#like when I wanted cottage living real bad for the bunnies but there were SO MANY bugs 😔

[imwritesometimes]

like.... I need everyone to understand that I watched this like 4 second clip eleven billion times

[karnakthegreat]

Right. Here’s your karnak lore

Before we get into it this is me and my kids

And this is my petition to be the tumblr sexyman of 2023

We also have a company (not real) called RTC RP CO™️. @brunos-rat is second in command, @anony-knifey is head of fanfics and @justexistinghere122 is the lore master and Foreigner relationships Minister. I am the Bossnak. If you want a position send in what you want to be in the asks and we can go from there

I have two mothers. They both raised me in England in the north. I lived in a small cottage in the middle of no where with a farm behind it. It was about a 30 minute walk from the closest village. There was also a forest close to my back yard

Threw out my childhood I was homeschooled by my mothers (one of which was very into the occult while the other was very ‘cottagecore’)

I joined mainstream schooling when I was 11. By the time I was 13 I realised I wasn’t straight OR cis by any means. So I went from cis straight female to genderfluid polyamorous bisexual in a matter of a few months. I was also in a band for a short period of time but that was very short lived

On my first day of school I became good friends with a girl called Elizabeth. She collected haunted dolls and we bonded over my doodles werewolf and vampire erotica

In my teen years I began to enjoy the occult so I began doing tarot card reading with my friends. That was when I also found myself enjoying metal and ‘emo’ music

I then became friends with a student from Ukraine who moved to the UK for a bit called Tamara. She later moved to Canada and then back to Ukraine

Towards the end of my schooling my friends and I decided to play a prank on some of my teachers. We got puppy’s,kittens and bunny’s and let them out in the middle of lessons to distract everyone

After this I moved back in with my two mothers

I then began dating Elizabeth (we broke up later on because she shipped me and Virgil and called us Kargil)

Then came the first whipped cream incident. This was when myself, Elizabeth and Tamara tried to fill a swimming pool with it when we were 16. We were unsuccessful

We soon went on a family trip to Canada to a small town called Uranium to meet up with some family friends. We went to the Blackwood Cafe and there I met Virgil

I was sitting alone while my parents were shopping. I eventually got hungry so I went to buy myself some cake. He offered to buy it and I denied however they insisted that they buy me it.

Shortly after I got back to my original seat and he joined me with a shortbread cookie that they had bought for me. He then began asking me about the book I was reading (Pride and Prejudice) and we had a very good conversation over it

We saw each other again at the ‘fall fair’ and he suggested we ride the cyclone. I said no because it gave a bad vibe so instead we went on the Ferris Wheel and then played some games. Virgil won me a teddie bear

Eventually I had to leave so he gave me his email and address so I could contact them either way

We would email every day and they told me how they were very impulsive and had a very big family. I told him that I always wanted to go to Ukrainian, Amsterdam or France.

After a while we met up again in Canada. We planned it in advance and when we met we realised we were in love. I spent the entirety of my visit with him. He showed me his home, his family and even his bass guitar.

On our 4th date he played the bass and sang some songs to me. They were country songs. That was when my mild country faze started. I learned some songs and sang him Dolly Parton to try impress him

When I went back to England they planned on coming back over to see me very soon. He took a liking to England and asked if he could move in with me. Of course I said yes and soon we both lived together in our own English farm

Then there was ‘The Great Ah Fuck’. This was when Elizabeth accidentally let slip that Virgil wanted to propose. Tamara then made the first ever version of my emergency knockout drink, gave me it and then I forgot the past 24 hours so the proposal would be a surprise. It was called ‘The Great Ah Fuck’ because when Elizabeth let it slip both her and Tamara said ‘Ah fuck’.

Virgil proposed to me on Halloween.

The night before my wedding was the second whipped cream incident. This was when they covered me in whipped cream and rolled me down a hill. Virgil had to catch me at the bottom to stop me from getting concussed

Then got married. It was a quiet wedding on our farm with our close friends and family.

At our wedding I walked down the isle to La Vie en Rose and Uranium suite was our first dance song (there was a version we made that was mainly the melody and riding the rollercoaster was a metaphor for our love)

Quite a bit of our time was spent with my telling them about my hyperfixations. They were Rammstein, the occult, Romeo and Juliet, A midsummers nights dream, Ukrainian history and culture, German history and culture, knitting and Phantom of the Opera

Yes I had a musical faze Phantom of the opera will never die fight me my favourite songs were masquerade and think of me they are beautiful

A few years later we had our first child Ophelia. Soon after came sister Nancy and then their brother Jacob. Ophelia was very kind and always wished the best for people, Nancy always wanted to stand up for what she thought was right and Jacob always wanted to be involved in everything I did. Their birthdays (in name order) were October 25th, January 15th and February the 26th. And between you and me Ocean is also one of my biological kids. She was about 1 when I got turned into a machine so I had to adopt her to re-get her as a child now.

They all loved me and their father very much and life was perfect.

I regained my interest with the occult and began doing research. I learnt lots but I wanted to know more and more

To feed my hunger for knowledge I summoned a demon to teach me the secrets of the world. The demon taught me THE LANGUAGE OF THE ANCIENTS

The demon then thought I was getting too power hungry so as punishment it wanted to turn me into a machine. The commotion caused Virgil to hear as he ran upstairs and got caught in the crossfire and became a rat. I never learnt what happened to my children…

I lost all of my memories and eventually found myself meeting Virgil for what I thought was the first time but was actually the second behind a Tesco express. Eventually we began to fall in love again. And so we traveled to Uranium with a circus

We stuck threw it all together and after the Cyclone Accident we got transported to limbo. There we regained our memories of our past life.

While in limbo we adopted Noel Jane and Ocean (and recently Ava) as they reminded us of our children.

When Mischa first came to Canada I payed for all of his medical bills and tied a welcome home balloon to his bed. This is because when I was close with his mother her and I promised that should anything happen to us the other would look after our children.

Noel taught me more about French culture (something that I wasn’t that fond of as I found it too complicated) however afterwards I soon began to love it.

I’ve adopted Mischa. He’s my son and I love him

I found out Ophelia is alive and well…very happy

At 00:21 on the 31st of October 2022 UK time I became human once again

Turning me human wiped ocean of any memories of me. Oh and just found Nancy she doesn’t trust me or believe that I’m her dad. Working on that

I agreed to turn back into a robot to save Nancy and oceans memory’s

Then I became a robot again. Stefan was being a total bitch until one of my kiddos made him change me back

And now I’m human…again

Then I had an uwu faze yeah that was weird

And now I’m going full dilf mode

Ștefan is now in love with me and profusely flirting

I have also met the cyclone they’re very nice and part of the family now

We found Jacob and now I’m so happy

Oh and the demon is moving in

And now I’m here. Adopting more and more children. I will pin this post and add things as and when (I’ll let you all know when I add things) Any questions?

[kalaluchi]

chapter 03: Game Night

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Marinette found that she could say no to a lot of things.

She could say no to Chloe’s attempts to give her a makeover, she could say no to Kim’s challenges to a 50-meter freestyle race, she could say no to Nino’s invites to a movie screening with a bunch of friends. (Especially on a school night. Waaaay too much work to be done, sadly.)

And usually, usually, she could say no to her best friend Alya’s elaborate schemes.

But apparently not when it was disguised as a harmless game night with some of their classmates.

And definitely not when her best friend got her super ultra crush, the gorgeous Adrien Agreste, to be the one to invite her.

“Hey, Marinette,” he said, walking up to her one day. “I heard from Nino that Alya’s planning a game night this weekend. A sort of class bonding activity, I’m guessing. Seeing as you’re Alya’s best friend, I take it that means you’ll be there, right?”

Marinette suddenly wanted to strangle said best friend. Alya most definitely did not say anything about a game night the last time they talked. This invitation reeked of “Alya Césaire’s Half-Brilliant Plan #143” or whatever the brunette liked to call them. Marinette was fairly sure her best friend would try to pull something to get her and Adrien together.

(Not that she was complaining. She appreciated it, of course, but one still had to be wary when dealing with the great fairy godmother Alya Césaire.)

But more importantly-- how dare Alya not warn her that Adrien would talk to her that day. Then Marinette could’ve at least worn the new top Alya had said looked cute on her.

“Uh,” Marinette hedged, trying to come up with a reasonable excuse to avoid all embarrassment , “I’m actually not sure if I can be there since I have… things… to do. I also have...stuff.” She gulped. “Yup, that’s… that’s what keeps me busy… things and...stuff.” She smacked herself internally.

“Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to seeing you there. I heard you’re a master at board games.” He chuckled, and, no, Marinette’s heart did not flutter and her cheeks didn’t burn at the sound. “But I get what you mean about… things… and stuff. Life of the busy, eh? Try to take breaks when you work, though, ‘kay? Good luck with… things and stuff. Uhm, see you around, Marinette!”

Marinette forced a smile as he turned away. Don’t cave, it’s for your own good, don’t cave, don’t cave, don’t--

“But!” Marinette added suddenly, causing Adrien to turn back in surprise. “If that’s the case, I mean, psh, what’s one weekend, right? I could… probably push my schedule back a bit, have some fun for once. I think I deserve this,” she said firmly, talking mostly to herself.

Adrien grinned, and her heart skipped a beat at the way his eyes shone with excitement. “That’s good to hear! I agree, you deserve this break. See you Saturday night, then!”

With that he walked away, leaving Marinette imagining that he’d said those words in the context of a romantic first date, perhaps a candle lit dinner after a cheesy film, and not in the context of a seemingly harmless game night where she was almost sure her luck would abandon her only for the fates would laugh in her face.

.

.

.

Alya told everyone the game night would start at 8pm. Naturally, this meant Marinette had to be at Alya’s place at 7:30pm, helping set up.

“So, what game are we playing,” Marinette asked, trying for a nonchalant tone as she opened a bag of chips.

Alya laughed aloud. “Ha! Nice try, Mari. But no spoilers. You’ll find out at the same time as everyone else. Now can you pass me those vases? I’m betting Kim’s gonna knock them over if we don’t put them away.”

Marinette handed them over with a sigh. “Okay, that’s fair. But I already know you’re up to something. Isn’t it just easier to tell me your plan so I can mentally prepare for it? Who knows, I might even choose to play along.”

“Plan…? I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Alya turned away, but not before Marinette caught the mischievous gleam in her best friend’s eyes.

She was about to press further, when there was a knock on the door. “Yo, Alya!” Nino’s voice. “Open up, will ya?”

“Coming!” Alya shouted back, carefully stepping around the pillows she’d set up on the floor. Just like that, the matter was dropped as the guests started pouring in.

There were about 10 of them, all talking lively as they sat on the floor around a table. Marinette started passing around bowls of chips while her best friend got the stuff for the games from her room. She tried to hold on to one last bowl though, eyeing the pillow-seats at the far end of the room and trying to come up with an excuse to go over there and hand Adrien the bowl herself.

She was halfway there when Alya suddenly appeared. “Esteemed guests!” she announced in a loud voice. “I have, behind my back, the game we will play tonight. We’ll be playing--” She paused for dramatic effect, making sure everyone’s eyes were on her. “-- the Modified Game of Life, aka Game of Life: Alya Césaire edition!”

Marinette inwardly groaned, her own plan forgotten. Handing the bowl of chips to a seated Juleka, she made her way to a pair of empty seats in one part of the room -- one for her, one for Alya of course. Despite her initial want to approach Adrien that night, a part of her told her she should be grateful she wasn’t seated next to him.

“Alright, everyone, settle down!” Alya said, obviously excited to be facilitating. She took her place next to Marinette and grinned. She moved to open the box… and paused. And looked around the room as if deep in thought. “Actually,” she said, “I kind of want to sit beside my boyfriend.”

Marinette’s eyes widened, knowing where this was going. “Alya,” she hissed, “don’t you dare--”

“Adrien!” the brunette called across the room. “I was wondering if I could sit beside Nino, but I don’t want everyone to move one seat up just for me. Is it ok with you if we switch places?”

“Sure,” the blond said easily, getting up.

All Marinette could do was open and close her mouth as her best friend gave her a wink and a squeeze of the hand. “Good luck!”

Luck? Why would Marinette need luck?

“Hey,” Adrien greeted as he sat down beside her. “You ever played this game before?”

“No,” Marinette said through gritted teeth, “I actually have not.”

“Ah. Me neither, of course. May the best… Life-er win, I guess?”

Despite her apprehensions about the game, Marinette had to laugh. “May the best Life-er win!”

The first few rounds, Marinette had to admit the Alya Césaire edition was pretty fun. Instead of the careers you might normally see in the game (doctor, engineer, accountant, etc.), this one had all sorts you could pick and choose from. 30 minutes into the game, Marinette was quite satisfied with her life as a professional fashion designer who lived in a 3.5 story all-pink cottage-house with her pet ladybug, turtle, bunny, cat, horse, and snake, and who loved to fight crime in her spare time.

Naturally, that was when everything went wrong. Okay… not everything. And not wrong, if Marinette had to be honest. But still.

Of course it was Adrien’s turn to draw a card (right after Marinette got her fifth paycheck. Score!). And of course it was one of those marriage cards. But with a twist. Of course.

“Congratulations!” Adrien read aloud. “You’re married to the love of your life, the person on your right. Collect 2000 for your honeymoon.” He turned to the right, where Marinette was staring straight ahead, stiff as a board, trying not to let the blush on her cheeks spread.

So that’s what Alya meant when she said good luck-- good luck, I hope Adrien picks up the marriage card. She turned to her in-game husband, and forced a smile. “Woah, look at that. Married. Fun.”

“Uh, Adrien,” Alya called out. “I think there’s an additional note at the bottom.”

“Huh, you’re right.” He read it silently, then chuckled. “It says, ‘call your new wife ‘babe’ to get another 500.’” He grinned at the blue-haired girl. “What do you say, babe? Do you want to live the rest of our lives together?”

The only thing Marinette wanted at that moment was to melt into her shoes from embarrassment, but instead she managed to force out a, “Sure thing. Babe.” For a second Adrien looked shocked, and she thought she saw a light dusting of pink on his cheeks. But then he laughed and it was gone.

Which obviously left Marinette wondering whether she imagined it or not. So much so that she lost focus on the game until it was her turn again. And just like real life, the game proved yet again to be full of surprises.

She began to read aloud, “Woo-hoo, you got kids! Spin the wheel to find out by how many your family has grown. Married? Get more people pegs to put in the car you share with your spouse. Unmarried? Get more pet pegs to put in your car, and maybe some doggy wipes while you’re at it.” She spun the wheel. Three.

“Perfect,” Adrien said good-naturedly, reaching for the bag of pegs. “I’ve always wanted three kids. What’ll it be? All boys? All girls? Two boys, one girl? Vice versa?”

Marinette mumbled something under her breath, trying to fight back a blush.

“Hm?”

“Y-you can choose,” she stammered. “I, uh, I think I want more… food.” She turned away, pretending to scan the room. It was only half an excuse. She really had wanted something 10 minutes ago, but she couldn’t at the moment remember what.

“You want popcorn? It’s right--” Adrien stopped abruptly, caught off guard to find himself nearly nose-to-nose with Marinette.

How cliché. Horribly, horribly, absolutely cliché. Marinette felt her face heat up, though she was frozen in place.

“Honey,” she breathed out, finally remembering what she’d wanted to get. Honey to go with the cereal in her bowl.

“Yes, honey?” Adrien replied without missing a beat. “What was it you wanted?”

“Uh, n-no, not, no, I meant,” Marinette sputtered, unable to finish a coherent sentence for a full 10 seconds. She was pretty sure her face was beet red, right down to her neck. She cleared her throat, and stood up. “I’m gonna go look for the honey,” she said, praying he didn’t notice her blush.

Well played, Alya. Well played. From then on Marinette swore to never go near a Game of Life again.

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[alternateafterthought]

Golden Time - Part 17

> Pairing: Hybrid Jeon Jungkook x Reader

> Summary: Y/N has been rescuing and recovering hybrids her entire life. Now she has inherited her grandparent’s hybrid sanctuary. It was a normal rescue, get the hybrid, recover him and give him a choice, stay on the sanctuary or find a life for himself. Why was this one so different?

> Genre: Hybrid!au, romance, smut, angst, fluff

> Warnings: Nipple play, multiple orgasms, minor biting, dirty talk, oral (male and female receiving), fingering, handjob

> Word Count: 4084

> A/N: Hey guys... here it is,,, the final part of my Jungkook hybrid fic!! I would really like to thank everyone for reading it! I also want to thank you for supporting it and liking it!! I should give a special shout out to @ariana-winchester95 and @haven-raven012591 especially for being beta readers and for helping me come up with ideas and even helping me to write some parts of it!! Seriously you two are massive reasons I even finished this fic!! I really hope you enjoy this last part!! Thank you so much for your support!!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8] [Part 9] [Part 10] [Part 11] [Part 12] [Part 13] [Part 14] [Part 15] [Part 16]

Welcoming Jungkook’s parents’ home was one thing. Making out on the kitchen counter with Jungkook and having his parents walk in was another. Honestly, one doesn’t belong with the other and truthfully, Y/N would never have stopped Jungkook from taking her on the kitchen counter. Though out of respect for his parents, Y/N could control herself.

She didn’t know about Jungkook though.

A week after his parents had come to live with them, Jungkook had become so much more. Touchier, his hands constantly on Y/N, holding her to him, rubbing his chin and face over any inch of her he could touch. The quicker circles he made around Y/N had almost tripled since she had gotten home form the hospital, even his parents commented on it.

Well his mother had commented on it, given Y/N advice, even asked Y/N if it would be a good idea for herself and his father to give them some privacy.

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s mother spoke softly while they both stood in the kitchen cooking, Jungkook and his father in the living room out of ear shot.

“Yes ma’am?” Y/N stopped cutting vegetables as she looked at her.

“Please Y/N, you don’t have to call me ma’am.” She smiled like only a mother can before bumping her hip softly against Y/N. “Call me, Mum, Mama, or anything else please.”

Y/N still wasn’t exactly used to it. Jungkook’s mother and father had completely welcomed her into their little family, claiming her as their daughter who was mated to their son. They proudly called her their daughter to anyone they met, they were a real family, a family Y/N loves.

“I was wondering if I could ask you something?”

“Of course, you can.” Y/N nodded with a small smile.

“You and Jungkook, you have not fully mated yet. Why is that?” Jungkook’s mother asked as Y/N just stared at her. “I only asked because from what I’ve seen of you two, you are practically mated. You just have not started to have kit’s yet.”

“We…” Y/N looked over to where Jungkook sat, happily talking to his father about whatever they were watching on the tv. “By the time we both agreed to this… relationship, everything got bad. I was… we just never had the time to mate.”

“And now? Do you still want to mate with my son?”  

That was the question. And an easily answered question at that.

“I love your son.” Y/N looked back to the woman who smiled widely at her. “And I want to be with him, in any way he wants.”

“I know that sometimes when a human is with a hybrid they like to be married,” She pointed over towards the men who continued to talk. “Jungkook’s father wanted to be married, wanted to make it officially because he didn’t want anyone to treat me any less then what I was, his mate. Is that something you want? To marry Jungkook?”

That caught Y/N off guard. She had never really thought of marriage or the likes of it. Y/N knew that hybrids didn’t marry officially, once mated hybrids were as good as married. So, it never occurred to Y/N to actually be married to Jungkook.

“I… I never thought to…” Y/N stuttered a little over her words.

“It’s okay. Jungkook loves you. And he will happily give you anything you want.”

Before Y/N could say anything back, Jungkook came bounding into the kitchen quickly wrapping his arms around Y/N. The massive smile on his face was contagious, his parent’s happy that their son was safe and had found someone to love and love him back.

Though as dinner cooked, Jungkook’s arms stayed on Y/N, even as they all sat down to eat.

No more then a week later, Y/N had counted down the days, Jungkook took Y/N by the hand and lead her and his parents to a small cottage. It was down the path they took to the Astor’s, who joined as they walked, and a little smaller but just right. It was perfect and Jungkook was so proud to show his mate and his parents, that he could look after them, he could look after her.

Holding his hand outstretched towards his parents, Jungkook offered a small key with a wide bunny smile; “Welcome home.”

Y/N’s own eyes were wide, her heart swelled with pride seeing that her Jungkook, her mate, had given his own parents a true home. Y/N’s eyes never left Jungkook as he stood proudly and watched his parents move into the home, even if the tears threatened to spill. It was hard to believe that such a kind and caring man was once treated worse than an animal.

“You built them a home?” Y/N’s small voice asked Jungkook as the both of them stood by themselves at the door, watching Jungkook’s parents and grandparents.

“My Grandpa helped. It took a few months, but I had started it before everything happened.” Jungkook didn’t like to talk about it, didn’t like to think about Y/N not being where she was, beside him. “Yoongi and Hoseok helped whenever they could and Jimin and Taehyung would always be here helping when they would be here. I just… I wanted to do something for them. I wanted to show you that I can take care of you… if you’d let me…”

Y/N just smiled, before moving closer to him, standing up on her toes to softly press her lips to his. Although Jungkook had other plans to deepen the kiss, Y/N pulled back with a small laugh, reminding him they had company. He pouted, pulling her closer to him as he wrapped his arms around her waist and walked her around the house with his family.

Jin had visited 2 days ago and made a small passing comment. Something small. Something that could turn good or bad.

“So… Jungkook…” Jin smirked as he leaned against the counter. “His body seems to have completely relaxed into his environment. His heat will come soon. Have fun.”

Y/N had all but thrown him out of the house as he winked. He couldn’t help but laugh as Y/N cursed him out. It wasn’t that she was afraid of mating with Jungkook. She just didn’t like that he knew they would.

It also didn’t help when she went to visit Yoongi and Hoseok, both of them backing away before hugging her. Neither of them stood close to her and Y/N finally asked them why.

“We wouldn’t say you’ve been claimed… you haven’t mated yet.” Yoongi looked Y/N over.

“You just… you stink of that bunny and he is very territorial.” Hoseok laughed as Y/N sat at the counter. “Wouldn’t want to have him on our tail for trying to move in on you.”

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at that, because if Jungkook was one thing, it was territorial. And if Y/N was completely honest with herself, she kinda liked it.

But she was becoming concern for the hybrid now. He wasn’t sleeping much, wasn’t eating enough, his temperature always running a few degrees too warm. Y/N would have thought he was sick if it wasn’t for the fact that every chance he got, Jungkook would wrap Y/N into his arms. He was scenting anything, including Y/N, around him when he got the chance, he was even more territorial then he normal was, he could even pass for aggressive.

The final deciding factor that Jungkook was in fact experiencing his heat for the first time to the full extent, was how Jungkook would unconsciously gnaw on objects. Y/N knew the signs, and she had offered Jungkook the possibility of heat suppressants. They had done the adult thing and talked about his heat, no matter how embarrassed Jungkook had gotten, and he had made the decision that he didn’t want them.

Y/N would have never throw that back in his face, giving him the love and reassurance that she would be there to help him. It was that step in any relationship with a hybrid that would be where a human would have to come to terms with a soulmate. It was something that was all or nothing, and Y/N knew that Jungkook was her end game.

Y/N was woken up in bed, she was too hot, there was a thin layer of sweat on her skin, which confused her. Although it was summer, the AC was on and it was cool in her room, though the furnace wrapped around her was making her sweat.

Jungkook’s own skin was burning hot, it was uncomfortable for her to touch him, but he was adamant of holding her. Actually, with the whimpers and soft sighs leaving his lips and his hips grinding against her ass, his fingers digging into her skin, holding her in place as he continued to move.

“Jungkook…” Y/N tried to turn around to face him, trying to wake him up. “Jungkook, wake up…”

“Y/N… don’t… don’t st-“ Jungkook’s own mumbling was cut off by him groaning into her ear, his warm breath on her skin.

“Jungkook, wake up.” Y/N pushed him harder this time, successfully waking him up as he blinked to try and see in the dark. “Are you okay?”

“Hurts…” Jungkook breathed heavily, pushing his head into Y/N, the movement of his body never once stopping. “Help… please…”

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” Y/N  whispered over her shoulder, guiding Jungkook’s slightly trembling hands to help remove the almost soaked thin shirt she wore. “Let me help you Jungkook.”

Jungkook almost clawed Y/N’s shirt off, slightly ripping it as he finally got it off before throwing it somewhere in the dark room. Neither of them saw where, but that wasn’t either of their concern right now. What was Jungkook’s concern was tearing off what little both he and Y/N wore in the summer night, needing to feel every inch of her skin against his own.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

“Why are you apologising?” Y/N softly asked as her eyes caught his over her shoulder, her arm coming up to push his fallen hair out of his eyes.

“I wanted this to be… I didn’t want the first time I made love to you to be because I’m in the middle of a crazed heat episode.” Jungkook panted slightly, the heat, the pain becoming almost too much.

“Have we done anything in the right order?”

“I just wish…”

“Shh, Jungkook, it’s okay.” Y/N reassured him, leaning over her shoulder to kiss Jungkook, her hand wrapped around his neck and threading her fingers through his hair. “I love you.” Y/N whispered against his lips.

One of Jungkook’s large and sweaty rough hands moved up against Y/N’s soft skin before cupping her left breast. His fingertips softly pulling her erect nipple, causing Y/N to moan into his mouth, before his nudged her over.

Jungkook’s instincts took over, he was a buck in heat and a healthy doe was under him, wanting to please him. Jungkook moved Y/N up to her hands and knees, positioning himself behind her as his hand moved from her breast to steady himself. Taking a few, much needed deep breaths to calm himself down, Jungkook leaned down, softly leaving a trail of kisses up Y/N’s spine before kissing her shoulder a few times.

“I won’t last long.” Jungkook whispered into Y/N’s ear. “I’m sorry.”

“If you apologise one more time, I won’t go easy on you, Jeon Jungkook.” Y/N smirked over her shoulder.

“Easy on me?” Jungkook’s husky voice spoke as one of his hands moved down, his finger running along her slit. “Are you sure you should be threatening me right now?”

Y/N happily sighed, pushing her head into the pillow as Jungkook rubbed agonisingly slow circles on her clit.

“If you apologise one more time, I won’t go easy on you, Jeon Jungkook.” Y/N smirked over her shoulder.

“easy on me?’ Jungkook’s husky voice spoke as one of his hands moved down, lightly running over the soft skin of her stomach, before coming into contact with her slit. “Are you sure you should be threatening me right now?”

Y/N happily sighed, letting her head fall comfortably onto the pillow as Jungkook rubbed agonisingly slow circles on her clit, the other tracing circles on the flesh of her ass. She ran a hand up and down Jungkook’s arm, reassuring him. Breathy gasps fell from her lips with each circle, her need for him escalating, pushing her back to get more friction.

“Not so threatening now, are you?’ His lips grazing her ear as he spoke.

“Jungkook, please.” Her voice came out more desperate than she wanted, but she didn’t care.

“Please, what? What would you like me to do?” Jungkook asked in between leaving open mouthed kiss upon her shoulder.

“Mate me, make me yours.” She opened her eyes, not knowing she had closed them, her gaze caught Jungkook’s, his own eyes glazed over with lust and need. Letting out a deep growl, Jungkook leaned back.

“Are you sure?” Jungkook softly basked.

“Never been surer about anything, now make me yours.”

In one swift movement, Jungkook grabbed his cock, lined up with Y/N’s entrance and slowly started pushing in. A sharp gasp left Y/N’s mouth as she tightly clutched the sheets in her hands at the feeling of Jungkook’s cock stretching her deliciously. Jungkook’s closed his eyes tightly, forcing himself to hold back, just a while longer. The feeling of Y’N’s pussy, warm and welcoming, nearly becoming to much for him. He stilled for a moment once his cock was completely sheathed inside Y/N, allowing her to adjust to his size.

“Jungkook, move, please.” Y/N pleaded, her voice strained, and laced with desperation.

Jungkook slowly pulled out of her pussy, leaving just the head of his cock inside her, before pushing back in. His hands gripped her hips, breathless moans fell from lips with each slow thrust.

“I can tell you’re holding back, it’s okay. I’ll be okay,” Y/N reassured the bunny, “let go.”

Upon hearing those two words, Jungkook’s grip tightened as his pace became more forceful.  His floppy ears hitting his cheeks with each hard thrust of his hips. Louds moans roamed through the air as both of their highs became more apparent. The sound of skin slapping skin also filled the air around them.

“Jungkook, I’m close.” Y/N spoke, her voice hoarse, back arching.

Jungkook let a hand travel from her hip to her clit, rubbing harsh circles in time with his rapid thrusts. Her moans fell more frequently now, shifting her head from side to side on the pillow as she felt her orgasm building rapidly, threatening to burst.  Y/N started moving her hips back and forth helping to bring forth their orgasms.

“Cum for me.” Jungkook growled, his own high almost reaching breaking point, needing her to cum first to set him off. With a silent scream, the levy broke, and she came around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

“Come on, Jungkook. Cum in me, fill me up with your cum.” Those words went straight to his cock, he stilled as he came in her, coating her walls in white.

They stayed like that for a few moments, before he pulled out of Y/N. He helped her onto her back, before lying next to her, catching their breath, and coming back to earth. Jungkook moved to lean on his arm, looking at Y/N.

“I’m sorry that was quick, I wanted to take my time but,” Jungkook started, letting his gaze fall to her shoulder. She brought a hand up, cupping his cheek.

“It’s okay, stop apologising, we have all the time in the world now.” Y/N spoke leaning up to press a lingering kiss upon Jungkook’s lips.

“I want to make it up to you.” He said, lifting his gaze back up to Y/N’s.

Jungkook moved his body to hover over Y/N’s, One of Jungkook’s hands brushed Y/N’s hair out of her eyes before running over the smooth skin of her cheek. Slowly, he leaned down, nose touching hers as he paused for moment before Y/N placed a hand on the back of his neck and bringing him down into a searing kiss herself. Supporting himself on one arm, Jungkook trailed his hand over her skin, cupping her left breast and kneading gently, enticing a moan from the back of her throat. Taking advantage of his, Jungkook let his tongue slip past her swollen lips, exploring her mouth.

The fight for dominance easily won, Jungkook smirked into the kiss before breaking away and letting Y/N catch her breath. His lips left a lingering spark as they travelled along her jaw and to her neck. Y/N let out a small gasp as Jungkook started sucking on the sensitive spot just under her ear. Once satisfied with the purple mark, Jungkook travelled further down. Reaching her breasts, Jungkook looked up at Y/N through his lashes, before sucking a nipple into his mouth. Threading both hands through his  dark hair, Y/N held him closer to her. Y/N’s back arched off the mattress, relishing in the feeling of Jungkook’s mouth and hands on her.

“Jungkook.” Y/N chanted his name like a prayer.

Jungkook let her nipple go with a pop, before giving the same attention to the other. His tongue traced around Y/N’s nipple, maintaining eye contact with Y/N, before wrapping his lips around the small bud.  Y/N then let her head fall back onto the pillow, eyes screwed shut and mouth open in a perfect ‘o’. After a few moments, Jungkook continued his journey down south. Leaving burning kisses upon her stomach, teeth nipping at her hip bones, before grazing his lips over her thighs.

Leaning back, Jungkook placed his hands on her knees, pushing them apart, the cool air hitting Y/N’s pussy caused her to shiver. Jungkook took his time memorising her, his eyes taking in every detail, each scar and freckle, to the various pinks of her nipples and pussy. Y/N’s first instinct was to close her legs, but the strength behind his hands stopped her from doing so.

“Don’t. You’re beautiful.” Jungkook whispered, letting his gaze rake over her body one more time before he moved himself to laying on the mattress. Catching Y/N’s gaze once more, Jungkook inched closer towards her heat. Letting his tongue to pass between his lips, licking from Y/N’s entrance to her clit, catching the juices from their actions prior. “We taste amazing together.”

Jungkook hummed in approval, then ran the flat of his tongue up her slit. Y/N’s hands clutched at the sheets either side of her, pressing her head into the pillow as her back arched off the mattress. Jungkook’s hands travelled underneath her thighs, resting them on her stomach, with her thighs now placed on his shoulders. Humming, Jungkook grazed his teeth over her clit, feeling Y/N shiver around him, before wrapping his lips around the bundle if nerves and sucking harshly. Y/N screamed out at his action; her clit still sensitive after her first orgasm.

Jungkook’s mouth travelled downwards to her entrance, his tongue probing the hole. Y/N’s hands flew to Jungkook’s hair, wrapping her fingers around the strands, as his tongue entered her pussy. Y/N’s hands pulled on his hair as his fingers started rubbing circles on her clit, as he set a slow pace of thrusting his tongue inside her dripping pussy. The sound of his name falling from Y/N’s mouth caused Jungkook to hum against her in satisfaction, the action causing her hips to move against his mouth. Jungkook’s actions sped up upon feeling Y/N’s fingertips graze over his floppy ears, a deep growl rumbling through his chest and vibrating  on her pussy.

“Do that again.” Jungkook’s deep, husky voice graced Y/N’s hearing. “Touch my ears again. Please.”

He didn’t mean for his words to sound needy, but he needed Y/N to touch them. Lifting her hand up, Y/N lightly touched Jungkook’s left ear, running her fingertips over the soft fur. Low moans fell from Jungkook’s mouth, his leg starting to shake. Y/N could feel her second orgasm approaching, with each circle of his fingers, each thrust of his tongue and each sound Jungkook makes vibrating on her, the band in the pit of stomach snapped. Jungkook removed his tongue and replaced it with two of his long fingers, helping Y/N through her high.

Jungkook crawled up Y/N’s body, eyes filled with a primal lust. He pressed his forehead against Y/N’s as her hand travelled down, lightly ghosting over his skin, drawing goose bumps to rise until her fingers came in contact with his hard cock. Jungkook hissed at the contact and screwed his eyes shut, breathing rapidly. Y/N completely wrapped her hand around his cock and started to slowly pump him. Jungkook started to move his hips in time with Y/N’s hand, spasming with she ran her thumb over his tip. A hand caught her wrist, stopping her movements.

“Keep it up, and I’ll cum, but I want to cum in you.” Jungkook rasped as he pinned her hands to the mattress.

Using one hand to hold her wrists, Jungkook used his other to grasp his cock and ran along Y/N’s slit, teasing her before slowly pushing the tip inside her still tight hole.

“You’re still so tight for me.” Jungkook mused “Even after everything I’ve just done to you.”

“Kook, please.” Y/N pleaded, needing more.

“Patience. I want to savour this.”

Jungkook slowly pushed in further, until he was completely sheathed inside Y/N, pausing a movement to memorise the feeling. Jungkook leaned down and captured Y/N’s lips with his, pouring his heart and soul into kiss and started setting a nice, slow, and deep pace. Slowly pulling out so only his tip is inside Y/N, and then forcefully pushing back in, so she can feel him deep inside. The two moaned into each other’s mouths, tongues caressing one another and hands roaming over sweaty skin.

“Faster, Jungkook.” Y/N mulled into Jungkook’s mouth.

His hips moved faster upon her request; Jungkook broke away from kiss tor drop his head in the crock of Y/N’s neck., biting her shoulder to mask his moans. A large, rough hand filtered over her side to her clit, rubbing harsh circles. High pitched moans fell from Y/N mouth, a third high approaching.

“I’m close.” Y/N breathed, clenching her fists.

“Me too.” Jungkook whispered.

Y/N’s pussy clenching around his cock driving him mad, he thrusted his hips faster, chasing his high. Jungkook let go of her hands, threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her head to the side, sucking little love bites on the tender skin of her neck. Y/N’s hands flew straight to Jungkook’s back, racking her nails up and down along his spine. Her third orgasm hit her hard when Jungkook pinched her clit, walls clenching tightly around him as she came. Not long after, Jungkook’s thrusts became sloppy and sporadic. Y/N kept clenching her pussy, milking him, she let a hand move up to his ears and massaging the base of them.

Jungkook came with the deepest growl before collapsing atop of Y/N, both completely spent. After catching their breath, Jungkook pulled out of Y/N and rolled off the bed, stretching before walking into the bathroom. Returning with a wet cloth, he cleaned up Y/N of their mess. Tossing the cloth into washing basket, he moved to lay down next to his mate. His arms pulling her to his body, one leg thrown over hers, one of her hands threading through his hair.

“That was,” Y/N started breathlessly.

“Amazing.” Jungkook finished, just a breathless.

Soon, the room became quiet, their breathing finally back to normal as they seemed to be drifting off. Y/N took a quick glance at the clock next to her, telling her just how late it was, 4am and soon the sun was going to rise. As she was going to fall asleep, she could feel Jungkook moving again.

“Jungkook… how long do rabbit heats last again?” Y/N whispered as Jungkook was waking up fully again.

“A week…” Jungkook laughed a little, moving on top of Y/N again. “Give or take.”

It was a week before either of them resurfaced, it was never bought up or questioned. And after a week Y/N had a lot of work to get back to, rescuing hybrids and truly becoming a part of Jungkook’s family.

The reality of Y/N’s world was this was normal. Normal for her to be here, under these circumstances, happily. In love and happy.

Tag List

@ariana-winchester95 | @haven-raven012591 | @jennyjq | @Iwannag0h0me-c0m | @cstobitk | @goldenbangtann | @patpus | @lorielulu7 | @bubbletaetaesstuff | @narcissism-iskey | @yoongisabby | @demonslunacy | @sana-b | @chanyeolol | @nanskidoodle | @gracehiii | @legazix | @mintyrae | @the-immortal-dreamer | @kb-bangtanenthusiast | @aesthetewriter | @namjoons-dimple | @a-feeling-of-euphoria | @joyful-jimin​ |  

[with-love-anu]

The new neighbour 3

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader

Series Masterlist

The marauders were in and out of your apartment all the time. Remus would drop by whenever he needed some peace and quiet; James needed your opinion on something every other time and Sirius would come in to just talk to you or see your latest poem or artwork. And you loved it. The four of you quickly became very close. It felt like you all were roommates. Sirius was in your apartment, looking at your old albums. You blushed when Sirius looked at your baby pictures and cooed at them. He called you ‘baby’ and it seemed to do things to you. You presented your travel pictures and talked about bunny, completely missing the look of jealousy crossing his face. He pointed out to Steve, your ex.

“Who’s this?” Sirius asked.

“Steve. We dated for a while. Then he realized he was in love with the image I put forward in public. Quite a nasty breakup” You shrugged.

“What?” he asked making you sigh.

“It’s just; I have an image I have to put forward in public: perfect, pristine. But, I am not like that in real life. I can get sad, angry and disgusted too. And apparently, it was a lot for him to handle.

Sirius held your hand and gave you a small smile.

“He has no idea what he missed.”

You took a deep breath.

“I don’t know, the longest relationship I was in lasted for only a year and that too almost. Sometimes I wonder what is wrong with me. Like am I un-dateable or something? I always seem to do something wrong”

Sirius furrowed his eyebrows.

“How could you think that? You’ve been living near us for what? 3 months? You’ve been one of the most amazing people I’ve met.” Sirius gulped. “I would be over the moon to get the chance to date you. Even though I’ve never quite done that before. If there would be someone terrible in our relationship, it would most certainly be me.” Sirius laughed nervously.

“You would date me?”

“Yeah. You seem the best person for it.”

“Oh?”

“W-“ there was a knock on the door that shook you both. As you went to answer it, Sirius cursed under his breath.

“(Y/n) how the hell do you make your spicy chicken corn soup?” James asked with widened eyes and such a frustrated expression that you let out a laugh.

“I’ll show you.”

“Really? Thank you.”

***

You spent hours repeating what Sirius said. Was he being serious about you? Was it not just harmless flirting with you? You groaned. You needed a drink. As you took out some water you heard a loud bang and every light in your apartment turned off with a thump. Bloody fucking great! A power outrage. You finished drinking the glass of water and moved towards the marauders’ apartment. You thanked god that it was just evening and not completely dark.

“Guys?” you called out, knocking on their door.

Remus opened up. He looked pained. He ushered you in and you squeezed your eyes to make things out in semi-darkness. Sirius and James jumped on you shouting and you screamed, leaping backward. You tried to breathe glaring at them both as they rolled out in laughter.

“How could you do that?!?” you demanded as they both laughed and slowly, you joined them too. You all settled on the couches.

“So, what are we gonna do?” Sirius asked after sometime.

“I don’t know? Listen to the bloody radio.” James groaned and you threw a pillow on his head.

“Heyyy!”

You all talked lazily on the couch, becoming increasingly aware of the heat. Sirius wiped away the sweat on his head with the back of his hand as you fanned yourself with a magazine.

“Okay, I’m bringing some iced soda from the fridge, who all want some?” Remus asked, getting up.

“Me!” you three shouted at the same time, and laughed.

Remus handed you all some cans. You greedily opened it up taking a big gulp, enjoying in the cooling sensation.

“It’s not iced.” Sirius pointed out.

“Well suck it up lil baby, cause that’s all you are getting.” you said tying your hair up.

You heard Sirius gasping.

“You’re a mean young lady!” Sirius whined and you cooed at him, giggling. James and Remus gave each other knowing looks.

You placed the cool can on your cheek, relishing in the sensation. It had been 2 hours since the city lost all electricity and you felt like you were losing your patience. You heard Sirius sit up straight beside you.

“Listen, I think it would be cooler outside. Let’s go up to the roof.”

“Sirius, I just got comfortable on this couch with these pillows, I’m not going anywhere.” James sighed.

“I’m afraid of heights, Sirius. You know that, it’s a no from me.” Remus piped up.

“I’ll come, I don’t think it would be worse than it is here.” You said, getting up and adjusted your shirt.

Sirius and you pulled out your phones switching on the flashlights. You went towards the emergency staircase, needing to climb 3 stories.

“Ever went up there?” Sirius whispered.

“No.”

“Well then, you are in for a treat, the view is breathtaking.” He said as you followed him. You reached an old iron door which creaked on opening.

“Sounds ominous. Sirius, you are not going to throw me off the building are you?” you jabbed and Sirius snorted.

“That’s exactly what I am planning to do, my dear. Then I’ll take over your wealth.” He imitated an evil laugh and you rolled out barking, holding your stomach as Sirius blushed.

“Do that again.” You said red from laughter.

“No.”

“Please, come on!”

“Look we are here, so do you want to see or not?” Sirius said pointing towards the boundary.

You slowly moved towards it and gasped. It was beautiful.

“It is breathtaking.” You said looking at Sirius beside you. You suddenly felt calm. Sirius was right. It was cooler up here. The wind blew and you sighed, looking out at the cars honking on the roads. You did not know how long you both stood in silence as a kind of serenity eloped you. You gazed at the sky which was now midnight blue and the stars twinkled all around.

“You know, when I was younger; my family; Papa, Mumma and I used to go to the nearby hill station every Christmas. We had this small cottage there and as the night neared we would sit outside just looking at the stars and drinking this amazing hot cocoa my mother made.”

Sirius smiled at you and you saw how his eyes sparkled in the moonlight.

“I wish I was a child again. I would have like no worries; I would live thoughtlessly in my house as my parents protected me from the big bad world. Don’t you wish that?” you said looking towards him and he sucked in a breath.

“Well, I don’t come from the nicest of families. I spent my Christmas attending the family gala, trying not to do anything that might earn me a punishment.”

“Oh.” You whispered.

“My family was strict in the basest of all its meanings.” Sirius sighed. “I used to be beaten up for every small mistake I committed. When I finally ran away, I felt free at last. I stayed with James. His parents gladly welcomed me and supported me. I needed that.”

Sirius shrugged and your heart clenched.

“I’m so sorry, Sirius. You didn’t have to tell me.” You said softly.

“Nah. It’s okay. I moved on, James helped me. It’s not a big deal not that anyone cares.” Sirius said nonchalantly. You held his hand.

“I care. And it does matter. Talking about it helps with healing. You could talk to me whenever you know? I would be happy to listen.” You said looking at him and he took a deep breath.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Sirius said smiling at you. You smile back at him. His hair flew in the wind and his face seemed to glow. You wanted to pull him in and kiss him. Sirius seemed to be thinking the same looking at your lips. Sirius’s phone rang suddenly, shaking you both. He answered it, nodding and ending the call.

“The light’s back!” he said with fake cheer and you forced a small smile.

“Finally.”

You both went back to their apartment, seeing that Remus and James had already switched the air conditioner on. You sighed sitting down. Sirius ordered some pizza and drinks as James showed you the T.V. serial, he got all hyped about. You all laughed, drank and had fun and you finally took your leave.

Sitting down on your bed, you called bunny.

“Heyo there Fangs!”

“Heyyy bunny. I need to tell you something.”

“Shoot.”

“I think I am in love with Sirius.” You said clenching your eyes shut, crossing your fingers.

“You, what now?” bunny gasped.

“I like him. Really really like Sirius. I don’t know what to do? I really wanted to kiss him today and believe me it wasn’t the first time either and I just kinda keep imagining what it would be like to call him mine, to hold his hand and for him to kiss me every now and then and maybe moving in together and marrying him when the time is right.”

“You really have it bad, huh?” bunny asked and you sighed.

“Yeah. Yeah I do. And I have no idea how to tell him that.”

A/N: Big shit planned up ahead, I apologise in advance. Anyways, I would love to hear whether you like this series until yet.

[imnotwolverine]

The Englishman JACK - CHAP 3

< Chap 2 | Chap 3 Cocks And Guns | Chap 4 >

Summary: Jack finds himself in a crossfire between friends, foes and silent admirers. 

Author’s note: To the handful of people reading this: I hope you’ll enjoy this one! Have a good weekend my lovelies. ❤️

Word count: 5.105 (18 min. read)

Disclaimers: NSFW - Strong language, misogyny, lots of cigarettes, alcohol abuse, extortion, WWII PTSD, (gun) violence, mobsters

–

Cocks and Guns

--

The woolen uniform itched and Jack was eager for the night shift to be over. With sweat running down his back, he peered into the darkness that surrounded the makeshift war camp. Everything seemed so calm and quiet; it was near strange to think that a few miles from here the Germans lurked. The enemy.

A few months ago he had seen their faces for the first time, the mood grim in the dead land between bloody trenches. It had rained for weeks on end and Jack could have sworn it had been God himself crying for the travesty that was this war. In that moment he had also wondered if these Germans before him truly wanted to fight. He, for one, surely didn’t. He felt the same dread he saw in them. Cheekbones fallen in, eyes wide.

That day the battlefield had remained calm. And not many days later Jack was reassigned, one general impressed with his good eye for detail and sharp mind. It was why he now was here, belly flat on the earth as he peered out into the distance, eyes sharp and back soaking wet with sweat. Behind him he could hear the occasional male voice or thump of sturdy boots. But before him the land was unreadable. All scraggly bushes, haunting tree shapes and the song of hidden cicadas. Jack felt the sound irked him, even though he couldn’t quite explain to himself why. The creatures were perfectly harmless and he had learned that the locals were terribly fond of them.

At first this new job hadn’t seemed so bad. They got more rest than in the trenches, and the men seemed a tad more cheerful. On the odd occasion they had even slept in real beds, made music, met women. And these women, French women, were utterly divine. Jack had never been outside of English territory, so he was near shocked to find how very different the French were from his usual English birds. In a hash he thought that maybe, if ever he’d get out of here, he’d marry one of those pretty brown eyed mademoiselles. Start a life here in the rural lands that usually harvested wine. What a life that would be. Besides, it wasn’t like he missed England all that much. Especially not when that same England sent him out to fight like this.

Scratching at some sweat that was drying on his jaw, he lost focus for just half a second. And though the cicadas continued to sing and the stars to shine, Jack knew something was amiss straight away. The male voices were no longer solely behind him. They were before him. Hushed and part of the darkness that stared back. Had he imagined it? Swallowing harshly he focused on the black lines of branches and bushes. With the wind quiet, any movement would indicate unfriendly visitors. But none moved. None sighed. Indeed, perhaps he had just imagined it. With a coded click of the tongue he signalled the other scout whom lay a few meters up ahead.

The man shot up disturbed, helmet crooked on his head, followed by a thump of lead hitting flesh. Jack’s heart was racing in an instant, eyes noting his dead fellow scout, shortly followed by then a blitz of stars in the bushes. Bullets were being fired and even ducking low he could swear he would be hit. That this would be it. That he would...

Gasping, Jack shot up from the bed. A sheen of sweat stuck to his brow and it took a good few moments before he realised he was no longer in France. The room surrounding him was dark, but he recognised it well enough. He was at the Maniari’s, having just awoken from a bad dream. Sighing, he let himself fall back on the comfortable mattress. Even years after the war, he was haunted by his days in the army. And he felt it only got worse when he was alone, the cold sheets a cocoon that trapped him in the most frightening of memories. Staring out at the ceiling he waited for his heartbeat to calm and breath to steady. But that was not going to happen.

Gunshots fired in the night outside. And before he even realised it himself, Jack had thrown himself off the bed and onto the floor, arms tiger crawling up to the window sill, eyes peering over the edge. The window was cracked open slightly, letting in the cool nightly Tuscan air to relieve the heat after a sunny day. That same heat still remained in the stone ledge he pressed his cheek into, bewildered eyes finding the cause of all this ruckus: Augusto and his men.

Down on the patio on the far end of the house there stood a group of swaggering, loud men. Thick cigar smoke curled up in the air and from the way they had to steady their every move, it was obvious they were well into their cups. In total there were four, faces hard to discern in the low moonlight. It didn’t however refrain the men from clearing their identities with loud laughter and booming voices. With a shotgun in hand, Augusto stood at the front, a cigar hanging over his lip as he looked over his shoulder, hinting at the other men to watch.

‘Watch and learn!’ He growled, body starting to jerk as he cleared a few shots in the dark. Jack noticed that he wasn’t just shooting at nothing; from a tree hung a white ribbon that stood out just enough for even the drunk men to see. Not knowing whether Augusto hit anything at all, Jack flinched as the men started to cheer even more loudly.

Next up was one of the more slender looking men. Perhaps one of the bodyguards. Holding a handgun he outstretched an arm, aim more pure than that of Augusto. With a Hollywood-esque exaggeration he blew the heat from the gun’s barrel, laughing as one of the other men clapped his back.

Like this the nightly banter outside continued. It felt like hours upon hours, and though Jack had forced himself to lay back down in bed, he could no longer catch any sleep. Staring out at the ceiling he watched and waited, and dozed and mulled on thoughts that mixed reality and dream until finally he saw the first rays of sun crawl over the wooden beams above him. The sheer lace curtains drew pretty patterns there, reminding him of his first acid trip. How relieving that moment had been after months of struggling to deal with his post traumatic shock disorder.

You’ve got it bad boy, Lucia had whispered, brushing away his hair when he would wake bathing in sweat.

She was gone now.

Sighing, Jack pushed himself off the bed, head feeling dazed. He hoped that this wouldn’t occur every night, but something told him that he shouldn’t keep his hopes up. This family was mad and he knew it. Stretching himself out, hands above his head, he cracked a few joints before returning to the window sill, eyes finding that a butler had moved out to the bullet shell covered terrace on his left. The man was placing a whole collection of glasses, half finished liquor bottles and crowded ash trays onto a larger tray, face stern and focused.

Then Jack realised there was another person up and about. Just beneath his window, seated at the long end of a table, chair covered in a black and white striped cotton, sat the only daughter of the Maniari’s. Bunny. She was all dressed up to the nines, hair neatly coiffed and body clad in a blue knee length dress. 

From his position, Jack could see everything perfectly. The way her cigarette smudged with lipstick, the way her eyes sometimes moved to the butler who was cleaning up the mess on the other terrace. And he also noted that her fashion magazine was a bit peculiar; either they had started to include an accounting segment, or Bunny dear was holding a secret. The pages looked off. Reaching a little further, Jack tried to figure out what it was she was hiding, but that move betrayed him. The window creaked and with a hurried scowl Bunny looked up, hand closing her magazine.

‘Good morning,’ Jack chimed, smiling warmly. Bunny sucked on her cigarette and stared up at Jack. A moment passed.

‘If you say so.’ She sighed, pressing the half-finished cigarette into a glass ashtray before walking back inside.

Jack contemplated how he had wronged her, but as his eyes wandered over the curves of the misty hills, his mind bleaked. In the far distance, behind the neatly kept gardens, he could see the vineyards, stretching for miles. Most of it owned by the Maniaris, small houses dotted over the landscape, all rented by locals or used by family members. Today was the day he would meet some of them. He wondered if they would be just as mad.

--

‘Too expensive.’ The old nan flared an aggravated hand in the direction of the suit clad man who had come to gather the rent. Her eyes spoke poison, but also intrigue when she noted Jack. For a short moment her trembling jaw quieted, wrinkly features studying the unknown man before her.

‘YOU, you do something about it!’ Her finger directed back at Big. ‘The protection is shit! Last week one of my goats was shot and look at what you do. NOTHING. No-thing. You scum! You..-’

One of the men pushed Jack outside of the small cottage and closed the door, leaving Jack alone. The sun was starting to sink down and with a quick check on his peculiar sundial watch he noted the time. 4.30, just about. And violence..? He listened and heard the muffled whines of the woman inside. Yes. Biting his tongue he started his way to the end of the small garden that stretched around the cottage. Vegetables were growing in long rows of green. Cabbages, leaks and the like; nothing spectacular. But he also noted feet. Or feet marks to be exact. Dragging in the mud and too large to fit the small woman that lived here, alone. Had she had a visitor? Clicking his tongue he turned heel, hearing the front door re-open, men pouring out.

‘Fucking nuthouse.’ One of the bodyguards muttered, lips glueing to a cigarette that was lit with a bloodied hand. Jack noted that too, but said nothing. It was not why he was here.

‘Found some footsteps over there.’ Jack nodded, and the men looked up.

‘So?’

‘Male. Large male. Old, most likely, or wounded. Hard to see through the red stain of this darn mud.’ Jack pointed at the garden and two of the men stepped in, one of them taking notes and photographs of the measurements and findings. They nearly looked professional - were it not for them to be stinking like a brown pub in the wind.

‘Unlikely to be Alfi.’ Big stepped forward, still distrusting of Jack. Luigi hadn’t come along, though he had offered; it was Jack who had refused. At first the idea of having Luigi with him seemed pleasing, but seeing Luigi’s slightly particular behaviour yesterday made him rethink. Perhaps it was better to find the brother’s motivations and relations one by one; in the end they both had been in Paris at the time of Lucia’s demise.

So far though, the young Maniari mostly just seemed like a spoiled brat, who, unfortunately, wasn’t all that clever. Big scowled at Jack, who smiled a fair laugh.

‘Alfonso can’t get hurt, you say?’

‘It can’t be him because why the fuck would he be in some old hag’s shitty garden? He’d come home if that’d be the case. Pfft.’ Big shook his head in disbelief and regarded one of the men who had walked to a nearby tree to take a leak, hand brushing down the pee on his pants before he let out a relieved sigh.

‘Fwoa. You just keep on pissing from that stuff.’ He laughed.

Big smirked. ‘That’s what you do. Drink like a god? Piss like a god.’

The rest of the men laughed, but Jack didn’t. He turned around, watching the distrustful woman who peaked at him through the lacy veil of her curtains. Perhaps he’d return to her later.

--

The sun was sinking fast, but apparently there was one more job to be done. After a short stop at the villa, a small garrison of three sleek cars drove up the ruby red roads. At the front was Augusto’s car, a silver Mercedes, it’s lacquer shining in the last drops of honey hued sunlight. In the far back was the brandless black beast that carried Jack and four square shouldered men. These men were new to Jack, and for a moment Jack wondered if he was brought along so Augusto could keep an eye on him. Of course he had hoped that he would have been just allowed to lumber around alone, but reality was different. In reality even family friends had to join in on the dirty work. Whatever the dirty work would be right now.

After a short drive the cars halted before a small winery, long rows of vines weaving in patterns behind the tall cypresses that stood at either side of the muddy road. The sun was close to disappearing now, leaving long and tall shadows at the men’s feet. The Maniari crew had nine men in total, which seemed excessive for a visit. But then again; perhaps it wasn’t enough. Jack noticed how they all kept a hand close to the insides of their jackets, buttons undone. He was no fool. There were weapons held disguised, ready to be used at will.

Turning on his heel, Augusto was surrounded by his trusty bodyguard number One - a surprisingly small and slender man - and the four jarheads.

‘No words English. Just watch. I need your eyes alone. No funny business.’

Jack nodded, not sure what was about to happen. With confident strides the men walked up to the near abandoned looking winery, an old tractor parked near the door. The yard was muddy, leaving hundreds of tracks of cars, feet and what looked to be dog paws.

‘Nando!!’ Augusto called at a man who stepped out of the front door. The leather faced man was obviously not eager to see Augusto, eyes skittish and hand holding onto the door knob.

‘Good eve.’ Nando watched the many men that surrounded Augusto, eyes narrowing. ‘I don’t want no trouble sir.’

‘Then there won’t be any trouble.’ Augusto smiled broadly - too broadly, his cheeks drawing menacing shadows in the light of the sinking sun. ‘Just business talk.’

‘Right now? I was just about to eat sup--’

One of Augusto’s men pushed Nando back inside, pushing through the narrow hallway until all men were indoors. It was there where yet more visitors were found. More tough looking men in suits, hands staying nervously close to their pockets.

Jack barely got a chance at properly looking at these other men before the situation escalated. Augusto voice boomed with some insult about ‘crooked investors’ and then all hell broke loose. Or, so it seemed. Being pushed back against the opposing wall of the narrow hallway, Jack lost track of movements. Men were rushing back and forth, commands being yelled. The house was too small and it didn’t help that Jack had hurt his head, his vision swimming.

It was seconds later when the calm returned. Jack found himself leaning into the wall. On the ground in the small living room red stains leaked into the carpet. And watching Augusto, he saw those same red stains on his blouse. Had the mobster been wounded? Gasping in horror, Jack blinked, memories flooding him.

RUN JACK. RUN! Harry’s bloody teeth gulped the words, eyes wide.

The memory faded.

Hold! Hold! Hold for the king! Rain clattered on poorly made helmets, the dark night icy cold. Are you soldiers? Or are you weak? Right there the enemy awaits us, but we are ready. Squadron 2, line 4. Get ready to climb!

Jack felt sick, feet stumbling. The whole hallway seemed to tilt a few degrees, like he were on a ship filled with cute picture frames and handmade doilies.

‘Let’s get outta here.’ Big pushed Jack back out of the door, the rest of the men following.

‘What a fucking mess.’ Augusto growled. He didn’t sound as wounded as he seemed. Jack inhaled sharply, the evening air biting into his lungs. Panic and trauma washed over him and he had to try his best to stay afoot. Around him the other men walked out, reminding him of the soldiers in the trenches. The same mud that slipped beneath his unsteady feet had been there in France. Day in day out. Everything had been so wet, all the freaking time. At some point he hadn’t even known anymore whether it was the rain, blood or both. With blinking eyes Jack focused on his shoes, red splatters climbing up his leather shoes. He knew he wasn’t in France. He knew he wasn’t hurt - yet. And yet the ache in his heart seemed to seep in every corner of his limbs, turning his usually sharp mind to muddle.

‘Such a waste of wine.’ Augusto clicked his teeth. ‘And to you.’ He reared his head and looked at the man who looked at him through the small doorway. Jack didn’t know the man, but he seemed like a boos of sorts. His smug face raised a challenging chin, but said nothing.

‘Shame on your pitiful blood.’ Augusto spat on the ground. ‘This was once my father’s land. And now what?! Look at this! The moment some poor man comes up and tries to rebuild it, you take it from him.’

Jack frowned. Before him he saw the same Augusto that had beaten his daughter and threatened his family with the worst of repercussions. And yet that same man now wanted to protect this poor winemaker. Really? It almost seemed absurd.

‘There’s much waste, old friend. But this? I see potential. You see flaws. You hold onto the old. I embrace..the new!’ The smug looking man laughed. ‘And you see, Nando here.’ He turned and squeezed the terrified looking farmer into the door frame. ‘Has become a very, very good friend of mine. Haven’t you Nando? Hmm?’

The poor man swallowed and nodded quickly. ‘Y-yes sir.’

‘No no. We’re friends. Call me Gio, please.’

‘Yes..Gio.’ The man nodded, terror clear in his eyes.

Augusto sighed dramatically. ‘Well, dear Gio, you ruined my shirt!’

‘Oh curse you old friend. Buy yourself a new one. And kiss your wife for me, will you!’

‘Watch your words!’ Augusto wanted to step in and all men were back to grabbing for their pockets, but Big was there to hush his father.

‘Father, let us deal with this another--’

‘Another time? Would you look at that smug bastard with his..’ Augusto waved his hand in the air with disgust, his pretentiously friendly tone gone.

Gio laughed and waved, his skin lighting up with the last rays of sunshine. ‘Let us have proper wine soon my friend. We’ll discuss business, like the old days!’

Augusto spat on the ground and shot one last poisonous glance at the boisterous man in the doorway. It was obvious the two had a history. And Augusto was pulling the short end of the string tonight. With dragging feet he let himself be guided back to the cars. Even now Jack wasn’t quite sure why they had come with so many. Was it to show off? Or had they really been ready for a war? Still feeling a little wheezy, he walked to the last car and got in, his body soon squeezed in the middle of the bench between the two large men.

--

‘You’re hurt!’ Luigi exclaimed. With hasted feet he worked his way through the men who had started to scatter in the large hallway. Some went to the lounge for a drink, others to their quarters for sleep. None were rueful enough to deal with their boss Augusto right now.

The man groaned. ‘It’s nothing.’

‘Oh why look at you father.’ Luigi tutted, peeling at the winesoaked blouse of his father. His father swatted his hand away.

Luigi hesitated. ‘Ehh.. I must warn you, father.’ Luigi licked his thin lip. ‘Mom has one of her...moments.’

Augusto turned heel, eyes wild. ‘She..what? Why didn’t you do something?!’

Luigi shrugged in defeat and pointed outside. In a flurry of curse words his father ran out, feet thundering on the loud marble floor.

‘You alright?’ Luigi stepped in next to Jack. The other men had dispersed, leaving the two men standing here alone.

Jack nodded quietly. France still ringed in his ears. Or perhaps it was a mild concussion. Either way he could do with some rest and a meal.

‘Quite a day it was.’

‘Indeed. I heard Mrs. Tuscesi got another beating. What a woman. What. A. Woman.’

Jack nodded, allowing Luigi to guide him up the stairs like he had yesterday. Again that fleshy warm hand found his lower back, but Jack didn’t object. Stepping in turn with Luigi, he told his friend about the little situation with Gio. Luigi sighed.

‘My papa never learns.’

They halted amidst the stairs, where a window gave a lookout over the shadowy gardens. Little torch lights cast a mysterious hue over the greens, where the signora danced, a little 3-legged dog by her side. Meanwhile Augusto was storming through the long lane between sky high cypresses, right at her.

‘Didn’t know you had a dog.’ Jack said. He didn’t want to question what was the matter with Luigi’s mother - it seemed a touchy subject, especially now he was living here with the Maniari’s. For a moment they watched as she waved her expressive arms in the air, before throwing a shoe for the dog toe catch. It hobbled awkwardly on its three tiny stilts.

‘My mother has a dog.’ Luigi corrected, then returned his warm hand to Jack’s back. Jack again, didn’t object and followed as they continued their way up the stairs. This time Luigi got a little further before he halted amidst the hallway, feet quiet on the stone floor.

Jack smiled, knowing exactly what Luigi wished to ask. It seemed near inappropriate, but in a way Jack could use some friendly company at the moment. Besides, he still needed to find out what Luigi’s true motivation was in life. He had changed so much since last they met in person. Not only had he grown in size, also his manners had changed. The Luigi he had met in Paris was not quite the man before him. That Luigi had been an oversized boy who liked to play. This was a man who made the game.

Turning on his heel, Jack looked over his shoulder. With a single nod the affirmation was given; join me. And so Luigi joined.

--

With most of the men gone on their nightly mission, the house was left quiet. Bunny peaked through her cracked bedroom door. On either side of the hallway the lights were dimly lit. But no guards were there to keep watch. No brothers were there to call onto her. All she could hear was her mother on the phone and her brother’s record player downstairs. From the looks of it both were preoccupied and so Bunny took her chance, feet slipping out of the door frame.

The heavy creak of her door made her flinch. Fuck. Holding tight onto the door knob she waited. Perhaps there soon would be footsteps, guns cocking, knuckles cracking. But no, there was nobody here.

Continuing her quiet pitter patter, Bunny made her way to one of the doors on the right. Not far from here her mother was babbling into the phone. Or worse yet; crying into the phone. Bunny again halted her steps.

‘But I need you! I..I need you!’

Her mother sounded positively desperate. But then again, so were all women who lived in this household. Her mother would drink herself to death. Bunny would run herself to death. Pick your poison, they say, right?

Gritting her teeth, Bunny turned her attention to one of the doors on her right. It’s where Alfonso’s study was located. A bunch of mystery rooms that she had rarely been allowed to visit. And the attraction to visit became even stronger when Alfi disappeared. The brother’s had looked inside for a bit, but decided there were no clues worth mentioning to the Englishman. All seemed as it should be, they said.

But Bunny didn’t believe it could be that easy. Alfi always had been a weird brother. Being the oldest of the bunch, he had always felt terribly important with his books and administrational work and numbers. He had always been the precise one, the easily ignited one. One thing out of place would send him into fury, and so it was here where Bunny decided to do some of her own research. Here in his study. Where all her brothers seemed too busy with their gun fights and extortion, Bunny knew that it was unlikely to be just a regular kidnapping. There had to be clues. There just had to be.

With a click of the door knob she opened the study room. And it was exactly what she expected to find. A simple desk set amidst ceiling high bookshelves filled with administration and books. It was kept so orderly it was hard to think this may just be the start of a crime scene. But Bunny had read books herself, too. Agatha Christie had taught her one thing: death is in the details. And patterns are always there. The only difference was that this was no oriental train or desolate island, but home. The home she had lived in with people that could very well star in one of Christie’s books. For they were characters, each and every one of them.

Behind her, Bunny could still hear her mother’s wails, followed by a sharp click of the door. Was her mother going out? Oh no. Oh shit. Quickly closing the door behind her, Bunny pressed her ear against the door, listening to the footsteps in the hallway. It was definitely her mother, and from the way her heels tapped the floor in an uneven rhythm, it was clear that she was drunk. Not that this was such a surprise; each time her mother suffered a setback, she’d fall back into the dirty old habit of binge drinking.

‘Zazoooo. BABYYY where are you sweetieeee.’ Her mother’s shrill voice called as she clambered down the stairs, footsteps fading.

Zazoo hadn’t been able to climb the stairs ever since the incident. A shooting incident. And though all said it had been the Luchesse’s, or perhaps even Gio himself, Bunny knew better. She always knew better. And she was sure that it had been one of the family who had shot the dog’s leg during one of the many drinking fests. One night the dog had four legs, the next just three.

Poor dog.

Turning back around, Bunny let out a sigh. Again her eyes fell on the many small details around her. Having learned from her mystery books, she tried to find clues. The burned candles, the disturbed dust on the shelves, the…Hmm. She walked to one of the shelves that had obviously been disturbed quite recently. With a tug she pulled out some of the folders that were tucked tightly together. She wasn’t sure what exactly she was looking for, the numbers all unfamiliar. But there were names here too. Many names, though unfamiliar in most cases. Only the Luchesse named immediately rung a bell, but then the numbers didn’t clarify much either.

Flitting through the pages, Bunny let her eyes slide over the neatly noted numbers. Prices, codes, phone numbers. They could be anything. Continuing her research, her eyes stopped on one page. A blood stain had poured into the thin paper, dark red, though also still slightly slimy. An unusual type of blood stain when at best you’d suspect a paper cut.

Noises in the hallway made her turn on her heel again. More people. Male. Fuck. Hurrying to get the folder closed and back on the shelf, Bunny nearly let it slip from her hands. Her heart was thundering and fingers slippery. She knew that if she was caught red handed now, this would be last day she ever saw daylight. Her father would not have this. He didn’t like unsubordinate little women. He wanted them meek and mild, not curious and self established.

Rushing towards the door, Bunny already tried to find excuses to tell. Perhaps she had heard a faint noise and since she couldn’t find the guards, went to see for it herself. Perhaps she thought she heard Alfi. Perhaps she..

‘My mother has a dog.’ Luigi’s chuckle reverberated up the stairwell. Bunny sighed and relaxed a little. Luigi didn’t give a crap about these administrational books. He cared more about appearances, self pampering and other slightly dubious male activities. Pressing her ear back against the door she listened, but no further words came. It were two pairs of feet, moving in the same direction. Towards the Englishman’s room, or hers. Oh no. Oh no! You can’t be saying they were looking for her!

Making sure the footsteps were far enough away, Bunny unclicked the door and rushed into the hallway. The men were gone. Though their voices returned, chuckling through Jack’s door.

Bunny knew at that moment that she would be better off if she just went back to her room. She was putting her nose in things she didn’t understand. In things she wasn’t supposed to understand.

‘Oh Jack!’ Luigi exclaimed, followed by a bit of laughter. Bunny quietly moved in closer, ears peaking to pick up the sounds. But no more sounds came.

Then Bunny made another mistake. She watched. Women weren’t supposed to see these things. But here she was, bending over and peeking in through the keyhole. Inside the well-lit room stood the two men. Jackets removed, embracing. But it wasn’t the type of embrace she knew. This was..different. Long lasting. Luigi’s hands were on the Englishman’s buttocks. And it lasted too long. This was..this was. Bunny watched in shock and awe through the tiny keyhole. And then Jack’s blue eyes found hers.

Fuck.

--

Chap 4 >

--

General tagsquad: @harrysthiccthighss​ @tumblnewby @magdelen69​ @thereisa8ella​ @darkbooksarwin​ @summersong69​ @madbaddic7ed​ @luclittlepond​ @maroonmolly @just-a-normal-fangirl18​ @hell1129-blog​ @agniavateira​ @tillthelandslide​ @elinesama​ @maddyreads14

[simptasia]

ultimate ship meme ask <3 for science trio!

ah, thank you! i’m so sorry it took me this long to respond, i didn’t mean for 2 bloody weeks to pass. i kept procrastinating or being too tired

daniel + charlotte + miles

General:

Rate the Ship Awful | Ew | No pics pls | I’m not comfortable | Alright | I like it! | Got Pics? | Let’s do it! | Why is this not getting more attention?! | The OT3 to Rule all other OT3s

How long will they last? 

eternity and then some

How quickly did/will they fall in love?

daniel @ charlotte, i’m thinking like a week or so. kinda hit him like a bullet

charlotte @ daniel, two or three weeks

daniel @ miles, somewhere from a couple of months to a year

charlotte @ miles, in living timeline didn’t happen, in limboverse, i’ll give her 3 months. and she loved him as a friend already anyways. i imagine it’s her who brings miles into the fold, allowing the sci trio to be fully realised

miles @ daniel and charlotte, oh Fuck Knows. it happens, but [shrugs]. and i like the idea that miles didn’t realise he was in love with daniel and charlotte (and sawyer and juliet) until waaay after their time together. like he falls in love with richard and then The Power Of Hindsight kinda fucks him over

(and for anybody who gets snippy saying that “a couple of weeks is too quick to fall in love!” or some shit: my bf fell in love with me in 2 weeks, and for me it took a month. so nyeh. also hurley/libby, sayid/shannon and charlie/claire)

How was their first kiss?

all of these take place in limboverse

daniel/charlotte: so i imagine this happens like right after they Remember, so emotions are running high and char is like “i’m gonna do something i should have done when we were alive” and just sorta grabs dan’s face and <3

and dan is stunned for a second and then sinks into it. you know that lovely trope of somebody being kissed and their eyes are open and then they practically melt closed from the kissy feelings. and they’re soulmates and this has been a long time coming and i feel cliche but uh, fireworks

daniel/miles: so the three of them have started Their Thing and like, they’re in a sexual relationship now but because char started this, dan is unsure about like, do him and miles do... stuff... together too? is that a thing? they were all touching each other during The Event. plus dan isn’t exactly sure how he feels about miles, but he’s been slowly getting more attracted to him over time. and also dan’s never been with a guy before. so yeah dan is overthinking things and meanwhile, miles is like “if he’s up for it, i’m down” but keeping his distance because like, it’s dan and he doesn’t know if dan is into him

that was a long build up to say, eventually the dan/miles side of the triangle does get figured out and after a moment of awkwardness dan kisses miles, tentative at first and then That Spark happens and they both get into it. at one moment miles pulls back just a bit and dan deliriously like... chases his mouth. because it turns out kissing miles is awesome. and miles notes dan’s a good kisser too, and dan isn’t even offended at the surprised in miles’ tone. 

so in short, dan and miles’ first kiss went on for longer than miles expected because dan got tingly soup brain

also in both of dan’s first kisses with these two he kept his hands to himself outta 1. not thinking clearly because Mouth Things and 2. awkwardness. both char and miles had to grab dan’s hands and place them upon themselves, to remind him, you have these, please use them (there’s a line i give char: “i think you’d find i have many lovely things below my shoulders, dan”). from then on, dan is Characteristically Handsy. annnnyways!

charlotte/miles: it was very shortly after they met actually. pierre introduced them at the museum and there was attraction yes, but also this spark which they both wordlessly acknowledge. when pierre has left (just to get coffee hjjdhasa), they talk for a bit and then casually agree to go somewhere private. a coat check room. they got hit with familiarity and both of them being the type of people who have casual sex that information translated into “i’m gonna fuck this person now”

so basically their first kiss was messy, frantic, impulsive, clothes quickly being taken off, etc etc. thats how their friends with benefits thing started, even before they were friends, really. this was years ago and they became besties

Wedding:

in this set-up, it’d be dan and char getting married

Who proposed?

dan, technically but it wasn’t a surprise. marriage was something both of them discussed for a while before and char was the one who brought it up

(and here is where she jokes “you know what my mum would say about me marrying an american” and daniel gets an Awful Feeling from that)

Who is the best man/men?

well, miles, of course. richard is also one of the groomsman <3

Who is the braid’s maid(s)?

Why Weren’t You Allowed To Have Lady Friends

and besides that, most of the available women in lost have Moved On

annnnd i just remembered char has two sisters. chelsea and chloe

Who did the most planning?

char. it’s not that dan doesn’t care, it’s just she just has more preferences. patterns and colours and things like that. but they all pitch in at least a little

tho miles is the least help. at one point char holds up two swatches for bridesmaids dresses and asks which one he likes more (she’ll decide herself, she just wants Interaction, for her nerves) and miles doesn’t look up from his magazine and says “the left one”. char is annoyed and he says “whichever one is closest to purple”. they’re each a shade of green and blue

Who stressed the most?

oh, char. she never thought she’d get married so she’s never really emotionally prepared herself for it. or for planning a event like this. she isn’t paitent with people she doesn’t already like so dealing with wedding business people has been a task. and just. marriage isn’t stressful, weddings are. which is why dan is gonna be a good boy and absolutely help. and miles is also helping...

char: and how exactly have you been helping??

miles: [serious tone] i’m the plucky comic relief

char: [death glare]

miles: ...i’ll go pick up the flowers

- later -

daniel: heeey miles, you know how you and charlotte like to playfully snipe at each other? ...you can’t do that right now, she’s kinda stressed

miles: [wheeling in dozens of lillies] yeah, i figured that

char, from the other room: WHY ARE CAKES SO FUCKING EXPENSIVE

How fancy was the ceremony?

Back of a pickup truck | 2 | 3 | 4 | Normal Church Wedding | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Kate and William wish they were this big.

i’ll give this a 7 outta 10 on the “ooh aah” scale. oh yeah they could absolutely afford a huge fuck off wedding but they didn’t want one. also another reason they didn’t have a Huge Wedding is that dan, char and miles legit don’t know enough people i always picture their wedding happens in like a park. a nice one. and there’s a real prevalant flower motif happening here. arch covered in flowers, petals on the ground, lotsa white lillies about. there’s a real English Garden / cottage aesthetic vibe to this. char’s got a flower in her hair and i just decided her wedding dress has like cloth white flowers on it, not all over it. so like, the whole thing is cute and elegant  and flowery and more expensive than it looks. the main colours being used are white, light blue and lilac

oh oh, the cake is chocolate on the inside! and it’s white (duh) but with lilac flower trim around each layer. char never planned for a wedding before but once she adjusted to the idea she was like “this is gonna be really really pretty”

Who was specifically not invited to the wedding?

eloise. no explanation needed

Sex:

Who is on top?

well, everybody who can be, has been. char has defo given dan and miles the strap. the least toppage going on is dan topping miles. very rarely happens

Who is the one to instigate things?

well, char is the Most instigate-y and dan is the least instigate-y, with miles in the middle. and damn if that doesn’t sum up their dynamic

How healthy is their sex life?

Barely touch themselves let alone each other | 2 | 3 | 4 | Once a couple weeks, nothing overboard | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They are humping each other on the couch right now

gonna give them all, overall, a reasonable eight. it happens a Lot, but it’s not a crazy amount. (except when dan and char are trying for a baby, then dan is... dan is... lovingly tenderized)

there’s diff variables (heh) at play here, but for the most part theres quite a bit of sex going all around. so yeah, their neighbours don’t like them very much, because char is Really Really Loud and easily satisfied

How kinky are they?

Straight missionary with the lights off | 2 | 3 | 4 | Might try some butt stuff and toys | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Don’t go into the sex dungeon without a horse’s head

that 8 is via the power of char and miles’ kinky tastes

dan is decidedly more vanilla but willing to try new things. and he’s got some latent kinks/fetishes hiding in him that these two bring out of him

i’ve gone into this many times but basically char is into being dominating, miles loves pain and as far as dan’s brain is concerned, Charlotte Is A Fetish

there’s more going on than that, but i’m being succint

How long do they normally last?

miles doesn’t last notably long, or notably short. but he seems like a real stayer in comparison to dan and charlotte. char comes quickly and repeatedly

dan, oh dan, he’s not. he’s not lasting long. this is not bad thing. he was worried about it at first but char is a-okay with this. she wuvs her boy. and besides, he has pretty good recovery. so second round if the first round was like a bit “oh”

dan is sensitive (and autistic!), sex is a Lot for him. anyways miles has defo joked about these two cumming at the drop of a hate. another reason the neighbours are annoyed, Please Go To Sleep Charlotte (nyet)

Do they make sure each person gets an equal amount of orgasms?

nobody here is unsatisified

How rough are they in bed? -

Softer than a butterfly on the back of a bunny | 2 | 3 | 4 | The bed’s shaking and squeaking every time | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | Their dirty talk is so vulgar it’d make Dwayne Johnson blush. Also, the wall’s so weak it could collapse the next time they do it

on this scale, i’m giving dan/char a 2 to 4, char/miles a 5 to 10 and dan/miles a 3 to 6. and all together oh... anything could happen

the general “rule” is Take It Easy On Dan, He’s Delicate

How much cuddling/snuggling do they do?

No touching after sex | 2 | 3 | 4 | A little spooning at night, or on the couch, but not in public | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | They snuggle and kiss more often than a teen couple on their fifth date to a pillow factory

so much. so much cuddle snuggle uwuwuwuwu no no get back here miles you cannot escape, come back here and be loved

dan is a major cuddler, very tactile, char is pretty affectionate. miles used to be “meh” on affection but he’s warm to it these three cuddling in bed lives rent free in my head 24/7

Children:

How many children will they have naturally?

i’ve given dan and char 4 kids (three girls and a boy). penny, ada, marie and isaac. i’ve made charts about this

hypothetically, like in sims, i’ve given char and miles a daughter but i’m not commited to that idea, like i don’t have that in my Internal Canon

but he’s their papa too, emotionally <3

How many children will they adopt?

none, unless you count rats

Who gets stuck with the most diapers?

dan’s job requires the least Work, so he’s at home more often, so yeah

Who is the stricter parent?

char, but she’s not strict strict, this is just in comparison to daniel “but i can’t say mean things to my babies” faraday and miles “wanna learn how to shoplift?” straume. she’s not a Mean Nagging Mum stereotype tho, i won’t allow it

Who stops the kid(s) from doing dangerous stunts after school?

dan and char are Equally “you can’t be doing stuff like this, it’s not safe” whilst miles is lowkey encouraging it. but after a stern look he has to admit riding a scooter on the school roof is kinda fucked up. like miles is... miles but he doesn’t want his babies like actually hurt, he’s still a good dad

Who remembers to pack the lunch(es)?

dan dan the photographic memory man

Who is more likely to attend the PTA meetings?

char, because i think that’d be really funny. and i want all of them to go to at least one meeting together, because they heard some bitch refer to their daughter marie as “that weird child” and that she warned her children to keep away from dan, char and miles kids. and also she refered to dan, char and miles as “deviants” cuz she feels kids shouldn’t have three parents

soooo char is going to publicly cut her down. verbally and viciously. dan and miles are also angery but they’re there to make sure char doesn’t actually physically beat this woman. and also this final caveat:

miles: [eating a sad looking muffin] and your muffins suck too

Who cried the most at graduation?

char but dan and miles are crying too

Who is more likely to bail the child(ren) out of trouble with the law?

MILES IS A COP!!! and it’s never felt so good until the moment ada got busted for drinking at a party when she was only 17. oh miles isn’t that abusing your authority? “yeah but every cop does that, i may as well do it for my kid”

yeah, that crime is  the worst thing i could think of for this, i don’t think these people’s kids would do like actual bad crimes

Cooking:

Who does the most cooking?

you know, i tend to picture miles cooking the most. my typical default for imagining char and miles chatting is that they’re in the kitchen, she’s holding tea and he’s making something on the stove. typically mac & cheese. or bacon

but really i think they all cook a decent amount

Who is the most picky in their food choice?

dan because he’s autistic and has some medical requirements, like my esoteric headcanon that he cannot digest meat at all

Who does the grocery shopping?

char and miles are more used to it, whilst i imagine dan has barely set foot in a grocery store in his life. but upon, like, being a grown up, he starts going more with char and miles and he likes it, for the most part. the lights are a bitch, tho

i think dan does it the least, miles the most, and char and miles go together more often than not. oh, and when char is out of pads and she forgot to stock up, miles is the designated Get Me Pads And Painkillers You Bastard man

tho that trope always confused me, as somebody who has at least 5 packages of pads in my pad drawer at all times. are there really period having people who don’t stock up ahead of time and have to ask their significant other?

but i digress

How often do they bake desserts?

not notably often, but i’ve defo imagined miles making Special Brownies

which daniel proceeded to eat all of in a fit of I’m Suddenly Very Hungry

what’s that puddle over there? oh it’s just dan

but anyways thinking on this, i can see these three making a cake together. and it goes a little wonky because their kitchen is small and Too Many Cooks. but a flat chocolate cake is a cake nonetheless. monch

Are they more of a meat lover or a salad eater?

dan: salad, the other option is No Good, so my boy is a vegetarian

char: i’ve made her more a meat lover than a veggie lover (tis her love of a proper English Breakfast) but not overally so

miles: defo likes meat (and savoury things in general) over salad. he’s not one of those guys whose a dickhead about it tho. veggies are just alright to him

tho i can see miles teasing dan about his “rabbit food diet” (which isn’t even apt because rabbits aren’t in the habit of mainlining noodles and pasta)

Who is more likely to surprise the other(s) with an anniversary dinner?

aaahh this feels like something dan would do, he wants to be ~womantic~

Who is more likely to suggest going out?

char, the extroverted outdoorsy one

Who is more likely to burn the house down accidently while cooking?

dan because he got distracted by something. like he was cooking something in the oven and then some Musical Thoughts overtake him and he’s gotta write it down and wait 30 minutes have past OH GOD THE PIE BEEP BEEP BEEP

Chores:

Who cleans the room?

The Room. the Singular Room

anyways they all clean, it’s not very interesting to think about

Who is really against chores?

none of them. miles will half-heartedly complain sometimes but he grew up used to helping out around the house

Who cleans up after the pets?

dan and char clean up after their rats and cat because they are responsible pet owners. and char will clean miles’ wounds because jean-luc is a bastard cat

Who is more likely to sweep everything under the rug?

what kind of idiot... No!

Who stresses the most when guests are coming over?

i can’t see this, like any of them getting stressed about that

Who found a dollar between the couch cushions while cleaning?

miles’ dollar now

Misc:

Who takes the longer showers/baths?

dan takes longer showers, char takes longer baths

Who takes the dog out for a walk?

no dog, only kitty. kitties don’t go for walks

How often do they decorate the room/house for the holidays?

ohh i imagine char decks the place out for christmas. she loves christmas because good family memories. and also she has knitted christmas jumpers for her boys (and cat). christmas and halloween is the only major holiday that they got ham for. and by they, i mean char and miles

dan is just happy to be here

char: you know miles, it’s january and that little bat is still hanging above the fireplace

miles: if you wanna take him down, you can

char: ...no, i just wanted to adknowledge him

dan: he’s part of the family

What are their goals for the relationship?

uh, love, sex and babies. duh

Who is most likely to sleep till noon?

miles. coffee keeps him on his work schedule

Who plays the most pranks?

well, miles, obviously. i can’t think of any because i don’t really go for pranks but nothing elaborate, simple stuff. does that “orders a black coffee at macdonalds when your kids are in the backseat” count as a prank. miles would do that, pause for enough time for the kids to be like :O and then ask for their orders

there! done! wowee, bless any y’all who take the time to read All Of That

[thiswasinevitableid]

The Wicked House

Prompt for the 31st was: Wicked. Thanks to @thats-amnesty-babe and Morgan E Ashton for the help brainstorming.

Duck whacks his hands together, clearing the dust from them, before raising a hand in friendly farewell to the movers. He picks his way through the boxes, up the stairs, and to his bedroom. Opening the door sends a bolt of dark, fluffed-up fur into the hallway.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sorry fuzzball, but I couldn’t have you bein underfoot or runnin out the door.” He scratches the cat behind her ears, and her affronted glare gives way to forgiving purrs. 

He unpacks for awhile, finds a good luck note from Juno tucked in the winter coat she gave him (“I mean it, Duck, winter up there’s a hell of a lot colder than here in West Virginia”). Orders pizza, gets the kitchen table set up in time to eat it. Flips through his to-do list for the next few days as he does. 

ka-BOOM

Winnie yowls and runs from the room as Duck nearly falls out of his chair. 

“What the fuck?” He dashes outside, expecting to find an exploded car or downed powerline.

He finds nothing of the sort. None of his neighbors are even poking their heads out. There’s a smaller boom, from the house next to his (his is on the corner, so only has one neighbor). 

“Well, Woodbridge finally managed to offload one of these places, huh?”

He turns to find a rather prim looking woman walking a furious looking Pomeranian. 

“Beg pardon?”

“You’re the first person to buy any of the houses near that wicked place in years.”

Duck looks around again. Every house on the block, save for his own darkly painted victiorian and the brightly painted one next to it, has a sun-worn for sale sign in the yard. 

“What the fuck?”

---------------------------------------------

“Oh, so you’re the guy who bought the house next to Indrid Colds place?” The man at the grocery store asks as he rings him up. Duck  was overjoyed to find a real mom and pop place near his house and Leo, the owner, has been chatting with him.

“So it seems.”

“Don’t let folks make you too jittery about it. Indrid’s an odd guy, but he don’t mean no harm.”

“What the hell does he do? All kinds of weird lights and noises and shit coming from that place.”

“Not a clue. Seems like you’re in a better position to find out than most of us.” He tilts his head towards the beer Duck is loading into a bag.

“Dunno, kinda like havin all my limbs. Not sure I’ll keep ‘em all if I go in there.”

Leo shrugs, “suit yourself.”

As Duck walks home with his groceries, he mulls over the suggestion; sure, the loud noises aren’t great, but they no worse and no more frequent than a loud party or a neighbor with barky dogs. 

He sets the bags down on his front step, fumbling to find which pocket he put his keys in. 

“Don’t move!”

He freezes, finds a tall man with silvery hair moving purposefully up his drive. He’s in a long, silk bathrobe and bunny slippers, bright red glasses perched on his nose. When he places his hands on Ducks shoulders and starts moving him back off the porch, Duck tenses, tries to pull away.

He can’t. The man is surprisingly strong for such a beanpole.

“Hey, pal, look-”

“No, you look.” He points a finger, and Duck squints for a beat before seeing it; a black widow, dangling on a thread as she lowers down from his door frame. 

“Shit, almost walked right into her.”

“Yes, you did. I thought you might prefer not to.”

Duck takes another look at the stranger, including the spot where his hand is still resting on Ducks arm. The other man follows the gaze, pulls his hand back apologetically. 

“Gonna go out on a limb here and say you’re Indrid Cold.”

“Oh, you’ve heard of me!”  Indrid smiles brightly, only to have the expression falter, “oh, ah, you’ve heard of me. I can’t say I blame people for trying to warn you away from me, given my reputation.” The last few words come out so soft and resigned, the kind of vulnerability that’s either a trap or the truth of someone who has gone a little too long without the benefit of the doubt.

“Reputation don’t matter half as much as your actions. Far as I’m concerned, the only thing I know you done for sure is save me from a nasty spider bite.” He smiles kindly, holds out his hand, “I’m-”

“-Duck Newton.” Indrid takes it, shaking it with an oddly wide smile. 

“Uh, right. Well, I’m gonna get rid of that widow, but if you wanted to come in for a beer or coffee or somethin I wouldn’t be opposed.”

“That sounds wonderful but, oh, oh dear, um, excuse me something’s just come up. Hope to see you again.” He dashes back down the path, down the sidewalk, and up the steps to his bright yellow door. 

“Huh.” Duck watches the door for a moment, then goes to get a broom. 

--------------------------------------------------------

The diner smells like eggs, bacon, and butter when Duck steps in from the chill of the early September air. 

It’s quiet, but he settles on a spot at the counter all the same, in case they need the booths for bigger groups. 

“Good morning,” a cheerful, somewhat crunchy-granola looking blonde woman greets him, pad in hand “any coffee or tea this morning?” 

“Coffee, please.”

“You got it.” She spins, grabs the pot, and pours him a mug. Several of the flatops are where Duck can see them, being worked expertly by a man who must be well over six feet tall. Whatever he’s moving about on them smells incredible.

“Ready to order.”

“Whatever he’s cookin right there.”

“Hash it is.” She smiles again.

The cook nods, and as he sets to work he asks, “you just passing through?”

“Naw, moved here a few weeks ago, got a job in the national forest.”

“Right on.”

“Oh yeah.” A voice behind him says, and he finds two older men sizing him up, “you’re the fella who got duped into buying next to Cold’s place.”

“He’s a man, Clarence, not fucking black mold.” The cook grumbles.

“How’s living next to the wicked witch treating you?” The second man, in a red ball-cap, asks.

“Warlock.” Says a clipped voice. It takes Duck a moment to see it belongs to the man going over receipts at the register, slick dark hair flecked with grey and face movie-star handsome, “if Indrid did have those abilities you all seem convinced he does, he’d be a warlock, not a witch.”

“How would you know?” Red cap retorts.

“Ey, shut up Jim, you know the boy was in the CIA. Better not disrespect him.”

“FBI, not CIA

“All I’m saying is that wherever Cold goes, disaster follows. Not to mention the man’s a known f-”

“One more syllable and you’ve got a lifetime ban.” Barclay points the spatula towards the men.

In the midst of the standoff, the bell dings. 

And Indrid Cold walks into the diner.

 He’s bundled up like it’s snowing, walks up to the counter and pauses when he sees Duck. 

Duck pats the stool next to him, “Nice to see you again, neighbor.”

“Likewise.” Indrid gives that odd smile again and sits down, “Good morning Barclay, Joseph.” He nods first to the cook, then the man at the register, “Oh, and hello Dani. The usual, please.”

Dani grins, turns to one of the drink machines and comes back moments later with a cup of cocoa.

“I can’t handle how bitter coffee is, even with sugar.” Indrid says, two seconds before Duck is going to ask him why that drink.

“You’re braver than I am, that much sugar this early’d have me on the ceilin.”

Indrid smiles softly, “Lightweight.”

Duck barks out a laugh, making Indrid snicker as well. 

“Any plans for this weekend, Duck?” 

“Got some new model ships to work on, might go for a hike, nothin too excitin.”

“You don’t get enough hiking at work?” Indrid cocks his head.

“I mean, not really? It’s different when I’m on my own; I don’t got an agenda or shit I’m supposed to be takin care of. I can just go at my own pace.”

Indrid makes a noise of understanding right as Barclay sets two plates down. Indrids’ is piled with pancakes and strawberries. 

Barclay points a can of whipped cream down at the plate, “say when.”

The tower of cream is almost a foot high before Indrid goes, “when.”

As they eat, they chat about this and that, though mostly Indrid asks Duck about his move, and how he’s liking the town. Then he muses, “I’d like to go hiking sometime. I really ought to get out a bit more.”

“You can come with me sometime, if you want.”

“Really?”

“Sure, long as you don’t mind me talkin about trees.”

“Not in the slightest.”

Duck raises his glass in cheers, “well, if you decide you want to, you know where to find me.”

---------------------------------------------------------------

Duck balances the plate of cornbread (his fathers no-fail recipe)  in one hand as he lifts the other to knock on the door.

“Come in!” Indrid calls a half-second before his hands meets the wood. 

The inside of Indrid’s house is laid out much the same as Ducks own. This is where the similarities end. There are drawings scattered everywhere, pinned to walls and strewn across tables. Art and posters and letters cover the walls, each of which is painted a different color.

As he makes his way into the kitchen he notices chalk and bottles of salt, piles of old books, and many, many, many sweaters. 

Indrid is at the sink, filling a kettle with water. 

“You’re right on time, I was just making myself some tea. Though I can make something stronger if you prefer.”

“Tea’s fine.” Duck sets the plate down, “figured I oughta make a proper, neighborly introduction.”

He leaves out the part where, in the two days since they spoke at the diner, he’s thought about Indrid quite a bit. And that whenever an explosion or other odd occurrence came from next door, Ducks’ first response is no longer annoyance; it’s worry. What if something bad happened and Indrid had no one checking on him?

“I’ve been thinking” Indrid sets a mug down in front of him, sits across from him at the rickety table, “there’s a little get-together at the Lodge, that hotel on the edge of town, this weekend. If you were interested, we could hike out that way and then stop by after.”

“You know the folks there?”

“I do. Barclay and Joseph live in one of the cottages, Dani lives in the lodge proper, and they were kind enough to invite me to movie night once. I suppose I found my people, so to speak, there even if I still am a bit solitary.”

“Be happy to come, like to get to know more folks in town myself.” Duck glances back from examining some nearby drawings, and immediately knows he gave the right answer. Indrid is looking at him like he hung every star in the sky. 

------------------------------

Ducks’ gotten used to the occasional smoke detector cry from next door.

But this one isn’t stopping. 

He grabs the fire extinguisher from under his sink and bolts out one front door and into another. 

Smoke drifts down the stairs and Indrid is nowhere in sight. So up the stairs he goes, turning into the room where the smoke is the worst. Mercifully, there is no actual fire, just clear signs of one being hastily and messily put out. He opens the windows, and after a few minutes of cross-breeze the alarm shuts off. 

It’s only then that he hears a tap running and someone muttering. 

He crosses the hall, finds Indrid glaring into the mirror over the bathroom sink, trying to sooth a nasty looking burn on his arm. 

“Shit, what happened?” 

Indrid stares at the water, “just an accident. I was careless. I’ll be alright.”

“Here, lemme look at your arm-yeah, okay, I’m gonna go grab my first aid kit from my place.”  

He’s out and back as fast as he can manage, returns to find Indrid sitting on the toilet lid, sulking. 

Duck holds out his hand and Indrid flops his wrist into it. As gently as he can, Duck tends to the burn. It’s not bad enough to need a hospital, but it’s still a nasty looking mark.

“What were you tryin to do?” He asks softly.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me?”

“I have certain...abilities. Magic. Most of it related to seeing the future. But some of it is more general, or is in other fields of the discipline, and I was trying to use one field to influence a future and it backfired.”

Duck considers him a moment, then gently squeezes his hand, “hey, it’s okay if you don’t wanna tell me. Don’t gotta make a story up on my behalf.”

“I’m not MAKING IT UP!” Indrid shouts, yanking his hand away and standing up.

“Indrid, you don’t expect me to believe-”

“ What? That I’m stuck seeing futures I can’t stop, stuck with powers I still can’t fully control, that I’ve made myself an outcast time and again all because of these blasted things.” He rips off his glasses and chucks them down the hall. Crumples to the floor, head in his hands.

Cautiously, Duck scooches across the hardwood. He wants to reach out, to soothe the tensed lines of Indrids’ body. But he’s not sure that’s what Indrid wants. Not sure if he’s royally fucked everything up.

“Okay, I’m listenin.” His voice, gentle as it is, may as well be coming through a megaphone for how Indrid flinches. Then he looks at his newly bandaged arm. 

“Ten years ago, I bought those glasses from a little curio shop. I thought they were stylish. I put them on when I got home and everything changed. Long story short, the glasses are a conduit to a demonish creature. When I put them on, he became my patron. I gained his ability to see the future, as well as some other powers. I panicked, tried to take the glasses back, but the store was simply gone. Turns out if I try to forsake his gift, it will go very badly for me, so I have to wear them all the time, save for sleep and things like that.”

“Jesus.”

“I’ve been trying to use my powers to stop the disasters I see coming but so often it doesn’t work, and then I have to watch it play out in real time after seeing it again and again in my head.” He stands, slowly, and walks to retrieve the glasses, “or when I try to do enchantments, sometimes things go haywire. Did you happen to see the little succulent garden in the living room?”

“You mean the one that’s as big as your coffee table?”

“Yes. That was originally two succulents. I bought them as a housewarming gift for you then decided maybe four was better. So I tried to magic up two more. And got a garden instead.” He’s still as he speaks, glasses held in his palm, “It isn’t all bad. I have been able to stop some things, and I’ve gotten much better at magic. But the failures so often dwarf that.”

“Indrid?” Duck stands in the bathroom doorway, waits for his friend to turn around before continuing, “thank you for tellin me all that. And I’m sorry I didn’t believe you.”

Indrid’s smile is weak, but genuine.

“Are there, uh, things that help when this happens? You seem real upset and if I can help you feel better, I’d like to.”

“T.V, the mindless kind.”

Duck holds out his hand, “C’mon, let’s go downstairs.”

Indrid settles on the violet couch, wrapping himself in a thick blanket as Duck flips channels. 

“You’re from West Virgina, right?”

“Yep.”

“Then you may be familiar with my patron. I don’t know his true name, but everyone just calls him mothman.”

Duck drops the remote.

“Mothman? As in Silver Bridge, Point Pleasant, TNT plant, and all that shit?”

“Yes.” Indrid says mildly. 

“Holy shit.” He fishes the remote from under the couch.

“That’s a remarkably succinct reaction.”

“Hush you, you know I ain’t a man of many words.”

“Duck, two days ago you talked for half an hour about Kudzu.” Indrid shoots him a teasing smile, and Duck elbows him lightly. 

“Oooh, a Halloween cooking championship! Let’s watch that.”

Duck sets the remote down, joins Indrid under the blanket when the taller man opens it for him.

“You doin anythin for Halloween?”

“No” Indrid sighs, “I love it, but after the ‘living pumpkin incident,’ parents stopped letting their children trick or treat here.”

“Hmmmmm” Duck rests his hand just beside Indrids’, strokes it absentmindedly with his pinkie “y’know, Indrid, I think I got a way to fix that…..”

-----------------------------------

Duck waves goodbye to the group of trick or treaters as they scurry back down the walkway. He has to hand it to Indrid: the man really has an eye for decoration.

The yard is strung with glowing cobwebs and purple lights, bats made of purple shadow and glitter flitting through the air.  The multitude of Jack’O Lanterns flicker in a rainbow of colors, thanks to Indrid doing an enchantment on the flames. 

Ducks house is equally festive, Indrid choosing orange lights and one (magically) large pumpkin to contrast with the dark wood of the building. Currently Aubrey (Dani’s wife) and her giant rabbit (Dr Harris Bonkers, PhD) are seated on Duck’s front step on candy duty. Duck had asked for his new friends help after realizing just how nervous Indrid was that something would go haywire, and decided it was best if he was there to keep him company.

It’s been a successful Halloween so far; no explosions, no disasters, no decorations accidentally coming to life. He and Indrid chat between visitors, The Creature from the Black Lagoon plays in the background, and both of them have eaten more candy than two grown men probably should. Not a single kid who’s come to the door seems afraid of Indrid. Some are curious, and some have parents that definitely watch them closely. But most are just happy to get candy.

Best of all, whenever they’re seated on the couch, or waiting to open the door, Indrid holds Ducks hand, or sighs happily when Duck rests his arm around his shoulder.

The groups are becoming less and less frequent, and stars peek out from behind the clouds, when Indrid turns to him.

“Thank you, Duck.”

“Hey, wasn’t gonna miss an excuse to hang out with you and poach your candy.”

Indrid chuckles, “Not just for that. For everything, for being kind, for getting to know me and not writing me off as wicked. I-” He falters, turns away suddenly.

Duck may not have foresight, but he’s perceptive all the same.

“Want me to finish that sentence for you?”

Indrid looks at him wide-eyed as the ranger steps into his space, “Please.”

“I wanna get to know you better.” Duck grins, moves to pull Indrid to him.

Indrid beats him to it, grabbing his shirt and pulling him into a kiss. Ducks back hits the door, Indrids fingers digging into his hair. He holds him tight, and as demanding as his kisses are the taller man’s whole body is shaking like the last leaf on a tree.

When they pull apart, Indrid rests their foreheads together.

“Yes, Duck, I would very much like to get to know you better.”

Duck kisses him again, keeps him close as he whispers, “well, happy fuckin halloween to me.”

Indrid kisses his cheek, “Indeed.”

[xnovamore]

Storming the Castle

@femslashfairies2020 Day 7 Prompt: Royalty. This is apart of my Home is Where They Are Erzajane series but can be read as a stand alone. All you need to know is that its set in a peaceful post-canon world where Erza is guildmaster and Mirajane is the unofficial co-guildmaster who runs also runs magic school out of the guild hall and they have 2 adopted non-magical children.

Read on Ao3

In a world where two esteemed S-class wizards, one the infamous Queen of Fairies and current leader of the Fairy Tail Guild and the other the beautiful but dangerous she-devil and unofficial co-guild leader, with a relationship history of rivalry and one-upping each other like there's, it’s no surprise that they’ve run into some arguments from time to time. Comprising was by far the biggest lesson the two had needed to learn in their 8 years together as a couple. Pride and the need to have the last word were left behind to make room for late night heart-to-hearts and early morning make-up sex. Over the years they learned to be patient with each other, to listen to the other’s point and find a way to meet in the middle without resulting to a screaming match or sparring in the middle of their living room.

But that all changed now that they’re parents to an 11-year old and a 4-year-old. Because instead of two strong willed women butting heads every once in a while, it’s now an entire household of stubbornness colliding with each other at the worst of times. Erza and Mira prided themselves on raising two strong independent children but there were moments like these that reminded them how hard parenting could be.

Today was Sunday and both Mirajane and Erza tried to make sure they could spend most of the day with their family, given that there were no world ending threats or fires at the guild that need to be put out. Sundays were a day for just the two of them and their little loves to go out on exploring together or stay in and cuddle up near the fire trading stories of their week over board games and coco. Taking a look at the strong wind and heavy rain outside, both women had agreed that staying in today was best and went about their morning routine. They would freshen up and shower together flirting in the bathroom and lingering in the shower until the water ran cold. Then Mirajane would head down the stairs of their little two-story cottage to gather breakfast in the kitchen while Erza walked down the hallway to wake their slumbering loves. Andre’s room was right next to their bedroom and waking him always took the most effort. But once he heard the promise of breakfast a day with his mothers and sister’s undivided attention he usually took off to the bathroom to get ready. Erza would then go knock on Rhea’s door to make sure she was awake, which she usually was, before helping Andre get pick clothes that at least semi-matched. Then the family of four would eat breakfast together chatting idly about what the plan of the day was.

This is where they ran into a problem. It’s been about two hours since they finished breakfast and yet they still haven’t reached an agreement on what they were going to do today.

Rhea wanted to play with the mega dollhouse Gajeel and Levy had gotten her for her last birthday and insisted it was big enough that the four of them could all play with the dolls together like they used too when she was younger

Andre wanted to go play wizard and ignored all talk of ‘bunny it’s raining outside’. He had the play sword Natsu gifted him perched on his side and waited impatiently by the door for them to join him on his world-saving quest

And Erza couldn’t say she disagreed with him. If not for the fear of the rainstorm turning into a thunderstorm (they all knew of Andre’s bad reaction to thunderstorms and it was their job as parents to protect him from these things) she would be pacing by the door with him. Erza loved running through the hills near the house with her children and wife pretending to search for treasure and fight invisible monsters. She was not able to have this kind of play where there were no actual stakes or real harm involved when she was younger. She felt extremely lucky to be able to do it now

Mirajane wasn’t sure what she wanted to do today. She just knew that neither of those suggestions sounded best. She sat thinking things over as the frustration in the room grew higher and higher.

Finally, Andre snapped.

He raised his play sword into the air and swung it around for good measure. “I gonna go sway drawons on my own then!” He crossed his arms in a huff glaring obviously trying to hide his hurt that they wouldn’t come on his quest with him.

Before his mothers could intervene Rhea moved towards him with her hand on her hips and a stern glare. “No, you’re not! You’re not allowed to leave this house Andre!”. This would be the time that two would intervene and calm things down but everything about Rhea’s posture and disapproving aura reminded Erza so much of a tiny upset Mirajane that she was momentary silenced. All Rhea was missing was that patronizing finger-wag and Erza could swear that she was seeing double. She glanced over at her wife wondering if she saw the mirroring as well, but it was clear that Mirajane was lost in thought. Her wife’s eyes were transfixed on Andre’s sword until she shouted, “Aha!” making the three around her jump.

Mirajane’s smile was wide as she ushered them upstairs. “Come on, I know how were going to spend the day.”

It took hours to make all the costumes, but they came out amazing. Rhea’s dress was sky-blue with Mirajane’s white pearls around her neck and a golden toy crown on top of her head. Mirajane had a dark blue dress with the shining sliver bracelet Erza had gotten her on their anniversary one year and a matching gold crown. Both of their hair were curled and flowed downward in waves. They looked amazing and Mirajane’s heart felt full as watched Rhea twirl around in her dress. Outside of the pillow fort they were hidden inside of they could hear Andre and Erza’s loud whispering of their plan to down the walls and get inside. The two were wearing matching armor that Erza was able to summon for them. Mirajane had her concerns about letting the four-year-old into a full body suit of armor but the twinkle in Andre’s eyes when he tried it on made it hard to say no. It took some getting used too but within a short time Andre was moving around in the heavy suit like second skin to him. With his sword poised and ready he listened to Commander Erza’s calls as they fought through armies of stuffed animals and dodged pillow land mines to reach the pillow fort hiding his mother and sister. They had fought their way from the top floor to the living room to rescue his mommy and sister and then it was going to be his and mama’s turn to dress up prettily and be rescued. Mama lifted her hand in forward motion and they both charged at the stuff animals in their path as mommy and Rhea called for them behind the pillow castle.

All in all, it was a good day.

[imaginefanganronpas]

Heyo! Could I have some HCs about Mikado hiring Syobai so he would have someone to prank their classmates with him? Syobai didnt liked at first but kinda enjoyed in the end.

Heya! Here you go anon! I hope it is to your liking, I tried to be a little more creative with it! If it’s not, then I’m terribly sorry… but I hope you enjoy it! ^^

Mikado and Syobai pranking their classmates!

-It’s kinda sad that Mikado has to literally hire someone, just to have a prank partner

-He has to though, otherwise no one would do it with him

-The  wizard had to admit, the ultimate broker and second ultimate asshole on  the island wouldn’t have been his first choice, but he saw great potential within him and proposed the offer

-Syobai wanted no business with Mikado at first, but he got a pretty good offer from the guy, so he decided to play along for a while and help him with this little mission of his. The payment was decent enough

-He didn’t want to prank his classmates, not because he cared about them, but because that sounded like work and he had way too much to do anyways. But it was technically a job now and he couldn’t always pick his clients, so he would comply, as long as the payment was right

-Syobai is a sneaky sneak, so no one notices him when he prepares the pranks or places the magic Mikado gave him for some very special pranks

-He had to admit, he was curious how that would end

-Multiple people walked into their traps at the same time

-Yuri walked into a magic trap and got turned into an alien with blue skin, sharp teeth, hair like a galaxy and piercing green eyes, having to hide from the sun because it suddenly burnt his skin, Emma was trapped in a magic bubble that wouldn’t let her out and acted a little bit like a hamster ball and Nikei could only speak backwards

-Needless to say that they weren’t particularly happy about all of this, to the point where Nikei threatened to “pir ruoy stug tuo!”, so they better undo this real quickly

-Or… they could laugh, yeah that seemed way more reasobale right now

-So they did, loud and long, taking great pleasure in their suffering and Shinji having to literally dose Yuri in water so he doesn’t immediately evaporate like a small puddle in the summer

-Syobai had to admit, as reluctant as he was at first, it began to be awfully entertaining, to place the magic pranks and watch everyone scream or suffer in terror

-Yoruko’s fur coming to live and giving her a hard time, Yuki only able to speak in pig latin, Hajime’s common sense completely flying out the window and making him do rather reckless and stupid things,  Teruya hopping around like a bunny

-But there were also some good old fashioned pranks from Syobai himself

-Some pits for people to fall into (For some reason mainly Shinji and Yuki), bugs in the bed, stealing every lightbulb in the cottage, catching a feral animal and stuffing it in another persons pillow and let’s not forget the swimwear that dissolves when in water

-Everyone was at their wits ends, because Mikado will probably hurt them if they try to stop the fun he is currently having

-And Mikado was having a blast, he hasn’t smiled this much in never, even his human face had a small smile, and Syobai was grinning all the time he saw one of his pranks do their work and the magic pranks from Mikado were hilarious

-Maybe this island trip wouldn’t be so bad after all

[tunafishprincess]

The Roads We Take Chapter 2

art by @brothebro, writing by @tunafishprincess

First Chapter

She is twenty-six when they move into their new home.

Well, perhaps not home. Not yet.

The shingles are haphazardly thrown around the uncut grass in clumps, whilst the door barely hangs on its hinges. The inside is worse. Dust blankets the living room and kitchen. Even the closed off bedroom (only one bed, she notes), has dust bunnies scattered amongst the mess of clothes and blankets someone left behind.

And left behind they did. Whoever the original owners are, they left most of their valuables. Claire knows why, or at least, she thinks so. Most of the houses, especially this close to Arcadia, are abandoned. Another symbol of her past deeds.

But it would make due. It has to.

They have nowhere else to go.

She suspects Toby pulled several strings to get them such a place. Most humans these days live in a post-war era of poverty and disease, all brought upon by the witch queen herself. Morgana is dead, but her story will live on for centuries, if not millennia. Trolls and humans would not soon forget such a woman, nor will they forget the face she wore.

The first month of cleaning and tidying up the place are a godsend. Every day she awoke to the sound of Jim working on the roof and every night she knocked out, bone-tired from cleaning and fixing up the little cottage. When they finish up the major repairs, she starts her own little garden. Nothing like her father’s, but it is a start.

It is soothing in the beginning. No thoughts, just work. Her and Jim largely ignore each other outside of pleasantries and small talk. She is fine. Everything is fine.

Until it isn’t.

Toby and Darci visited when they could but for the most part it is only her and Jim here, no neighbors for a hundred miles around. She looks forward to them, desperately so, because what else did she have to look forward to these days?

The snippets of information help feed her imagination of the world around them. Her lack of internet made any outside news exciting, even the most dull kind. What she would give to have a newspaper or magazine subscription. But alas.

The Nuñez household came every few months, but even that wasn’t enough. Her family has their own lives, she knows, what, with Enrique’s schooling, her mother’s work—it hurts, but she understands. Even though it feels like it was just yesterday she was a teenager, outwardly she is an adult. Ten years is a long time. They have moved on, changed and grown without her presence.

Enrique sends her letters at least.

Jim is…She isn’t sure what their relationship is these days. One moment they are on the couch together and the next he’s somewhere else, leaving her for hours, sometimes days at a time.

The tension could only go on for so long. Claire is bored. Reading is nice, but it doesn’t fill the void within her.

The days turn to weeks turn to months and she is starving for something, anything.

An itch she cannot scratch, no matter how much work she does around the house or in the garden. It is as though there is a hole inside her chest, expanding with every breath.

Emptiness. Morgana hollowed her out, leaving her scrambling for purchase in this strange new world of familiar and not. No one could ever understand. Not really. She watched every atrocity the sorceress committed, like a figure behind a thick wall of glass. No matter how hard she screamed, no one could hear her.

Ten years is a lot to comb through. She knows she’s screwed up, mentally, emotionally, physically—take your pick. Morgana twisted her soul, shifted her body to accommodate the creature she originally was.

The creature Claire now is.

Humans didn’t levitate in their sleep.

Humans didn’t break glass without touching it.

The magic ebbs and flows, changing at the slightest change in her mood. No wonder Toby put her here. Society is better without her causing anymore havoc than she already does.

Still, the tightness within her builds.

She misses human contact—any contact. Stranded in the woods without much entertainment begins to suffocate her. Unlike the hospital she has nothing to distract her from her thoughts. Jim tries to help, but he isn’t much better. The sweet boy she remembers is a man now, strange and alluring; yet no matter what she does, he is always out of her reach.

It all comes to ahead one night, when Jim comes home much later than normal. She waits at the door for him to return, a bundle of emotions ready to erupt.

And how could they not? Look at me, she thinks. What a dutiful little wife she has become. Her sixteen-year-old self would be horrified at what she is now. No job, no education past tenth grade, no social life—it is a heavy blow to her self-esteem. All her dreams are dashed now, all because she didn’t seek help.

Dios mio, if only she sought out her friends before this entire mess. Even now she can recall the confusion, of how she kept forgetting things, of the endless cold that ate at her being. The cracks that wouldn’t go away. So many signs. And she was too stubborn to see them.

The door creaked open. Jim’s head lowered beneath the frame, horns lightly scrapping the top.

Her breath hitches. It is not so much the size that surprises her, but the power behind it. The thin beanpole boy that barely topped five and a half feet now towers over her, his entire body corded muscle, with impossibly large shoulders that tapered into a trim waist. No, trim didn’t cut it. Even with his shirt on she could see the outline of his abs and chest.

Could probably bounce a quarter of it, she reflects, cheeks growing rosy at the thought.

No. Almost immediately she reins herself in. Her fists clench. She is supposed to be angry. Jim is late. No, more than late, he was missing.

She knows he can sense her in the darkness, if not outright see her. The red of his eyes glow ominously. The scent of pennies is heavy in the room. As he heads for the kitchen, Claire moves in front of him.

“Jim, wait.” She adds, “Please.”

He turns his head slightly, ears lowering. “Can this wait till morning, Claire?”

Absolutely not. By then he would have an excuse and they would be back where they started, skirting around each other like always. Claire pressed on, “Where were you?”

“Work.”

Claire’s lips tug downward. Work. She hates his work. She may be trapped here but he is trapped out there, forced to do the very things Morgana used to impose upon him. He is the government’s dog, all because of her.

“You could have told me,” she says, voice level. They were a team, right?

“There wasn’t enough time.”

“There’s never enough time, is there?” She sighs, leaning against the wall. She rubs her temples, trying to starve off the headache forming. It is one of the symptoms of her magic. As if she needs even more things wrong with her.

His shoulders raise. “What?”

She throws up her hands. “Every time. You disappear without ever telling me anything. I have to get the information from Toby, and even he’s tight lipped about it because of some stupid “security clearance”. Can’t you at least have the courtesy to leave me a message? Even a text would do.”

With every word that passed her lips the frustration builds. They are supposed to be together but if anything they are further apart than ever before.

“Claire—” He whispers.

Magic crackles around her; the furniture around her shakes.

She knows she’s overreacting. Nevertheless, she cannot stop the frustration growing within her. These last few months have left her in a constant state of unease. It is now or never.

“No, I’m not finished,” she snaps. “You can’t keep doing this.”

His eyes flicker away from her steady gaze. He looks extraordinarily uncomfortable, like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. “Doing what?”

She groans, rubbing her forehead. Is he serious right now? “Vanishing without a trace. What if something happened here? How would I ever get a hold of you? What if something happened to you?”

“The government has security detail on the grounds,” he answers, scratching the scruff at the base of his neck. “Besides, if something did happen to me, you would be cared for.”

“Cared for?” She bites out. What is she, some sort of puppy? “Are you for real?”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Everything!” She yells, louder than she wants to, but the bubble within her has burst. Her hands grow hot in response.

Instantly, a picture frame dislodges from the wall. Claire startles then turns her head at the sound. It is a move that costs her.

When she turns back, the door is open.

Her boyfriend is gone once more.

“Mother—” She bites down the rest of the curse.

Cold grips her chest, spreading out to her extremities. Her teeth chatter. The glass windows sing, alerting her of how bad it has gotten.

Damn it. Every time. Every time she accidentally uses her powers he disappears.

Finally, the window behind her shattered. Shuddering, she begins to do the breathing exercises Darci taught her. Count to ten: one, two, three, four, five…

It takes her longer than she would like to admit.

Still, she does it. The emotions are balled up tightly inside, the freezing chill in her blood warming into an uneasy coolness.

Part of her knows this is her fault. She is to blame for Jim’s reaction.

But another part of her disagrees. Didn’t he say he would stay with her always?

What she wouldn’t give for a break from all of this. This stupid reality where she hurt everyone and everything. Is this how it is going to be for the rest of her life?

Is this her destiny?

God. She hopes not. That is almost as bad as the ten years with Morgana. Having no one to talk to and the only one that does fears her using magic.

Tired hands make quick work of the mess. It gets her mind off the inevitable, though not for long.

An hour later, he returns. This time, Claire doesn’t give him the luxury of an excuse. She bores into him, finger pressing into his broad chest. Her other hand tugs on the braid she made for him this morning. It is almost comical, her, small and fragile and him, large and indestructible.

“You’re a coward,” she remarks coldly. “You can’t talk about it so you just ignore the problem.”

“Claire,” he says, still not looking at her. “Stop.”

“No, I’m not going to stop. You can’t keep pushing me away.” She drags him over across the room, his mane a makeshift leash. He complies, albeit reluctantly.

It is childish, yes, but nothing else appears to get to him.

“I’m not pushing you away,” he reaches out, tucking a stray bang behind her ear. Part of her softens, before remembering the prior conversation. She swats the hand away. “I’m keeping you safe.”

“Bullshit. Keeping me safe? You’re running away,” she accuses. To add salt to the wound, she adds, “No wonder Morgana won.”

Her eyes widen.

It is the wrong insult.

She regrets the words the moment they leave her mouth.

The man wearing Jim’s face steels. Claire drops the braid. The golden pupils, normally rounded, slits, more animal than human.

His hunched back straightens. The muscles in his shoulders stretch against the confines of his shirt.

The Morgana issue is always a sore one between them (and probably will be for a long time). A rush of shame brushes against her heart. Nevertheless, she faces him head on.

She knows she should be afraid. This is someone who fought for her, killed for her, held her—warmth pools between her legs. It is involuntary.

Now, Claire theoretically remembers how and what they did together, but the actual is far different than what she saw through Morgana’s eyes. Her eyes fall to his chest, which appears to be expanding as he stretches out to his full size.

Holy moly he’s big, she realizes.

“What did you say?” He asks, edging her closer to the wall.

Bravery (or foolhardiness, it is hard to tell) grips her. She crosses her arms. “You heard me.”

He leans closer. “You don’t know anything.”

Claire can’t help her cheeks from burning. Did he seriously just say that? Anger flares up once more. She gestures her forefinger at his face. “I was there. I know about everything, Jim. Morgana was me, remember? I remember how she tricked you into drinking that potion. I remember the bathing room. I remember the time you tried to kill her—”

Her words get caught in her throat. Jim growls, his mouth close to her neck. She can feel his breath against her chest, hot and heavy.

“Then you remember how dangerous I am too,” he whispers, voice rumbling. “I am a monster, Claire. You don’t want to be around me…Not when I’m like this.”

She reaches out. “No, you’re not.”

Bad move. Her back smacked against the wall. She gasps. His arms lock her in, strong and unyielding, while his leg runs up against her—

Her chest tightens.

That isn’t his leg.

The heat within her builds. She is terrified and sad and angry and aroused and every other possible emotion. The scent of magic grows thick in the air. Her magic. Jim’s ears twitch in response. The faded marks on his face don’t glow, not like before, but the etchings appear deeper, darker, as if in response to Jim’s mood.

“I could break you. Here and now. Do you understand that?” He asks in a deep voice.

Her breath catches as his hand snaked around, grasping her from behind and lifting her up. His entire palm encompasses her backside.

He draws close, inches from her face. His pupils grow large, nostrils flaring. A soft rumble erupts from his throat. “This isn’t a game. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

She licks her lips. This is a dangerous situation.

But this is the most alive she’s felt in months too.

Finally, she resolves to end it.

“You’re not.” She grasps his shirt. “I need you, Jim. Please.”

The vibration in his chest grows louder. He lowers her to the floor once more (she almost feels a tad disappointed by that).

She can read the swirl of emotions on his face, from the lowering of his ears to his hitched shoulders. A soft smile emerges on her lips; he’s embarrassed.

Despite the changes, Jim is still there. Just as broken as she is.

And that’s what it comes down to, isn’t it? Two broken people, looking for the other to make them whole.

“You could do better,” he says.

Seizing the moment, she presses a kiss on his forehead. The tension in his shoulders ease. “You’re not the only monster around here, Jim,” she admits.

She makes a move for his lips but he stops her. There’s a softness in his gaze, but there is hesitancy too.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I’m not ready.”

“Alright,” she concedes. It hurts, but she understands.

He brings her closer. She wraps her arms around his neck. He is warm and firm and smells of the outside world.

“This is all so new. I’m afraid it’s a dream,” he confesses, voice breaking. “I’m so scared of losing you. You’re everything to me.”

Claire chokes down a sob. Her lip trembles. The angry, frustrated part of her begins to wash away.

“I can relate.” Even she wonders at times whether all this is something she made up, brought upon by the insanity of being with Morgana for so long.

“I missed you. I missed us. I just didn’t want to screw it up like I did with everything else. I want what we had before. It was perfect and real and—”

She presses a finger to his lips. He gives her a familiar lopsided smile.

“We were never perfect, Jim,” she answers truthfully. “We both had our flaws.”

Her arrogance and his self-sacrifice. She lets out a soft giggle. What a pair they are.

“I missed this,” he says.

“Me too.” She pauses, pulling a stray strand of hair back behind her ear. “Can we cuddle? Like we used to—Wah! Dios mio, qué haces? Jim, oh my gosh! Stop, you doofus! Put me down!”

The princess carry is unexpected, to say the least. He spins around, making Claire break out into a fit of laughter. It is the most fun she’s had in months.

“You wanted to cuddle,” he replies cheerfully.

She rolls her eyes, cheeks reddening. “You’re impossible.”

They settle into the couch. It creaks under them, largely because it wasn’t meant for someone of Jim’s size, she suspects. Slowly, she crawls onto his lap. Her hands caress his hair, over and over, hypnotic in its rhythm. The tension in his shoulder ease, melting away. She leans forward; he shifts to accommodate her. She digs her face into his shoulder, taking in his scent, a warm encompassing presence.

“We can’t keep doing this whole ignoring the problem thing anymore. We need to talk. Real talk. About everything,” she says. “I know it’s scary, but I’m going insane over here. You’re the only one around I can really talk to.”

“You’re right,” he mumbles into her hair. His head tilts back, eyes closing. “I guess I’ll start then.”

“Are you sure?” She says.

He nods, pulling her closer. “Sure? Heck no. But you’re right about the talking.”

It’s not much. The conversation only lasts half an hour before Claire nods off.

But it’s a start.

[pixieungerstories]

Darkness - 8

Brie groaned before getting up and having a shower.  Then she put on her most comfortable part of sweat pants and her official shark week t-shirt.  She stripped the bed and put everything in the laundry machine in the kitchen, then wrapped up in a blanket and flopped down on the couch.  After a while, she got up and found some pain meds, then went back to the couch.  A while later, she got up and emailed Mr Lynn.

“With apologies, I will not be working on the yard today.  I am taking a sick day.  If you want to give Mr Herne the message, he will be able to wander as he likes without me there to stop him.”

Only a few minutes later the reply came, “Thank you for letting me know.  Feel better soon.”

Brie sighed and shut her laptop.  She found a hot water bottle and cuddled it on the couch as it started to rain.

Some indeterminate time later, she woke to a knock on her door.  She lay there, planning on ignoring it, when it came again, louder this time with the sort of insistence that suggested the person knocking wasn’t going away until she answered.  She stumbled angrily to her feet and stomped over to the door and wrenched it open.  Only to come face to navel with her nightmare demon.  She took a step back but a hand reached through the door and pulled her out.

“This isn’t real!” she gasped.  It took him two hands but he lifted her to his face and considered her.  The rain fell all around, but not on him.  Her breath caught in her throat as she struggled to make sense of this.  After a moment, he raised her further and sniffed at her crotch.  Brie moaned in embarrassment and tried even harder to squirm away.

“If you aren’t careful, I’m going to drop you.”

She froze.  “If you drop me, I’ll wake up.”

He just snorted and set her carefully on the ground.  “What do you need?”

“What?” Brie had no frame of reference for what he was saying.

“What do you need?  Bandages?  Food?  Sex?  What will make you feel better?”

“This - you! - It just… feels different than it usually does.”

“Usually, I visit your dreams, but I could not just leave you here if you were hurting and you haven’t gone back to sleep.”

Brie stared up at him in disbelief, “This… this is real?”

“As much as anything is.  What do you need?”

She hesitated, “There are a lot of stories about not accepting gifts from demons or fairies or-”

He burst out laughing.  “If I wanted to steal you, I would.  I wouldn’t try to buy you with gifts.”

“Is that what you are doing?”

He crouched low so that his body was huddled over and around hers.  “I want to seduce you.  People I can buy aren’t worth the price.”  He tilted his head and sniffed, “Now, what do you need to feel better so that I can get on with that?”

“I … I don’t know.  I have to just wait it out.”  Thunder cracked somewhere nearby.  Brie jumped then shivered.  “I should go inside.”

“Come with me.”  And with that, he scooped her up and cradled her in his arms as he strode toward the house.

“Is this real?” Brie asked again.  “Are you the one who-” she stopped, not sure how to phrase the next bit.  “Did you … hurt the man who…” she trailed off.

“Do you really want to know if I’m the one who stopped your would be rapist?  I am not a knight in shining armour.  If I saved you, it was only saving you for later.”

Brie found herself trembling.  It was only partly from the cold. “Where are you taking me?”

“I have a warm fire in the house and many goblins who can go get whatever you need.” Brie stiffened in his arms.  Darkness looked down at her.  “What?”

“This can’t be real!  It just can’t!”

“If it cannot be real, then clearly it is not.”

“Herne the hunter… I remember reading that.”

Now he froze.  “What do you remember reading of that?”

Brie shook her head.  “It was a long time ago.  Something about the wild hunt.”

Darkness chuckled and kept walking.  “That wasn’t true.”  As they crossed in front of the house he nodded at The Tree, “I am the guardian of The Great Tree.”

“The people in the village told me a story about a cult summoning a demon and trapping it in the house.”

“I predate the house.”  He thought some more.  “I predate the idea of demons.”

Brie considered this,  she didn’t believe in monsters, other than the human ones.  But this felt real. She could hear and smell the rain. She could feel the cold air on her face and the demon’s warm skin against hers.  He set her down before the big front double door, it was clear he would have to duck to get through them.

“After you.”

Brie shook her head, “I don’t want to go in there.  It’s dusty and dirty and made my head hurt.”

He turned to look at her, “The illusion hiding the gobins made your head hurt.  I can’t enter your cottage. Not corporeally, at any rate.”

Brie took a step back, “Telling me the house is full of goblins isn’t exactly a selling feature.”

Darkness chuckled, “I will protect you.”

Brie looked up at him and wrinkled her nose, “How will you protect me from the dust bunnies?”  The startled look on his face suggested he wasn’t expecting that as a question. “It is pretty run down in there.  Are you sure there isn’t any black mould or anything?” She was surprised when he actually stopped to think about that.

“There isn’t in my rooms.”

Brie shifted awkwardly.  Darkness carefully took her hand.  Holding it lightly so it would be easy for her to pull away, he led her into the house.  As soon as they were through the door, he scooped her up again. 

Brie protested, “I can walk.”

Darkness ignored that, “I didn’t plan this very well.  I did not let you bring shoes.  I hadn’t noticed the dirt on the floor before.”

Brie swallowed, “Is that really that you didn’t plan this very well or is it just that you were planning it so that I couldn’t run away?”

Darkness didn’t even pause at that one.  “I gave you my name. I can not hurt you or lie to you.”

“How about misleading me?  Isn’t that what demons are famous for?”

“There are things about me that you will not like.  I will not lie to you about them, if you ask me. But I am not going to volunteer that information either.”

“Tell me one,” Brie insisted

They had reached the giant fireplace in the centre of the house.  Darkness lay her on the rug in front of it, kneeling before her as he did so.  Brie immediately struggled away from him and stood up. Even down on one knee he was taller than she, but it wasn’t quite as bad this way.

“Before the romans came to this land, the people who lived here would tie animals and sometimes people to the tree as offerings to me.”

Brie gaped, then snorted, “There is no way that tree is old enough to predate roman contact.”

Darkness tilted his head and looked at her, “Why ask if you won’t believe me?  Why do you think your sitting beneath it makes Goblynn so uncomfortable?  He is afraid I will come for you.”

“And now you have.” Brie’s voice was deathly quiet.

 Darkness was very still at that.  Watching her as a cat might watch a mouse it had caught to see what it tried next, he tilted his head to the fireplace.  “Are you not warmer here?”

Brie didn’t say anything.

He stood up, she backed further away.  He turned and headed toward the door.  “Make yourself comfortable.  I will find you some blankets.”  He hesitated at the door, then added, “some clean blankets.”

Once he was gone, Brie looked around the room.  The things in it were an odd mish-mash of old, very old, and new.  There was a huge antique table with ornate delicate carvings on the apron and legs, it looked newer than the house but not by much.  Most of the chairs were human sized and matched the table but the one on each end were huge and gothic looking, the oak blackened with age.  The fireplace looked absolutely primitive, as if it were older than the house, which made no sense.  It looked big enough to roast an entire cow, with those weird side benches from way back when people thought that sitting in the fireplace was a good idea.

Brie peered at the fire and frowned when she realized it was just fire.  There was no wood, no sign of a gas line.  It was as if the stones of the hearth themselves were burning. 

She accidentally made eye contact with one of the five foot tall cast iron dragon andirons.  It nodded amicably at her.  She jumped back.  It’s mate hissed at it.  They both went still, but remained focused on her.

Brie started trying to think of what had happened and where it was that she could have been drugged again.  Was this some sort of LSD flashback from whatever the hell she had been given that night in the bar?

She looked out the lead glass window.  She could see the path all the way to where the screen of trees blocked the view of her cottage.  She knew there was a cobblestone path that led through them to the big gates that allowed access between her cottage and the main part of the property.

The door opened and Darkness came in carrying a huge iron kettle in one hand and a delicate teacup and saucer in the other.  He looked ridiculous.  He looked dangerous, the tiny cup in his hand emphasizing exactly how big he was.

“Why the cape?”  It was out before she could stop it.  Brie immediately slammed her hands over her mouth as if she would try to stuff the words back in.

Darkness merely laughed.  He set down the cup and kettle and pulled the cloak around him.  It covered him shoulders to hooves, but didn’t do anything to disguise the horns.  “You may not always want to see all of me, lady.”

Brie looked away.  At the fire.  The andiron stuck out his long forked tongue and waggled it suggestively at her.

Brie blinked.  Darkness snarled.  The andiron stopped.

Brie closed her eyes.  She didn’t know how to look at him.  Straight ahead put her gaze pretty much at groin height.  Up at his face was like staring at the ceiling.  She heard the rattle of the tea cup on the saucer and looked over to see Darkness pouring water into the cup.  “Is this one of those things where if I eat or drink anything I have to stay?  Or you have some sort of claim over me?”

“No,” he said simply.  After a moment he said, “It’s peppermint and pineapple weed.  It should make you feel better.”

Brie walked hesitantly towards the teacup.  Darkness reached for her.  She froze. He let his arm fall to his side. 

Peeking into the teacup, it did indeed look like mint leaves and pineapple weed flowers.  Still, “Have you poisoned this? Or put anything in it that will …  anything else in it?”

“It is just water, mint leaves and pineapple weed flowers.”  He seemed amused by the question.

She carefully picked up the tea cup and gave it a sniff.  It smelled quite good, actually. She set down the cup and said.  “Take off your cloak, please.”  It fluttered to the ground a moment later.  Then she looked up at his face.  He was still watching her carefully, but seemed extra tense.  She kept her eyes on his face for a moment as she stepped to the side of him.  He turned to face her.  “I want to see your back,” she explained.

Darkness went very still, but raised his head so that he was looking straight in front of him.  His gaze passing over Brie’s head. She walked around him, eying up his body like a buyer assessing a prize bull for purchase.  He closed his eyes and said nothing as she stepped into his blind spot.

Brie was surprised that he has a tail, then wondered why she was surprised.  It was shaped like a cat’s tail, but without fur.  It swished idly and when the tip brushed her leg, barbs flared out.  They looked like the fins on a betta fish, colourful, red and soft looking.  Her fingers twitched wanting to touch them, but that seemed like a bad idea.  Suddenly, she realized she was staring at his ass and jerked her eye line up to his back.  It was covered in scars.  Stripes that looked like he had been whipped, a burn mark over one hip, and two deep gouges, one on each side of his spine.  From his hip bones up, he was hairless, from his hip bones down, his legs were the classic animal legs ending in hooves.  His fingernails were black and sharp looking.

As she came back around to his front she said, “I want to go home now.”

He tensed, a muscle in his neck jumping.  “You haven’t even tasted your tea.”

Brie shook her head, “I’m not sick, you don’t need to take care of me.”

“Don’t lie to me.  I can smell your pain.”  It was said softly, a simple statement of fact.

Brie blushed and looked down.  “If you can smell my pain, then you can certainly tell what is wrong.  I don’t have … supplies here.”

“I want to help.”

She shook her head and turned to the door.  As she grabbed the handle, a giant hand slammed into the door above her head, pushing it resolutely closed.

“You can leave if you insist, but I want you to consider that allowing me this gift would earn you my gratitude.”

He was so close, Brie could feel the heat radiating off of his body.  Her breath caught in her throat.  She pressed her forehead to the door. “You take me from my home and expect me to be ok with that?”

There was a long moment of silence.  Then he removed his hand. “It would be mutually beneficial.  I had hoped you would be able to understand that.”

The heat pooling between her legs wasn’t just her cramps.  He really did have the sexiest voice she had ever encountered.  And the thing was, she was just… scared.

“You frighten me,” she whispered.

“Come. Sit.  Drink your tea.  Let us see if we can get past that.”

[high-queen-margo]

Just to Bring You Home

Summary: After Margo is attacked in Fillory, Fen convinces her to hire a personal bodyguard. She chooses someone from a world she's been trying to forget. Prompt fill for @mintealesbian on @themagiciansprompts Pairing: Margo/Kady Length: 5,183 

Read on AO3

Kady ambled through the halls of Castle Whitespire, popping her head into each room she passed. It seemed awfully empty for an active royal castle, but she’d come as soon as she got the bunny’s message—well, as soon as Julia had relayed it to her after the hungover dead sleep she’d been in.

“Hey,” she called to a man walking the opposite direction down the hall, “do you know where Margo is? She’s not in the throne room. She asked me to come.”

“Oh dear,” the man said. “You haven’t heard? She was attacked early this morning. I’ll escort you to her bedroom.”

“Attacked?” Kady’s heart lurched. There’d been no mention of any danger in the bunny’s message. Maybe she should have taken it more urgently. “Is she okay?”

“Yes,” the man said. “The assassination attempt was unsuccessful and the attacker has been detained. The High King is simply recovering.” He stopped at a large, elaborate set of doors with two guards stationed outside. “Here you are, ma’am.”

“Thanks,” Kady said. She pushed the door open to find Margo asleep in bed, the rest of the room empty. Somehow, she hadn’t expected to see this. She’d expected to find Margo bitching about the situation, setting up measures to fortify the castle, figuring out a plan of action while she was undoubtedly unable to perform some of her duties, not…sleeping and vulnerable. Kady didn’t think she’d ever actually seen Margo asleep before.

She didn’t know what to do. Margo had called for her, so maybe she should wake her up, but it had taken her a while to get there. Margo probably needed what rest she could get, anyway.

She sat down on a chair left beside the bed to wait. Margo really did look more peaceful as she slept; her eyebrows had softened, her muscles relaxed, her eyes flitting gently beneath their lids. She could see now why Eliot called her Bambi.

Margo started when she finally opened her eyes and noticed Kady so close to her bed. “Jesus,” she said, “if I’d have known you wanted to give me a heart attack I wouldn’t have asked you to come.”

“Sorry,” Kady said, “I didn’t want to wake you up. Why didn’t you tell me you were hurt?”

Margo pulled herself up to sit against her pillows. “You can only send so many words with messenger bunnies,” she said. “It’s not like I’m dying. I just have a favor to ask.”

“Okay?”

“Fen is insisting I need a personal guard.” Margo paused. “I know battle magic is your thing, and magic is kind of unreliable right now, but I’ve seen you fight hand-to-hand. You’re strong, you’re skilled, and I know you well enough to trust you won’t try to murder me. I know it’s a big ask, but—”

“I’ll do it,” Kady said.

Margo narrowed her eyes. “That was way too easy. What’s the catch?”

“No catch,” Kady said. “I need to get away from Earth for a while, and here I can do something I’m good at.”

“Perfect,” Margo said. “I’d say you can wait until I’m back on my feet, but Fen’s overbearing ass wants someone with me 24/7 starting yesterday. It’s gonna be pretty boring for a little while, so sorry about that.”

“I don’t really care,” Kady said. “So, what exactly happened today? How did someone manage to pull one over on you?”

“About that,” Margo said. “I won the election in a landslide, but I failed to consider the fact that most of the people who voted against me were…well, humans, who can throw knives with their hands. Sneaky bastard took me by surprise on my way to a summit and caught me twice before I could block it.”

Kady hesitated, then said, “Can I see?” She almost regretted asking—it was a strange request and she had no real reason to want to see the wound—but she was curious.

Margo gave her an odd look, but gingerly pulled her loose nightshirt up to reveal the sutured gashes along her abdomen. Kady impulsively reached out to run her fingers along the unmarked skin beside one of the wounds as she leaned closer to get a better look.

“Damn,” she said, “these look bad.”

“You should have seen them when they were hemorrhaging,” Margo said, tugging her shirt back down. “Totally ruined my dress.”

“This isn’t funny,” Kady said. “I’ve seen people die from wounds like this.”

“Relax,” Margo said, “they took care of all the bleeding before magic ran out. Why is this freaking you out so bad?”

Kady shook her head. Why did it freak her out to think that Margo could have died? It was all hypothetical; she was here, healing, and the threat was gone, and by all accounts she had nothing to worry about even if they were close, and they weren’t. They never had been, and Kady was always just fine with that.

“I don’t know,” she said eventually. “I’m just glad you’re okay, I guess.”

Margo hummed. “Thanks, I guess. Now, it’s late, and I don’t normally share a bed with people I’m not sleeping with, but it’s big enough for both of us if you want to get some rest.”

“Is that a good idea?” Kady said, gesturing toward Margo’s wounds. She wasn’t sure she even needed sleep, but it was as good a way to pass time as any. If she’d be working as a bodyguard, she should probably get on a normal sleep schedule anyway.

Margo shrugged. “I’ve seen you passed out in the Cottage lounge enough to know you sleep like a rock. It’ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Kady said. “If you’re sure.”

“I truly couldn’t give less of a shit,” Margo said, but Kady thought she saw a small smile when she stood up to get in on the other side of the bed.

***

Kady woke up before Margo, and the first thing she noticed was the light thrumming in the air she’d become accustomed to detecting since magic came into short supply. She slipped out of the room, asked the guards to tell Margo where she went if she woke up, and began searching the halls for someone she knew. She’d really have to learn the layout of the castle soon if she wanted to stay there.

Fen was in the great hall talking to someone Kady didn’t recognize, and when she saw Kady come in, she waved them away.

“Kady, right?” Fen said. “Margo asked you to guard her?”

“Yeah,” Kady said. “And I am. I just thought I’d let you know some of the magic is back, so your healers can finish working on her when she wakes up.”

“Oh, good,” Fen said. “Thank you for telling me. I’ll send them in shortly.”

“No problem,” Kady said. “And, Fen? Thank you for looking out for her. I’ve lost people I cared about before and I don’t want to lose another.”

“I didn’t know you were so close,” Fen said. “She needs someone like that after Eliot. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I’m kind of afraid…”

“What?”

“Margo is smart,” Fen said. “She’s resourceful, and she knows how to defend herself. It just…crossed my mind yesterday that she may have been so unconcerned about getting hurt because she doesn’t care anymore.”

“Because Eliot is gone.” Kady sighed. “Yeah, I know the feeling.”

“Please just make sure she’s safe,” Fen said. “I care about her, but…there’s not a lot I can do to protect her.”

“I will,” Kady said. “I promise.”

***

“Are you sure you’re ready to try another summit?”

Kady snuck a glance in the mirror as Margo changed into one of her elaborate dresses. The scars on her stomach looked years old after the magical healing, though it had only been a month since the attack.

“I’ve been stuck within the castle grounds for way too long and if I have to stay here another minute without getting some goddamn change of scenery I’m going to lose my fucking mind.”

Kady raised her hands in mock surrender. “It was just a question,” she said. “I’m not stopping you.”

“Not to mention,” Margo continued, gathering a sack of scrolls she’d been studying through the week, “if the Lorians and Fairies don’t settle this little dick-measuring contest of theirs, we’ll be trapped in the middle, and that’s gonna be a huge load of shit I’ll need to clean up myself.”

“Yeah, that would suck,” Kady said.

“Can you go make sure the horses are ready?” Margo said. “The regular ones. We don’t ride the ones who can talk—not on business, anyway.”

“Riding?” Kady said. “As in, out in the open, where you got attacked last time?”

“You’re my bodyguard, not my mother,” Margo said. “Do your job and it should be fine, right?”

Kady sighed. “Fine,” she said. “Then we’re taking a different route than you did before.”

“Whatever. There are a billion of them,” Margo said. She drew one of the scrolls out of the sack and handed it to Kady. “Here’s a map. Take your pick.”

Kady unrolled the map and studied it while Margo fastened a plain black cloak over her dress. It was hard to tell which paths would be best, but she settled on one arcing in the opposite direction from the main road.

Margo’s horse, which Kady didn’t even know she had, was a dapple gray Andalusian mare with an impossibly long mane and tail. She swung up into the saddle with surprisingly practiced ease, and it struck Kady how comfortable Margo was in this world. It was no longer the fantasy world of a children’s book; it was Margo’s world, literally, and it was no wonder she came back here after her best friend died. Kady wondered how long she would have to live here before she considered it home, too.

Kady mounted the black gelding the stable hand had picked out for her and they set off at a brisk trot through the Fillorian backwoods.

“I didn’t know you even knew how to ride,” Kady said.

“I learned after I got here,” Margo said. “The castle staff said a proper queen should know how, so they taught me. It’s faster than a carriage, anyway.” She paused. “When did you learn? You don’t seem the type.”

Kady snorted. “I’m not,” she said. “I had rich kid friends upstate in middle school and they forced me into it every time I came over.”

“Sounds tragic,” Margo said. “That’s not sarcasm, by the way. Little rich kids are the worst. I would know; I was one of them.”

“Somehow I’m not surprised.”

Kady didn’t miss the little smirk Margo gave at the comment before changing the subject.

“I like the route you picked,” Margo said. “We’ll be crossing this bridge over a section of the Burnt River. It’s got a great view; there’s nothing like it on Earth.”

“The Burnt River?” Kady said. “It doesn’t sound that great.”

“It’s a misnomer,” Margo said. “Like Iceland. It sounds ugly, but, well…you’ll see.”

Kady could hear the river long before she could see it. She thought by the volume of the rushing water it had to be right around the corner, but the sound grew louder until she could barely hear Margo’s voice, and only then did the bridge come into view.

While the river itself stretched far below the arched wooden bridge, swathes of land on the opposite cliff hung over the side, coated in vibrant green-orange mosses, water pouring down them in an unbroken glass sheet for as far as Kady could see in either direction. The bridge disappeared into a tunnel carved through the cliff face, where dim light shone from its distant exit.

Margo rode ahead of her onto the bridge and turned around. “See?” she called. “What did I tell you?”

“I mean, I don’t usually care much about the outdoors, but…yeah, this is really something.” Kady’s eyes fell from the waterfall to Margo, whose hair was beginning to collect crystalline drops of water from the spray.

“It’s too bad we can’t stop and take in all the natural beauty or whatever,” Margo said, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. “There’s always shit to do.” She waited a moment, then said, “Well, are you coming or not?”

Kady blinked and tamped down the uncomfortable fullness in her chest as she kicked her horse back into motion. She followed Margo under the waterfall and through the tunnel until they emerged into the open grasslands on the other side.

“Just about another hour before we get there,” Margo said. “By the way, I have no idea how long this meeting will last, so we might have to stay overnight at the encampment. They’ll have food and tents, so we won’t have to deal with hunting ourselves, but it’s not very comfortable. Just a heads up.”

“Will it be safe if other people are staying there?”

“I don’t see why not,” Margo said. “We’re allies. They don’t have any reason to come after me, and they’d never get away with it if they tried.” They rode in silence for a few moments, then she continued, “You know I don’t have angry mobs clamoring to kill me all the time, right? It never happened before last month. I doubt it’ll happen again anytime soon.”

Kady sighed and picked at a bit of flaking leather from her saddle horn. “Look,” she said, “I don’t know much about this place. I don’t even know you as well as I’d like to. I just know you almost died and when I found out, I felt…I don’t know.” She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “I was scared.”

Margo halted her horse in front of Kady. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” Kady said. “What happened to being in a hurry?”

“Don’t avoid the question. Why were you scared? You’re supposed to be the fearless one.” Margo sat tall in her saddle, staring Kady down with an expression she couldn’t read. She clearly wouldn’t be moving until Kady gave in.

“You’re kidding.” Fearless—sure, it was a mask she tried to wear as often as possible, but she was far from it. She’d been living in fear for as long as she could remember. “You know what?” she said. “I do know. I thought of never seeing you again, and that scared me. I know we barely said a word to each other before I came here, but the moment I found out what happened, I just…couldn’t stand it. Our fucked up little group has been through so much together and I care about you, okay? Maybe more than I thought I did.”

Margo didn’t move; Kady could tell she hadn’t been anticipating that kind of response. Kady herself trembled slightly, gripping the reins in her hands tightly enough that her horse shifted nervously beneath her.

“Kady—”

“We should get going,” Kady said, her voice steeled and distant. She turned her horse back onto the path and kicked him into a canter before Margo could get another word out.

***

The voices of the summit leaders carried through the canvas tent walls, where Kady sat shielded from the glare of the setting sun, whittling a tree branch down to a point. She should have brought something to do; she didn’t have a watch, but the meeting must have been going for hours already. It was hard to hold out hope that they’d make it back to the castle tonight when there was so little daylight left—not that Kady was mentally prepared for the three-hour ride back. Neither of them had spoken much the remainder of the trip there, and she didn’t know how to dissipate the awkwardness.

Kady threw the branch onto a pile of other makeshift spears and ducked out of the tent. The leaders sat around a small table as they talked about delegation and resources, their people milling about the encampment doing God-knows-what. Kady strode toward the table and grabbed a random bottle off of it before returning to the tent.

“Excuse me—”

“Chill,” Margo’s quiet voice said. “It’s fine.”

Kady took a swig from the bottle and grimaced; she wasn’t sure, but she thought it was supposed to be some kind of whiskey, though the flavor was awful. Apparently, Fillorians just didn’t care enough about alcohol to make it taste good, but it would do the trick.

By the time the meeting concluded, night had fallen and the encampment was lit only by oil lamps and candles. Kady’s tent was dark; she lay in her bedroll, unable to fall asleep but unwilling to join the friendly gathering outside after a successful summit. Her head spun from the shitty alcohol, and she didn’t realize anyone had come into the tent until she felt a hand on her shoulder.

“Kady?” Margo said. “Are you awake?”

Kady almost responded, but she stayed still on her side, her eyes closed. She didn’t want to deal with conversation at the moment; whatever it was Margo wanted, it could wait until morning if it wasn’t urgent.

“Okay,” Margo murmured, “good. I’m sorry I forced you to talk earlier. The truth is, I don’t know how to deal with people caring about me. I thought…I thought Eliot was the only one, maybe Fen, but it’s easy to assume she only cares because I’m the king or because I was Eliot’s friend.” She sighed. “I know it’s kind of fucked up I can only admit this now, but maybe if I do it’ll be easier to say it to your face later. So thank you. For caring about me. And I care about you too.”

Margo squeezed her shoulder once, and then she was gone.

***

Kady didn’t bring up what she’d heard the previous night. She saddled her horse silently, searching her admittedly small repertoire of conversation starters for something she could use to pretend yesterday never happened. She had to scrape the bottom of the barrel as she followed Margo out of the encampment.

“So the summit went well, right?” Kady said.

Margo glanced at her out of the corner of her eye before staring ahead at the path. “If you can call six hours of negotiations that ultimately ended up with an agreement for the exact terms we had before ‘well,’ then yeah,” she said. “It’s fine, though; at least tensions are down. Shouldn’t be any problems between the other nations for a while.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Margo said. “So, um…that was fairy whiskey you took last night. How are you feeling?”

“Not great,” Kady said. “The fuck did they put in it?”

“They’ve got different grains in their world. Fucked me up the first time I tried it too, not that it tastes remotely okay to humans anyway.”

“Yeah,” Kady said, “I, uh…probably should have stopped sooner than I did, but. Old habits.”

“For future reference, I can’t defend you every time you take something out from under a fairy’s nose,” Margo said. “Everyone here has a temper out the ass, and that’s coming from me, so be careful.”

“Right,” Kady said. “You’re right. You have enough on your plate; you shouldn’t have to worry about me doing stupid things.”

“It’s whatever,” Margo said. “I’ve just been trapped in a fairy deal I didn’t want before, and if you piss them off they could do a lot worse than give you an impossible choice to make.”

“What deal?” Kady knew Margo had lost her eye to a fairy, but she’d been so busy on the Earth side of things for so long that she never really knew what all had been happening in Fillory.

Margo shook her head. “I got an attitude with the fairies’ ambassador and he lost his damn mind on me. The only way he’d guarantee Eliot’s safety was to agree to something just…awful. And I did it. I’m not proud of it, and it’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done, but it was my choice and I have to live with that.” Her voice shook almost imperceptibly and she turned away from Kady. “It didn’t even buy him that much time.”

“Well, whatever it was, I wouldn’t blame you for it,” Kady said. “I’d probably do the same thing. I know how close you were with Eliot; I can’t even imagine what you’ve gone through.”

“It’s hard,” Margo said. “God, it’s so hard. I keep thinking he’ll come back somehow, because he always did before, but…I know he won’t this time.”

“I thought we’d be able to get Penny back, too. Our Penny.” Kady sighed. “Sometimes I think magic gives us too much hope.”

Margo snorted and wiped her eyes. “Yeah, you might be on to something.”

“I just can’t bring myself to hate it, though,” Kady said. “It’s the reason Penny is gone, but it’s also the reason I met him. The reason I met Julia. You. If I—”

Kady broke herself off. She searched the woods with her periphery, trying not to turn her head too much.

“If you what?”

“Shh.”

Kady caught another flash of movement to their right. She threw up a shield charm just as an arrow whipped through the trees, then followed it with a carefully aimed magic missile. She held her stance for a moment, waiting for any signs of the attacker, before dismounting her horse and creeping toward the trees. The hollow in the undergrowth where the archer had been waiting was empty, even underneath the small window of a revelation charm.

“Margo,” Kady said. “Go.”

“What? No,” Margo said, sliding out of her saddle. “No way. You’re not staying here alone.”

“Now’s not the time to argue,” Kady murmured, but she didn’t repeat herself. If Margo didn’t want to run, there was no way to make her. She held her hands ready to fire another missile and scanned the trees. “Surrender now if you want to stay alive,” she called.

Another arrow came from the other side of the path in response, and Margo conjured a shield while Kady released the magic missile. This time, she heard the crash of the body hitting tree branches under the force of the spell, but she still found no trace of them when she looked.

“This is bad,” she said. “Watch your back. I think we might be dealing with a traveler.”

Just as the words left her mouth, a man appeared directly in front of Margo, a dagger in his hand. She scarcely managed to conjure another shield before he struck, and his blow glanced off of the magical barrier. Kady felt it then, the magic in the air dwindling to nothing, and Margo’s shield fizzled out.

She’d never moved so fast in her life. She threw herself against Margo, pushing her out of the way, with only her raised arm to block herself from the dagger. She gritted her teeth as the blade carved into her skin and she gathered all of her strength to land a blow of her own to his jaw. He went down, finally, and she stood over his prone body. It wouldn’t be long before he regained consciousness, and then he wouldn’t allow himself to be so easily caught.

Kady knelt down and gripped his head in both hands, then jerked it around until she felt his neck break.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I had to,” Kady said. “When he woke up he’d travel away and then he’d just come back.”

“Yeah, I don’t give a shit about him,” Margo said. “Are you okay?”

“It’s fine,” Kady said. “It’s just my arm.” But with the threat gone, pain flooded through her arm and all along her left side, blood coating her hand and dripping into the dirt.

Margo pulled her cloak off and ripped one of the sleeves off of her dress at the seams. “Here,” she said, “hold your arm out.” Kady did, and Margo pressed the fabric against the wound. “How bad is it?” she said. “Can you tell?”

Kady shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said. “I can move my fingers, so that’s probably a good sign.”

“Okay,” Margo said, “can you ride? Maybe I should find a bunny and call for a carriage.”

“It’s fine,” Kady said again. “If that’s not the same guy who attacked you before, we need to keep moving. They’re obviously working in a group.”

She winced as she gripped her horse’s mane in her hand, the pain shooting more forcefully through her, but she pushed it aside to try to pull herself into the saddle. Her strength failed halfway up and she let her right leg fall back to the ground.

“Are you sure you’re all right?” Margo said.

“I’ll just get up on the other side,” Kady said breathlessly, but she stumbled taking her foot out of the stirrup, and she suddenly felt too weak to walk. She held herself up with her arm over the horse’s back and leaned her forehead against his flank.

“Kady, seriously,” came Margo’s voice again, her voice tinged with concern. “Something’s not right.”

No, Kady thought, it’s not. She felt warmth under her nose, and when she wiped it, her hand came away red.

An arm wrapped around Kady’s waist as Margo took on some of her weight and led her away from the horse.

“Come on,” she said, “you can ride with me. Whitespire’s far enough away there should be magic there and we’ll find out what’s wrong. We just have to get there.”

Margo unbuckled the saddle from her horse and dropped it to the ground before boosting Kady up and climbing on in front of her.

“You can hold on to me, right?”

“Yeah,” Kady said, and wrapped her arms around Margo’s waist. She couldn’t get a grip with her wounded arm, but Margo held the reins in one hand and held Kady’s arms against her with the other as she urged the horse forward.

They fell into a gallop within minutes, and each beat of the horse’s hooves jostled more air out of Kady’s body. Her chest felt thick and heavy, as if she were breathing water, and her head swam with the feeling. Maybe she was drowning, but she could still feel Margo in her arms, so she couldn’t be.

“Kady, are you still okay back there?”

Margo’s voice sounded distant, and Kady wanted to say yes, but she couldn’t gather enough breath for it.

“Kady?”

I’m here, Kady thought.

She leaned against Margo’s back, and she couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer.

***

Kady woke with a new kind of weight on her chest. She felt okay, really. Her arm stung, but it didn’t radiate through her like before. Her head was clear, if achy. She could breathe. The only thing out of the ordinary was the light pressure above her heart.

Her eyes blurred when she opened them and the room gradually came into focus as she blinked the uncomfortable dryness away. Margo’s room. She recognized the latticed windows and cross-vaulted ceiling, and the scent of Margo’s perfume was almost overpowering.

Margo herself lay curled up into Kady’s side, her head resting on her chest and her arm slung over her stomach. Kady supposed she was asleep. She didn’t know why she did it, but she lifted her hand to run her fingers through Margo’s hair, gently combing and stroking it until Margo shifted under her touch.

Kady had only seen Margo look like this once before: her eyes puffy and red, dried tears on her cheeks. It looked like she’d tried to take her makeup off, but remnants of wet mascara shadowed her eyelids.

“Kady,” Margo breathed. “Thank God.” She gathered Kady into her arms and hugged her as best she could lying down. “Thank God.”

Kady hugged Margo back, and she could feel the smaller girl trembling in her embrace. “What happened?”

Margo sat up and wiped fresh tears out of her eyes. “The blade was poisoned,” she said. “You…you weren’t breathing when we got here. The healers removed the poison but they weren’t sure you would wake up.”

Kady sighed and rubbed her temple. “Poison,” she said. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“I should have run,” Margo said. “I should have gone when you told me to. This wouldn’t have happened.”

“No,” Kady said, “I’m glad you didn’t. He would have traveled after you and I wouldn’t have been able to block you when the magic failed.”

“You died!” Margo’s lip quivered. “You died, Kady. I was terrified. I’d rather—”

“Hey…” Kady took Margo’s hand and squeezed it comfortingly. “It’s okay. This is what I signed on for when I agreed to be your guard.”

Margo sighed. “I’m just glad you’re okay,” she said. “Listen, I’m not good with the whole…you know…feelings thing, but…” She scoffed and shook her head. “God, this is so stupid.”

“I know,” Kady said. “I’m not good at it either. But, you know…” She took a deep breath. “If this is about last night—the things you said to me last night—I was awake. You don’t have to say it again.”

Margo gave a short laugh. “You think I didn’t know you were awake?”

Kady blinked. “What? But you said—”

“I hoped you were asleep, but I figured you probably weren’t,” Margo said. “Nobody sleeps very well after drinking fairy whiskey. It was just easier to say those things when I knew you wouldn’t say anything back.” She looked down and toyed with a loose thread in the comforter. “No, that’s not what I wanted to tell you. There’s something else I didn’t mention last night.”

“What is it?” Kady asked. She hated the ‘butterflies’ expression, but all she could think was that they were in her chest, and they desperately wanted out.

“I love you.”

Kady froze. She’d never expected those words to come out of Margo’s mouth, not directed toward her. Her first instinct was to deflect—after all, that was all she ever did whenever somebody got close—but she couldn’t. She didn’t want to push this away.

Instead, she sat up and cupped Margo’s cheek in her hand, wiped her tears with her thumb, and kissed her. Margo hesitated for a moment, and then Kady felt her kiss back, pulling her closer with one hand on her neck and one in her hair until their bodies pressed together so firmly that Kady could feel Margo’s heart beat against her chest. Margo bowed her head when they broke apart, and Kady pressed her lips to her forehead.

“So are you really gonna make me say it and not say it back?” Margo said.

Kady laughed and leaned back to look Margo in the eye. A month. She could never have said it to someone after a month before, but maybe she was getting better. Maybe it was something about Margo that made her feel sure enough of herself not to hide.

“I love you, too.”

[interiorstarweb]

Here! There! Everywhere!

OH HELLO! It’s June! How did that happen?! There’s so much going on. Let’s run it down in no particular order because my brain’s all over the place.

The gang is back together! Edwin, Edgar and I are in the midst of building a large-and-in-charge wraparound front porch on a circa-1900 house in Kingston! Perhaps I should say rebuilding, since the porch was demolished long ago. So we’re constructing a close resemblance of the original porch, based on the bits of information we have—a few photos, dimensions from old tax assessment records, and the few pieces of the original porch that remained. It’s a big huge project that’s been in the works for a couple of YEARS now, so it’s super exciting that it’s finally happening. It’s also daunting! Partially because it’s HUGE at almost 800 square feet, and partially because it’s a significant addition that will completely change the appearance of this old house and I have to make it look right and like it’s always been there! Part of my job is keeping everyone occupied and PAID, so aside from this big project I’ve also been hustling my ass around town on a bunch of smaller projects that the guys can hit when it rains, or a product order is late, or whatever. It’s kinda a lot to manage.

Let me tell you a story! Last summer, I reluctantly dove into the waters of Instagram Stories while we were working on a different house just outside of Kingston. Admittedly, I’m an extremely rare story-watcher, but evidently I’m a semi-prolific story-maker. It’s fun! It’s easy! As we know by now, as much as I like to write, I frequently struggle with actually having the time to dedicate entire blog posts to stuff that I plan to dedicate entire blog posts to while they’re happening, so Instagram Stories have been a nice alternate way to document things in real time. If you’re not following me already, first of all get your life together, and second of all go find me @DanielKanter. Then just keep an eye out for new posts, I guess! I try to archive the more relevant bits into the Highlights feature at the top of my profile, if you need to catch up a little on the aforementioned porch project.

What’s that you say? A different house outside of Kingston? Yeah! I guess if you don’t follow me on Instagram, you wouldn’t have a way of knowing about the cool quirky old farmhouse the guys and I renovated last summer/fall/winter! Honestly it was another doozy—not quite Olivebridge proportions, but still managed to go from a couple changes and a bunch of sprucing up to a top-to-bottom overhaul of…everything? 2 bathrooms! Kitchen! Laundry! All the rooms! The whole outside! Mechanicals! The bulk of the work ended in February but I just did a final install last week. I have to go back and photograph it but it’s nice to have this 8-week-turned-8-month project off my plate a bit.

Speaking of Olivebridge. If you read even one of those tumultuous posts about the Olivebridge house, I owe you some resolution. We don’t have to get into all the mostly-stupid reasons that hasn’t yet come to pass, but I haven’t forgotten. Honestly the fact that I haven’t blogged about it makes me feel like the book is still open on that project—in spite of the house’s successful completion!—and that feeling sucks so it’s high time to get my shit together on that front. MAYBE IT COULD ACTUALLY BE FUN! At the very least I think it will really and truly feel finished in terms of big life events I’d never want to repeat. Ha!

5 years! So I didn’t even think about it until the day after, but Friday marked the five year anniversary of owning my house! What a journey we’ve been on, this house and I. I still love it. I’m still overwhelmed by it. There are still parts of it I haven’t tackled and a lot of other parts in some stage of progress, but (knock on ALL the wood) I think the worst of the renovation is pretty much over and that feels GOOD. The past 2 years or so were particularly rocky, but it’s finally started to feel like a real home again—my home—and I’m more grateful than ever that I get to call this special house mine.

Laundry! Kitchen! Anticipating that this summer would be exactly as crazy as it’s shaping up to be, I set some concrete goals for myself and my renovation for the first four months of the year. We can talk about this more later, but experience is a valuable thing—and it’s taught me that working on multiple major renovation projects at different properties at the same time is a recipe for inefficiency and frazzled-ness and general misery, but I also obviously can’t just work on my own house all the time. So, I try to give myself a little time between client projects to re-focus on my own stuff and get as much done as I can. May 1st became the goal for having a functioning laundry room, a functioning kitchen, and doing some MAJOR clean-up and space-reclamation everywhere else once the first two items were accomplished and there’d be a bit more room to spread out. I DID IT! Having laundry again is amazing and having it on the second floor lights up my life. The kitchen is FAR from complete, but IT HAS WALLS and electric and plumbing—enough to hook up a sink, move in a few of my old cabinets, and start using the space again AS A KITCHEN for the first time in almost 2 years. And now that my dining room isn’t also a kitchen, and my living room isn’t also an enormous glorified dog kennel, I spent a weekend just rearranging my own shit for hours and now those two rooms look and feel so much better than they have in a LONG TIME. I even had two friends over for dinner! Like I said—still a ton to do, but getting to this point of basic usability feels huge.

So interior progress at my house will slow, but hopefully exterior work will continue. There’s a lot to do on the outside of my house—between gardening on the street-facing sides (and just maintaining what I have!), finally putting the finishing touches on the major exterior work that started last summer and the one before, and trying to get SOMETHING good going on in the backyard, I hope I can bang it out in my “free time” before fall/winter hits again. I’ve already decided that this summer I’m going to skip tearing off more vinyl siding in favor of just polishing off what’s already started—I can’t stand all the loose ends out there right now.

I have a major itch to landscape. Or hardscape maybe, more specifically? Getting the backyard just to square one was so labor-intensive and expensive that gathering the motivation (or setting aside the time, with the house itself needing so much attention!) to do much else with it has been tough. I’ve done two things that helped get my ass in gear, though: first, I asked a friend with a great garden to help me prioritize and plan and make a few decisions. FRIENDS! THEY’RE SO HELPFUL! Second, the Brinson’s invited me last minute to the Trade Secrets garden show in Connecticut, where we toured 3 amazing gardens including living legend Bunny Williams’ property, which I really just need to do a photo-dump kind of blog post about because it was so insanely good. Going to see this stuff IN MY CLIMATE (“omg, I can actually grow that too!!!”) was really valuable and the whole thing was for-real inspiring. Like I literally got home and began construction on a dry-stacked bluestone wall because I just had to get my inspo-overload ya-yas out somehow.

But don’t get carried away about my house, because there’s still Bluestone Cottage. I feel I owe a longer explanation about this than I want to get into right this instant, but long and short of it is—I MUST finish that house. Personally, professionally, emotionally, physically, financially—it needs to happen. I think I successfully enlisted an electrician last week, and the plumber has finally (sort of) reemerged after beginning the rough-in a YEAR ago, and my own living situation is finally back out of complete shambles, and life will go on and the house will get done and then I can stop feeling shitty about bad decisions I made when I was younger and dumber. Well, at least one of them.

Mekko is the best dog. We’ve also been dealing with some health stuff over the past few months, requiring visits to vet offices in 3 different states and a whole lotta money. It’s certainly not good but seems to be surmountable (yay!), and it’s been stressful and expensive and basically I’m trying to not freak out. I lost one dog 7 months ago. I refuse to entertain that this could resolve any way other than completely fine and she’ll go on to be the longest-living dog on record and then I’ll clone her. So anyway. That’s been awful, no lie, but could be way worse. Surgery, again, this Friday. Sigh.

I’ve bought some stuff. You know, since the last time I showed you some stuff I bought. I like pretty old stuff.

So that’s basically what’s up in my little corner of the world. What’s up in your little corner of the world? Do we want to hear about any of the above items in particular more than others? Watched any good TV lately?

Here! There! Everywhere! published first on https://novaformmattressreview.tumblr.com/

[carygarman980]

Here! There! Everywhere!

OH HELLO! It’s June! How did that happen?! There’s so much going on. Let’s run it down in no particular order because my brain’s all over the place.

The gang is back together! Edwin, Edgar and I are in the midst of building a large-and-in-charge wraparound front porch on a circa-1900 house in Kingston! Perhaps I should say rebuilding, since the porch was demolished long ago. So we’re constructing a close resemblance of the original porch, based on the bits of information we have—a few photos, dimensions from old tax assessment records, and the few pieces of the original porch that remained. It’s a big huge project that’s been in the works for a couple of YEARS now, so it’s super exciting that it’s finally happening. It’s also daunting! Partially because it’s HUGE at almost 800 square feet, and partially because it’s a significant addition that will completely change the appearance of this old house and I have to make it look right and like it’s always been there! Part of my job is keeping everyone occupied and PAID, so aside from this big project I’ve also been hustling my ass around town on a bunch of smaller projects that the guys can hit when it rains, or a product order is late, or whatever. It’s kinda a lot to manage.

Let me tell you a story! Last summer, I reluctantly dove into the waters of Instagram Stories while we were working on a different house just outside of Kingston. Admittedly, I’m an extremely rare story-watcher, but evidently I’m a semi-prolific story-maker. It’s fun! It’s easy! As we know by now, as much as I like to write, I frequently struggle with actually having the time to dedicate entire blog posts to stuff that I plan to dedicate entire blog posts to while they’re happening, so Instagram Stories have been a nice alternate way to document things in real time. If you’re not following me already, first of all get your life together, and second of all go find me @DanielKanter. Then just keep an eye out for new posts, I guess! I try to archive the more relevant bits into the Highlights feature at the top of my profile, if you need to catch up a little on the aforementioned porch project.

What’s that you say? A different house outside of Kingston? Yeah! I guess if you don’t follow me on Instagram, you wouldn’t have a way of knowing about the cool quirky old farmhouse the guys and I renovated last summer/fall/winter! Honestly it was another doozy—not quite Olivebridge proportions, but still managed to go from a couple changes and a bunch of sprucing up to a top-to-bottom overhaul of…everything? 2 bathrooms! Kitchen! Laundry! All the rooms! The whole outside! Mechanicals! The bulk of the work ended in February but I just did a final install last week. I have to go back and photograph it but it’s nice to have this 8-week-turned-8-month project off my plate a bit.

Speaking of Olivebridge. If you read even one of those tumultuous posts about the Olivebridge house, I owe you some resolution. We don’t have to get into all the mostly-stupid reasons that hasn’t yet come to pass, but I haven’t forgotten. Honestly the fact that I haven’t blogged about it makes me feel like the book is still open on that project—in spite of the house’s successful completion!—and that feeling sucks so it’s high time to get my shit together on that front. MAYBE IT COULD ACTUALLY BE FUN! At the very least I think it will really and truly feel finished in terms of big life events I’d never want to repeat. Ha!

5 years! So I didn’t even think about it until the day after, but Friday marked the five year anniversary of owning my house! What a journey we’ve been on, this house and I. I still love it. I’m still overwhelmed by it. There are still parts of it I haven’t tackled and a lot of other parts in some stage of progress, but (knock on ALL the wood) I think the worst of the renovation is pretty much over and that feels GOOD. The past 2 years or so were particularly rocky, but it’s finally started to feel like a real home again—my home—and I’m more grateful than ever that I get to call this special house mine.

Laundry! Kitchen! Anticipating that this summer would be exactly as crazy as it’s shaping up to be, I set some concrete goals for myself and my renovation for the first four months of the year. We can talk about this more later, but experience is a valuable thing—and it’s taught me that working on multiple major renovation projects at different properties at the same time is a recipe for inefficiency and frazzled-ness and general misery, but I also obviously can’t just work on my own house all the time. So, I try to give myself a little time between client projects to re-focus on my own stuff and get as much done as I can. May 1st became the goal for having a functioning laundry room, a functioning kitchen, and doing some MAJOR clean-up and space-reclamation everywhere else once the first two items were accomplished and there’d be a bit more room to spread out. I DID IT! Having laundry again is amazing and having it on the second floor lights up my life. The kitchen is FAR from complete, but IT HAS WALLS and electric and plumbing—enough to hook up a sink, move in a few of my old cabinets, and start using the space again AS A KITCHEN for the first time in almost 2 years. And now that my dining room isn’t also a kitchen, and my living room isn’t also an enormous glorified dog kennel, I spent a weekend just rearranging my own shit for hours and now those two rooms look and feel so much better than they have in a LONG TIME. I even had two friends over for dinner! Like I said—still a ton to do, but getting to this point of basic usability feels huge.

So interior progress at my house will slow, but hopefully exterior work will continue. There’s a lot to do on the outside of my house—between gardening on the street-facing sides (and just maintaining what I have!), finally putting the finishing touches on the major exterior work that started last summer and the one before, and trying to get SOMETHING good going on in the backyard, I hope I can bang it out in my “free time” before fall/winter hits again. I’ve already decided that this summer I’m going to skip tearing off more vinyl siding in favor of just polishing off what’s already started—I can’t stand all the loose ends out there right now.

I have a major itch to landscape. Or hardscape maybe, more specifically? Getting the backyard just to square one was so labor-intensive and expensive that gathering the motivation (or setting aside the time, with the house itself needing so much attention!) to do much else with it has been tough. I’ve done two things that helped get my ass in gear, though: first, I asked a friend with a great garden to help me prioritize and plan and make a few decisions. FRIENDS! THEY’RE SO HELPFUL! Second, the Brinson’s invited me last minute to the Trade Secrets garden show in Connecticut, where we toured 3 amazing gardens including living legend Bunny Williams’ property, which I really just need to do a photo-dump kind of blog post about because it was so insanely good. Going to see this stuff IN MY CLIMATE (“omg, I can actually grow that too!!!”) was really valuable and the whole thing was for-real inspiring. Like I literally got home and began construction on a dry-stacked bluestone wall because I just had to get my inspo-overload ya-yas out somehow.

But don’t get carried away about my house, because there’s still Bluestone Cottage. I feel I owe a longer explanation about this than I want to get into right this instant, but long and short of it is—I MUST finish that house. Personally, professionally, emotionally, physically, financially—it needs to happen. I think I successfully enlisted an electrician last week, and the plumber has finally (sort of) reemerged after beginning the rough-in a YEAR ago, and my own living situation is finally back out of complete shambles, and life will go on and the house will get done and then I can stop feeling shitty about bad decisions I made when I was younger and dumber. Well, at least one of them.

Mekko is the best dog. We’ve also been dealing with some health stuff over the past few months, requiring visits to vet offices in 3 different states and a whole lotta money. It’s certainly not good but seems to be surmountable (yay!), and it’s been stressful and expensive and basically I’m trying to not freak out. I lost one dog 7 months ago. I refuse to entertain that this could resolve any way other than completely fine and she’ll go on to be the longest-living dog on record and then I’ll clone her. So anyway. That’s been awful, no lie, but could be way worse. Surgery, again, this Friday. Sigh.

I’ve bought some stuff. You know, since the last time I showed you some stuff I bought. I like pretty old stuff.

So that’s basically what’s up in my little corner of the world. What’s up in your little corner of the world? Do we want to hear about any of the above items in particular more than others? Watched any good TV lately?

[dandelliongirl]

Life with

mr. Bunny.

Needless to say I didn’t get much done this week. It’s been weird and new trying to learn the ins and outs of being a pet owner.

We came back from the cottage on Sunday, and I spent the day relaxing at the apartment. My guy brought the bunny over in the evening, and we got his cage all set up. We had to barricade off our bedroom and the living room with random objects (now we have actual doggy fences set up) but otherwise the bunny gets to hop around and explore. He has been getting a lot braver. In the beginning he didn’t want to step off the rugs because the floor is too slippery for a quick getaway if something scares him. Now he loves visiting the bathroom and going around from the kitchen to the livingroom and back to the kitchen. At first I had a hard time adjusting to the bunny since I’m generally bad with change. I felt almost insulted when the bunny decided to stomp his foot at 4am for some reason and I couldn’t sleep. It’s like how dare this guy come into my house and abuse my hospitality and change my life and routines like this. However he has been staying calm and I’m starting to get used to the routines of feeding him, swiping the floors before bedtime, and scooping the poop every couple of days. I love singing ABBA’s super trooper but with pooper scooper when I clean the cage. He does still occupy a bunch of my brain space but I guess we’ll both settle into more of a routine as the weeks go by. He’s a very loving bunny. I just need to learn to not stress about his eating and every single sneeze.

So, I absolutely did not get any thesis work or JLPT done on Monday. I spent Tuesday and Wednesday at the office working on our intensive summer course stuff. On Wednesday evening me and a couple of colleagues put together our dance teaching schedule for next year and it’s a bit problematic for me. My own ballet classes were moved from Tuesday and Thursday to Tuesday and Friday, which means I have to either give up Friday’s ballet or teaching Friday’s dance classes. If I teach Sundays I won’t take Friday’s classes and can go to my own ballet, but if I can’t take Sunday I have to take Friday. I won’t take both Friday and Sunday because I need a weekend. Both days kind of suck but nobody wants to teach those days anyway so somebody has to take the shitty gigs. I have a lot to think about.

On Thursday I had a JLPT study date, and spent the rest of the day playing ACNL with my friend. We got over a hundred island medals by repeatedly owning the official scavenger hunt. I made a mushroom sauce with pasta. I’ve been doing really bad financially so I was glad to find some mushrooms in the freezer. One thing about moving to live on my own is sometimes I legitimately cry over food because it’s not just eating toast 3 times a day or getting pizza, and sometimes satisfying a craving just feels so good. I was craving pasta for a few weeks and it was so good. Now I’m craving mashed potatoes again but I probably have to wait until I get my paycheck. I’ve been living off of whatever’s in the cupboards and what my boyfriend buys. He hasn’t been around a lot so it’s been oatmeal and bread for the most part. My ED is happy about not having food, but my normal self knows that starving isn’t the way to sustainably lose weight. I just want to go running, and that’s what I hate about living downtown. The best running paths are a ways off and I can’t run on asphalt because it hurts my knees.

My ballet group went on a fun picnic yesterday. It was a beautiful and sunny day, and we spent it on the beach. We even went to have some fun at an outdoor gym, and tried to play beach volley but there was a tournament. I’ve had some real anxiety today because yesterday was so much fun and all I’ve done today was a bit of JLPT, watching random anime and taking an hour long nap. It’s a sunny and warm day - perhaps the last one this summer, who knows. And here I am in an apartment watching TV or on the computer. A serious case of FOMO but my parents are at the cottage, my guy is at work and my friend is at her granny’s place. I don’t really have other friends that I could spontaneously ask out. At least mr. Bunny has been able to spent the entire day outside his cage since me and my guy are going to be gone for two days. We’re going to visit my cousins tomorrow. We get to play so much video games it’s not even real.

I’m hoping I can spend a couple of days at the uni library on Monday. I have to spend Tuesday at the office and the intensive summer course welcoming evening is on Tuesday as well so it’ll be a long day. A study date, ballet class and a Skype meeting on Wednesday and I’m taking Thursday off as it’s also my guy’s day off. We do have a sauna evening with our intensive course students though but yeah. I have a bunch of errands to take care of next week as well. So much for a summer vacation I guess. Hopefully I get to take a week or so completely off at some point. Probably won’t happen because of thesis and JLPT though but... Maybe in August when my mum is on holiday.

Oh that’s right, it’s the 1st of July 2017 today! ☼