopian stew and call me weird, I like calamari and kim nori 54. Are you a clean or messy person? It fluctuates 55. Most used phrase? “LORD help me.” 56. Most used word? Cool 57. How long does it take for you to get ready? I am slow so it takes forever 58. Do you have much of an ego? I try not to? 59. Do you suck or bite lollipops? When I'm not just letting it sit in my mouth, I gnaw like an animal chewing on a bone 60. Do you talk to yourself? Of course I do. I have a lot to say and few people willing to hear me ramble 61. Do you sing to yourself? When I'm home alone 62. Are you a good singer? I got a four out of five score in my High School's solo and ensemble competition and I believe I have improved since then 63. Biggest Fear? Very venomous things 64. Are you a gossip? I really try not to but sometimes some nameless gossip slips out of me 65. Best dramatic movie you’ve seen? Besides Prince of Egypt, The Case for Christ actually had me crying through most of it 66. Do you like long or short hair? Both have pros and cons. Short hair doesn't get knotted or tangled but you can't do the braids you want and if you go to sleep with wet hair you will wake up to a monster on your head that you can't get rid of 67. Can you name all 50 states of America? Here we go... California, Arizona, New Mexico, Nevada, Oregon, Washington, Idaho, Montana, North Dakota, South Dakota, Colorado, Texas, Oklahoma, Wisconsin, Minnesota, Missouri, Ohio, Illinois, New York, Massachusetts, Georgia, Florida, North Carolina, South Carolina, Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Alabama, Hawaii, Alaska, Maine, Maryland, Rhode Island, Nebraska, Virginia, West Virginia, Arkansas, Wyoming, Mississippi, Louisiana, Utah, Michigan, and here are the rest that I got from the Animaniac's song: Indiana, New Jersey, Delaware, New Hampshire, Vermont, Connecticut, Kansas, Iowa, 68. Favorite school subject? Art and Creative Writing 69. Extrovert or Introvert? Usually an introvert but I have extroverted moments 70. Have you ever been scuba diving? Nope 71. What makes you nervous? Public speaking 72. Are you scared of the dark? I was when I was a kid 73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes? ...I have a habit 74. Are you ticklish? Don't touch me 75. Have you ever started a rumor? If I have it was unintentional and I was unaware of it 76. Have you ever been in a position of authority? Does backstage security count? 77. Have you ever drank underage? Depends. Does that include church communion? 78. Have you ever done drugs? I drink a lot of caffeine 79. Who was your first real crush? Hunter from Kindergarten, he had curly hair and dimples and to this day that remains a weakness of mine 80. How many piercings do you have? I don't even have my ears pierced, not that I have anything against it, it just never happened 81. Can you roll your Rs? The ability comes and goes 82. How fast can you type? I took a whole class on typing and I have no clue 83. How fast can you run? I ran a mile in 12 minutes and I think that was me at my fastest 84. What color is your hair? Brown 85. What color are your eyes? Dark brown 86. What are you allergic to? I may have a slight allergy to the adhesive in band-aids depending on where I put them 87. Do you keep a journal? I've tried repeatedly but it always gets neglected 88. What do your parents do? My mom is a caretaker for the elderly and my dad is a retired under sheriff/paramedic who now drives the city bus and teaches driving 89. Do you like your age? I'm in the prime of life yo 90. What makes you angry? My brother taking a whole box of food, eating half of it and throwing the rest away without touching it... 91. Do you like your own name? Yeah 92. Have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they? Not the most unique but I like Luke and Matthew for boys and maybe Akina for a girl? 93. Do you want a boy a girl for a child? See above 94. What are you strengths? Spirit. 95. What are your weaknesses? *Opens book* *Ahem* chapter one... 96. How did you get your name? My name means hillside/slope and I was named after where my dad proposed to my mom... also a perfume company 97. Were your ancestors royalty? Not that I'm aware of 98. Do you have any scars? Didn't I already answer this one? 99. Color of your bedspread? Cream with gold stars 100. Color of your room? Way too light to be beige and dull? I'm not sure...

[hornsbeforehalos]

Whiskey, Sweetheart: Part 1

Pairing: Norman Reedus x OFC, Past JDM x OFC Warnings: RPF, Language, Breif Violence, Jealousy, Angsty.

Series Masterlist

Summary: After Jeffrey’s neglect pushed her away and into the arms of his best friend, Norman and Ky have to figure out if their new relationship can withstand not only the aftermath of the unspeakable crime they commited to keep her safe, but the backlash that comes from being co-workers with a very betrayed Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

A/n: This is the Sequel to Anytime, Sweetheart and The Conquests of Norman Reedus. You dont have to read all of Conquests to understand, but at least the finale:  this

TAGS: ( I tagged everyone from A-S, please let me know if you want to be untagged for this series.)

@elinyaes   @jml509  @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed @aquivercactus   @xagateophobiax @sorenmarie87 @missghoul18 @jdmfanfiction @jeffreydeanneganstrash @through-thesilver-lining @beffyblueeyes @docharleythegeekqueen @make-things-beautiful2 @srj1990  @dragongirl420  @reedusteinrambles  @youandyourstupidrope @addiction-survivor25 @fireheartart @redm81  foreveror-never @zombeeemomeee @blacklightguidesnic @jackybehappy @jodiereedus22

‘Fuck, Fuck fuck fuck’ I thought to myself as the memories of the night before flooded through my body, the image of Norman tangled between my legs and him calling out my name making my eyes widen and burn as I stared at Jeffrey in front of me, my fingers grasping onto the sheet wrapped around my body with one hand while gripping the door handle for dear life to keep from passing out. His eyes widened themselves as he took in my state of dress, the sheet falling slightly in my surprise. 

“You fuckin’ kidding me?” He instantly roared, pushing past me into the room to yank the covers off Norman, who was instantly shocked awake. “What the fuck?” Norman barked, jumping up out of the bed and holding his hands up in defence, “Look, Jeff, I-” “You what, Bubba? Please fucking tell me what I’m lookin’ at right now.” Jeff growled, glare shifting back and forth between Norman and I. “It’s-” He started, but I cut him off, “We fucked.” I stated bluntly, letting the sheet drop from my body as I worked my way around the room collecting my clothes, “I wasn’t gonna tell you, but since you so rudely woke me up this morning, I really don’t give a fuck.” Jeffrey spun on his heels to point an accusing finger at Norman as I began getting dressed, “You fucked my fuckin’ woman, Norm?” Norman raised his hands back up in surrender, stuttering something that sounded like, “I-I-I…” “I should have fuckin’ known,” Jeffrey seethed, shaking his head before turning his fiery stare back to me, chuckling out a breathy laugh,“After Rob, after Corey…” I cocked an eyebrow at him as I finished pulling my dress down down around my torso, “What’s that supposed to mean, Jeffrey?” “Do I need to spell it out for you, little girl? I should have known you two would pull some shit like this.” “The fuck that’s supposed to mean?” Norman growled, puffing his chest out dominantly as he took a step forward. Jeffrey snorted, scrubbing his jawline with his finger tips in amusement, “I shoulda known never to consider you a fuckin friend, Norman. I’ve been fucked over by friends before but this?” He shook his head again, waving a finger back and forth between the two of us again, “This is a new fuckin’ low, bro.” “Aye, man, fuck you. You’re the one that ditched her ass on her fuckin’ birthday, and every fuckin’ time before. You’re the one that pushed her away.” “The fuck you just say to me, boy?” Jeffrey growled, pressing his own bowed out chest against Norman’s intimidatingly. “I’m not a fucking boy, number one.” Norman squinted, “and number two, yeah, I fucked Ky. Hell fucking yeah I did,” His eyes roamed up and down Jeff’s face and neck before meeting his eyes again, “And I’m gonna do it again, too. Cuz you not knowin’ how to treat a fuckin’ woman ain’t my problem. Don’t play the victim when you know for a damn fact you put her through Hell.” My mouth dropped open as Jeffrey’s fist flew and cracked Norman against his cheekbone as the other man grabbed the front of his shirt. They wresteled each other to the floor of the hotel room and I instantly ran over to try to pull Jeffrey off of Norman. “Gonna need another fuckin’ eye socket when I’m done, bitch,” Jeffrey roared as his fist contacted Norman’s face again, a gurgle of pain erupting from the man as he landed his own blow against Jeff’s jaw. “Fuck you, Morgan.” he gritted and punched again. “Jeff, fucking stop!” I screeched, tugging on the collar of his jacket, trying to pull him off, “Fucking quit!” Jeffrey’s elbow rose back and came incontact with my chest, pushing me back as he stood on his feet and grabbed my upper arm, “Get the fuck off me,” Before I could even think my own fist was colliding with Jeffrey’s nose, blood immediately pouring out as he shoved me away from him and against the wall. I hit the drywall with a thud, my head connecting and causing me to see stars momentarily. I slipped down onto the floor, Jeff looming over me menacingly. “You stupid fucking bitch,” He spat, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, “What did I do to deserve this, huh? “Well, I don’t know, Jeff, let’s fuckin’ see,” I started, rage giving me the strength to stand on my feet again, “In the month that it’s been since I fucking killed a man, I haven’t seen you for shit, you haven’t even asked me how the fuck I’ve been the entire time I’ve been in Vancouver, and then, then, after all that bullshit, you miss my fucking birthday? No!” “You’re the one that wanted to be big billy bad ass with that guy! I told you I was gonna take care of it!” He gritted back, “When, Jeff? When he fuckin’ killed me?"I growled, tilting my head in anger and squinting at him, "And let’s not fuckin’ forget Tanya, now, shall we?” He snatched me up by the front of my t-shirt and pulled me to his chest, “Don’t even fuckin’ start." 

"What are you gonna do, Jeffrey?” I snorted, looking up at him unafraid, “Hit me?” “Get your fuckin’ hands off of her,” Norman roared, shoving Jeff from the side and ripping him away from me. They fell to the floor again and grappled, exchanging fists once more before the door was finally busted in and 3 Dallas police officers barged through. 

Naturally, because Dallas is what Dallas is, all three of us were handcuffed and thrown in the back of police cars and carted off to Lew Sterrit, the officers explaining “our celebrity” status required them to take us some place more “secure” Whatever. It took aproximately 4 hours for Josh, Jensen, and Jared to show up, and in the mean time I could still hear Norman and Jeff through the thin walls of the interregation rooms they were holding us in. “Jesus fucking Christ, you two, shut the fuck up!” I shouted loudly enough for them to hear me. “Fuck you!” I heard Jeffrey roar back. “Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that, fucker!” “Fuck you too!” “I swear to fucking god I’m going to kill both of them,” I mumbled lowly to myself, irritation at the situation spilling over. When my brothers did finally get around to bailing us out, the looks on their faces told me all I needed to know about how they were feeling. “What the fuck happened, Ky?” Jared asked, confusion and irritation flitting across his face. “Yeah, explain to everyone why they had to bail us out.” Jeffrey spat as we exited the building. “Because you’re a fucking psycho.” I hissed, head snapping towards Jeff as we made our way to the cars. He barked out a laugh and moved his hand to cover his mouth, cocking an amused eyebrow, “You fuckin’ serious right now?” Norman instantly gave Jeff a shove against the car, Jared and Jensen moving instantly to pull him off, “Dude, we’re in the fuckin’ jail parking lot.” Jared reminded him. “Don’t fuckin’ talk to her like that. That’s why you lost her right there,” Norman gritted out, huffing and puffing his chest out as the boys held him back from Jeff, who was equally seething, “You act like she don’t have emotions, which she does if you took three seconds to look her in the face instead of eye-balling her fucking tits!" 

Jeffrey growled at the man but didn’t advance, shaking his head as he opened Jared’s car door and got in the passengers side. "Josh’s got to get home, so you two are riding with me,” Jensen glared, fingers directed towards me and Norman “Yessirr” I snorted, giving him an exaggerated salute as I crawled into the back seat of his convertible. 

“Kylin, you know what people are gonna say about this,” Jensen scolded after I spilled the beans and told him wht happened on our way to my parents’ house. “So? People already say shit about us. Jeff’s the one that fucked that shit up, not me.” I assured, crossing my arms over my chest with a huff. “You’re not exactly a ray of sunshine, either, princess,” Jensen retorted, earning him a snort from Norman. “Look, Jeff and I are done, Norm and I like each other..or whatever this is,” I explained, shifting in the backseat to lean between the driver and passenger sides, “I’m not gonna feel bad for shit, and Norman shouldn’t either.” “Norman should probably feel a little bad,” Jensen contested, waving his hand back and forth in that “prolly about half way” motion. “And I fuckin’ do, okay? You think I wanted to fall for my best friends girl?” Norman shook his head, running his index and thumb over his chin as he gazed out the building whizzing by as Jensen drove. The dark purple bruise on his cheekbone flowering against his flushed face, “I feel like a fuckin’ asshole, man. I’m supposed to be Jeff’s friend, your friend.” He turned his head back to motion to me, “And that moment in the airport when you hung up that phone and then told me you were really through, allI could think about was how I might have a chance.” The car was silent for a moment as I sat back in my seat, sighing slightly at the idea that Norman felt like he was betraying his friend. I suddenly felt like I pushed him into this, and tears welled up and threatened to spill over as my lip quivered. “I"m sorry, Norm. It was a mistake.” “No, it wasn’t, babe. It’s a shitty situation, yes, but I do care about you, and I’m not going to do what he did.” Jensen nodded his head in approval as he cleared his throat, “Look, sis, this is soemthing that the two of you are gonna have to work through. Shit’s about to rain down on all three of ya'lls heads and I’m guessing I'mma get dirty in the process. Keep shit as low key as possible for now, would be my advice, but you know that shit don’t usually work that way.” The rest of the ride back was quiet, everyone lost in their own thoughts until we pulled into the driveway. Jensen put the car in park and turned to Norman, speaking in a low, stern voice, “Why don’t you go on inside for a minute, I need to have a word with my sister.” Norman nodded his head, glancing at me for a second with a small smile before exiting the vehicle and walking towards the entrance of the house. “What, bubs, spit it out,” I urged, rolling my eyes and crossing my arms again. “Look, I’m not going to lecture you or fight with you like last time, but this shit is bad, Ky. I mean, come one, Norman? That’s worse than if you'da run off with Corey.” “Jesus,” I huffed, shaking my head in annoyance, “It just….happened, okay? I’ve loved Norm for a long time, but I didn’t think of it as anything because of Jeff. Thought it was a friendship thing since he’d been there with me through so much shit. Then I was drunk and thinking and realized that the reason why I loved him was because he’d been there for me through all of it. He’s the one that stayed up with me when Jeffrey was with that bitch, He’s the one that made sure I was taken care of constantly and never needing anything. He’s the one that eventually showed me the fucking truth. He’s given me so many fucking opportunities to be independent, Jensen,” the tears were back now, and I sniffed the snot that was trying to run down my nose and wiped my eyes, “and not to mention Vegas….Jesus, he helped me fuckin’ kill a man.” “I know, sis…” Jensen whispered, nodding, “He’s the only one that’s checked up on me since then. Jeffrey avoided me, Corey’s still ignoring me…"I snorted again, wiping more tears, "Norman’s the one who actually made it a point to come to my fucking birthday party. Jeffrey just covered up his neglect with a fucking Camero and a text message.” “It’s a pretty sweet car, though.” Jensen reasoned, “Fuck yeah it is, and I’m keeping it too.”

“Everything okay?” Norman asked as I walked out into the backyard where he was sitting with my mom, smoking a cigarette. I plopped myself down beside him and stole one out of his pack, sighing deeply on exhale once it was lit.

“Yeah, I’m just tired. I don’t know what to think of this birthday.” I chuckled, small smile crossing my face as he switched hands holding his smoke to tangle his free fingers with mine. “Ya’ll are just adorable.” My mom cooed, smug smirk on her face like she’d just got done watching The Notebook or something. “You know, it is still technically your birthday,” Norman snorted, taking another drag as he squeezed my fingers, “Let’s go out tonight, we can go to that little bar we went to last time we were in Deep Ellum.” “Ooo that sounds like a lovely idea, dear.” My mom agreed. ”You’ve gotta  black eye, I look like shit. I’m good.” “It is your birthday, babe. Plus, I’ll wear my shades and no one will even know.” Norman insisted, pushing his sunglasses onto his nose to show that it covered the bruising on his face. I rolled my eyes.

“Go have fun, Kylin.” My mother urged.

“Fiiiine, okay. Something low-key though. I’ve had enough excitement for the day.”

We wound up at a little metal bar in Deep Ellum called July Alley, and sat in a back booth snuggled closley together after after pizza at the resturant next door. “I swear, I’m just gonna start callin’ you Whiskey, Sweetheart,” Norman chuckled as I was delivered my 5th shot of crown by the waitress giving him googly eyes that he wasn’t paying attention to. “I’m pretty sure it already makes up for about a third of my blood supply,” I snorted before knocking the shot back and humming at the delicious burn of the amber liquid, “It’s the only thing my stomach can stand to drink.” Norman barked out a laugh and shook his head, his fringe falling into his eyes under his Snapback, “Mine too, probably after hanging out with you so much.” “What can I say, I’m a bad influence,” I giggled sweetly. “Yeah, you are.” He agreed, throwing an arm behind my shoulders and reeling me into his side to kiss the crown of my head, “Happy birthday, princess.” “Thank you,” I smiled up at him, my fingers moving a piece of hair out of his face gently before running down the scruff decorating his cheek and jaw, “Thanks for everything.” “Ain’t a problem, girl,” He assured, his pretty chrystaline eyes dancing around my face, “I ain’t goin’ no where.” I smiled back at him and continued to play with his beard, running my thumb over his cheekbone as his free hand found its own way into my hair. The next thing I knew he was pulling my face towards his, touching our lips together in the first kiss since the night before. It was warm, inviting, and safe-feeling, something I’d been looking for for a long time. He tasted like cigarettes and Jack Daniels, with a little bit of garlic left over from the pizza. I smirked into his mouth as his tongue danced with mine, reveling in the low moan vibrating his chest as he tightened his fingers into my curls to pull me closer. HIs hand around my shoulders squeezed gently before he pulled away from me slowly, our lips finally breaking apart as our eyes opened and we stared at each other adoringly. 

“I’m so happy I can do that now.” He breathed, heart beat still steadily thumping against my own, “Don’t have to just think about it anymore.” “Me too,” I grinned back, face reddening suddenly under his soul-baring eyes. I nuzzled myself into his neck as he pulled out his phone, opening the selfie-camera and holding it back to get us both in the shot. I shook my head but smiled for the camera, followed by another with us both making goofy faces. He had shoved his sunglasses on to cover his black eye, and he played with the filters on his phone, giving it a spooky kind of vibe before opening instagram and to post it. “Watch your caption.” I chuckled. “Pffft, what do you think I am, stupid?” He snorted back, cocking an eyebrow at me as he typed out the caption. “Happy birthday to one of my best friends.” “Awh, I’m one of your best friends, Reedus?” I teased, nudging him with my shoulder. “Shut up,” he blushed, shaking his fringe infront of his eyes to try and hide, “You know you are.” “Still nice to hear it, though.” I grinned at him, resting my head on his shoulder. He kissed the crown of my head flippantly before tucking his phoen back in his pocket after checking his notifications, letting out a sigh at some of the comments, “So, how’re we gonna play this?” “What do you mean?” He held his mouth in a flat line and barely squinted his eyes sarcastically as he held up his phone, the picture of us already getting mulitple comments; “Where’s Jeffrey?” “I bet they’re fucking” “Since when are they so close?” “Jesus Christ,” I barked as he turned his phone back around and continued to scroll through. “Yeah…” “Um, Well, I don’t know.” Norman bobbed his head up and down in thought for amoment, drumming this thumbs along the edge of the table in front of him, “Probably should keep things a little quiet until shit settles between you and Jeff.” I sighed, nodding in agreement, “You’re probably correct.”

“So when you goin’ back to ‘Couver?” Norman asked quietly as we sat on my parents’ couch. Everyone else was asleep and the house was quiet and dark save the dim light pooling in from the kitchen. “Tomorrow,” I sighed, rubbing my temples with annoyance, “I’ve got to get Misha prepared to go home for the holiday plus make sure he’s everywhere he needs to be afterwards.” “Tense.” “He’s annoying.” “Seems like it.” I snorted at him and shook my head, bringing my glass of amber gold to my lips and sipping deeply. “Then you comin’ back here for Thanksgiving?” He questioned, taking a sip of his own glass.

“Yeah, Thanksgiving with my family. What are you doing?” “Gonna be in New York with Ming. His mom’s got some crazy thing to do in France or something.” “Fun” “Probably not. He’s getting to the age where he’s too cool to hang out with his ol’ man.” “I’m too cool to hang out with you too but here I am.” “Asshole.” “Generally, yeah."I retorted, stiffling a yawn with the backside of my hand. "Tired?” Norman asked with an amused smirk. “Fuckin’ exhausted.” I answered, placing my glass on the coffee table and stretching my arms over my head. “Come 'ere,” Norman whispered, stretching out across the couch and patting his thighs as he turned on his side and pressed himself against hte back cushions. I grabbed the throw blanket from the arm chair, wrapping the fuzzy fibers around me before spreading it out over Norman and joining him, my back pressed agains this chest as he wrapped his wide shoulders and arms around me. My head fell comfortably on his bicep underneath me and he nuzzled his nose into my hair, kissing me right behind my ear. “Mmm, this is nice.” I purred as I closed my eyes and steadied my breathing, enjoying the sensation of his arms tangled around me. “Mhmmm,” he cooed back, tightening his grip as we drifted off to sleep.

[eden-but-chaos]

!!!BIG TRIGGERWARNING FOR METIONS OF DRUGS, CHILD NEGLECT GANG ACTIVITY!!!

just dont read this i just need to put it somewhere,, im safe now, i seriously do not think the person im writing about is going to be

protip,,, dont be friends with your drug dealer... dont fucking rely on him for two years when your mum was completely gone.

HOW THE HELL did we meet in a math class??? how does that become what is happening now?

mum was never home and your company was so easy to seek out. living so close probably didnt help anything, but i needed you there. i would be dead. i seriously be dead. i was so close so so so many times. and then there you were banging on my door with a fifty for me. gatorades taste like SHIT. and mums nice hose is fucked now. there's probably a lot of gross shit in my lungs. especially from that STUPIF FUCKING HOSE PIPE I USED FOR MONTHS (i think 8?) it was always fun though. we just sit around and smoke and eat whatever shitty food i could afford with what fucking scaps of money mum left at the house when she was home (once a fuckinh week) it was nice to be able to have a spot for it lol. i still have the book we used to use to fucking roll jays in. i use it to press flowers of all things now. (got some in there at the momment for the the girl im kinda in love with who unfortunately lives on the literal other side of the world, shes great though i dunno if youd get along well with her shes more intune with my nerdy gay shit than you are,,)

the past summer. was. insane. you and her were not good together and im sorry for what happened to you in that situation.

being in the back seat of that car. at twilight. was HORRIFIC. i dont think either of you noticed that i was having a panic attack (it was my first one in months,, thanks for that) and then being stuck at that stupid fucking beach in the middle of BUTTFUCK NOWHERE with both of you fucking have a bad trip. there was NOTHING. for me to take to calm down either so i was just fucking shitting it in the car for the whole damn night. the ranger coming scared the SHIT OUT OF ME. like silence after 10 would have fucked you guys if you hadnt known. why did u cap that night??? i still dont understand. ur comedown while we were driving home the next morning was so gross. you were fucking punchjng the roof of the car!!! and the people at the truck stop were giving the three of us some very fucking weird looks. im pretty sure that if i wasnt in that car with the both of you that you would have fucking died. like literally. or fucked the car up anyway. there were so many fucking ROOS. jesus christ the kangaroos. the beach though,, god damn it was one of the most beautiful things ive seen in my life. sucks you were having a bad trip tho because the stars ended up being fucking weird for you but for me,, they were amazing. ive seen good stars before but those. those were something else. it was super fucking weird to get to it though? the beach i mean,, from where you parked anyway. if we had of turned right (like you wanted to) you would have bogged the car. which would have SUCKED. i still cant believe you dropped when we were leaving the city. that was so stupid. the drive to my old town and the place we were going was at least two and a half hours. you were fucked before we were half way there. so so so stupid. its a funny story to tell now though i guess

some time later that summer we were at the foreshore,, a little further along than were we used to go for seshing, i can't remember really what it was for? maybe for the exchange student or something. but i dont really remember honestly. (bit of a blur ironically) but anyway i remember that was the first time that i heard about this plan of yours. to move with that guy. i didnt really think much of it honestly. like i thought it was just unno spur of the momment shit,, (you were capping im pretty sure,, and i think viagra cause caps fuck up your dick lmao) but i guess not? but yeah i thought it was a load of BULLSHIT after today i guess not, six months and youre gone? seriously? im literally going to pray for you. and i dont do that very often anymore. i asked if it would be okay if i could visit. but is that a good idea? like will i even be safe? would you be able to confirm that i was gunna be safe? are you gunna be high enough up in this thing to confirm that?

ive cried for you so many times in the past, this year only a few times,, after summer when u were still super caught up in caps i was worried you were gunna get into the heavier shit (which i suppose i should be even more worried about that now) i cried a lot about that. at the ball i cried for you in the bathroom after you got kicked out. i was actually super angry about what happened that night. she seriously fucked you around which was so unfair. (i still hate her stupid fuckinh girlfriend lol shes dumb as dog shit. who the fuck is gay and an antivaxer in 2020 what kind of bullshit. shes genuinely one of the stupids cunts ive ever met) ive got a picture of me crying in the bathroom. cause i thought it was funny.

i'll remember you forever. stay as safe as possible. and hurt as few people as you can. you were a brother to me. genuinely. and ill never forget that.

i love you dude. theres always a bed at mine

[apvxoxo]

Apple Girl Pt.1

I randomly thought this up, and I actually like where this is headed more than my other story lol. Hope you guys enjoy <3

The store clerk was giving Paula a hard time again. Every time we ever went into the record store he would badger us without fail. Trying to push us to buy more than we could afford. "Sir," I shot my eyes to her in fear . She has the worst temper for a 16 year old girl. I can only imagine what she'll conjure up. "Could you please give us some space. We know what were looking for and we don't need any assistance." He eyed both of us head to toe. Putting both hands in the air in surrender, "Well I'm over here if you can't find your way"

 "Oh we will, thank you." She pushed a caustic smile at him rolled her eyes and went back to shuffling through the records.Her finger nails filed through the bin so fast her nail polish started to chip right on the edges.  

"Paula you don't think there all gone do you? I will be so devastated I just need this album I just.."

"Renee, enough. Look at me," she grabbed both of my shoulders positioning me in front of her,

"We will get it I promise. If i have to go to Jimmy Page himself. Were going to get this album." I only let out a small laugh, I felt defeated. All I wanted was the album, and I knew it would be gone by the time school was out.

" Paula what about the store on main st.? Could it be there?" She kept flicking through the music without hesitation of my inquiry.

"Renee, why don't you start looking through that box over there. Take a deep breath, and look." I scuffed my shoes on the floor slinging my arms at my side making my way over to the box. I knew it wouldn't be in there.I lazily flopped my hand onto the first record flicking it back with only one finger, nope. nope.. nope... This is hopeless.

"Paula lets just go home. I don't even want to look anymore it's just a waste of time." She sighed and rubbed her eyes with her thumb pinching the bridge of her nose in defeat.

"I can't believe you want to give up. This isn't just another album Renee this is Houses of the Holy were talking about. This is definitive of our music experience that we get this and you just want to give up?"

"Do you think I want to stop! I told you it would be sold out, I'm just as mad as you. And for the record, I'm the one who even got you into zep. So don't take this into your own hands as if you were the one who discovered them. You wouldn't even know jack shit about them if it wasn't for me."

She narrowed her eyes at me while sucking her lips in. I was defeated what can I say. It had been a long day and at the rate we were going I didn't even want to look at another bin of records ever again.

" Alright Renee. Have it your way. And next time I happen to discover something I'll be keeping it all to myself."

Not like you'll ever find something as incredible as led zeppelin.. moron

"Then you can just walk home alone! Fuck this!" She stormed out of the store pushing past customers, the old bell on the door almost fell clean off. I'm surprised the handle didn't bust. The kids stared back at me for some sort of apology, as if I was responsible for her actions. I just gave them that fake smile and slung my bag over my shoulder.

Fuck this is right.I made my way down the sidewalk avoiding all eye contact with the women who always fed the birds right on the bench near my apartment. I usually always strike conversation with her, she gives the best advice. But today, I was in no mood. It must have been at least 6:00 and I hadn't eaten since lunch, I pulled out the apple my mom insisted that I bring with me, breakfast is the most important meal of the day.I hate green apples and there was little bruises on it. I opened my mouth wide to take a bite, fuck being lady like. But my foot skid along the uneven grooves in the pavement and the toe of my shoe caught the divet where the sidewalk ends.I lunged forward just enough to toss my apple about a foot away.

"You have got to be kidding me " I leaned down to scoop the apple, I always avoided bending over on the street. You know how men can be. So I squatted down level to the apple it had rolled under the bus stop bench,

"That's weird" A snake-skin boot stood at the exact same spot ,and it was a huge boot at that. I'm not talking size 9 or 10 I'm talking at least 11..and a 1/2. Reaching my hand mindlessly under the bench a grasped the stupid apple. While sliding my hand out I accidentally swiped the boot

"Oh sorry, I'm just trying to grab something." A soft voice that sounded almost ..familiar replied. Wait, was he was British?

"That's quite alright love, what's got you on all fours down there anyway?"

I finally looked up to see who the hell was wearing snake skin boots in mid June,

"It was just this app.."

The snake skin boots, the British accent, the recognizable softness of his voice.. It can't be.

"An apple? All that for an apple huh? Must be a hungry girl." .. It was "Your.."

I had to stop while I was ahead. I couldn't let him see how starstruck I was. I would look like the million other girls. I had to stand out in some way or another. Paula always told me to act older, I still don't know what that means.

"Um yea, You know no big deal." Maybe act like I don't care? Is that what being older is like? His face grew warm and his smile grew, he patted the spot next to him on the bench.

"Would you like to sit down?"

"Oh sure, " play it cool, play it cool I moved my bag over my lap, neglecting to remember all my Led Zeppelin pins that covered it edge to edge. I scooted a comfortable distance to him as he peered down at my bag. He glared up at me without raising his eyelids.

"Nice pins. I uh, hear their alright."

The underlying tone of humor in his voice relieved some of the tension, of which I created.

"Thanks, Robert. Er..can I call you Robert?". Can I call you Robert? Was I brain dead? I guess it just felt polite.  What a great time to practice my manners. 

His eyes squinted when he laughed, and all his teeth were exposed. Oh how I loved the little chipped tooth.

"Well it is my name, I'd hope you'd call me Robert. But I guess that leaves out my introduction doesn't it? What's your name apple girl?"

"Renee," I could see the wheels turning in his head, how can I mess with her.

"Hmm I much prefer apple girl. Renee is so mundane . Doesn't really fit a girl like you, maybe a 30 year old but not quite you."

"Well, I think my mom assumed I would be 30 at one point so that's probably why she chose that name."

He laughed exposing his teeth again, and a newly discovered dimple. One deeper on the right cheek. Just one more thing to love.

"very true, but your what 18 19?" Oh shit. I can't blow this.. just lie. A little white lie wouldn't hurt, definitely not now.

“Uh yeah, 18. I just turned 18."

"Oh well, happy birthday then Renee. Perfect timing."

Jesus Christ this man had me in a trance. I wasn't even really listening to what he was saying just watching his mouth as he talked. The length of his upper lip would curl every time he spoke. I counted the times he would adjust his hair in between sentences.. 6

"Perfect timing? For what?" "Well to celebrate of course! I'm off to a party tonight and I still need someone to bring. Lucky enough I've run into you. You would like to go, yeah?"

Oh..my.. this couldn't be real. I shook off the excitement/nervousness building in my chest and conjured up an answer. "A party?.." He interrupted me,

"Well to be fair, it's much more of a get together if you like. Only a couple of people nothing crazy like the typical New York parties I'm sure your used to."

What New York parties. Hell, the best party I went to this year was my Nana's birthday and it was only fun because she got tried blowing out the candles and face planted the cake. So I'm not well versed in parties. But I couldn't turn this down. No fucking way. I'm going, Plus I could bring Paula. There is no way she could be mad at me after I tell her this.

"Well, could I bring my friend? I mean it's a bit last minute and I'd like to bring someone just in case."

"But of course, she can accompany our Jimmy over there. Have you met him? Well of course you haven't. Would you like to? Come on. He loves to meet the fans." My face was pale and expressionless, Robert got some sort of kick of seeing me so nervous. It must have been a control thing for him. I was able to hold enough composure around Robert, I can do the same for Jimmy. I hope.

"Jimmy ,c'mere someone you should meet"

 He stood with his back facing us, his black curly hair caught the almost setting sun making it look almost auburn. He was just as tall and long as I'd imagined him. He spun around balancing a cigarette in his mouth, he immediately put it out when he saw us approaching.

"Well hello there, whose this?"

Robert held me around my waist with one arm. He was nudging me forward to shake his hand, I extended it apprehensively god he was beautiful too.

"Hi Jimmy, my name is Renee. It's really nice to meet you, an honor really. I just love your music and...well thank you for everything."

He kept my hand in his and smiled, such a sweet smile. Tilting his head to the side and nodding as I spoke. An unsaid thank you. It's my pleasure darling.

Robert spoke up after the extended exchange between me and Jimmy.

" Well, that's more than I got for an introduction. Wheres my bloody thankyou!"

Jimmy lessened his hold on my hand and looked to Robert impassioned, "Robert would you leave her be. Bloody hell, have you always got to be the center of attention?"

Surprisingly I wasn't shocked by their banter. I grew up with 3 older brothers. I learned to be comfortable around boys fighting. However these weren't exactly boys. I figured I should speak up, cool the air.

"Robert, you didn't let me finish. I was going to say, thank you both for everything. Your music has really changed my life. Goodness, you should really let people finish Robert."

He bit his lower lip and looked down to his shoes. Hands on hips, like a little boy who'd just been scolded. It felt kind of nice talking to him like that. Getting through the elation barrier he created. It was quite funny seeing him flustered actually.One more dig, then I'm done

"Patience is a virtue you know."

He blew air out of his mouth, lower lip covering the top blowing the frizzy curl from his forehead. He cracked a smile and looked to Jimmy,

"So, I've invited Renee here to Richards party. I figured it was perfect since I haven't got someone to bring and she's just had a birthday."

Jimmy looked back to me grabbing my hand once more he kept his eyes closely locked on mine. Lifted my hand to his mouth and placed a soft, kinda wet if I'm honest. Kiss

"Your birthday is it. Well isn't that lovely, how old? 16?" How the fuck did he..Well I can't be too taken back. I didn't exactly pass for 18 or even 16. Hell, I still got the occasional kids menu at restaurants. I just nodded my head in a neutral rotation. But I'm sure my expression read as, of course I'm 16.Robert interrupted looking to me shaking his head brows furrowed,

"No. She's just turned 18 Jimmy. Not as young as the ones you like. And besides she's got a friend for you anyway. What did you say her name was?"

"Her name is Paula, she will be so excited to meet you guys. I should probably go and tell her actually it's getting kind of late."

Jimmy looked to me eyes squinted still smiling, "And is she 16 too then?"

"I'm not 16!" I blurted out with a whine in my voice. These boys just give it right back, they love to tease you. But I know Paula could take it. She had a way with older men. Jimmy just kept that derisive grin on his face.

"Well, it's been a pleasure Renee. Tell Paula I can't wait to meet her, if she's half the lady as you I should be delighted." He walked back to the limo that had been waiting and shimmied his skinny boy inside. Robert took me under his arm again and cleared his throat,

"Sorry about Jimmy, you know boys. Once they've see someone else have it, they've got to have it too."

"Isn't that just all kids though? Not just boys?"

"Alright, you win. All kids do that don't they. Now can we get Paula on the way or she can meet us there?"

He thought I was going with him in the limo. He thought I was 18, he thought I had it under control.

Okay that may be pushing it a little. I had to go home anyway I needed to give my mom some excuse.

"Well do you think I could swing home first I've got to get ready and..You know how us girls are."

"Oh nonsense you look divine! Just come along with us I don't want to be late. We can swing by Paula's and then off we go. See just that simple."

Just that simple.

"But Robert, I don't.. I mean I have to.." He started pulling me along toward the limo urging me to the door, "Not another word. I've had enough, your coming with me and that's that." He shoved me into the back seat with Jimmy and Jonh Bonham. I sat closest to the window dividing the driver from the backseat, what was I doing. Robert shifted his way in close to me, he placed his hand on my leg. Might I add the size of this hand.

"Alright altogether right? Wheres Paula's house we'll get her first."

"She's right off of.."

My mind trailed back into the conscious, Paula's mom would see me get out of the limo. Paula's mom would see Paula get into the limo. Well if she even got that far.

"Well go on spit it out Renee" Jimmy chimed in while lighting another cigarette

"Cat got your tongue darling?"

I got myself this far I can keep going. Just keep cool. I replied to Robert while still looking to Jimmy who was now smiling,

"No, I'm fine. She's right off of porter street I'll tell you when to stop. "

I kept my eyes to Jimmy, Jesus it seemed like some sort of initiation to give the new girl a hard time. It wasn't like I was already a nervous wreck or anything.He put the cigarette in between his lips and crossed his legs. Softly batting his eyes.

Once we pulled up to Paula's apartment I tapped on the drivers glass, It was just transparent enough that I could see the irritated glare he gave me through the rear view mirror.

"It's right here, this tan brick one here." Thank god, her mom wasn't home yet I had just enough time if I scrambled.I touched Roberts hand that was still draped over my upper thigh,

"Okay I'll be back. She might be a minute but just wait okay."

"Not too long now, we don't want to be too late. We are the life of the party you know?" I can only imagine.

I smiled while my cheeks blushed and moved out of the limo. I lightly shut the door behind me and walked steadily to the door. Slowly made my way up the steps, opened the door. And as soon as I shut it behind me, I ran like hell.

I tripped and stumbled up the flight of stairs down the hall and twice to the right. I kicked and pounded my fist onto the door. My breath panting,

"C'mon Paula please.." She opened the mail slot to see who it was, once realizing it was me,

"Go home Renee I don't want to hear it. "

"Paula open up this is an emergency"

"Your definition of emergency isn't exactly accurate Renee. What could it possibly be."

If she makes me ask one more time I'm breaking down this door. "Paula, what does 3 of the four members of Led Zeppelin are downstairs in a limousine waiting for us to go to a party with them define as?"

It was a drawn out silence until I heard the lock switch, she even had the bolt locked. 

She slowly opened the door stood in the doorway, hand on hip.

"Renee, what kind of a story.. I mean really you could just apologize you don't need to make up some lame story searching for my forgiveness."

I had no time to beat the shit out of her, I just pushed past her grabbing her arm and dragging her to the window. Both Jimmy and Robert were standing outside of the limo leaning against it. Jimmy still, cigarette in hand puffing out smoke through pursed lips,

"Look for yourself." Her eyes widened to the max, she put her hand over her mouth to muffle the scream.

"Renee! Tell me how you puled this off. What on earth are they doing here, I'm so proud of you" The rightfully deserved praise put aside, we needed to go.

"Just thank me later. C'mon Jimmy is waiting for you." She smiled and jumped in place squealing out of excitement, I grabbed her hand leading her to the door.

"Wait wait, what about Mom?"

"Forget it I'll just tell her your at my house."

"But didn't you tell the same thing to your mom?" Shit, I had left one component out of the equation. Something came over me, I didn't care, I needed to go to this party. I don't care if I never left the house again after this.It was well worth it.

"We will worry later just come on." We ran down to the lobby and looked in the mirror quickly before leaving. We looked to each other once more grabbing each others hands, lets go have the night of our lives.

We opened the door and looked to the boys still leaned against the limo arms folded.I was more desensitized to seeing them in real life. But Paula was just in the midst of the shock phase. She squeezed my hand all the way down the stairs and until we approached them. Jimmy smiled and stood up straight, Robert looked at me the whole time not taking his eyes away from mine.Jimmy flicked his cigarette and put out his hand palm facing up.

"You must be Paula, well I'm Jimmy." Paula apprehensive, placed her hand in his. Mouth slightly agape nodding her head, "Jimmy Page..Jimmy.."

He laughed a breathy laugh while putting his other hand on her forearm, he seemed to loved the girls who fawned over him. I assumed it just reminded him who he really was and what he really meant to people.

Robert was much more modest. So humble so..

"And I'm Robert, its a pleasure to meet you. And no need to thank me love. Renee has taken the liberty."

So dense.

Robert spoke up again, "Well girls let's get on then, enough of the run around yeah?" Jimmy puffed his cigarette once more before flinging open the door. Extending his arm to invite us in,first Paula then me.Robert followed sitting closest to the window Paula opposite to Jimmy and me in between them. Jimmy leaned into me softly whispering

"She's lovely. But ever so nervous, weird.." I only looked to him confused saying nothing with words, but my expression dumbfounded.I replied,

"What's weird? "You strike me as the nervous one. I guess I shouldn't be so quick to judge huh?"

He smiled again his eyelids heavy and peering down to my legs.I guess he liked more of a challenge. Which oddly, I had no problem giving it right back to him. I hope that Paula will loosen up, I'd like to divert most of my attention to Robert.

"Yeah,you know I thought you would be a lot cuter in person." He stifled his breathy laugh bringing his hand to scratch his chest, he kept his eyes on me while rubbing it

"Your nerves must have clouded your vision then yeah?"

“Maybe so Jimmy.."

Enough of this.I looked back to Robert who was fiddling with his fingernails,

"You know you shouldn't bite at your cuticles. It's really bad for your nails"

He paused to look up at me curling that side grin lips slightly puckered. He adjusted his belt buckle and extended his arm around me,

"I do a lot of things that probably aren't good for me love. I'm a big boy I can take it.But what about you? You must do something bad?"

I tried to think of something sexy to reply to that.. not a shock, I got nothing. I mean don't men like good girls anyway?

"No,nothing really. I'm pretty much a good girl." He bit at his bottom lip again. His eyes had that devious look like he is going to attack,

"A good girl huh? We'll have to fix that."

[green-violin-bow]

Niece mine

Some Mystrade fluff. Well. Pre-Mystrade-ish. The Reichenfuckening has fuckt my ability to write, but I hope you like it anyway. It’s pretty long so you can also read it on AO3. Love you guys 💜

*

24th June 2016

“Yeah, no, that’s fine, Mycroft.”

“I would appreciate it if you could involve Sherlock in the Hartingdon case, too, as there are a few aspects to it which may link to a matter we have ongoing at the moment.”

“No problem. Just send me the files, as always.”

“Thank you, Detective Inspector.”

“Greg. You know I asked you to call me Greg. And you did, for a while.”

“My apologies, Greg.”

“Alright. You know, I was wondering, we could probably – I mean, if you fancied it – we could...we could do this over dinner, sometime.”

Mycroft freezes at his desk for a moment. He’s tempted. He really is. But he can hardly look at the man. He is unreasonably attractive. If they were to blur the boundaries of their purely professional relationship by meeting on more informal terms, no matter how innocently, the...situation he finds himself in would only worsen. As it stands, the problem is manageable; his painful attraction to the silver-haired DI is bearable when parcelled out in short doses every couple of weeks.

It is kind of Lestrade to attempt to be friendly, but on this occasion, it would be counterproductive.

The man is so kind. And thoroughly admirable in every sense.

Mycroft does not look up from his paperwork.

“Thank you, Det- Greg, but unfortunately I have a lot to attend to at the moment and cannot find the time.”

*

9th July 2016

“Sherlock – no – this is impossible –”

“Hardly impossible, brother dearest. It seems to be happening already.”

“There must be someone else –”

“Nope. All away. Or dead. Some of them are dead. John and I have to go now. Important. Back soon.”

“Sherlock –”

As the car roars away, Mycroft looks down at the small human cradled awkwardly in his arms. The changing bag hangs from his shoulder, where Sherlock dumped it. Rosie blinks at him. “Christ,” mutters Mycroft.

“Er – Mycroft?” He looks up, stomach sinking. Oh, no. “What’s going on?” Greg walks up the path, casually dressed in jeans and a jumper. “Sherlock rang me half an hour ago and said ‘Mycroft needs help’. I panicked and asked him what happened to your security, whether they’d rung Anthea, but he just said ‘not that kind of help’, gave me your address and hung up on me.”

Mycroft just blinks at him. “My brother is infuriating,” he says, at last. “This must count as child neglect in the eyes of a court.”

Greg looks at him, at the awkward way he's clutching a sleepy Rosie and the changing bag. His smile is wide, dark eyes dancing with amusement. Mycroft feels his stomach twist. “You don't need help looking after this sleepy little sweetheart, do you?” Greg asks. He herds Mycroft towards the front door, which stands open behind him. They step in, and Greg closes the door. His voice and eyes are soft, focused on Rosie. “She looks like she just needs a nap.”

Mycroft sniffs crossly. “Well I do not know where she is supposed to do that safely. I have no cot here –”

“Ah, don't worry about all that,” Greg says airily. “Look at her! They can sleep anywhere, kids. She's already nearly away, just getting a cuddle from you in a corridor. Let's go and sit down somewhere, she'll be properly asleep in a minute.”

“On...me?”

“Yeah, on you. You're her uncle. You're the one who's officially looking after her.”

“Good grief,” mutters Mycroft, trying to ignore the fact that his niece has curled a tiny (probably unsanitary) fist around the knot in his silk tie. Her head lolls surprisingly heavily against his chest.

“Let me take that,” says Greg, leaning in to take the changing bag. Mycroft turns and gingerly picks his way down the corridor, every movement made careful by the knowledge of the precious human cargo he carries. He leads Greg into the kitchen-living room, and moves to the sofa.

Greg drops the changing bag on the coffee table. “Hang on –” he comes round the sofa and arranges some cushions. Carefully, Mycroft sits down, leaning back much more than he usually would in order to give Rosie a comfortable surface to nap on. Her tiny eyelids are fluttering, mostly closed but occasionally jerking open again just for a second. “She's fighting it,” says Greg, amusement evident in his voice. “She's Sherlock's daughter alright. Are you comfortable enough?”

Mycroft can feel Greg adjust one of the cushions behind him slightly. He concentrates on watching Rosie, tries not to think too much. “Quite comfortable, thank you.”

“Alright.” Greg comes back round, dropping onto the sofa and leaning forward to unzip the changing bag. “I'm gonna find her blanket. She'll find it comforting and we should probably put it under her head in case she dribbles on your fancy suit. Or throws up.”

Mycroft stiffens slightly. “Pardon?” He can't help glancing down in alarm at the tiny girl nestled against his waistcoat. “Why?”

Greg shrugs as he pulls the soft crocheted blanket out of the bag. “Not ’cause she's ill or anything. They just do. Babies, I mean. Sometimes.” He leans in, tucking the blanket gently around Rosie, slipping a layer of it between her soft cheek and Mycroft’s blue waistcoat. Her tiny hand tangles itself in the familiar-smelling fabric, and her lips purse in satisfaction.

Mycroft watches the minuscule fingers furl and unfurl in the comforting folds of the blanket.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” asks Greg.

Mycroft looks up at him, startled. “Oh – I had thought – perhaps it would be too loud?” His voice is hushed.

“Nah, I shouldn't worry,” smiles Greg. He's not making any attempt to lower his voice. “She's out for the count.”

“Oh. Then yes. I should enjoy a cup of tea.” Mycroft hesitates. “If you – I mean –”

Greg huffs a laugh. “I offered. You're a bit tied down at the moment.”

Mycroft swallows hard and tries not to watch Greg walking away in his dark navy jeans and soft charcoal jumper. It suits him, this informal weekend look. Obviously he pushed his shoes off by the front door, because he's padding around in socks. “You seem very knowledgeable about how to deal with children,” he says, by way of conversation.

Greg finishes filling the kettle and clicks it on. He turns round and leans back against the counter. “Yeah, well, my older sister started having hers when I was about twenty, so I've been around them a lot.” He takes a couple of mugs from a mug tree and searches two caddies before finding the teabags. “They're all growing up and having their own now, of course.” He opens the fridge and pours milk into one mug, then hesitates, looking over his shoulder. “You take milk in your tea, don't you?”

Mycroft nods. Greg pours some into the second mug too then searches a drawer for a teaspoon, fishes out the teabags. He walks around the central island and holds out the mugs for inspection. “They're slightly different colours, so just tell me which one you prefer.”

Mycroft picks the stronger one. Greg likes his tea strongly-brewed, but milky. Mycroft has observed him put a lot of milk in his tea before, in greasy-spoon cafes at the crack of dawn. Greg comes to settle down on the sofa next to him, leaning back against the arm, relaxed and turned sideways with one knee up. He watches Rosie sleep, and sips his tea.

Mycroft rearranges her slightly so that he can pick up his tea. She purses and pouts her lips, pulls the blanket closer to her cheek.

“She's a sweetheart,” says Greg, dreamily.

Mycroft makes a sceptical noise. “I assume that so far we have only seen her on her best behaviour.”

Greg chuckles. “You never wanted one of these, then,” he laughs.

“Neither the time nor the opportunity presented itself,” says Mycroft stiffly. “But no.” He hesitates. Perhaps he is supposed to reciprocate the question? But surely that would be indicative of a more advanced state of friendship than he and the Inspector can be supposed to have achieved?

“I always did, you know,” says Greg, musingly. Mycroft can hear a touch of sadness in his voice, and glances sharply sideways. Greg's eyes are fixed blankly on Rosie. “Emma was always – with being a teacher – the last thing she wanted to think about when she got home was kids. And then I found out she was cheating, and it definitely wasn't the time to add kids into the mix – people think it solves stuff, but it doesn't – and we'd just got back to a place where I thought we could talk about it, and then she did it again. And we broke up for a bit, and got back together...but it wasn't right anymore. We both knew it. Shoulda just moved on, of course, but –” he shrugs, sadly.

Mycroft presses his lips together and watches his niece breathe peacefully.

“Anyway, too old for all that now,” says Greg. Mycroft can hear the forced cheeriness in his voice. “Way too married to my job. Which was the problem all along, of course.”

“Well,” says Mycroft, stung, “I believe your ex wife does have to accept some responsibility for her choices.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Greg look up at him in surprise. He feels himself flush a little, and takes refuge in staring down at the baby. He sips his tea.

“I know,” says Greg. “But it was never that simple. It was both of us. I know that.”

Mycroft does not argue. He lifts one shoulder in a small shrug. “You are hardly too old to be a father, in any case.”

“Yeah, alright,” grins Greg. “I'll just meet and marry someone in under a month.”

Mycroft ignores the sinking feeling in his stomach and concentrates on watching Rosie's eyelashes flutter. “Well.” He doesn't know what else to say.

Greg sighs. “Can I ask a question?”

“Certainly, Detective Inspector,” says Mycroft, generously ignoring the fact he just has.

“Was it such a bad idea, us going out for dinner?”

Mycroft catches his breath, and hesitates. His tone is cautious. “It was...hardly necessary for us to discuss Sherlock over a meal. I do not believe he is in any danger of – problems, now that he has John and Rosie.”

Greg watches him. His gaze feels uncomfortably piercing. “Yeah...but I didn't really mean to discuss Sherlock. I meant –” he pauses. “I wanted to get to know you better. Talk about other stuff, for once. Just – you know.”

Mycroft makes a noise of surprise as Rosie wriggles in his arms and lets out a little mewl. Her eyes are half-open and she's kicking her legs. The mewl turns into a cry.

Mycroft sits up, back poker straight, and looks to Greg for help. “Er –” is all he can say.

Greg grins. “Damn. We were so peaceful there for a bit. She's probably hungry. Can I – can I have a cuddle? I'll shush her and tell you what to do with the bottle and all that.”

Mycroft leans forward, trying not to notice too much as Greg's hands touch his chest in taking Rosie from him.

“Oh, shush, sweetheart,” murmurs Greg, cuddling her close. “Hush hush.” He looks up and gives Mycroft a small smile. “Sherlock and John've left a bottle and some formula in the bag,” he says. “But you need to sterilise the bottle first.”

Mycroft tears his eyes away with difficulty. He finds the bottle and the formula, and walks to the kitchen. Greg makes an exaggerated oof noise as he gets up, muttering soft nonsense to Rosie about how heavy she is. He follows.

“So you need to thoroughly wash all the bits of the bottle with normal washing up liquid first, then rinse in cold water. But put the kettle on before you do that, ’cause you'll need to boil everything for ten minutes afterwards.”

Mycroft nods. “Is a saucepan acceptable for that?”

“Yep, that's good. And they've got liquid formula, so we don't need to worry about making it up or anything.” Rosie gives a yell and kicks in Greg's arms. “Oh, madam,” he smiles, giving her his attention again. “Are you being grumpy? I think you are. Food is coming, little one. Promise.” He starts gently bouncing on the spot, rocking her from side to side.

Mycroft sets the kettle going and looks at Greg quizzically. He nods at Greg's bouncing. “That works, does it?”

“This is my patented get-a-baby-to-sleep move,” chuckles Greg. “It's all in the bounce and rock. Just rocking never worked with my sister's kids. They'd scream right through that.”

Mycroft fills the sink and scrubs carefully at each part of the bottle. “It sounds as though you were a very diligent uncle.” He glances round and sees that Greg is looking just a little awkward.

“Well.” He looks determinedly down at Rosie. “I stayed with them for a bit, when I first started on the force. I wasn't with Emma then…Dad found out I'd been… I was in a relationship with a bloke back then, and Dad threw me out. I needed a place for a bit until I drew my first few pay cheques. Viv – my sister – took pity.” He shushes Rosie again, places a soft kiss on her forehead. “Didn't stop my Dad telling her she shouldn't let 'a man like me’ in the same house as her kids.”

Mycroft flinches, but says nothing.

“Luckily she didn't listen. And I ended up doing a load of midnight baby-soothing because I had a bad case in the first few months. Couldn't sleep much. It was...it was comforting. For me as much as for the baby.”

Mycroft rinses off the last piece of the bottle and reaches down a saucepan, then pours in water from the kettle. He sets it boiling. “Ten minutes?”

“Yep.”

Mycroft sets a timer and drops in all the pieces of the bottle. He leans back against the counter, watches Greg bouncing and rocking Rosie. “She is certainly staying quiet.”

“Only while I keep going,” grins Greg, shooting him an amused look from under his brows. “She'll scream as soon as I stop. Yes, she will,” he adds in soft baby-voice to Rosie.

“So your father…” Mycroft trails off, unsure what he had even been planning to ask.

“Oh, he came round when I ‘decided to turn normal again',” grimaces Greg. “And I quote.”

“Ah.” Mycroft isn't sure what he can say. “That is…”

“Yeah. Isn't it.” Greg looks at him, dark eyes amused. “Still, he's been dead a long time.”

Mycroft can't help a small laugh. “My apologies –”

Greg chuckles. “Really, it's fine. Bit of gallows humour helps a lot, I find. ’Specially with my job. Yours too, I imagine.”

Mycroft nods. “Undoubtedly.” He smiles cautiously at Greg, and receives a beaming grin in return. “You mentioned that you wanted to get to know me better,” he says, tentatively. “It occurs to me that being drafted in under false pretences by Sherlock to help me cope with looking after my niece goes rather above and beyond, but nonetheless…”

Greg looks at him through his eyelashes, and Mycroft's heart turns over.

“Except all I've done is talk about myself,” says Greg.

“Nonsense. You are a good detective,” says Mycroft firmly. “You have learnt, at the very least, that I have not the first idea of how to keep small humans alive.”

Greg laughs. “You'd've googled it, I'm sure.”

“I’d have googled the telephone number of a reputable childcare service,” says Mycroft fervently. “As my brother should have done.”

Greg chuckles and glances down at Rosie, strokes her cheek. “Why didn't you want a family then?” he asks, still looking down at her. “Most people do.”

“Do they?” Mycroft hears himself: too sharp, too spiky. “So many people seem to enter into it thoughtlessly. Automatically.”

Greg cocks his head at him. “Yeah. S’pose so.”

“You remain unconvinced, Inspector.”

“Please call me Greg.”

“Apologies, Greg. Yes.”

“I guess I just...you were never with anyone who wanted a family?”

Mycroft presses his lips together and shakes his head tightly. “No.” He takes a breath. “It would always have been a case of adoption or surrogacy. But in any case, it was never – never something I considered.”

Greg nods. “You're good with her though.”

Mycroft twists his lips in a wry smile. “I hardly think so, Ins– Greg.”

“Babies don't fall asleep on just anyone, you know.”

“I have visited her before. Doubtless she knows my scent.”

“She's not a dog.”

Mycroft gives a lopsided smile. “You see? I know nothing about them.”

“Circular argument.” Greg grins at him. Mycroft feels his cheeks heating and turns away at the blessedly welcome sound of the timer beeping. “Alright, you need to drain the pan and let the bits dry and cool inside it,” says Greg, back in instruction mode. He shifts Rosie in his arms as Mycroft drains the saucepan. She grumbles and lets out a squeak of annoyance. “I know, I'm sorry darlin’, but my arm was going dead,” murmurs Greg. Mycroft puts the saucepan down.

“If you want, I could take her back,” he says, diffidently.

“Nah, ’s’alright.” Greg flashes him a smile. “I'm loving the cuddles.”

Mycroft nods, trying to ignore his stomach flipping.

Greg puts his head on one side, watching Mycroft thoughtfully. “Although actually, I ought to show you the move,” he says. “So you can get her to sleep too. You won't always want me lurking around.”

Mycroft looks at the floor. “Believe me, Greg, I intend never to be left in this position again.”

Greg laughs. “Oh don't talk nonsense. Your lovely little niece deserves to know you properly.”

“Yes, as the distant purveyor of improperly expensive gifts and perhaps, when she is eighteen, a university education, or a car, whichever my brother and John decide they would rather not pay for.”

Greg gives a little snort of amusement. “He's a very silly man, Rosie,” he murmurs to the baby. “He thinks he can get away without changing your nappies and feeding you and dealing with your screaming, but he is wrong. Isn't he? Yes, yes he is. That's what uncles are for.” He grins up at Mycroft. “Come here.”

Mycroft rolls his eyes, but steps a little closer nonetheless. Greg gently gives him Rosie, who screws up her face and gives a preparatory shriek. “Greg –” Mycroft protests.

“Stop it,” says Greg. “If you don't try you won't learn.”

Mycroft frowns crossly at him, which just makes Greg chuckle harder. Rosie flails her tiny fists and gives another grizzling yell.

“Okay, pull her up against your chest like that,” says Greg, his hand gentle on Mycroft's arm. He moves round next to Mycroft, who tries not to concentrate on how close their bodies are, how he can feel Greg's warmth next to him. Greg must be resting his other hand on the counter behind them. “Now rock her from side to side – I sort of just twist from the waist, but it's up to you –” Greg pushes Mycroft gently. “And then I add the bounce in once I've got the rhythm,” says Greg softly, staring down at Rosie. She grizzles some more.

“She doesn't like it,” says Mycroft, frustratedly. “You should –”

“Just keep going,” says Greg. His hand is still on Mycroft’s arm. “It'll take her a bit to get used to it. I'm going to put the formula in the bottle.” He crosses to the stove and starts putting the bottle together.

Sure enough, at last, Mycroft finds a rhythm of bouncing and rocking that seems to please Rosie. She yawns and lets her eyelids droop a little. “I think she's going to go to sleep before we can feed her,” says Mycroft. He's astonished at his own voice: tender, almost. He presses his lips together and closes his eyes for a few seconds.

He opens them to find Greg watching him, eyes dark and wide. “Nah, look how hard she's fighting it,” he grins. “She knows what she wants.” He's emptied the carton of liquid formula into the bottle and now he shakes it at them. “Go and sit back on the sofa and you can feed her.”

Mycroft blinks at him, but sets off carefully to the sofa. He settles himself back where he was before. Greg drapes the blanket around Rosie again, especially around her face. “Just in case,” he smiles. “Here.” He holds out the bottle. “You'll be surprised by how strongly she'll drink it. Hold onto the bottle well.”

Mystified, Mycroft takes the bottle and gingerly advances the teat to Rosie's lips. Immediately, her little fists flail and come up to pull the bottle closer; her tiny lips close around it, and the bottle shifts in his hand as she starts to suck. Powerful indeed. His eyebrows fly up and he can't help a surprised huff of laughter. Greg laughs too, and Mycroft glances up to him.

“She's so strong,” says Mycroft.

“Yep. Determined,” grins Greg, coming to sit down on the sofa. “A real little Watson. And Holmes, come to that.” He laughs. “She'll be both officially, after the wedding. Guess we know who'll be looking after her on the day.”

“Yes. Mrs Hudson will oblige, I am quite sure,” says Mycroft, firmly.

“Spoilsport.” Greg nudges Mycroft's leg with his toes. “Mrs Hudson'll want to dance with her new boyfriend, anyway. He's invited, apparently. Sherlock hasn't been able to deduce anything awful about him yet.”

Rosie takes a gasping little breath and pushes at the bottle. Mycroft's stomach plummets and he pulls the bottle out of her mouth. “Greg – was it too much? Is she choking?”

Rosie grumbles and waves her fists, shrieks grumpily. She smacks her lips.

“What? No! Mycroft, chill out, she was just having a breather.” Greg reaches over and puts his hand over Mycroft’s on the bottle. “She's cross now ’cause she wants her lunch back.”

Mycroft tries to regulate his breathing. His heart is hammering in his chest. Greg doesn't remove his hand from over Mycroft's. Rosie resumes sucking at the bottle with gusto.

“Sorry –” Mycroft stops talking, shrugs slightly.

“Terrified you're gonna kill her? Yeah, yeah, I get it. But you won't. You're a smart man, Mycroft Holmes.” Greg's fingertips graze gently over the back of Mycroft's hand as he withdraws his own. He gives Mycroft a soft, slightly sad smile.

Mycroft does not understand. “So you will be...at the wedding?” he asks tentatively.

“Yeah, they asked me along,” returns Greg. “Just got to hope no-one gets murdered on the day. I assume you will be too?”

“Sherlock did eventually tell me I was invited, yes,” says Mycroft wryly. “Under pressure from John, I have no doubt.”

Greg grins. “Don't listen to the silly bastard,” he grins. “He loves you really. Oh god, sorry Rosie,” he adds. “Forget you heard that.”

Mycroft gives a little smile. “I am fairly sure she will have heard worse at Baker Street.”

“Oh, probably,” says Greg. “Off the clients, if no-one else.” He sighs. “At the wedding, we could –” he hesitates, flicks his glance up to meet Mycroft's, “sit together, maybe. Keep talking. About stuff that's not Sherlock.”

Mycroft straightens his back a little. Rosie finishes the bottle and gives a couple of extra sucks, then crossly pushes it out of her mouth. Mycroft puts it on the coffee table. Greg leans over and takes the blanket. “Give her here,” he says. “I'll burp her. Since all my clothes probably cost the same as one of your socks.” He grins, spreading the blanket carefully over his shoulder and partway down his back.

Mycroft passes her over, and Greg sits up very straight, patting Rosie on the back.

Mycroft stretches. “I assume that the seating plan will control our placement,” he says, cautiously. “I understood from Sherlock that you are dating ‘an extraordinarily attractive brunette forensics officer, easily of childbearing age’. He texted me on Monday to tell me this. I am unsure why. I assume that she will be present.”

Greg's eyes are wide. “What? Penny and I went on one date a few weeks ago, but I didn't want to take it any further.” He pauses. “She was nice and everything, I just –” he gestures with the hand he's using to pat Rosie on the back. “It wasn't – she's a bit younger, and we're in different places. In our lives, I mean. Anyway, it's not like you care. Sorry. I'll shut up. I mean for god's sake, Sherlock. Why's he telling you that stuff.” He subsides into silence, and Rosie hiccups into his shoulder.

Mycroft's stomach is inexplicably tying itself in knots. “Forgive me, Greg, but surely – for a family – you would need to…” he swallows against his own awkwardness. “A younger partner would of course be necessary,” he says, cheeks tinting a little pink.

Greg stares at him as if he's gone mad. “Well, yeah, but I'm way past the age where I could even think about all that. Not a chance. And anyway.” He stops, then rolls his eyes. “Fuck it – sorry Rosie – I mean. Part of the reason why I didn't want to –” he sighs. “We had a lunch date, and it was...I mean, it was going pretty well. I'd taken the afternoon off so I didn't have to rush, and she ended up asking if I wanted to go for a cocktail afterwards, and we did, and –” he clears his throat slightly. “Well, we were quite near her place. And it was pretty clear, you know, it was on the cards that...yeah. But then my phone reminded me we had a catch-up meeting planned after work, you and me I mean, and – and I didn't want to cancel it. I really didn't want to cancel it. So I said a work thing had come up, and then I went and had a coffee near your building, and then I went to see you.”

Greg flicks his gaze up to meet Mycroft's. Mycroft is baffled. He doesn't know what to say.

“Which...I mean, it wasn't a great sign. For me and her, I mean,” says Greg, drily. “Didn't seem right to lead her on, after that, really.”

“My apologies, Greg,” says Mycroft. “I am not sure I have understood your meaning.”

Greg sighs. “What's the point of having a brain the size of a planet?” he asks, with a wry smile.

“Composing lullabies,” murmurs Mycroft.

Greg's grin is unrestrained this time. “Boredom.” He chuckles. “Nah. I mean – I was pretty much guaranteed a shag, but I just wanted to come and see – well. You. What does that tell you?”

Mycroft stares at him, blankly. His mind seems to have shut down. “So when you asked me to dinner –”

Greg looks at him, nonplussed. “What did you think I was asking? I wanted a date. I wanted to go out and have fun, like I just had with someone else, only I wanted it to be you, so I didn't end up just wanting to see you instead at the end of the night.”

Mycroft blinks, slowly. He knows he ought to say something, but he can't possibly think what.

“So when you turned me down,” says Greg, cautiously, “you perhaps didn't actually know you were turning down the offer of a date?”

“Er,” says Mycroft. He looks down at his hands, tangled in his lap. “In fact I did not.”

Greg lets out a breath. “Oh. Right. So...if you did know...I mean – you know now, so – would your answer still be no? Or…”

Mycroft clears his throat, feels his cheeks turn pink. “Or.”

“Oh. Oh,” Mycroft can hear the smile in Greg's voice. “Right.” Greg shuffles forward, so their knees are touching. “When?”

“Before the wedding, perhaps,” says Mycroft, tentatively, glancing up to see Greg's reaction. He grins.

“Well of course before the wedding,” he says. “The wedding’s three weeks away yet. I meant like – tomorrow?”

Mycroft can't help smiling. “Very well.”

“Yeah?” Greg pushes their knees together. “Alright.” He sniffs, suspiciously. “By the way, your niece has celebrated the occasion by making sure you're about to find out what it's like to change a nappy.”

Mycroft freezes. “Er.” He looks up at Greg. “You could show me –”

Greg chuckles. “Not a chance. I'll tell you what to do, from a safe distance. With a peg on my nose.”

Mycroft rolls his eyes.

But he can't stop smiling, anyway.

@consultingpurplepants @artfulinanities @tardisqueen13 @lockedinjohnlock-podfics @andithoughtiwasspecial @alexxphoenix42 @msdisdain @laughing-at-the-darkness @beardchr @missmuffin221  @totallysilvergirl  @gryssenielsen @butterflygrl62  @lmirandas  @chinike @johnandsherlock @geometry4 @caffeinatedravenclawcompanion @yume-chaaan @mayidrawyourattentionto @aquabelacqua @apismel1fera @daringlydomestic @my-johnlocked-life @beejohnlocked @hushwatson @narwhalneerdowell @vedjagames @bitemebat @sumeragisakura @carryonmywaywardbabes @franzthecat @johnlockhedgehog149 @johnlockishell @monikakrasnorada @iamjohnlocked4life @patlabel @ishipitlikefedps @marchinaugusta @disregardedletters @missdeliadili@roquentine19 @greymantledlady @alexaprilgarden @theragesniff @forloveofsnarry @kalina-lupus-ionescu  –

[knightdreams-blog1]

REALLY  LONG  CHARACTER  SURVEY. 

RULES.  repost ,   don’t  reblog  !    tag  10  !good  luck  ! TAGGED ☆ . by no one i have no friends TAGGING. @codechivalric​ :3c

BASICS.

FULL  NAME :  Sakuma Ritsu (朔間凛月) NICKNAME :  Ritchii, Ritchan, Rittsu, Kuma-kun, Sakuma’s little brother AGE :  17 BIRTHDAY :  09/22 ETHNIC  GROUP :  japanese NATIONALITY : japanese LANGUAGE / S : japanese SEXUAL  ORIENTATION :  pan ROMANTIC  ORIENTATION : pan RELATIONSHIP  STATUS :  single HOME  TOWN / AREA :  japan, undisclosed region CURRENT  HOME : average middle class house, residing with parents and older brother PROFESSION :  high school student / idol

PHYSICAL.

SKIN : paler than the average japanese male, soft, but prone to coldness EYES:  crimson red; half-lidded eyes FACE :  small chin, slightly puffy cheeks on some days, but mostly has a slim face LIPS :  thin lips COMPLEXION : even with his bad self-care habits, his skin stays smooth and clear nonetheless. he claims it’s a ‘vampire’ trait. BLEMISHES :   none SCARS :  none TATTOOS :  none HEIGHT :  170cm WEIGHT :  54kg BUILD :  seemingly thin build, but is well built. he has abs?? i don’t know either, man. his arms look squishy tho FEATURES : they’re not noticeable, but he has a pair of ‘fangs’. they’re really just sharper teeth than the average kind. ALLERGIES : none USUAL  HAIR  STYLE :  medium-length straight black hair, often somewhat tousled up and unkempt, but never too messy. has a flick of hair that sticks out most of the time. USUAL  FACE  LOOK :  sleepy eyes with a touch of mischievousness every now and then USUAL  CLOTHING : sloppily put together, whether missing the button of a shirt or even neglecting to button all the way. he wears a grey sleeveless sweater over his white short sleeved dress shirt, along with his regular yumenosaki academy blazer

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR / S :  get waken up abruptly, garlic, abandonment, everyone around him changing ASPIRATION / S :  live a peaceful life. not many aspirations, goes with the flow POSITIVE  TRAITS : attentive, calm, observant, playful, quick-witted (when he wants to be), cooperative (on a good day) NEGATIVE  TRAITS :  lazy, generally unhelpful, unsociable, petty, spoiled, selfish MBTI : INTP-A ZODIAC : virgo TEMPEREMENT :  phlegmatic SOUL  TYPE / S :  thinker ANIMALS :  mole VICE  HABIT / S :  prone to want to suck blood, sleeping anywhere and anytime FAITH :  doesn’t have a strong devotion, but probably a lowkey nihilist or something GHOSTS ? :  yeah he likes scaring others with ghost stories AFTERLIFE ? :  yes REINCARNATION ? : yeah probably ALIENS ? :  leo says aliens abducted him, but he doesn’t really feel too strong about the idea of it. so who cares really POLITICAL  ALIGNMENT :  who cares EDUCATION  LEVEL :  he’s a 2nd year, but would have been a 3rd year if he didn’t sleep so much and skip school all the time. the grades on his paper would look a lot better, too

FAMILY.

FATHER :   not much is known. idk what to tell you. does he love him? is he even there? sakuma dad can you hear m MOTHER :   IDK MAN WHAT EVEN IS THE SAKUMA FAMILY SIBLINGS :  an older brother who took a form of an annoying bug EXTENDED  FAMILY :  n/a NAME  MEANING / S :     凛月 means cold moon HISTORICAL  CONNECTION ? :   no one significant but he’ll probably say vampires

FAVORITES.

BOOK :  vampires, gothic lore, mythology, edgy fantasy titles MOVIE :   probably either psycho or dracula 5  SONGS :  his king’s compositions. both for practice and because he really does like them. he’ll also deny it if you ask, but he listens to his brother’s songs every now and then, too DEITY :  none HOLIDAY :  halloween MONTH :  october SEASON : lazy summers PLACE : anywhere quiet WEATHER :  cloudy, maybe even a somber drizzle SOUND :  rain hitting on the window, peace and quiet SCENT / S :  blood, anzu, maakun TASTE / S :  blood, anzu’s blood mostly FEEL / S :  blades of grass brushing against his skin, wearing his eyemask, and the SWEET EMBRACE OF  D E A  T H ANIMAL / S :  cats NUMBER :  13.   friday the 1 3 t h COLORS :  red, black and silver

EXTRA.

TALENTS : sleeping anywhere. anytime. making delicious sweets BAD  AT :  social interaction TURN  ONS :  biting probably. and bdsm LOL TURN  OFFS :  he doesn’t even care he’ll roll with anything.    stop him HOBBIES :   sleeping, making sweets, being a pain for mao TROPES :  the nicknamer, man child, brilliant but lazy, chuunibyou, sweet tooth, clingy boyfriend, sleepyhead QUOTES :   “You disturbed my sleep. Just when I was having such a nice nap, too."; “Fuaah... Good night~ ....Whaat? Don't talk to me. You see, I'm sleepy in the afternoon.”

MUN QUESTIONS.

Q1 :   if  you  could  write  your  character  your  way  in  their  own  movie ,   what  would  it  be  called ,  what  style  would  it  be  filmed  in ,  and  what  would  it  be  about ?           A1 :   a modern silent film, maybe? he’s too lazy to act and be a prominent role in a movie, so it’d probably be one of those weird art films that don’t make any real sense but you just go with it. probably have some underlying dark and scary visuals, so it could pass as a type of classic horror film Q2 :   what  would  their  soundtrack / score  sound  like ?           A2 :   ok if it wasn’t a silent film his score would just be anything that leo composed because his leader makes Good Music Q3 :   why  did  you  start  writing  this  character ?           A3 :  cause i was like. chris if you make izumi i’ll make ritsu and here i am Q4 :   what  first  attracted  you  to  this  character ?           A4 :   he was my starter card, actually! and i just really love his sleepy aestheticcc its so #Relate Q5 :   describe  the  biggest  thing  you  dislike  about  your  muse.           A5 :   he’s a piece of shit but i actually love that so that doesn’t count.    hmhm he’s really immature, and as a character, it’s good, but i don’t really like clingy people so Q6 :   what  do  you  have  in  common  with  your  muse ?           A6 :   sleeping 24/7 and being petty Q7 :   how  does  your  muse  feel  about  you ?           A7 :   idk he probably doesn’t care Q8 :   what  characters  does  your  muse  have  interesting  interactions  with ?         A8 :   rei! he used to have a good relationship but. what happened that made  him so bitter and petty jfc. i also want more interactions with him and 2wink, especially since they’re rei’s kids and all Q9 :   what  gives  you  inspiration  to  write  your  muse ?         A9 :   idk being a piece of shit.    like all my other muses i just wanna bother people Q10 :   how  long  did  this  take  you  to  complete ?           A10 :   a while jesus christ why is this like. my first post idk man but i love ritsu so