#my next day off is friday so i won’t really be around until then <33< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[dolentends]

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[maybege]

Birthday Party Adventures

Summary: With his daughter’s birthday party approaching, Paz has many plans to make it all go right. What he didn’t expect was for Emily to invite her teacher and his crush – you.

Pairing: single dad!Paz Vizsla x fem!teacher!Reader

Wordcount: 4.0k | Rating: T

Warnings: Modern AU, fluffy fluff

Oh I feel like it has been ages since I initially wrote this (back in September actually!) but I love it just as much as on the first day and I hope that you will enjoy it too! This is dedicated to my Paz Gang @aerynwrites @datmando @hdlynnslibrary @princessbatears and @stubbychaos who came up with this wonderful AU idea. ❤

masterlist | crossposted on AO3

Paz was overwhelmed.

Paz was truly and utterly overwhelmed.

“Can I go and get my cereal?” Emily asked next to him, clearly bored with her father’s antics, “You will take ages to choose, Uncle Din was right.”

“All right, go ahead,” he mumbled, choosing to ignore the fact that Din had – once again – infiltrated his daughter’s thoughts with horrible lies. He did not take ages. Anybody would take as long as he was taking when the choices were so … vast.

Cake mix after cake mix was displayed in the aisle and how would he know which one he should get?

Emily’s birthday was this weekend – Saturday to be exact and he had promised her a cake. He always promised her a cake. And he always failed.

But not this time.

This time, he had listened to his best friend and would settle on a cake mix although he still felt like he was cutting corners. But at least it would not be store-bought. And, as Fennec had suggested, he could still buy some decorations to make the cake special.

Because that’s what Emily deserved – a special cake, made with love.

So, while his daughter was probably trying to find the sweetest cereal there was available, he tried to settle on a cake.

Deep down, Paz knew that Emily was probably eating way too much sugar. But to be honest, there were so many battles he could fight at once and he was more prepared to fight some judgmental soccer moms than the will of his own daughter.

Holding two cake mixes in his hands – birthday confetti and chocolate – Paz whipped around as he heard an all too familiar voice greet him. “Mr Vizsla, it is so nice to see you.”

There you were.

The woman of his dreams.

Emily’s teacher.

Stars, he knew he was probably acting absolutely ridiculous around you. No matter what kind of school event there was, as one of Emily’s main teachers you were always around he was never able to take his eyes off you.

Not only were you pretty and smart but you were kind. You kept all the kids in check with a calmness that he admired you for and he could see how you valued each and every student in your class. And now you were here, wrapped in an oversized cardigan and clutching a shopping basket in your hands.

But you beamed at him and he was sure he’d never seen anything prettier.

Forgotten were the cake mixes in his hands as he lowered them to the sides of his body. “Hi, um, Miss –“

“Emily was mentioning you were having trouble choosing.”

“Em saw you?”

You chuckled, avoiding your eyes as if you were embarrassed, “I came over to say hello and she mentioned you needed help to choose a cake?”

Speak, for maker’s sake, speak! A voice in his head screamed at him but his brain was still processing the fact that (a) this was not a school event and (b) you were speaking to him, leading to (c) you were speaking to him in your own free time.

“Chocolate.”

“What?”

“I would go with chocolate,” you gestured to the box in his right hand, biting your lip and stars, he wanted to hold your hand and kiss your cheek and take walks through the park with you. Instead, here he was, making a fool of himself.

“I will trust your judgment, then,” he nodded, carefully putting the other box back on the shelf. When that was done, you kept standing there in front of him looking up at him expectantly. Why – why? – couldn’t he speak? It should not be this hard to open his mouth.

He just needed to say I think you are wonderful and I would like to get to know you more. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?

“Um, would you like to …”, his voice trailed off.

You did that lip-biting thing again and your whole face lit up and stars, maybe you wanted him to ask you. “Yes?”

“I was wondering if you would like to –“

“I know you said I wasn’t allowed the sweet ones but it’s my birthday soon,” Em announced loudly, dropping a box in the already full shopping cart and pouting at him, “Can I have it as an early present, pretty please?”

Mission: Ask Pretty Teacher Out For Dinner was immediately aborted and he swore he saw a look of disappointment flash across your face. At least that was something to give him hope.

“Dad always makes me a cake and he fails every year, it’s a tradition by now,” his daughter explained and he groaned inwardly, but then she had her thinking face on – the same she had as a toddler – and suddenly added, “You should bring one.”

“What?”

“Em, I don’t think your teacher has the time to …”

But Em, bless her soul, would not be deterred from her plan. By now he cursed the stubborn streak that ran through his family and had evidently taken root in his daughter as well.

“Dad always talks about how much he likes your raspberry chocolate crumble,” she shrugged, “And my classmates like it too.”

When would the ground open up and swallow him whole?

And the worst thing was: Em wasn’t even lying. She had her blunt honesty from him and the way he had gushed about that raspberry crumble had been unusual, especially for him. But it had also been unusually good. And the way you had smiled at him when he had taken a second serving had made his heart warm.

Now though, there were no words that could describe the embarrassment that flowed through him. He felt exposed in a way that he had not felt for a long time and being at anyone’s mercy – even if it was yours – was not something that he cherished.

“Well,” you started with a smile and looked at him, “If your dad won’t mind, I could certainly bring over a cake for your birthday party.”

“He won’t mind.”

“I won’t mind.”

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise and you smiled, genuinely smiled, at him. Paz’s breath caught in his throat. Stars, you were beautiful. Everything about you was just magnificent from the tips of your hair to your eyes, your nose, your lips, how you hugged your oversized cardigan closer to you.

“Great,” you nodded, “So … I will see you then?”

“My dad will text you the info,” Emily added, seemingly the only one who kept her cool at the situation.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, “Oh, but I don’t –“

“Dad, why don’t you give Miss Y/L/N your number?” Em brazenly suggested, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that he knew all too well, “For adult stuff.”

He could feel his ears burn, could hear himself sputtering out words about how he did not want to be inappropriate and how this should be your decision and not Emily’s. And stars, he didn’t want to make advances towards you.

Well, he did.

He did want to flirt with you, wanted to compliment you on your kind eyes and your shining smile. But not like this. Not if it made you uncomfortable. And certainly not in the blaring lights of the grocery store aisle.

But before he could say anything more, before he could dig his hole deeper, you had your phone in your hands and were looking at him expectantly. And then he stumbled through his phone number, you nodding all the while and typing the numbers into a new contact.

“Great,” you smiled, “So – I will see you then?”

“Yes,” he murmured dumbly, “I will see you then.”

*

5:33 pm: Hi! This is Y/N 😊 Just wanted to say I’m really looking forward to Emily’s party this Saturday. Is there anything I should bring next to the crumble?

5:59 pm: Sorry, it just occurred to me that you probably only know me by my last name. I’m Emily’s teacher.

6:12 pm: Hello, this is Paz. Emily’s dad. You do not need to bring anything other than the cake and yourself.

7:43 pm: I am looking forward to seeing you too.

*

Saturday rolled around quicker than he had anticipated.

He had spent the week trying to make sure everything would be ready for Emily’s party (and your arrival) and that the apartment would be in tip-top shape to be destroyed by a bunch of kids.

He had spent almost all of Friday night wrapping presents when Emily was fast asleep only to be woken up at sunrise by his very energetic daughter who wanted to have some tasty pancakes from their favourite café around the corner.

He loved mornings like this.

Where it was just Em and him and they could enjoy their peace and quiet. Seeing her grow up was bliss and torture at the same time. He loved her, he was so proud of her and seeing her grow slowly but surely into a confident young woman was everything he’d ever wished for. But at the same time, it felt like time was slipping through his fingers. He wanted to catch these precious moments in his hands and never let them go.

This moment of calm did not last for long though, only for breakfast and until they were back in the apartment, preparing excitedly for the party that was to come.

Baking a cake was a disaster just like Emily had said it would be.

Maybe she had been right in saying that it was a tradition now. Maybe he really would not be able to bake a cake for her.

But now it was not only the cake. In less than an hour, 10 kids would swarm the way too small city apartment and he would need to prepare some food and why had he decided against ordering pizza and what if something went wrong?

And you would show up too, sometime, and he had wanted to change into something more appropriate for actually having a teacher (aka crush) over and being dressed in his flour-covered flannel shirt was certainly not it.

The doorbell rang just as the bowl of cake mix fell to the tiled floor. “Kriffing shit” he cursed trying to jump out of the cloud of grains just as he heard the tell-tale footsteps of Emily running to the door. “I got it!”

“No, Em, wait -!”

But it was too late. He had just caught himself on the doorframe when you stepped into the hallway, looking around curiously. You fit in so well, he thought instinctively, you could live here too.

“I’m a bit too early, I hope you don’t –“ you halted in your words, tilting your head at his flour-covered appearance, “mind.”

“I – I am so sorry,” he started, trying to dust off but only making it worse, “I was a bit in a hurry and I –“

“It’s all right,” you replied quickly, lifting the box in your hands lamely, “I brought cake.”

“I will take that,” Em decided, taking the cake off your hands and transporting it to the dinner table in the living room. But not without showing him the huge grin on her face.

“I’m sorry for the mess, I just …” he threw up his hands in defeat, desperation clear in his voice, as you followed him into the chaotic kitchen.

“No worries, we will manage that just fine.”

The way you said we made his heart beat faster and he stepped aside to make space for you.

The apartment Emily and he lived in was actually a miracle to find in such a big city and he still thanked the stars for the day when the landlord had decided to let him, a single father and his tiny daughter, move in. But for all its perks – the layout, the view, the small balcony that fit a small bench – the apartment had one single flaw: The kitchen.

It was a tiny kitchen with the counters wrapping around all three walls and leaving only the space free where the doorway was. And it was narrow. He had always cursed it, especially with his size, and more than once had he accidentally hit his head on a cabinet door that his daughter had left open.

And where it was small for one full-grown adult, it was a tight fit for two. Which made it even worse. Or better. Depending on how one viewed things.

You bumped against him constantly, his hands brushing accidentally against yours, one time almost smashing into you but only hitting your foreheads together. And you only ever giggled or smiled shyly at him, never ever stepping away from the closeness and it made his heart flutter in his chest.

Maybe – maybe you wanted that too.

While he was mixing the dough together under your careful eyes, you had started to slice some apples that he had found in the pantry. He threw a few glances your way, catching you looking at him too before smiling at you.

Stars, he really was behaving like a lovesick puppy, wasn’t he?

“You are pretty good at this,” he commented, nodding towards the cake that you had brought with you. You spooned a bit of cinnamon into the apple mix, before spreading the dough in the baking form he had found somewhere in a cabinet.

“It’s a hobby,” you shrugged your shoulders, “I was never good with finding new connections when I moved and I found that making good food helps people to talk to you.”

“I can’t imagine anyone not wanting to talk to you,” he blurted out, feeling his ears grow hot, “I mean because – you don’t need baking to be nice and I – fuck, wait, shit no, I don’t mean fuck, I – “

You laughed, full-on giggles escaping you as he sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. “I’m sorry, I imagined all of this differently.”

“How – how did you imagine it?” you asked quietly, stepping closer to him. Your eyes were so big now and you looked so hopeful and he could feel his heart skip a beat.

“Well, I wanted to look competent for once,” he stated, gesturing around the filled countertops, “And not forcing you to help me make up my mistakes.”

“You’re not forcing me to do anything,” you protested, biting your lip, “I – I like helping you and … spending time with you.”

“Dad, Alyssa is already on her way, are you sure want to cook? Is the cake even ready? I invited Isabelle and I don’t want her to think that I can’t –“

Apparently, he could not hide the misery on his face – when had he decided that it would be a good idea to not only bake a cake but cook for a hoard of hungry kids? – because you snorted next to him, clearly amused. Emily had crossed her arms in front of her chest, looking pleadingly up at him.

“Don’t worry, your father and I will make sure there will be enough cake to go around,” you reassured his daughter before looking at him, “Do you have a plan for dinner?”

“We could always order pizza,” Emily suggested, the hope in her eyes clear as she looked at him.

Stars, when would he ever be able to deny her anything?

“It’s true,” he chuckled, patting his daughter on her back, “We always end up with pizza anyway.”

So, while you and Em busied yourselves with putting the pie in the oven, he ordered pizza for everyone. (A few family-sized pizzas would be enough right?) And because he was feeling a little more confident, he also added a side of garlic bread and a bottle of wine to the order. Maybe you would like to stay if he could offer a glass of wine?

On his way back, he passed Emily on the way to the bathroom. “I will go get ready,” she announced loudly while also wildly gesturing towards the kitchen.

When he entered the small room, he could feel the heat of the oven already.

“It should be done soon if everything works as it should,” you announced and straightened up, “The kids definitely won’t starve.”

“I cannot thank you enough,” the relief in his voice was clear, “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

“Then it is a good thing we won’t have to know,” you teased him and the mirth in your eyes made him want to kiss you so badly. And there it was again. That silent tension between the two of you.

This would be a good moment, he thought to himself as he slowly lowered his face towards yours, Emily was occupied getting ready, the pie was in the oven, you were alone with him and he could hear your breath hitch in your throat.

Delicate fingers closed around his wrist, pulling him closer and he could feel your breath on his face and just a little bit more and then –

Ring!

He flinched away from you, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s probably Alyssa,” he whispered, avoiding your gaze.

Alyssa was dropped off by her mother. Her eyes fell to you, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, drying your hands on a towel and looking very much at home (he tried to ignore how warm that made him feel).

“Miss Y/L/N,” she greeted you, clearly caught off guard, “what a surprise to see you here, I didn’t know that Emily had invited you too.”

“Oh well you know …” you shrugged your shoulders and he could hear the wheels turning in your head, searching for a good excuse.

“My dad invited her,” Em announced smugly, her and Alyssa grinning from ear to ear.

The awkward silence between the adults would have been hilarious hadn’t he been a part of it. But what his brain decided to focus on the most was the fact that you had not denied it, you had simply smiled at Alyssa’s mom, made some small talk about the newest English project you had the kids working on, and remained standing next to him the whole time.

Paz was sure that his gazing at you was obvious to everyone present but he could not help himself.

One after another, the little guests trickled in, playing board games and eating your delicious cake in the living room. He helped Em set up the little karaoke game that she had gotten from Din last Christmas and excited cheers filled the room as they tried to look at the different song options.

Paz left them to their own devices, knowing that should anything go wrong, Em would come and get him.

But with the living room occupied, the only space left for him and you to be was the tiny kitchen.

“So … I, um, I helped you with the cake,” you started to shuffle, hands wringing in front of your belly, “I really don’t want to outstay my welcome and –“

“You could stay if you want,” he suggested, blood pumping in his veins, “I – I have ordered some wine and garlic bread if you’d like.”

And that’s how you ended up sitting next to him on the kitchen floor, your legs stretched out in front of you. He had to angle his legs a little, the space between the counters too small for him. But the closeness it provided to you was more than worth it. He fished two wine glasses from the shelf, handing them down to you before grabbing the bottle of wine.

There were no clean plates left so he spread the pizza carton out on both of your legs, the warmth of the food seeping into his thighs.

“To a successful birthday party,” you stated, carefully clinking your glass with his, “And to the very talented father who organized it all.”

“To the best baker out there,” he replied and the way you bit your lip made him smile.

He bit into the garlic bread heartily and his stomach grumbled satisfied.

“This is so good,” you moaned next to him, mouth still full and he grinned.

You ate in peaceful silence, munching on a few leftover slices of pizza that the kids had graciously left. With the warm glow from the kitchen lamps, he decided that birthday parties weren’t so bad when he had you there to enjoy it with.

When he looked at you, his gaze fell to a drop of red sauce that had found its place on the corner of your mouth. You tilted your head questioningly.

“You, uh,” he murmured, gesturing towards his face, “You got something there.”

When your hands missed it, his own rose up to your face. He swore he could hear your breath hitch as his thumb brushed over the tomato sauce, wiping it away.

But your face remained turned towards him, your lips slightly open and were you getting closer?

Was he reading the signs right? He didn’t even know. All he knew was he wanted to kiss you. Really. Truly. No matter how inappropriate it might be.

And with the karaoke in the background and a bunch of 10-year olds shrieking the lyrics to the newest chart, he bowed down his head and kissed you. Full on the mouth.

It was soft and gentle, both of you not moving an inch. But then his hand crept forward, gently framing your cheek and you gasped against him, your hands wrapping around his neck and pulling him closer and stars you were returning the kiss.

You tasted of wine and cake and you were soft, so soft, he loved every second of it.

Slowly, he started to move his lips, brushing his tongue on your bottom lip, pulling your closer and suddenly you were straddling him, his hands on your hips pulling your closer and his back against the counter and the screeching of some Jojo Siwa song in the background.

When he slowly pulled away, your bottom lip falling from his teeth, your chest was heaving from his kisses, your lips were swollen, and he wanted to pull you to him again. A smile tugged at his lips.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?” he asked breathlessly, eyes searching for any indication that he had crossed a line. But you were still clinging to him, your hands wandering down to grasp at his forearms.

This. This would be what he dreamed about now. The smile on your lips, how your eyes shone in the low kitchen lights, how you kept touching him.

“I’d really like that,” you nodded, the small smile on your lips growing bigger by the seconds.

“Really?” he asked, his nose nudging against yours, “That’s – that’s great, how about tomorrow? We could go for a walk in the park?”

“A walk in the park sounds great,” you whispered against his lips and he dipped his head to kiss you again, just as slowly.

“Good,” he murmured.

“Good,” you repeated, your tongue mingling with his.

“Dad, do we have any more of that cake left, it’s actually really –“

In a panic, he almost threw you off him.

You were doing your best to right your cardigan as Emily entered the kitchen, eyeing both of you suspiciously.

“Sorry, what was that, Em?” he asked, swallowing hard and hoping to all the stars that she hadn’t seen him make out with you like a teenager.

“I was just wondering if you had any more cake left, I can’t believe it but it actually tastes good?!”

He laughed and gestured towards the counter, “there some more, you can take the tray to the living room, I – we will just clean up some more.”

“You know, I totally saw you two kissing, right?”

“Emily Vizsla!”

“What? It is not like I am going to scold you or anything,” and with her usual confidence, she swayed away, the cake in her hands.

“Well, you heard her,” he grinned, hands coming up to frame your face again, as he kneeled on the tiles, his lips descending yours, “It is not like she is going to scold us or anything …”

And with that, he kissed you again.

[sirowsky]

The Flowers Always Know

Description: When a mad scientist uses you as an experiment while you’re on holiday, the Heroics only just manage to save you. And in your recovery you become very close to the leader of the group.

(Slow burn)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Language, very near miscarriage.

Link to Masterlist

Comment: I’m sorry that it’s been a little dry lately, I haven’t been in the best groove for writing. But I swear this will be the last chapter centred around the med-section for a good long while. We’re going to war from here on out, people!

To those of you who have stuck with this story all this way - I cannot thank you enough!! I LOVE YOU!!! 

Chapter 33

  “That kid you hurled at the wall? Why would he be working with Prince?”

  “He was completely unbothered with what I’d done to him. I mean, he came out of it fine, but he did die for a moment, you’d think he be a little scared. Young people think of themselves as invincible and I figured he just didn’t get how serious it was. But maybe, he saw me being able to do that as something to aspire to? Maybe the awe I saw in his eyes was ambition. Maybe he wants to be a super, and wants it so much that he doesn’t care if some people get hurt along the way.”

  You were back in Marcus’ office, and he was sitting in one of the sofas while you were pacing, trying to sort out what you’d learned, with an uneasy feeling in your gut.

  “Querida, please stop moving, I’m getting nervous just looking at you.”

  “Then stop looking at me.”

  “Like that’s ever gonna happen.”

  You threw him a smile, but it contorted into a grimace when a sudden and very sharp pain in your lower abdomen forced you to double over.

  “Hermosa! What is it?”

  Marcus was on his feet and next to you in no time at all, catching you from hitting the floor as the pain intensified to the point where your legs gave out and started shaking. Your back was throbbing and your whole pelvis felt like it was being burnt from the inside. It was so intense that you couldn’t breathe normally, only suck in shallow gasps in between volleys of pain. Your stomach turned and you threw your head to the side not to vomit all over Marcus.

  “Talk to me, querida!”

  “Medical… baby…”

  It was all you could push out of your mouth through the gasps and kecks, and the overwhelming pain. It was worse than anything you’d ever felt before.

  You were only partially aware of being scooped up and carried away, but the rocking motion sent fresh arrows laced with acid shooting through you and you screamed in absolute agony.

  At some point you became aware of other hands on your skin, gloved and practised and efficient. And the light in the ceiling changed, to accommodate the need for excellent visibility for the medical staff. You knew that light a little too well, but it also gave you a small sense of comfort, knowing you were in the hands of people that could help you.

  You heard someone say that they needed to sedate you, or they wouldn’t be able to examine you, and you heard Marcus reply something, but he was too far away, and your own screaming was drowning him out. You wanted to reach for him, to hold him close and take comfort in his warmth and mere presence, but your arms were cramped around your abdomen, trying desperately to protect the little life in there.

  Then he was suddenly kissing your cheek, whispering that he’d be there, and that everything would be okay, but that they had to put you to sleep to protect you from the pain. For some reason, that made your powers flare, and a shockwave burst out of you, sending all of them, including Marcus, hurling across the room and into the surrounding walls.

  The staff were unfazed, quickly scrambling to their feet and returning to the task at hand, and only seconds later, you began to feel the heaviness of drug-induced sleep crash over you.

  As the pain lessened, the tears that had relentlessly filled and spilled from your eyes, completely blocking your view, finally calmed and you turned your head towards where you’d last heard Marcus.

  You saw him coming towards you, looking so scared, and you wanted to touch him. But then the drugs overpowered you, and you drooped away into darkness.

  “It’s okay, mi amor. You’re both okay.”

  When you came to, the first thing you were aware of was that Marcus was lying next to you on the bed, cradling you to him. His breathing was calm and even, but he was awake.

  As the drugs wore off more, you became more lucid, and the memories flooded your mind like a tidal-wave.

  Your hands reflexively found your abdomen, and tried in vain to feel if the baby was still there, from the outside.

  His voice and words washed over you and you could finally breathe again. The tears started up again with the relief, and he kissed your forehead and held you tighter while his hand joined both of yours, trying to reassure yourselves that it really was there and really was fine, even though you couldn’t feel it.

  “What happened?”

  He hesitated, and his voice was repeatedly plagued by tremors as he explained.

  “Your pills… Someone messed with them, to try and make you miscarry.”

  “I took two of them…”

  The sentence echoed through your mind over and over, awakening that beast of maternal instinct inside you, forcing the sadness aside to make way for anger, with the realisation that someone within these walls was capable of something so unimaginably cruel.

  But you were also heartbroken at your own failure to realise the risks of trusting anything given to you that had been made inside this building, right now.

  “And if it had been anyone but you, the baby wouldn’t have made it.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You can’t heal yourself, and yet you somehow found a way to turn your ability inwards, to heal the baby, to take back the damage as it was being done by the chemicals. You saved our child, even though it shouldn’t have been possible and even though you were sedated.”

  He sighed and slightly shook his head.

  “I will never be able to express how much I love the bear that lives inside you and makes you the strongest person on this planet.”

  “Well… since I’m never taking another one of those pills again, I guess you’ll get to hear her a lot more in the future.”

  Despite the gravity of the situation, he laughed at that. He needed the positivity more than anything in that moment.

  “Good. I really have missed her.”

  You gave him a minute to just be in that moment of happiness, before bringing him back to all the severity that would accompany the immediate future.

  “Where’s Jack Daven?”

  “They’re looking for him now.”

  “If he had anything to do with this…”

  “I know. I hear you.”

  “I’ve never felt pain like that. It was like it was… shattering my bones and pouring acid into them.”

  “I’ve seen you in pain before, and this was different. The way you screamed… I’ll be able to hear that inside my head for as long as I live.”

  “I’m sorry you had to hear that.”

  “This has gone too far, hermosa. It needs to stop, we can’t keep being in this situation where the fucking med-section is more home to us than anything else.”

  “I know. Hey, did you ever get around to calling that realtor?”

  “Really? That’s what you wanna talk about right now?”

  “I need to talk about something to keep my mind off of how stupid I feel.”

  “Why the hell would you feel stupid?”

  “I should have known not to trust anyone, including the people who make those fucking pills. It never even occurred to me that someone could use them to hurt me. A dozen people have access to them during production, it wouldn’t have been that hard to fiddle with a batch. You were right, I haven’t been careful enough. I’m so sorry.”

  “Oh, mi corazón… None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever think that.”

  You did, and you would, probably for a very long time.

  “Where’s Missy?”

  “With mom. They came to see you earlier, and I explained everything. We agreed that it’s probably best to keep her away from here for now, in case someone decides to try and use her against us. If our enemy’s capable of this, then they’re capable of anything. So, they’re gonna stay away until we’ve solved this. I promised Missy that you’d call as soon as you could, she was really scared for you both.”

  “Yeah, of course. I feel better knowing she’s safe, far away from here.”

  “And, yes, I did call the realtor. He could fit us in on Friday, if we wanted.”

  “That’s good. I feel like we might need to do something normal if we’re gonna be able to keep our heads through all of this.”

  “I know what you mean.”

  “Um, just one thing, though…”

  “Yeah?”

  “What’s today?”

  He cracked a genuine smile with the realisation that some things just never changed.

  “It’s Tuesday, hermosa.”

  “I swear, one of these days, I’m gonna get it right.”

  That made him laugh in earnest, and the sound was the best medication you could have asked for. It made you feel at home, even though you were once again tethered to machines and feeling exhausted.

  “Hi, Mama Bear. Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of you.”

  Marcus stopped laughing, and a kind of delighted shock spread across his face when your stomach suddenly growled loudly.

  He repositioned himself so that he could kiss it on top of the covers, and then rested his ear against it while he smiled happily.

  But then a really depressing thought occurred to you.

  “Marcus… we can’t eat from the restaurant any more. As much as I think we can trust Greg, other people have access to the kitchen.”

  That did nothing to deter his growing good mood.

  “Screw it – I’ll cook.”

  “All my six-to-eight portions per meal, every day? Honey, you won’t have time to do anything else.”

  At that moment, the twins walked in for their evening rounds.

  “Ah, you’re awake. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

  “Good, but hungry. Which is a bit of problem, right now.”

  But Marcus was already coming up with a solution.

  “Claire, you have three kids, you’re used to cooking for lots of people, right?”

  He was looking at the twin to the right, and she responded right away.

  “Yeah, sure. Are you thinking you’re gonna boycott the restaurant?”

  “Would you feel up to helping me? I need to be able to help her with other things too.”

  “Of course I would. Anything to prevent something like this shit from happening again. Also, cooking on the clock is so much more fun.”

  “Thank you so much. Our list of trusted individuals is extremely short at the moment.”

  Hold the god damned phone!

  “Marcus, how the hell do you do that?!”

  “Hermosa?”

  “How the fuck did you know that that’s Claire?! It’s driving me insane!”

  He chuckled and held up his hands.

  “Electromagnetism, remember. All humans have their own unique electric signature.”

  “Wha… So, you really have been able to tell them apart this whole time?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, that’s just unfair!”

  All three of them just laughed at you before Claire turned to Amanda.

  “Looks like she’s okay, so why don’t we get started on that cooking?”

  “We? He asked you.”

  “And I’m roping you in. Come on. Starving mother over there.”

  “Right.”

  They left and Marcus used his powers to dim the lights, so that he didn’t have to get out of bed. But he stayed fully dressed and on top of the covers, which suddenly really irritated you.

  “Am I on some sort of ‘no touch’ rule with you that I don’t know about?”

  “Huh?”

  You just gestured to his state of dress with your eyebrows raised.

  “Oh. No, not at all.”

  You pushed your eyebrows even further up.

  “You’re not! I’m just… worried.”

  “I’m not asking for sex, Marcus, that would be seriously unwise after almost miscarrying. I’m just asking to be allowed to be close to you again. You’ve kept me at arms-length ever since the incident at the house, and it’s making me feel like I’ve done something terrible to create some sort of precipice between us that you won’t let me…”

  He cut you off by kissing you, warmly, but not heatedly.

  “You’ve done nothing wrong, mi amor. I’m just scared. Scared of draining you, scared of losing you, scared of how badly I need you, every part of you, to the point where I don’t function without you. But there’s no precipice. You’re always allowed to be close to me, if you reach for me, I’ll always welcome you.”

  “Then consider this me reaching for you: Get your ass under these covers and hold me properly.”

  “Don’t worry, mama, it’s coming. Just rest for now.”

  He stepped out of bed and took off all his clothes, except his underwear, before returning to you. You turned on your side, careful to keep the wires that were attached to you from getting tangled or coming lose, and he wrapped his arms around you and tugged you snugly into him. Since the gown was open at the back, you could feel his skin against yours, and it calmed every nerve inside your body better than anything else ever could.

  A tiny current spread along your skin, and he hummed into your neck as the same kind of serenity coursed through him as well.

  Your stomach made an unhappy noise, and his hand came to rub gently at it while he whispered in your ear.

  “Marcus.”

  You’d forgotten to call Missy, but the twins would be back before midnight with food, and you’d have to get up and eat, so you decided to call her then. Right now, you were too tired, and feeling entirely too good, to move a single muscle.

  But, just as sleep was beginning to pull you down, a thought popped into your head, and you couldn’t understand how it hadn’t occurred to you before.

  “Mmm.”

  “What if it’s a whole network?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean… The more I think about what Prince said, the more I fear that this is so much worse than just a few people within HQ. He made it sound like there was a network, an organisation to this madness. ‘I don’t think you realise just how many people in this world are interested in levelling the playing-field.’ That’s what he said. Someone got him out of prison without raising any alarms, got him his equipment and my files and… I’m beginning to think that he was working with the Inventor all along. That your capture, and the way those cages were designed to effectively steal your powers, were too similar to Prince’s work. There are too many coincidences, there has to be some connection. And we can’t fight something like that. Especially when we don’t know who might be sympathisers.”

  “Fuck. This is making so much more sense than I’d like to admit.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  He was quiet for a minute, subconsciously holding you tighter, while his mind worked the problem.

  “If we’re facing an organisation, the only hope we have, is to build one of our own. To equal the strength and cunning we’re facing.”

  “But how do we do that when we don’t know who to trust?”

  “We reveal the ace up our sleeve.”

  “I didn’t know we had one…”

  “We do. It’s just… kinda far up that sleeve.”

  “What is it?”

  “Verity.”

 Authors’ Note: I love criticism, please don’t be shy to let me know if there’s anything you like/don’t like/have questions about.

@blueeyesatnight​

@farfromjustordinary

@allmyspideys

@hrk-fic-recs

@strawberryperegrine

@lucrezia-thoughts

@computeringturtle

@sarahjkl82-blog

[inkykeiji]

IM SCREAMING, CAN WE PLS GET A LIL SNIPPET OF BREAK MY BONES PT 2 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺

hehe if you want to, but just know i will be waiting so excitedly for the posting day, i ADORE the series you’ve created 🥺🥺🥺🥺

ehehe thank you so much!!! <33333 my plan is to get it out either extremely late tomorrow night, or sometime on tuesday. but i’m really really reaaally trying for tomorrow.

YES U CAN since it’s gonna be published so soon anyway <33 the snippet is just over 700 words.

The first day goes fine, for the most part. It’s a Friday, and you’re cranky from waking up so early, Dabi refusing to sympathize with you, because it’s your own fault, brat. You only have one class on Friday, early in the afternoon, and you practically demand a nap the moment you arrive home.

It’ll fuck up your sleep schedule, Dabi tries to reason with you, tries to keep his tone stern.

But you look so exhausted, eyelids drooping a little as you sway on your feet, brattiness fading into gentleness, voice tender and quiet as you plead with him.

“Please, Dabi?” you slur your words a little, looking at him with glazed eyes and a soft pout. “Jus for a lil? M’so tired,”

He shouldn’t. Tomura wouldn’t. But…

But he supposes you didn’t get much sleep last night, if the dark purple blotches that mar your neck and collarbone are any indicator to go off of, knows you were up early this morning to see Tomura off, and that anxiety kept you from falling back asleep after he had left, despite Dabi’s slender fingers combing through your hair—something that normally calms you almost instantaneously, he’s come to learn.

“Please?” you whimper, gazing up at him and blinking twice, slowly.

God, how does Tomura resist you when you’re like this? How does he not give in, not give you any and everything you ask for the moment you ask for it?

“Fine,” he says weakly, looking away from your stare with a huff, disgusted in his own pathetic resolve. “Only for an hour, though,”

“An hour and a half,”

“Forty-five minutes, if you keep pushing, brat,” he warns and you squeak in response, nodding quickly.

Dabi seems to be more at ease as he collapses heavily on the couch, just a tad more relaxed than he normally is in the penthouse, and you wonder if it’s because Tomura won’t come barreling through the door at any given moment, but decide it best not to ask; the last thing you want to do is ruin this rare mood.

Instead, you take advantage of it.

He expects you to go curl up in Tomura’s stupidly massive bed, expects that you’ll be a brat anyway and purposefully not set your alarm, expects that he’ll have to quite literally drag you out from under the fluffy comforter in an hour, when your nap is over.

He does not expect you to curl up next to him, shuffling around on the couch until you’ve got your head in his lap, turning a little to look up at him.

“Is it okay if I nap here? With you?”

And it’s the way you ask—in a soft, tiny voice, looking up at him sleepily, eyes almost glittering in the late afternoon sun—that has him suffocating on his words, coughing a little and clearing his throat as he steels his expression.

At this point, he’s stopped trying to trick himself into believing that he’d ever actually be able to deny you, too.

“When has it not been, dumbass?” he tries to keep his voice strong and steady, attempts to keep it ridden with annoyance and irritation, which he fails miserably at, the insult escaping his lips almost endearingly.

Humming a little in agreement, you smirk up at him before turning on your side again, cuddled up to his thigh.  

“Wake me in an hour, yeah?”

“You know I will,”

He’s become much more comfortable with casual skinship since he’s been forced to spend what feels like every waking moment with you—no longer flinches when you flop your head in his lap, getting comfy as you nuzzle your cheek into his thigh, tiny hand resting just above his knee; no longer goes rigid when you snuggle into his side, burrowing your way into a comfy position, pressed flush against him; no longer freezes up when you collapse on the other end of the couch, slouching down across it and throwing your legs haphazardly over his as you idly scroll through your phone.

Desperately, he tries not to think about that small string of drool dribbling steadily from the corner of your mouth, sticky and hot on his thigh as it pools, soaking through his jeans. He tries not to think about just how much you’re drooling, if you’d drool like that when you’re awake, too, while he fucks your throat raw.

[bard-llama]

WiP List

This is gonna be looooong (like, REALLY long), so I’mma go ahead and give you a cut here. But if you’re interested in what i’m working on, take a look!

Order purely based on the order my tabs are in. I’m only counting WiPs that actually have more than a paragraph written, because if I didn’t, this list would be even longer. Also, pls don’t judge me but what I name my WiPs 😂

Post-Coital Smoke

Kinda what it sounds like tbh. I just wanted Iorveth getting high and admiring Roche’s body and then Roche decided to be a tease. At some point, I assume there will be sex.

Angst: Sex object Roche

Iorveth’s POV of realizing that Roche hurts himself whenever he flirts at Iorveth. Premise is that Roche has been groomed (intentionally or not) by Foltest to be his. So when he feels attraction towards Iorveth, he needs to be punished. And obviously Iorveth helps him learn that no, that’s not okay and idk recovery???

Midwinter Feast

This idea was 100% spawned by me trying to write holiday fics, but Foltest hosts a Midwinter Feast where they close the city for 12 days, leaving Roche to get along with the Nonhuman/Scoia’tael(ish) delegation during that time. Also, Foltest might be using the feast as a delaying tactic to resupply his army. I legit have no idea where this is going, I just thought the idea of Roche and Iorveth stuck at a feast for 12 days was funny.

Solstice Feast aka To Birth a Verdant Future

This was actually an xmas gift for @lutes-and-dandelions, but I havent finished it yet 😓 But the premise is similar to the former in that it’s another solstice feast. But it’s set post-W3 with Emhyr as Emperor throwing a party in the new conquered capital of Vizima. Roche broods a lot about Foltest’s memory and how he hates Emhyr and decides to distract himself by hanging out with Iorveth and suggesting they follow an old elven tradition. And that’s all I’ll say. XD

Next Year (Solstice Feast sequel)

Literally set the next year. This time they merge their lives by merging their people’s traditions.

Lily Preserved in Amber

Okay, haven’t gotten very far in this, but I decided it was an elven rite of passage to go searching through the forest for a sign of your future. And Iorveth finds a piece of amber with a lily preserved inside. I haven’t decided if it purely means Roche or if it means his whole family with Roche and Boussy and Anais and all. So far, he hasn’t even found the amber yet lmao. But he did just discover music!

Character taking control of the other and Character B just letting go and enjoying themselves

Under the subheading “Porn Snips”, so uh, yeah. Starts with Roche and Iorveth fighting to decide who gets to top, involves Roche getting choked, and Iorveth ripping Roche’s pants off. Oh, also, they’re currently at a fancy party hiding somewhere in the garden lmao

Based on @moonlights-ordinance‘s art

Moonlight’s working on an adorable piece where Roche leans his forehead against Iorveth’s back between his shoulderblades. I decided to make it post-W3 with both of them working as paper pushers/administrators under Emhyr’s Temeria. And Nilfgaard does not believe in chairs with backs (or, really, Emhyr wanted to see how long Roche’s pride would make him suffer. It’s a long time). The idea is to show development over time as they slowly get more comfortable with touch and start using each other as backrests. And then the sweet scene Moonlight is drawing.

Eliza for @useless-empty-brain aka Can’t We All Just Get Oolong?

Next is Iorveth’s POV, but I legit cannot figure out where to start. But we’re gonna see some of his thoughts (like how Eliza volunteered him to stay in Vizima for an unspecified period of time and he said yes even though he can’t and now has to commute regularly because he doesn’t want to miss tea with Roche but also doesn’t want Roche’s spies to catch on lmao) and his curiosity about Roche and Foltest and what Roche’s mission is (which I... totally know.)

Roche’s Scars

@moonlights-ordinance sent me a great pic of a mod for Roche where he had some pretty vicious scarring/mutilation. So of course I decided I needed to tell the story of each one. But really, it’s a story about the stages of acceptance with scars. Both Iorveth and Roche start out hiding theirs, but eventually come to reveal them comfortably in public.

Vernon Roche of the Scoia’tael aka The Value of a Man

Does my title give it away? Oops? So, this is a found family fic where Roche is captured by the Scoia’tael and the elves and dwarves slowly come to see him as - well, I was gonna say human, but as a person, I guess. And start feeling really, really guilty, especially when some not great things happen to Roche. 

Oh also, Foltest is a giant dick and uh, SPOILERS he does not try to get Roche back. Which leads to a whole subplot that will end with a found family for EVERYONE, because they all deserve to be happy dammit.

All of that was just one document lmao. I have 24 documents, some of which have quite a few WiPs in them. 😱

Kiss Prompts

24. Deep kisses where they have their hands tangled in each other’s hair to pull them closer. AKA How to Fluster an Elf

When I got the idea for How to Fluster an Elf, I decided it was gonna fill the prompt dammit. And then it really, really expanded on me.

33. An unexpected kiss that shocks the one receiving it.

Roche dreams occasionally that Iorveth visits him and watches over him and sometimes speaks, but he can’t understand Elder Speech, so he assumes it’s all gibberish.

Then he finds out it’s not and suddenly he’s not so certain it’s a dream

16. One person pouting, only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person.

Okay, I literally just need to buckle down and write some good kissing. This is set in (Im)Perfect Strangers and Iorveth is pouting about them leaving the gardens, so Roche makes it up to him.

25. Wet kisses after finding refuge from the rain.

This one won’t actually be published with the kisses ‘cause it’s porn and the rest are T-rated lol. Buuuut Roche and Iorveth are trying to have a secret liaison in the forest when the rain starts. Featuring nature magic, tentacles, and Iorveth getting filled.

Scenes from Another World (aka AU premise)

Old Men in Vergen

Set during Witcher 3, but with an established relationship. Roche comes to visit Iorveth in Vergen to ask for advice on leading an insurgency. Iorveth just wants to feed Roche while he can now that he’s not the one starving in the woods.

Language Aphasia/Deal with the Devil

I wanted to write Gaunter! So I decided that Gaunter is in a mood for some mischief (he calls it being generous) and comes upon a traveling Vernon Roche who wishes that he could be understand Iorveth. Then Iorveth’s Scoia’tael find a passed out Roche in the woods and bring him to Iorveth for judgement. Only somehow, Roche only understands Elder Speech now. He can’t understand Common at all. The Scoia’tael find this very offensive and Iorveth is mostly freaked out that someone who can do THAT was wandering around his forest.

Bunk Beds: The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon

Based on a silly comic, Ciri convinces Iorveth and Roche to try to help her destroy the portrait. Geralt gets pissed and sends them to Bunk Bed Exile. Shenanigans ensue and somehow they start to get along.

Iorveth’s Scoia’tael Giving Him Shit For His Taste in Men aka The Lovestruck Fox

Right now, working on a piece from the POV of a new Scoia’tael recruit who is discovering that Iorveth’s Scoia’tael roast the fuck out of him over his crush on Roche. 

Speaking of, anyone have suggestions on prime roast material? I am not this creative.

Let’s Torture Roche!

No, really. This one is pretty dark. And told in kind of a different style than my usual, because I felt like it. So, premise is that Iorveth and Roche were a thing in the past, but then Roche was recalled to Foltest’s side and he went. So Iorveth is understandably pretty hurt and pissed (this was decided for a prompt of someone breaking down as soon as they’re behind closed doors). Buuut what he doesn’t know is that Roche is not with Foltest of his own volition. Hostages, blackmail, and torture are all involved and Foltest is a pretty horrible guy. But of course we need a happy ending, so eventually, Iorveth will rescue Roche and they get to recover together.

Life Debt aka Iorveth is an Asshole

The concept for this was that Roche saved Iorveth’s life and now that they were no longer enemies (set during Witcher 3), his honor demands that he follow Roche around until he can repay the favor. Featuring Iorveth being a trolling asshole, correcting the new Temerian Loyalist’s fighting abilities, and Roche being very, very tired. 

In application, it’s mostly angst so far, ‘cause I had to set up HOW Roche saved Iorveth’s life. And then I decided to really hurt Iorveth. But tbh I will probably skip ahead after establishing this stuff, because I just want shenanigans.

King and Country

I’ve got several WiPs for this one, including the Stripes’ recruitment, their decision to change sides, the Stripes being double agents, and of course, Iorveth and Roche’s developing relationship. But hey, I’ve skipped ahead to writing their wedding already, so... you know it ends happily ever after?

Friday Fight Night for Jan 29 (which I did not make oops)

So, this actually turned into a long piece that’s gonna be part of my Chronic Pain series. Basically, King Foltest is treating with the leaders of the Scoia’tael in Temeria and Iorveth is one of them. Unfortunately, he’s having a REALLY BAD pain day, but he’s also determined to be there to represent his people. Roche helps him see sense. Possibly forcefully.

Exhaustion Prompts

“If we’re both in this state, we both really screwed up somewhere huh?”

Iorveth and Roche are trapped in a dream and I got a little stuck creating the creature that trapped them there. But pretty sure Saskia is gonna interrupt their flirting by saving them.

“You were almost dead from pushing it too far!”

In which Roche has a heart attack from too much coffee. Yeah. He’s okay, though! But PT is about to blow a gasket and coffee will very much be disallowed.

Found Family Prompts

Taking Out the Trash for @useless-empty-brain

Literally a story about taking out the trash lmao. We’re gonna see if I can make this intersting.

Touch Starved for @mochii-girl

Honestly, haven’t gotten much done on this yet, but I’m thinking puppy pile cuddles in Corvo Bianco

Coffeeshop AU aka Brewing Romance and Dissent

Ooof I’ve got a lot of bits and pieces of this written, but nothing quite finished, except for the moment when things change from “we flirt as I order coffee” to “I make you special drinks and invite you to come visit me after hours”. Writing a canon coffeeshop au when I know shit all about coffee is HARD.

Curse Breaking

Omg this is one of the first WiPs I started for Iorveth/Roche, no joke. STILL WORKING ON IT! The premise is that Roche finds a feverish and dying Iorveth in an empty Scoia’tael camp, saves him with the power of True Love’s Kiss The Power of Strong Emotions, Like That Which You Might Have For Your Enemy. Then they team up to go save Iorveth’s Scoia’tael from a big bad mage and Roche invites Triss along for the ride, which totally doesn’t make Iorveth jealous. I kinda stalled out at the part where they reach the mage’s hideout and see the results of the mages failed experiments. On Iorveth’s people. It’s gonna hurt. A lot. But afterwards, there might be makeouts. And some sort of implication that they’re all down to do this (minus the horrible, traumatic parts) again.

Roche POV bloodplay

Roche’s POV starting from before his first encounter with Iorveth. Then he has a weirdly sexually arousing encounter with the elf, and tbh, that’s as far as I got. But Iorveth draws blood from Roche’s neck, presses his thumb to it, and then licks it off his thumb. Next, Iorveth was gonna be the one getting Uncomfortably Aroused, but I haven’t gotten that far. No idea where this is going overall.

Iorveth Investigates Roche

This kinda isn’t a real WiP in that idk if I’ll ever finish it. I mostly started it to do some worldbuilding about what public information there would be about Roche. 

Voyeurism AKA Eye on You

Yeah, I don’t have much for the next chapter yet, tbh. So premise is that Iorveth accidentally ends up watching Roche get off at the brothel and finds it really, really hot. Hot enough to get curious and go back for more. Next one is going to involve thigh fucking and Iorveth might possibly get pegged by Daph??? idk

Fake Relationship

Poor @lutes-and-dandelions has been waiting forever for this one and I can’t even find a place to end the scene and post what I have so far. Premise is that Iorveth and Roche are both investigating their missing men and the trail takes them to the Murivel Resort for Couples. So they go undercover. Featuring Roche’s POV of being doubtful, Iorveth using the excuse to flirt outrageously, strip gwent, and a magic amulet that hids Iorveth’s scar and that Roche hates.

Competitive Makeouts AKA The Chase

This was kissing practice and it turned into a casefic! Which is awesome because I love casefics even though I haven’t published any yet. So in this one, as Iorveth and Roche sneak off to makeout, they also end up investigating a conspiracy in the Temerian military. 

Iorveth/Roche(/Kayran) + Roche/Foltest aka Every Kiss Begins with Kayran

In which Roche accidentally walks in on Iorveth’s monthly fuck date with the Kayran and gets invited to join in. Then, somehow,  it starts to turn into a relationship. With an elf and a tentacle monster. And yet, somehow, this relationship is healthier than the one with Foltest. The contrast opens Roche’s eyes.

Pining and Poignards

In which Iorveth stabs Roche with his favorite knife and wants it back and is also maybe pining a lil bit. Meanwhile Roche is rather pissed, but also curious and begins to teach himself Elder Speech to try to read the inscription on Iorveth’s knife. I stalled out in the scene where Iorveth accidentally watches Roche masturbate in the bath.

Iorveth tittyfucking Roche

Look, it’s what it says on the tin. Roche’s POV of Iorveth’s fascination with his chest and how it makes him feel and then there is sex.

Dirty Gremlin Man

Iorveth gets off on Roche being a sweaty, stinky human. Roche pins Iorveth in a fight and Iorveth gets very distracted watching a drop of sweat trail down Roche’s face. So distracted, in fact, that he doesn’t think twice before stretching out his neck and licking it. Then, of course, he remembers where he is. Featuring a very confused Roche, a smidge of jealousy, and Iorveth stealing Roche’s sweaty clothing to do unspeakable things to it. And somehow they get together.

Want me to sit in your lap?

Geralt LEGIT says this to Roche like 5 mins into the Witcher 2 and it’s GREAT. So of course, I had to write a scene where he actually got to. This is set post Witcher 2 while Geralt, Triss, Roche, and Ves are headed back to Temeria. Triss offers Geralt a little stress relief - which involves warming Roche’s cock and watching Triss and Ves get to know one another.

Red is the Rose

So, Chapter 4 is set post-Witcher 2 and Iorveth is obsessing over the fact that the Rose of Remembrance still has not wilted. He wonders what might be possible, so when he hears a rumor that a certain Temerian Commander was taken captive by Dethmold...

Dethmold most definitely dies. But unfortunately, that doesn’t save Roche from the curses he cast. So they go looking for Geralt to find out how to fix it.

This has only been 9 of my documents, y’all. I think I have a problem.

De-Aged Fic aka The language of friendship is not words but meanings

Ugh, I lost my momentum on this one, which sucks, ‘cause the next chapter is so close to done. Iorveth just needs to do a little freaking out first. But then they will both be back to adults and have to DEAL with the fact that they made good friends and would kinda like that again. I think this fic is gonna be purely friendship for them, but they’re gonna get there.

Glory Hole

A fic for the @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo where Roche hears a rumor that some Scoia’tael go to this brothel on the outskirts of town and hey, he may as well check it out, right? By going undercover and working the glory hole, of course. He never ACTUALLY expected Iorveth would come, but his legendary mouth was enticing enough to draw the Scoia’tael commander out.

Snuggling

Thirteen “accidentally” handcuffs Iorveth and Roche together when they capture Iorveth. This leads to them lying on the cot in the Stripes’ holding cell, spooning. There is banter and tickling and escapes not attempted and also maybe some sex with Inexperience Iorveth (i say maybe because I already started the sex, but idk if it will fit in). 

Petals and Stripes

A weed is but an unloved flower

Okay, the Stripes are going to attempt to woo Iorveth during a battle. Also, there is a stabbing. And then a kidnapping. And then, miracle of miracles, someone actually tries talking!

One person's weed is another person's wildflower

Ves’s POV! She cleans up the mess her idiots make and terrifies the life out of one elven suitor, but first she’s gotta deal with her own conflicted feelings about her Boss, the guy she relies on to show her the shades of grey in the world, loving the elf she’s supposed to kill. 

After that, I’ve got 2 more fics planned in this ‘verse. One is gonna be a fluffy and/or sexy date after Iorveth and Roche have gotten together. The other is a Scoia’tael side story, featuring lots of gossip about the humans sending their Commander love letters.

Love Shack

The Better Part of Valor

Ugh, I’m stuck on the sex again. Roche is having a really shitty day, so he goes to the cabin and signals Iorveth that he wants a round. Iorveth offers gentle (for them) sex and praise. And at the end, there’s a very significant scene where Iorveth removes his bandana. Roche buries his fingers in Iorveth’s hair, but doesn’t actually see his face, as he’s laying on his stomach with Iorveth on top of him.

Medicine

The morning after! Roche wakes up to find Iorveth in the bath, facing away from him, and notices a new scar. Iorveth has to deal with actually revealing his scars in daylight and they discuss the significant differences in elven and human medicine. Hint: I turned my own medical procedures into elven medicine, so it’s pretty fucking good.

PWP Ovi

Set ambiguously late, maybe after Thou Art More Lovely and More Temperate. Iorveth and Roche explore what Roche can take. We start with overstimulation, go into consensual somnophilia, come inflation, breeding kink, and oviposition. Because elves reproduce by laying eggs, which is not at all the case purely because I started this WiP ages ago and was horny.

The Picture Says It All

There’s going to be 5 more pictures that Rinn draws for Iorveth. Next is Roche hard at work, hunched over a desk. Then we’re getting some shirtless Roche, for “research”, of course. Then Roche cuddling with PT and the rest of the team, about which Iorveth is not at all jealous. Then a face study of Roche during a fight and uh, Iorveth is uncomfortably turned on. And finally, a drawing of their cabin with a silhouette in the window. She knows.

Roche & Rinn: The Haunting of Barrack 8B

Oh man, I really want to finish the next chapter, because I already have the one after that done. But first, we get introduced to Adda! This ‘verse is going to feature Adda the White a lot more than any of my others have done so far and I’m very excited. Also, Silas continues to be terrified of the ghost and the ghost and Adda become girlfriends buddies.

Roche builds Iorveth a home

Set late in the ‘verse, after Roche knows his feelings, but they haven’t said them yet (not out loud, anyway). Iorveth takes a trip to go meet Saskia do things off screen and Roche ends up turning to his old hobby, carpentry, to keep himself from pining too obviously. So obviously he ends up builing Iorveth a solarium. And a pillow nest. And a scaffold so that flowers that blossom in the moonlight cover the glass and give them privacy.

I got stuck here because Rinn needs to give Roche a hint to get him to build the pillow nest, but I hadn’t developed Rinn and Roche’s relationship yet, so had to go back and do that. But eventually Iorveth returns and they have wonderful I’m-not-saying-it-but-i-love-you sex in the new pillow nest.

Foltest (WiP): Long Live the King

This is actually the last fic in the ‘verse, so I don’t want to give too much away. But actually, I haven’t figured out what the next chapter is, BUT I have the chapter after that started and it is GOOD, just you wait!! I’m very excited.

Don’t Cry For Me, Temeria

This ‘verse alone, I have 14 WiPs and a dozen more unwritten ideas.

(Im)Perfect Strangers

I am frustratingly stuck on this chapter. Theoreatically, we are going to have a check in on how the mountain and the rest of our cast is doing and then Roche launches his Wooing TM plan (aka dinner, gift, and dancing).

Between Two Fools

Yeah, Roche and Iorveth have very different understandings of what their gifts represent. There is some soft happiness and then a swift rug pulled out from under Iorveth’s feet, I’m afraid. BUT we are almost to the part where the two idiots sit down and actually talk properly.

Unlucky Number Thirteen

Not only do I have more of Thirteen’s story planned, but I have ideas for ALL the Stripes to have stories. We’ll see how that goes. But for now, Thirteen starts spying for Roche. A lot of still-nebulous stuff happens, including Thirteen’s first time, for which he asks Roche to help. Additionally, once we reach the (Im)Perfect Strangers timeline, Thirteen has a special story all his own. It involves learning to read and a secret I shall not yet reveal.

Silas

Like I said, all the Stripes are hopefully getting stories. But Silas’s is coming along nicely. He starts a new life as “Silas”, as a man, and joins the army. Boot camp is rough and awful and he’s not very good at any of it, but one day, Roche comes looking for a recruit. He needs a codebreaker to decipher Thirteen’s scouting reports (another one for pictures). So Silas joins the Stripes, but he’s still terrified that they’ll fnd out and think he’s been lying to them. Fortunately, they’ll be putting his fears to rest.

Stripes Sex aka Earning Your Stripes: The First Time

PT’s POV! The Stripes (pre-Silas) are all still getting comfortable with each other as a team. But Thirteen has known Roche the longest and in a specific capacity. So one evening when he needs to get out of his head, Thirteen asks Roche to dom him. PT is confused and scandalized and then jealous, but he gets to join in soon too. Meanwhile, Finch and Ves have fun with their bratty arsonist and Fenn is loving it.

break (v /brāk/): to destroy someone's resistance

This is very long and entirely build up to porn. And then lots of porn. A question during a random conversation leads Roche to make Iorveth ask him to take Iorveth utterly apart in a consensual non-consent fantasy set when they were still enemies in the forest.

Bath House

This was supposed to be a simple PWP where Roche talks dirty to Iorveth under his breath while the two of them are at the bathhouse with Boussy (who LOVES baths and brought them to the fancy bath house), Anais, and Thirteen (who HATE baths and react to water much like a cat). They kinda took over the story and there has been no dirty talk yet oops.

Iorveth POV: Tutti

Iorveth begins to reclaim his love for music and lets himself improvise and compose again. And he ends up writing a song that is the story of his and Roche’s romance.

Daggers, Dumplings, and Dresses

The Elihal/Hattori side story! Though we haven’t actually met Hattori yet. So far, Elihal is expounding on his past and his relationship with Iorveth (he used to make all of Iorveth’s fancy gowns for concerts). Elihal and Hattori won’t play a HUGE role in (Im)Perfect Strangers, but they will be appearing!

Ves and Ciaran aka The First Rule of Fight Club

Ves is stuck walking a very long way back to Vergen with the memory of Ciaran’s skin against her teeth. And even though elves lie like breathing, she can’t help thinking about what he said about Roche not being worth her loyalty. Slowly, she begins to work some things out.

Sex with Saskia/Dragonfucking

Yeah, it’s what it sounds like. Iorveth tells Roche that Saskia agreed to a threesome and where to meet, but he neglected to mention the rather large dragon that was currently rimming his ass. Roche gets distracted from his confusion by the hotness and watches Iorveth get fucked by a dragon (with 2 dicks to fit 2 holes, of course).

Come Inflation + Piss Play

Um. Yeah, it’s a PWP where Roche asks Triss for a potion that will make him come a lot. And then Iorveth wants more. No idea where it’s going, tbh.

Stripes vs Scoia’tael: Water Balloon Fight

Literally a water balloon fight. For morale.

Baby Mama

Uh, the title is a bit telling here oops. But let’s just say Iorveth and Roche go on vacation to the cabin on top of the mountain again when Iorveth is hit with the sudden extreme urge to breed. Roche is down, but at some point, they do actually need to talk.

King Roche aka fics where Roche is in charge and hates it. Some are more in line with this than others.

Post W3 Becoming Terrorists Together

Ah yes, the murder husbands fic. Literally, Roche gets stuck leading Temeria under Emhyr’s orders and he’s good at it, but he HATES it. Enter Iorveth, who both points out security flaws, joins Roche for a surprisingly unawkward bath, and proposes that they go hunting down war criminals on their own time. How can Roche say no?

Pre-W2 Ambassadorial AU

Different first meeting AU! In this one, Iorveth is sent as the elven ambassador to Temeria and it’s about as much fun as one might expect. Triss and Roche, the other outcasts amongst Temerian court, decide to befriend him. Well, try to anyway. idk where this is going, but it’s been fun. Also, Iorveth wears a fancy braid over his eye, because I said so. Also, I might be planning an OT3 porn scene at some point, because it turns out, elves are VERY sensitive to magic XD

Leap of Faith

Okay, yeah, this has nothing to do with King Roche, but it’s the doc I was working in when I got the idea. In this one, a mage captures Iorveth for Foltest and starts torturing him. Roche, without really thinking about it, decides the mage goes too far, so he kills them. Leaving him with an elven prisoner and a castle full of people who will consider him a traitor for that. They escape the city, but now Iorveth has gotta convince Roche that no, the King really won’t forget that whole murder and prisoner escape thing. 

The whole point of this fic was for me to write them jumping off a cliff lmao. When am I gonna get to that? Probably like last or second to last chapter, tbh. Which should be... after the next one? No, I lied, it’s next chapter! I need to get on that!

An ill-favour’d thing, sir, but mine own aka Possessive Sex

Piss Fic

Um. Yeah. Roche is really horny when Iorveth gets home and is on him immediately, which is great, but Iorveth has gotta piss. Which becomes less urgent as Roche is determined to have his face fucks, but after he comes all over Roche’s face, it’s VERY urgent and Roche is a fucking brat and won’t move out of the way. So obviously the response to this is to piss on Roche’s crotch - which Roche is apparently more than okay with.

Cum Dumpster Roche

Yeah, this one doesn’t have much yet, I literally just wanted Roche getting railed and claimed and L O V I N G it. 

Possessiveness

Iorveth spends a lot of time thinking about his enemy, his nemesis. He’s researched Roche extensively, spent hours thinking up tactics and strategies to outwit his nemesis. He literally knows what Roche named his stupid weapons, but he’s never actually met Roche.

But he’s dreamt about it. The Roche in reality doesn’t look like the assumptions he made in his dreams, but who cares about looks? Because Roche is his, and certainly not some dh’oine king’s.

Tentacles + Breeding

Gods, this one is SO CLOSE to being done dammit, I just gotta finish it!! But it’s a fun one. Iorveth and Roche are fighting, when Iorveth suddenly starts fighting plants, which are fighting back. Then the plants notice Roche and suddenly he’s tied up with vines and his clothes are getting torn off and uh, he’s not supposed to find this hot, is he? But he really kinda does. And then Iorveth goes and claims him and tries to protect him from a nearly-extinct non-sentient plant that sensed a warm spot to lay its eggs until someone else could come along and fertilize them. Iorveth is delighted to be that person.

Dream: Pleasure Slave

Yeah, Roche really likes getting claimed in these. In this one, he has a favorite dream setting where Iorveth rules some grand elven kingdom and Roche’s only role is to bring him pleasure. Not to deal with politics or nobles or policy, but just to make Iorveth feel good. So far, this features cock warming, come inflation, a leather cock cage (so to speak), prostate milking, and a very nice silver chalice that Iorveth expects Roche to fill before they’re done.

Roche wears a collar

This was gonna be a simple lil thing based on me creating Roche in heroforge and giving him a lil hidden collar. But then Iorveth decided to get really sappy and had to design and create the perfect collar for his enemy. And then, much to his surprise, he gets the opportunity to PUT his collar on Roche. Which is great, except the sight distracts him so much that Roche manages to escape.

But the next time they meet, Roche is still wearing that collar, hidden under his chaperon and armor. Iorveth has feelings about that.

Standalone

Crones fic aka And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

So this is the angsty fic that started from a crack premise. Er, one of them. I seem to do that a lot. But in this one, Roche goes to the Ladies of the Woods and asks for his men back. The Ladies agree, in exchange for 6 lifetimes of service. But no creature can reverse death. Which leads to the Stripes coming back to “life” as ghosts - only Roche is the only one who can see them. Ves can’t (not at first). 

Believe it or not, the whole idea behind this was the Stripes roasting Roche as he tries to flirt (terribly) with Iorveth. But uh... somehow it turned pretty dark. Like, it’ll have a happy ending for sure, but it’s gonna be a lot about processing trauma and grief and building families and also curing a plague, because that’s the first assignment from the Ladies.

Stripes fics

Cuddles with the Commander

This is intended to be a sequel to The Pride of Temeria, but I kinda got stuck figuring out exactly how Roche should react. Tbh, I don’t have much of this written yet, but the goal is for Roche to approve cuddles with everyone lmao.

Fire Breating

Okay, this one started as crack purely because I love fire, but it’s actually been really fun. So, Iorveth and Roche are established and Iorveth has been invited to a family night with the Stripes, which is kinda a lil awkward. So they decide to showcase some of their talents - which includes Roche singing musicals and PT breathing fire.

Iorveth is horrified that humans have harnessed this skill.

Iorveth’s missing eye

This is really short and idk if I’ll continue it, but the idea was for Roche to really wonder what was up with the bandana over half of Iorveth’s face was about. And then, of course, to find out.

Iorveth Gangbang

Why is this under Stripes fics, you might ask? Well, I have great news for you. Guess who the gang is?

In which Iorveth and Roche are in an established relationship and Iorveth gets tied up in the middle of the Stripes’ camp while Roche orders his men to take him apart. Iorveth very much enjoys himself, and then when the Stripes are tapped out, Roche shows ‘em how it’s done.

Kink Bingo fics aka that event that I totally failed, but hey, prompts are prompts.

Age Kink

In this fic, Iorveth and Roche both end up captured by unknown forces and end up imprisoned together. I think the Stripes and Scoia’tael are probably working together to find them and save them, but in the meantime, Iorveth and Roche decide to get to know each other a bit better. Featuring muscle spasms, blow jobs, and pain kink.

Eskel/Lambert (okay, a little out of place here, but eh, it’s in the doc and I am still working on it)

Started for a prompt on tumblr, Eskel and Lambert end up fighting and, trying to keep the peace, Eskel casts axii on Lambert. Which leads to Lambert confessing that he bit Eskel because it’s the only way he could get his mouth on him. This leads to some dodged confessions, some frottage, and some snarky banter, because of course it does. 

Tempt Not a Desperate Man aka the Fuck or Die series that started with Devour What’s Truly Yours

Fisting

The next part of the series, where Roche struggles with the fact that he’s been high key horny ever since the encounter in the woods with Iorveth and nothing is satisfying him. Iorveth, on the other hand, is jealous and annoyed that Roche keeps going to the whorehouse.

Then Roche decides to make a potentially suicidal move and enters the forest to try to find the clearing from last time. And, as you might guess from my heading, fisting will be happening. 

Iorveth POV: The Chaperon

Okay, I don’t actually have much of this written, but it’s really cute so - Roche keeps using his chaperon as a cum rag, so Iorveth knits and/or sews him a new one.

“Human Bootlicker”

PWP where Iorveth jokingly suggestions Roche should surrender on his knees - and then Roche does. And asks Iorveth to take his prize. Featuring Roche coming all over Iorveth’s boots from getting his face fucked, then leaning down and licking up the mess while Iorveth watches and then comes over his face.

One Accidental Proposal and Five Attempts At Accepting

So one of the themes of this ‘verse is gonna be the Elven Baths where the Roses of Remembrance grow. As in, they decide to make the elven baths a place they meet up. This is the first time Iorveth takes Roche there, and Roche does not know what significance the roses have. But he DOES know that Iorveth blushes cutely when he tucks a rose behind Iorveth’s ear, so...

Iorveth would like to accept, only Roche doesn’t know WHAT he’s trying to accept.

The Legend

So in the game, there is a legend around the statue of elven lovers above the elven baths. “Legend has it the lover’s sighs are enchanted within these very stones, though only those in love can hear them.” 

Iorveth overhears his Scoia’tael gossiping about the legend and comes to an abrupt realization that Roche and him were the ones they were hearing. Oops?

Standalone Fics

Letters

This is kind of a bittersweet WiP that I mostly wrote in one go and then went to sleep and kinda lost the will for it. BUT the premise is that post-Witcher 3 Roche is in charge of Temeria and his brooding is interrupted when he receives a letter sealed with a forget me not pressed into wax. Iorveth continues to send letters describing his life as a “civilian” in Nilfgaard and how much he hates it and Roche relates a little bit too much. Then Iorveth decides to run away and live on the streets as a musician and he might inspire Roche to start learning the cello and presumably at some point, they meet.

Identity Porn

Iorveth and Roche have a meet cute in Flotsam’s tavern while the elf is listening in for local gossip and Roche is passing through on his way to meet with the other northern kings to get support in fighting against the new emerging threat of the Scoia’tael. Neither knows who the other is, but that doesn’t stop them from starting a relationship where they meet every time Roche passes through Flotsam. But their house of cards can only last so long, and at some point, they will meet as enemies. Who knows what happens then? idk, not me.

Gwent pinup calendar aka Cards Out for Your Country

Hahaha, so I started this series in response to some WONDERFUL art of Roche with his Tits Out For Temeria. And obviously we need more of that, so I created a list of 24 characters who are asked to pose for some pinup art, all in the name of Gwent. So far, I’ve only finished Dandelion’s pose/the introduction, but I do plan to do as many of them as I physically can.

Gwent Game in Corvo Bianco

Wow, I didn’t even remember this WiP, so uh... clearly I haven’t worked on it in a while. But it’s Iorveth’s POV of how surprisingly comfortable he is in Corvo Bianco and Iorveth and Geralt get drunk and play gwent.

Zoltan/Jaskier/Priscilla

A giftfic for Wibbly that involves Zoltan being sappy about his bards and then Priscilla dominates them. Featuring all my headcanons about dwarven genitalia (two holes, one with a retractible dick).

Dijkstra fics

Noticing Roche’s Fucked Up Relationship

Anyone else randomly finding themselves shipping Dijkstra/Roche? No? Ah well. For this one Dijkstra observes Roche and sees a few too many reminders of himself with Vizimir, except Foltest is no Vizimir, and Roche clearly hasn’t learned to set up boundaries. Dijkstra feels weirdly compelled to help him figure that out before Foltest destroys him.

Developing Respect Fic

Also known as “let’s torture Roche 1.0!” This fic switches between the present, where Roche has woken up in a cell somewhere unknown and it brings back far too many memories for him to be entirely sure of what is happening when. In the past, he was captured by Redania while on a mission for Foltest, long before he was anyone notable. Dijkstra comes to visit, curious about this prisoner who refuses to break, to even tell them his name or confirm his country (but he has a Temerian tramp stamp, so they know lmao). So Dijkstra decides that this is not a man who will be broken through torture and decides to try conversation instead. The idea is to show them slowly gaining respect for each other, but like, obviously Roche is still a prisoner. Eventually, he’s returned to Temeria in a prisoner exchange, but meanwhile, in the present, Roche is all alone, with not even guards around and no way to free himself.

and that’s all!! I am... legitimately scared to count, tbh. This post is so fucking long, the number cannot be good for my heart. But, that said, please come talk to me about any ideas you find interesting!! Or anything you have questions about! 

And if you made it this far down the list... wow. Thank you, you rock.

[kanene-yaaay-o-retorno]

You’re a WHAT

Kanene’s Notes:

I’m weak for carzy scenarios  and glitter, so BOOOM!! Why don’t get these two things together??? :D)/ This fic marks the end of my break, I will be (trying to) going back to my old projects and probably won’t be writing for some weeks kjnhgfvghjkjhg. Wish me luck! <33

This wasn’t suppose to take so much to be written but I lost my PC and life got in the way :v   Buuuut! I manage to finish it and I already count this as a victory! xP

Warnings, fun facts, random things and stuff:

* That fanfic has Remy and Roman. They’re friendos yay :3. Oh, and this is pretty crazy. Context: The morning after Black Friday when you’re grumpy and wanting to kick the society in the face. A LOT of swearing, Patton does not approve.  

* This characters do not belongs to me. They all belongs to the amazing Thomas Sanders in his series of Sanders Sides.

* Something around 2.900 words. -w-)b.

* Sorry for any spelling, pontuation and grammar mistakes! Any advice is very very welcome!

* Tô com preguiça de postar a versão em português brasileiro aaaa! Thankys for reading, my lollipops! Try and have fun with new hobbies, be safe, talk with the one that you love, drink water and sleep well! Byeioo!~

                             [~*~]

Roman thought himself as a really lucky human being. Unbelievable lucky.

 It wasn't due to the apartment where he currently lived - Too much dull for his personal taste and space, getting even smaller from the day he admitted a messy, sassy and with sleep problems roommate, since Roman just started his musical career and couldn't afford an own house yet. - or the fact that was finally able to pursue his dream after years and years of just picturing, painting this moment on his future, only to find out his fantastic breathtaking and incredible goals weren’t nearly close of the cold reality, at least for now (Who would know that, after umpteenth days of hard studying and training he would need years and years of experience in order to even START wondering in get out of his partial-time job on that Electronic Store) or any other reason someone would be able to consider himself a receptacle of pure, brute luck, enlightened by the spotlights of the good, pleasant destiny...

 ... Or at least the most pleasant it could be in the horrible and exhaustive middle of the night after a whole day filled with his attempts to survive and treat respectfully the unmerciful, dirty jungle that humanity was at Black Friday. Something around fifteen  hours working with massive hordes of unscrupulous zombies starved for a sale and able to even kill and die (more likely the first option) to get what they want and with souls (if they still got one) free of any slight sight of education, patience and morals to be inserted in a society which, as it seemed, was equally rotten as them. View point only proved as Roman was obligated to be working after his shift to "clean all the mess" - more like hide the bodies of exhausted warriors after such bloody battle. – the store because those sons of a...

 "... Bitch, YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME!!!!" The poor, frustrated employed shouted to nowhere specific, his face turning towards the sky, seeking in some way to show his all his hate to the cinematography - because this was too much coincidence to NOT be part of a movie or some random fanfic on the black hole that was internet - rain falling at full force leading the weather to became even more freezing as soaked them both with its cool, thick drops.

Anyway, what he was daydreaming about?

"Roman." Oh, yeah, the reason why he viewed himself as a truly lucky person. "My gurl, if you try to impersonate a fucking, dramatic, bitch crow in my ear even again, I swear in the name of my life juice bean that I'm going to KILL you with my bare hands and these sunglasses."

 At least his best friend since, honestly, diapers, who coincidentally was his roommate and even more coincidentally, his coworker was just screwed as Roman himself. Which automatically made the duo less screwed, however equally pissed off, something that neither of them discovered if that was a good or bad thing, yet.

 "Fuck you, Remy" Roman whispered between an tired yawn, too much tired to even think about some nickname or to put real heat in his words as he got instinctively closer to the other, the one called taking off his jacket and lazily throwing it over their heads, doing his best to cover they both with the small available black leathered fabric, the act intertwined with grumpy grumbling and motions which would probably slap Roman's face if he wasn't careful. "I'm the one who buys your coffee."

 "Having my incredible, unique personality in your life should be motivation enough for you to buy me the entire Starbucks Company, be glad I'm weak to your cute face and am going easy on ya."

 " 'Cute'? Excuse me, I'm the most handsome, hottest and fabulous man you will ever met in your lowly life, mortal."

 Remy snorted at this "Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe, but if it's going to be like that your ego soon will have to pay his part at the rent."

 "Well, this 'ego' here was the only thing between your highness and jail after stopping you from committing all those murders today."

 "Bold of you to assume I wouldn't use my contacts to hide the evidences." Their tune were already completely sleepy, bodies instinctively leaning onto each other as the words stumbled, mixed and almost lost themselves in the soundly wind as slipped from their lips. Roman just laughed.

 "Well, if by ‘contacts’ mean 'Virgil' good luck getting him out of his bed on his free day. You would became the fucking new King Arthur." Roman rubbed his eyes, trying to physically force his eyelashes to not close, a new yawn finding its way to his mouth. He didn't even know about what they were talking anymore.

 "I roll the dice to cast Badass Nerd Bitch."

 “Logan??”

 “He likes to study nature stuff, especially at night, I’m sure he already knows some good spots to hide bodies. Glasses.”

 “Glasses?”

 “Glasses.”

 “OMG, the anime character with glasses.” Roman stopped, his mouth wide open as if all the secrets of the universe had been revealed to him.

 “Exactly.” Remy extended each syllable, grinning smugly.

 “I’ve never-“

“THIS IS A ROBERY!!”

 The sentence, which appeared to came out from nowhere, cut the air in a harsh, sharp tune, breaking the barriers and tying them up in the same place in a frozen position and wide eyes staring astonished the hooded form and their unreadable features under the bad illumination of the light poles helped by the increased storm. The wind trespassed them, stirring their clothes and making the muscles shake both of the alone employees in the middle of a dark, empty street at the dawn, even if the dangerously shiny knife directed towards their direction still in a hatred silence. 

 “My.” Roman knew he probably should be afraid, the freezing feeling running across his veins and frightening his brain and actions as infected his words in an unspeakable terror impossible to ignore nor escape. “fucking.” However, the only thing that slipped through his next was the purest, deepest, truest... “ASS.” Indignation.

 Roman thought about a lot of things. He thought about running away, grabbing Remy’s arm and sprinting across the street, about scream in the top of his lungs the waterfall of swearing already racing half way to his throat and even about kicking the knife out of the other’s hands and then kicking him - with a couple of cool moves he saw in some actions films - together with their frecking audacity to try to rob him of all the people in the world. Roman, who asked himself if he would have enough money to eat in the next week with a concerning frequency, who wondered if this is the life he will have until the end of his existence, if he will ever be able to accomplish his dreams.

 His gaze changed to Remy, who was paralyzed, trembling between the poor light of the street and the massive rain. Roman swallowed. Everything was in his hands.

 For a piece of Roman felt the strange urge to spill to the figure before him the story of his life, all his tries, all his battles, his everyday fights to make his dreams real. Blow by blow. Day by day. A life destined to go after everything he wished to himself, everything he wanted to life, to experience, to savor, to do everything in his hands to ignore and one day maybe, hopefully forget all the ghosts - these ones always accompanied by those emotionless, sharp whispers - asking, doubting nonstop if he ever would be able to do all of this, if he was doing the rights thing, if it was really worth all of it.

 However, before the first word even slipped of Roman’s tongue or his mind came fully back to Earth, Remy was already positioning himself strategically between the robber and his friend, the currently only one with the leather jacket falling on his shoulders. However, Remy didn’t seem nearly soaked as he should be, and for a heartbeat, the same one which Remy moved his hands to his jeans’ pocket, his fingers touching and firmly holding something there, Roman could swear that the unexpectedly shiver running across his spine wasn’t due the cold wind.

 Nor the sentence hurled in the clouds.

 “You know what?? Fuck it.”

 And then he unsheathed his magic wand.

 Roman loved with the entirety of his heart all kind of magic, he could easily spend an entire afternoon (which he already had, by the way) listing his favorites movies, musicals and stories with that theme. That also could be easily said by the thousands and thousands of worlds, universes and lifes he invented – in and out of his head - about the subject trough his childhood and handful of teenage years, random ideas and inspirations appearing and dancing in his mind until nowadays. If that only wasn’t enough to convince someone then the umpteenth memories of mornings and afternoons bathed in the smell of books, rocked by the calm silene of the public library as he turned one more page, his back lightly aching by the bad position assumed behind the shelters, in a place he strategically found and claimed as his own Bridge to Terabithia, enjoying every moment as if nothing else mattered. Perhaps you wouldn’t even need to swim in such deep, ancient waters to find out his love, since at least fifty percent of his day was dedicated to shout, hummer or murmur Disney songs.

 However, as rays of pure energy  - shiny and kind of glittery one - involved and swirled from Remy’s, who now was floating a few centimeters above the ground, wand in stripes that got lighter and lighter, begging to spin faster around the aforementioned, creating a spere of a power stunning and big enough to stop the rain in the corner.

 The silence resulting from the lack of the storm didn’t had the opportunity to fill the moment, being obligated to give its space to a soft, intense melody whispered in their ears. The notes standing some more moments in the air, the beating following the changes in the shadowed figure inside the spere. Hesitations taking over the loud, quick heartbeats when the song finally stopped.

 The power’s spere finally exploded, the impact leading to an unbelief and intensive force push both human meters away.

 “Get. Out.”  Remy’s tune still the same, his form – Now adorned by a gleaming crop top, his fluttering skirt over shorts floating in synchrony with the veils which surrounded his clothes and wrapping his arms, the ending spreading in the air as a bunch of angry powered and fancy snakes. - even with the new vestments full of glitter (this probably would be a hell to get off, later) still the same, his gaze, powerful – a new meaning pouring from this word – strong, still the same. But yet…

 Yet his wide eyed, heart hammering in his chest friend since he could remember found himself struggling to connect the same Remy who he had known – if he could still say that? -  all his life with the same being who gleamed dangerously before him.

 The magic wand danced in a quick flick and a trash can came of what seemed nowhere to hit the wobbled and absolutely terrified robber, who fell with a soft thumph in the ground, unconscious.

 “-man, Roman!!! Don’t just stay standing there like a tree, help me here, gurl!” Suddenly the called snapped from his own sea of thoughts, submerging and astonished blinking in Remy’s direction. The rain started to fell on them again, and when their eyes met, when Roman saw the same guy who spent afternoons climbing trees and pretending they were knights and dragons attacking or saving the world, when he recalled the silent sleepovers where they just sat near of each other enjoying the mutual company, the grumpy mornings in their apartment, the comfort hugs, the looks full of words, the smiles filled with meaning, the friendship stuffed with so many, many memories... 

 Nostalgia. The feeling that everything was changed albeit something… something important always stayed. Roman felt, truly felt it and fixed his glare into that brilliant – quite literally - glare adorned with a ‘I’m about to punch your cocky face if you keep fucking narrating every freaking second of your life, ya bitch’ he realized... 

 It was Remy.

 He took a deep breath, moving closer and gradually relaxing as the aforementioned focused in trying to lift the guy, swearing more frequently than raindrops fell from the sky.

 “Remy?”

 “Yeah?”

 “First crush.”

 The other stopped, frowning confused. Roman didn’t quiver, feeling he deserved some sort of answer. At least about this. “What?”

 “My first crush. Who?”

 “Kovu.” Remy maybe was a bit cold hearted, maybe he wasn’t the best with human interactions or knew exactly what Roman wanted with that… but he knew Roman enough to realize this was important. Essentially when the said seemed to relax, his form untensing itself and being allowed to get closer of the magic being.

 “Okay. Okay, okay…” Roman took a deep breath, grounding himself. Their gaze met, his next words coming a little calmer. “Okay.”

 “Please don’t make me sing that serenate you made for him. I’m gonna fucking quit.”

 “Oh, shut up!! Our first love is something special, mister I-Can’t-Choose-Between-The-Beast-And-The-Beauty.”

 Remy decided to ignore the words, slightly lowing his sunglasses with his special Judgmental ‘Bold of you to assume I have enough shame to be mocked’ Look. Roman just flipped in his direction, taking advantage that the other’s hands were occupied.

 It was still Remy, with a whole more of style and glitter – Why are there so much glitter here?? - but it was just Remy. Like just any other day.

 Before he even realized, Roman was already at his friend’s - and as it seems a magical being - side, helping him to carry the robber’s body to somewhere dry so he wouldn’t die of hypothermia.

 “Why don’t you- Ouch!! My feet, dammit!” His breaths came out as puffs, the effort leading to his already exhausted muscles only protest even more and very much probably curse him later with sore movements for the audacity to transport anything heavier than a pen. “Why don’t you use your... Wizard magic or something to carry him??”

 “Oh. My. Gosh. Roman, you are sooo intelligent, why aren’t you in Harvard? Ow! Ow! Ow!!” Remy’s sarcasm was cut when the other kicked, or did his best to with their actual position, him in protest.  “Homophobic.” He exhaled a mix of irritation and a snort, receiving a playful punch in his arm by their inside joke.  “I’m your Fairy Godmother, brainless. Unless it was you laid in this stupid, cold ground I can’t use my magic anymore... Except if this is someone of your family but I doubt-”

 “Wait, wait, wait, WAIT!!! YOU ARE MY FAIRY GODM-”

 “No, no way, nope, we are NOT having this conversation right now.” Remy, the Fairy Godmother let go of the unconscious body in a way that probably will make the guy wake up sore, perhaps with a concussion even, directing his index finger in Roman’s direction in a deep, determined stare full of darkness and things that Roman could swear would make Remy be expelled from the group of Friendly Fairy GodmotherS  or whatever... thing he was inserted. “Let me tell you what we are doing right now: We are going to home, change our clothes then I’m getting coffee and you will get sleep so I don’t have to face nor care about the freak consequences of my damn actions.”

 ...

 “That...” Roman stop, as if was considering his next words. Remy’s face just scrunched in a bigger, firmer frown. “That would be hella scary if you didn’t look like someone who just stole a store of glitter and got attacked by the gay, glitterly, shiny fairies who protected the place.”

 “Go fuck yourself. I’m locking you outside when we get there.”

 “Noo, please don’t! My evil stepmother didn’t let me go to the prince castle and now I need help! Crying emoji, crying emoji.” Roman mocked, imitating sad sobs and sniffles as quick his pace to follow the other, who flipped him.

 “I’m this far from knock you out with my magical wand and then you will see who is the evil stepmother.” His wand gleamed in warning, the red color getting mixed and trembled by the fast movements of his veils, one of them getting dangerously next to Roman’s face, who cleverly got silent for some heartbeats, the sound of the rain slowly calming their heartbeats and rocking them, the tiredness gaining the space which, piece by piece, was being unhanded by their adrenaline.

 They arrived home, both still quiet, feeling free as a relieved sign left their lips. Remy threw his soaked jacket in some dark corner, the bed being the only thing which was allowed to take over all his thoughts and will. 

 An awed gasp echoed behind him and he immediately regretted his move.

 “YOU HAVE WINGS????”

 Before his eyelashes closed, the shiny of the wand disappearing gradually as an ungodly amount of sleepiness gained complete control over his body, relaxing each one of his fibers and as a warm, magic good feeling fills every single cell in his being, Roman wondered if ‘Fuck it’ was the name of Remy’s spell.

[itszephoria]

Saw this pop up and your followers ask you which ones they’re interested in. But people don’t really ask much when I post or they don’t ask the ones that might make you feel uncomfortable. And well, honestly I’m so bored that I’ve decided to break all the damn rules and just answer all the questions because I can. *shock horror*

So information dump on the ‘Be nosy’ that popped up in my feed today. If you’re interested.

Be nosy

1. What’s your sexual orientation? 

Straight. But maybe for the right woman I could sway but wouldn’t go so far as to call myself bi or bi-curious though.

2. What are you obsessed with right now? 

Obsessively obsessing about my health and how to get well and failing it all. Oh and anime movies on Netflix.

3. Ever done any drugs?

I do drugs everyday. But I assume this is referring to illegal. No and was strictly no up until recently. I now take marijuana oil on a regular basis for pain management. Also being stoned/high is not pleasant and I don’t understand why people would enjoy that as a leisurely pastime.

4. What piercings do you want?

I want to get my ears pierced again. Holes have closed up, but currently due to my health that’s not possible. I can’t even enjoy clipons :(

5. How many people have you kissed?

The massive number of 5.

6. Describe your dream home.

It’s tiny in the sense it has all the space I need. A cosy tiny-like home. But not one on wheels, fixed to the ground. And it would be made of all natural materials, stone and wood. It would be unique and resemble something out of a fairy tale. It would sit a beautiful clearing with only nature to view in the distance and all the animals and wildlife would stay well away because I’m pretty much terrified of all it, 

7. Who are you jealous of?

Healthy, painfree people. I am jealous of past me who didn’t realise how lucky she was and miss her.

8. What’s your favorite show to binge?

I don’t binge any show on repeat. I’d rather look for a new show to watch or enjoy, there are so many. The last shows I binged in two days was Queen’s Gambit and Emily in Paris.

9. Do you watch porn?

Yep. But struggle with it because it’s overdramatic, unrealistic and would kill or someone to make porn with a decent storyline with people that can act. 

I prefer to read it if I’m honest or maybe just write it for myself.

10. Do you have a secret sideblog?

Sort of? More like my other one I used I was known for all my slash writings in F1. But now I just hang out here.

11. If you could teleport anywhere in the world right now, where would you go?

No where. The world is riddled with co-vid and well, I’m probably in one of the safest countries and I’m at risk of death should I catch it. So I’ll stay here in my safe bubble.

12. What’s one of your fantasies?

I wake up tomorrow and I’m not me. I wake up and I can take a deep breath without gasping for air, I wake up in no pain, I wake up and my body isn’t terribly scared, I wake up and can have a ‘normal’ life.

13. Do you have/would you get your nipples pierced?

Nope and no desire too. Won’t that just hurt?

14. How would you spend a million dollars?

I’d by that dream house I described, set everything up to be self sufficient. Pay and travel to try every cure available for my diseases. And then bank the rest and live off interest. Or maybe donate it. I don’t want money and I don’t really want a lot of things.

15. Are you in a relationship?

Yep and it’s a struggle and am constantly fighting to prove it’s worth continuing. Oh and that’s a relationship with myself.

16. Do you follow porn blogs?

No.

17. Are you angry with anyone right now?

No, I suppose it’s more disappointed and let down by people more than angry. I’m working everyday on letting it go but it’s not easy.

18. What tattoos do you want?

I have always wanted one, but have never found something that I really loved and haven’t been imaginative enough to create something unique. The older I get though, I’m not sure I want one. I did for the longest time though think about getting a Ferrari tattooed on my inner wrist, but pleased I never did that. I don’t love the sport or Ferrari enough anymore to want a permanent reminder of that.

19. If you could change your name, would you? What would you change it to?

I am changing name actually. Hoping to action that in the next two weeks. I would have done it earlier but they closed the borders. I have a dutch sir name that has two words. It confuses every one, systems don’t get it, it has caused issues with plane tickets. And well I’ve decided no more and am dumping a portion of it.

20. What is something you’re obsessed with?

This is a duplicate. Skipping.

21. Describe your best friend.

When you meet her for the first time she can be a little crazy and wild, and she kind of scared at me first because she’s so unlike me. But as you got to know her, the *real* her she doesn’t let people see, you realise how kind and soft she is, and she’s the most empathic person I have known. She gives so much of herself to everyone, thinks so little of herself and her needs because she’s one of the most selfless people I know. I love her more than most of my family and would do anything for her.

22. Tag someone you think is hot.

Is this followers? Uh most I don’t know what they look like? I assume they’re all hot!

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists?

Don’t have any really. My music is varied and is based on my mood and really changes around. And with most bands, I generally lean towards one or two songs. This is one of those questions I really struggle with whenever I see it. Will say however, have been enjoying The Beatles recently and a bit of old school stuff.

24. What are three places you want to travel?

Japan. Norway. Canada.

25. Describe your perfect Friday night.

Generally hanging out with people I like. Enjoying a good wine, some cheese, either playing some board game or dungeons and dragons, or watching a really good movie. Good company makes any night a good night.

26. What’s your favorite season?

Autumn. One because I think it’s neglected as a choice and every season should be loved, and two because I love the colours of autumn and the colours associated with autumn. 

27. What’s your pet peeve?

I’m sure I have a heap of them, but currently it’s people that have an issue with you and instead of being an adult and talking to you about them choose to silence and blank you. I’m so tired of it, I’ve quit being peacemaker in those situations, those people are no longer worthy in my book.

28. Who is the funniest person you know?

Uh... I don’t think anyone I know is super funny. Friends and family all have a good sense of humor. But out of my circle of life people I’m always told I’m the funny one, which I find the biggest joke ever. 

29. What’s the most overrated movie?

Can not think of anything off the top of my head. I will say if I think a movie is getting too much hype I refuse to watch it, whether all the reviews are raving or not. It’s why I didn’t watch Harry Potter for like ten years or any of the new Star Wars movies. I just refuse to be apart of all the hype and jump on bandwagons.

30. Tag someone you want to talk to but have been too shy to message.

I’d love to talk to everyone. I’m shy to start any conversations to be honest and I think all the people I talk to regularly were the first to message me, and I love them for it.

31. Do you like paper books or ebooks better?

100% love an old fashioned paper book. The texture of the paper. The smell of a book. That being said, I don’t think I’ve picked up a proper book to read in years. I live in fan fiction more than anything or am busy writing myself.

32. If you could live in a fictional world, what world would you pick?

Any of the disney worlds, anything from the past, or verging on fantasy like. I want a simpler time not full of technology which I grow to hate more each day. The older I get the more I’m pretty sure I’ve been born in the wrong decade.

33. If money was no object, what would your wardrobe be like?

I’d build the perfect wardrobe capsule. Everything would be of high quality, not necessarily brand name and all the clothes would be sourced from ethical businesses or be handmade.

I like classic pieces, love the fashion of the 50′s and 60s and while stylish it would be comfortable to wear and everything could be worn in public (sorry comfy tracky pants).

34. What’s your coffee order?

There ain’t no coffee order. I don’t drink it. Sorry @leoni-speedyf1 I know how addicted you are to it, happy to buy you anything you like though :P

35. Do you have a crush on anyone?

In real life? No one.

36. Do you still have feelings for any of your exes?

Not romantic. I have feelings in that I hope they’re doing well, achieving what they want and they’re all happy. I didn’t have any ‘bad’ breakups and all my relationships ended very amicably.

37. Have any tattoos?

No. See above for more on this.

38. Do you drink?

Rarely. Can’t with medication and condition. But on occasion I do enjoy a good glass of red. Pinot Noir is my preference. 

39. Are you a virgin?

Nope.

40. Do you have a crush on any of your mutuals?

Not in a romantic way? The ones I talk to regularly I love immensely though.

41. How many followers do you have?

99

42. Describe the hottest person you know.

Uh all the men I know I am not attracted to. Probably a good thing as they’re either family or partnered with a friend or family member.

43. What’s your guilty pleasure?

Can’t think of anything. I try not to feel guilt for anything I enjoy to be honest, whether it’s food or an activity. Life is too short for that.

44. Do you read erotica?

Yep. Even write it.

45. What’s the worst date you’ve ever been on?

It was a few years back. I met this guy online and we went to the city and spent most of that time just strolling next to the river for our first meet up. Why was it the worst date ever? Well it wasn’t the location that’s for sure.

The guy had two kids, and I’m a firm believer all parents have favourites, though I have yet to meet a parent that will voice that aloud. This guy, had no qualms with telling me about this favourite kid, and that wouldn’t be a problem if didn’t spend just as much putting down his younger son. It kind of left me reeling and wondering how his son felt if his dad didn’t hide just how much he didn’t like him as a person. The kid was four and the reason his dad didn’t like him was because he didn’t like bikes.

And so the guy was a bmx rider so he spent the rest of the time on our walk just pointing out all the tricks he could do. He didn’t ask about me, only talked about himself. It was also lunch time and assumed we would get something to eat together, but nope, no food was offered. And when I suggested to get something to drink because it was so hot and we’d been out in the sun for like an hour, he just took me to a subway and told me to get a drink and waved me to the line. No offer to join me, no offer to pay (which doesn’t bother me btw, but this was capping off a terrible day), no offer to get food.

I was so happy to get out of there. Didn’t speak to him again once I had left.

46. How many people do you follow?

I currently follow 59 people. I don’t follow anyone that creates drama, and try and follow only people that post about F1 as that’s all I use tumblr for now.

47. If you could marry any celebrity, who would you pick?

Either Sebastian Vettel or Ryan Reynolds. Both are married though, so I don’t think that’s going to turn into a reality anytime soon.

48. Describe your ideal partner.

I want someone that shares the same core values as me. Doesn’t want kids, isn’t super religious (grew up in a cult like religion so I avoid it now), is on the minimalist side and isn’t someone that needs new things things all the time or is desperate to replace something the moment they deem it out of date. Someone that doesn’t live their life on social media. Someone that prefers simple things, someone who is kind and giving, and someone that truly loves me - and it’s the last part that I struggle with finding more than anything with all the guys I have dated. 

I am currently not looking for a partner, I am not in a place for a relationship and am fully focused on myself. And I am very content with that decision.

49. Who do you text the most?

Currently my bestie.

50. What’s your favorite kind of weather?

Clear blue skies and a warm day to enjoy the sun. But there are times when I simply love the rain, hearing it on the room, watching it fall endlessly and knowing that everything will be green from it.

[etherealwaifgoddess]

Maybe I Am? - Chpt.2

Characters: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Steve takes a risk and the guys go out on a “date”. Master list HERE

Content Warning: first “date” cuteness, making out 

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! Today is one of those days where I am eternally grateful for having a “draft” option. Because honestly, ya girl is exhausted. So yay for drafts! Enjoy chapter two. I’m honestly too tired to give ya’ll a better note right now. :-\   XOXO - Ash

Chapter Two

Steeeeve [9:32:08PM]: Hey, it’s Steve.

Bucky Barnes [9:32:47PM]: hi steve

Steeeeve [9:33:15PM]: I had a lot of fun meeting up today.

Bucky Barnes [9:33:39PM]: me 2

Steve huffed staring at Bucky’s second generic response. He was usually so much more lively. Steve took a long sigh and started texting what he needed to get off his chest.

Steeeeve [9:35:21PM]: I’m sorry if I came off as confused or misleading. 

Steeeeve [9:35:26PM]: I didn’t mean to do that. But I am kind of confused right now. 

Steeeeve [9:35:35PM]: I spent so much time liking the idea of you, and you in real life was even more amazing than I could have expected. But I’ve never dated a guy before and I never expected to want to. And now I think I do. 

Steeeeve [9:35:49PM]: I’m sorry. This probably isn’t any less confusing. I’m apparently really bad at this lol. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you go out on a maybe-date with me? I want to try and see how I feel. I don’t want to string you on, but I want to try.

Bucky stared at the flurry of texts coming into his phone. Damn, serial texter much? He read and re-read Steve texts a few times, chewing nervously his bottom lip, trying to find a response. He wasn’t willing to let his heart get trample on again, not after Brock. But he really liked Steve and if there was a chance Steve might like him too, it was too good to pass up. He had a distinct feeling he was going to regret it, but he tapped out the only honest response he could think of.

Bucky Barnes [9:44:13PM]: i like u 2 steve. i get that ur confused. lets try ur maybe-date and see how it goes? if it goes well cool, if not no hard feelings. k?

Steeeeve [9:45:20PM]: Thank you. Really, thank you for being so great about this. Can we get dinner one night this week? 

Bucky Barnes [9:45:55PM]: im free any nite but tues

Steeeeve [9:46:10PM]: I can do Friday night around 7. There’s a really great Mexican place a few blocks over from the gym if you’re willing to schelp all the way over to Park Slope. 

Bucky Barnes [9:46:31PM]: sounds good. see u then

Bucky sighed, putting his phone away into the pocket of his favorite old hoodie. He had a date. A maybe-date, but for some reason that felt good enough for him at the moment.

xxXxx

Steve discovered the best part of being able to text Bucky wasn’t just that their chatting was no longer limited to when they were both near a computer, but that they now had a full range of emojis, memes, and GIFs at their disposal. He could now send Bucky random funny things he found during the day and he felt a little proud when Bucky would send back a string of laughing emojis, knowing he had brightened the other man’s day a little. He had worried with their maybe-date looming things might be a little awkward but if anything they were going even better. By the time Friday came Steve was genuinely looking forward to their maybe-date. He had even gone out on Wednesday before his shift at the gym to pick up a set of clothes that were distinctly not gym wear. He couldn’t remember the last time he bought a button up shirt but he had to admit the blue and white checked shirt looked nice on him. He was trying not to stress over the maybe-date but he felt this gnawing need to know, definitively, if he was truly interested in Bucky, or just the fantasy of WinterBae. 

Steve raced home Friday to shower and change, hoping he’d left himself enough time to do all that and still make it over to Los Aztecas in time. Taking the time to slick back his hair and do a quick shave, Steve was hustling out the door only to realize he’d forgotten the bottle of wine once he got outside. After a fast double back for the wine he was on his way, making it to the tiny authentic Mexican restaurant with three minutes to spare. He had barely stopped walking when he saw Bucky hopping out of an uber. Steve felt a little flutter at the sight of Bucky and he took it as a good sign. 

Bucky looked amazing in his dark skinny jeans and a silky looking black shirt. A minimalist necklace was around his throat, the simple bar resting just below the wings of his collarbones. Steve noticed Bucky had swapped out the cheery beaded bracelets he’d worn on Sunday for a set of sleek silver and leather ones. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a fashion magazine and Steve felt ridiculous in what Sam had teased was his bible salesman outfit. 

“Heya.” Bucky greeted warmly, extending an arm for a half hug.

“Hey,” Steve echoed, hugging back with his free hand. “Ready for the best Mexican food of your life?” 

“Definitely, let’s go.” 

Steve led Bucky inside the little restaurant, its cozy decor making the place feel intimate instead of cramped. Steve had called ahead for reservations so they were whisked off to a table as soon as he gave the concierge his name. Bucky was looking around fascinated, taking in all the colorful decorations. 

“It’s really something, huh?” Steve prompted with a smile.

Bucky nodded in agreement, “Yeah, it’s beautiful. So much art packed into so little space. Thanks for bringing me here, Steve.” 

“It’s one of my favorite places in the area, mostly for the tacos but also for the art. I got my degree in fine art before I switched gears and went back to get certified in exercise science.” 

“That’s quite a switch.” Bucky laughed.

“Art will always be my first love, but it’s not exactly profitable. And once I got healthier I knew I wanted to help other people do the same. I was really sick as a kid and didn’t hit any major growth spurts until I was almost 21. After that, I worked out a lot getting used to my new body and fell in love with the gym.” 

“Wow. I’m glad you were able to get healthier, and it’s sweet you’re trying to give back to others with that.” 

“Do you go to a gym? I won’t be offended that it’s a competitor, I swear.”  

Bucky barked out a laugh, “No. God, no. I am perfectly happy with not having abs or a totally flat stomach as long as waffles exist.” 

Steve couldn’t help his eyes dropping to Bucky’s stomach which honestly couldn’t have had more than the smallest layer of padding across it. “That’s okay too. Waffles are pretty great.” 

The waitress stopped by to uncork their wine and drop off a basket of fresh tortilla chips and salsa verde. 

“What did you bring?” Bucky asked as he took the glass of white wine Steve had poured him.

“Albariño. A waitress here recommended it a few years ago and now it’s my go to. It’s light and crisp, and kinda citrusy? I’m not a wine snob but it’s damn good and goes really well with tacos. I hope you like white wine, I forgot to ask.” 

“I’ve yet to meet a white wine I didn’t like, so you’re safe.” Bucky sipped the wine and his eyes lit up, “Oh yeah, this is good. I’ll be hunting this down next time I go shopping.” 

“You can get it over at the little wine boutique near the farmers market in Sunset Park. They always have this kind.”

“Nice, I’ll have to check it out. My sister will love this the next time she visits.” 

The conversation flowed as the basket of tortilla chips disappeared, only ebbing when their platters arrived and they tucked into their food. Steve had ordered his usual taco platter while Bucky opted for the taquitos platter, an assortment of slow roasted meats wrapped in thin crispy shells. He let out a groan at his first bite that had Steve’s heart stuttering in his chest. The maybe-date had mostly felt like a friend-date up until that point, though Steve had to admit there was a tiny flutter of like there too. But the noise Bucky made and the expression on his face had Steve thinking anything but friends only thoughts. 

Bucky caught Steve staring at him as he licked a dribble of sauce off his bottom lip. He hadn’t gotten a distinct date-date vibe from Steve but the look on the blonde’s face was priceless. Bucky thought he probably had made a similar one the first time he saw Devon Sawa in Wild America when he was 12. He had never stood a chance of being straight after that. Testing the waters a little bit, Bucky smirked at Steve, making it abundantly clear he’d been caught staring. Steve flushed and Bucky’s smile widened. There might be hope after all.

Steve wasn’t sure if it was the wine or too many tacos but by the time dinner was over he felt glued to his seat. He hated knowing the evening was coming to an end and wanted to do something, anything, to prolong it. The waitress dropped off the sales receipt with a pen and Steve tried to steady his hand as he signed his name. He knew he needed to muster up his courage or he would be saying goodbye to Bucky in mere minutes.

“Thanks again for paying.” Bucky said after draining the last of his wine, “This was really nice.” 

“It was.” Steve agreed, seeing his chance, “You know, I have another bottle of this wine back at my place if you wanna come over for a bit. Maybe you could help me find that movie app you were telling me about for the Fire Stick?”

“Sure, I’m happy to help. I won’t say no to more of that wine either.” Bucky stamped down the hopeful cheering in his chest that Steve was inviting him over. The poor guy probably didn’t mean that anything would happen other than wine and tech help but Bucky could always dream. He would be respectful though, he resolved to himself. He’d never dated a guy who was questioning his sexuality before and Bucky didn’t want to push too far too soon. Bucky figured it was best to let Steve set the pace and just hope his heart didn’t get run over in the process. 

Steve’s apartment was only four blocks from the restaurant, a second floor walk up in an old converted brownstone. It was nicer than Bucky’s little hole in the wall apartment and even had a small second bedroom that Steve had set up as a home office. After giving Bucky a quick tour, he led them to the kitchen to pull another bottle of Albariño out of his cabinet. Passing a stemless glass to Bucky, he poured them both a generous amount of wine which they carried out to the living room so Bucky could show Steve the app he’d mentioned during dinner. A few clicks and a quick download later, Steve had access to a ridiculous amount of free movies. 

“This is so great.” Steve praised, clicking through the different options. “Oh I love this one!”

“Hm?” Bucky looked up from his glass to see Steve hovering over 10 Things I Hate About You. “Oh that one is great. I remember wanting to be Patrick Verona when I grew up after seeing that.” 

Steve gave an amused side eyed look at Bucky. “I think you did a decent job.” he teased, throwing on the movie out of sheer impulse.

Bucky laughed, “You’re sweet. But god knows I’ll never be that smooth.” 

“You’re better off than me. I’ve been told I’m hopeless on more than one occasion.” 

“You hold your own, Rogers.” Bucky assured him, reaching over to take Steve’s hand in his, stroking the pad of his thumb over the ridges of Steve’s knuckles. 

Steve blinked slowly, looking from their joined hands up to Bucky’s face. It felt good, that fluttery feeling stirring in his gut at the contact. He gave Bucky a smile and squeezed his hand gently, making sure his consent was clear.

The movie rolled and they sipped their wine as Patrick did his best to woo Kat. Bucky slowly nudged closer to Steve until he was pressed against his side, his head leaning against Steve’s shoulder. He was warm and comfortable and completely unwilling to move by the time Letters to Cleo played into the credits. 

“I can’t believe it’s after eleven already.” Steve yawned. 

Bucky yawned next, set off by Steve’s. “Same. I had a really good night, Steve.” He looked up curiously, wondering if Steve had found any new revelations on their maybe-date. 

“Me too. This was… really nice. Hey, um, I know this was a maybe-date, but maybe um…”

Bucky shifted so he could sit up taller and face Steve while he fumbled for words.

“I, um, I’d really like to kiss you right now.” Steve blurted out, looking equal parts excited and terrified. 

Bucky’s smile was like the sun. “Okay, yeah.” Bucky reached out to cup Steve’s cheek, going agonizingly slow to give Steve a chance to bolt if he needed it. He leaned up a little and Steve craned his neck down, tentatively meeting Bucky’s lips with his own. 

A soft press, a pause, another soft press, and then the kiss deepened, Bucky’s lips parting to slot Steve’s with his. Steve let out a choked off moan, unable to believe what he was doing and how good it felt. He let a hand rake through Bucky’s hair and it only made him want to feel more of the silky locks. The scent of cedar and teak from his cologne filled Steve’s nose and though it was very distinctly male, Steve couldn’t get enough of it. It was so much more than he could have expected but also not nearly enough. He was breathing raggedly when he finally pulled back, repressing a shudder at the well kissed expression on Bucky’s face. His full bottom lip was shining and red, his eyes heavy lidded and his chest heaving just as much as Steve’s. 

“Whoa.” Steve finally breathed out in amazement.

“Yeah, whoa.” Bucky agreed. “So does this help in sorting out if this was a date-date?”

“I think it was definitely a date-date.” 

“I’m glad. And do you think you’d want to try another date sometime?”

“When are you free next?” Steve chuckled, only half kidding. 

“Easy there, pal.” Bucky warned lightly, patting Steve’s ridiculously broad chest. “We’ll find a day again soon.” 

Steve nodded, knowing Bucky was right for wanting to take things slow. He led Bucky over to the door, giving him one last quick kiss goodbye before the brunette headed out into the early summer night. Steve was still floored by his own reactions to Bucky but it felt so right that he couldn’t agonize over it for long. 

[lockdownuk]

Lockdown Diary Part 2

A personal account during the lockdown in the UK due to the Covid-19 outbreak.

23/03/2020 8:30pm Boris Johnson, UK Prime Minister, gives a live address to the nation to, effectively, put the country on lockdown to stem the spread of the deadly coronavirus strain, Covid-19.

Many of us have been self-isolating for days but this latest development within the UK in reaction to the pandemic feels very serious and very scary. I decided to keep a simple diary and where better but online.

Day 31: I went to Tesco’s at Hampton at @8pm. It was weird. But I made it less weird by buying (amongst all the legit stuff I needed and some stuff for Karen’s mum) more booze. I have, atm about 30 assorted cans and 60 assorted bottles. I’m gonna stop buying booze now until I’m down to the last dozen. I don’t want owt to happen and I leave many behind!

Day 32: More than a calender month! I was rung up by a recruitment agent today about a contract with DHL as a remote support engineer to their aviation section. €400 a day! I’ve applied. Few beers tonight, watching a new Netflix release (Extraction) and catching up with Fog, Ham, Andy and Rog later at 10:30pm - yikes, might be pissed.

Day 33: Typing this on day 34. Dossed around during the day, few beers and another video call with fog, Ham and Rig plus I invited John Monk along. He was his usual self and signed off from the call with a moonie! Later on I had the pleasure of Scottish Louise video calling me! She was pissed, in her shed drinking den at her home with some neighbour called Ronnie and her daughter Ellie. She was her usual outrageous self who imaprted such gems as “Tim, you look old” and “Roger on coke is the only time I’ve taken it up the arse”. Nice.

Day 34: Today I skyped Laurie and ‘met’ Matthew and Nicholas for the first time. It was bloody fantatsic. Janine was there as well.I cannot believe it takes lockdown (plus an idea to get Laurie to add me to his regular Monday skype chat with Dad) that managed to get us doing something that should have happened years ago! It was so great to talk to them all face-to-face. Janine hasn’t changed a bit, Matthew is very quiet with Nicholas being the more gregorious twin. And Laurie is still Laurie. I’m reminded of how much I sort of miss him! It was all so comfortable. I loved it! Tomorrow is Dad’s 85th hence the 3-way chat idea. I hope it comes off!

Day 35: So dad and Laurie and I skyped. It was OK but my video feed was very dark, (still dunno why) and Lauire’s kept freezing. I dropped out so as to leave them to it, my thinking being the extra person takes up bandwidth, with the promise I’d call dad later. Before I could, Rita called me and suggested Dad and I skype, which we did. So, all in all, a good day of comms! And Dad seems his happy usual self - 85 years old! Amazing.

Day 36: I am really struggling to motivate myself this week. Today, I’ve done fuck all of note. That is all.

Day 37: A similar day to yesterday. All I have really managed to do is lay down audio from Pink Floyd (Absolutely Curtains) to a video I shot of a cow on yesterday’s walk. I am having a downer of a week without any good reason why, ld aside. I have worn my new walking boots today (’cos my old ones are leaking, I found out yesterday) and they fucking hurt, despite having tried to wear them in for months, albeit pathetically. Also, a few days ago (Friday 24th April), I got notification from HM Revenue & Customs that I’m getting tax rebate (from 2018-19) of £392. Yay!

Day 38: I received notification today that I’ve got a speeding ticket…last Thursday back from Tesco’s - 87mph somewhere between the A1 and Elton. I am hoping it’s a fixed penalty. I dunno whether it is yet, I just have to send the form off confirming it’s my car and I was driving. I spoke with Lynda from Woodfords asking her to ask for a rent reduction before I sign for another year. Plus, I let her know that I will be Howard and Sue’s eyes as the look at rental properties in Oundle - I do hope they return although it would be a shame for them that their plans have been scuppered (she’s lost her job in Oz due to Covid-19)

Day 39: Today I started another piece of exercise - up and down the stairs 26 times. Not sure why 26 - it was some thing online to do with the London Marathon, I think. It fucking killed. I used 13 clothes pegs for a counting system. I asked Karen to pick up some stuff when she was shopping (burgers, radishes) - Dan dropped them off, He was with Shaggy (driving his van) and going to see Jonah. That pisses me off - they should be social distancing, ffs.

Discoevered, today, that Cornershop, post-Brinful are fucking excellent. listening to the album ‘England is a Garden’ as I type.

Day 40: That 26 times up and down the stairs is fucking hard. I did videos about it today. My legs are aching like fuck right now.

Day 41: Just done Young Sam’s (Sam Clews) quiz. 3rd week running and it’s now become a habit and something I look forward to. Out of all the internet driven socialising I’m undertaking in ld, this is the weirdest - I feel totally detatched from all others taking part but, now, would feel pissed off if I didn’t or couldn’t join in. I got 47/70 this week. My best score and only about 8 off the winning score  -  most others aren’t doing it on their own!

Today’s walk was a cloudy one - I captured some fine, dramatic pics of the clouds. I am getting into this photography lark, albeit very amateurish. But, when I post any pics online (mostly FB), they seem to be widely appreciated, which is nice.

Day 42: Applied for a remote service delivery job with a firm called TTEC. £60k. Finished watching The Outsider. The creepiest TV show I have seen in years. Really great use of background music.

Day 43: Finished Mindhunter S2 last night. It’s so good but I cannot quite put my finger on why. Today has been a nothing day apart from day 2 of me not typing the letter ‘e’ in any post or comments on FB for a week. It’s hard.

Day 44: Watch Anna last night. A Luc Besson film that starts a kick-ass suprermodel. It’s right down my street. Today I have been lazy af. I need to pick up my online learning again…tomorrow, maybe! I watched Andy Murray Resurfacing. A documentary on Amazon. Fantastic. What a top man he is. Completely human and completely inhuman!

Day 45: Much talk in the news of possible lockdown relaxation. I am off the opinion we should stay the course until we are completely assured of beathing this thing i.e. a working, widely available vaccine. Dad and I Skyped - he is doing well, as usual. So is Rita. They both seem very happy in lockdown! Today has been a glorious day, weather wise. I had my walkk at 10ish this morming and it was very warm. Hottest day of the year so far I reckon.

Day 46: Bank holiday Friday (75th anniversary of VE day). Nice walk. Chat with Karen letting her know about being caught speeding just in case I am banned and need some out of town shopping. Watched second episode of DEVS by Alex Garland. It’s good and intriguing. Now, @7pm, gonna eat and hit the beers and smokes.

Day 47: Typing this at 15:45 on day 48. I had lots of beers and a good old chat with Rog…

Day 48: Today’s daily press conference was eagerly anticipated today with rumours of a relaxation in lockdown. It seems it was a fuss about nothing with no clear instructions - I didn’t watch it but, skimming the BBC news site, I shan’t be doing anything different over the next few weeks, not that I would anyway - furlough and self isolation are the order of the day and I won’t change that until I am sure it’s safe. Meanwhile people, including Danny flaunt the rules, it’s been pointed out to me plus I know he spends time with Jonah and Marc. It really fucks me off. So, the actions of the few mean I will lock myself down for as long, if not longer, as it takes. Attended Sam Clews quiz again. It passes the time. Also, I had half a scotch bonnet chilli with tea tonight (roasted veg, cous cous and sausages). Ridiculously hot!

Day 49: Received the speaker I ordered a few days ago (from eBay). It’s an AudioPro Addon T10. I got it for a very reasonable price from a German shop. As a result, the power lead isn;t three pin and that has seriously fucked me right off!

Meanwhile, I did my 26 stair climb before my daily walk today. It was easier than usual (surprise surprise) and I did 7km - but that was tough! ‘Cos I am on (yet another) free trial of Amazon Prime, I am ramping up watching stuff available. Last night I watched Booksmart - really nice little film with a great soundtrack. I am listening to Dan the Automater as I type. Today I watched half (3 eps) of The Night Manager and the film ‘The Founder’. The former is a superb series, the latter an OK film about Ray Kroc - the supposed founder of McDonald’s. Except he wasn’t; he was the wrong side of ambitious and a cunt.

Day 50: Stripped the 2 pin cable from the speaker I received yesterday and wired up a 3 pin plug and it worked. Win. And it sounds great. Win-win. Went to go shopping in Hampton but the car wouldn’t start. Loss. But it was the battery so I managed to borrow Karen’s jump starter which worked. Win.

Spent £107. Loss. But just under £40 was booze plus £10 for two big pizzas, two sides (dirty fries) and some dips. Win. Didn’t do any online learning - seriously fucking letting myself down. Loss.

Did my usual walking and 26 stair climb. The latter is hard but defo getting easier. Win. Day 51: Sam’s 51st birthday on day 51 - coincidence! Today I received my face mask from Lou - House of Stewart tartan. I’m pleased with it and that I have got a mask now. I managed to get up at a reasonable hour, just left 09:00, and revisit my web design course. Module 1, lesson 5 and I am fucking stuck. Trying to code an online CV with a side nav bar and I cannot get it to fucking work. Grrrrrr. Later, i got into a FB dispute (easily distracted due to the above) with someone over his statement of fact (Tim Martin’s treatment of Whetherspoons’ employees) when he doesn’t know it’s fact. It probably is, but that is not the fucking point.  I wish I could leave these sort of spats alone. I am drinking, at 20:45, peppermint tea as I type. Jeez, what’s happened to me?

Day 52: Well, last night took a swift chnage. Rog message me and, to cut a long story short, I hit the beers, also called Foggy later, got trashed. I got up today at gone 1pm. Sam posted on fb that Paul had forgort her birthday yesterday. Oh dear! The 26 stair climb and walking each day is noticeable for how knackered my legs feel all the time, I noticed today!

Day 53: My birthday! Nice comments and banter of FB. Rachael brought round a bottle of whisky; gobsmacked. Karen popped round some beers and sausage rolls. Sam sent a card, as did dad with a £50 cheque. Dan’s ordering me a pizza later.

Chuffed! Day 54: I went to bed late after a lot of beers, huge pizza and chips, a few smokes and a long call with WWJ and video chats with Fog then Rog. Got up around 1pm and dossed with my usual exercises and I made fish pie with a scotch bonnet. Day 55: Late one last night but up early today (11ish). Really fretting about hospital tomorrow. Nervous anyway but the safety aspect, in terms of Covid-19, isn’t helping.

Day 56: Hospital appointment was just for an eye scan so the consultant can review it. I was very surprised to see how few people were wearing face masks! I did two lots of washing today. (After the hospital) I went to Morrsions, Asda (queue too long though), B&M (queue too long though) then Tesco’s. All to buy a baseball cap ‘cos I’m fucked if I’m going to wet my hair each time I go out and want it to look presentable! In Morrsions (no mens’ clothing apart from underwear!) I stocked up of 10 cans of sugarfree apple Caraboa….I was only thinking of this drink just the other day. Yesterday I finished The Night Manager on Amazon. I liked it a lot but, also, expected much, much more from it consdiering the hype. Hugh Laurie has come a long way from comedy sketches with Stephen Fry!

Day 57:Received an email from Sueanne yesterday asking ( as designated spokesperson for everyone) how I am. The most interestring piece of news in a rather uninformative email was that the US has started to open resorts!

Day 58: I am writing this on Day 59. I started a two walk a day regime. The first walk I do is shorter, around 4km. my aim is to be ready for 1,000,000 steps Diabetic UK challenge (throughout July, August and September). I need to do just under 11,000 steps a day. The relaxation in ld rules makes this achievable. On that score, I am allowed to visit a friend’s house, as long as it’s just the two of us, outside, 2m apart. I went round Karen’s last night. I was desperate to have a Happy Hour (I allow myself a midweek beer - today (well, yesterday) is/was Wednesday!) of sorts with another human (rather than a video chat). I was there for about 2 hours, very enjoyable, and then came home. Then I had usual roasted veg with rice and sausages but I couldn’t eat it. I used half a scotch bonnet rather than the usual birdeye chillis. It was too hot, had to sling it! Had a few more beers and, hence, neglected my diary duties!

Day 59: It’s 01:20am. I don’t know why I am still awake and up, but I am. But, also, I am now going to bed. Nothing else to report, really.

Day 60: Half way through 12 weeks furlough. I was discussing this with Dad and Rita earlier - I am expecting that, at the end of 12 weeks, I’ll be laid off. I hope I’m wrong but I reckon it’s well on the cards. Off to have a beer round Karen’s in a sec which will be pleasant. Just a hour or so. It’s fucking windy today so I shall wrap up!

[cole-grey-writes]

Marriage Broker

Universe: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Timeline: Post-Spider-Man: Homecoming

Character(s): Wanda Maximoff, Peter Parker, Natasha Romanov

Pairing(s): Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader (platonic), Peter Parker x Male Reader

Warning(s): swearing

Request: Can you do a platonic Wanda x Avenger!Male reader where she realizes the reader is into Peter Parker and she sets them up but neither of them realize what’s she’s doing until it’s done?

A/n: yay, another request! Sorry for the absolutely long wait, and wow this is really long. But I’m so very happy that you guys like my writing. I really enjoy writing for you guys so pls keep sending me requests : D and thank you for waiting for so long. Hope you enjoy!

Wanda watches as you smile down at your phone. The corners of your eyes are crinkled, your face warm with blush. Wanda eyes you for a moment longer before she crosses the kitchen. She sits at the table, taking the seat across from you. She asks you, “What’s got you so happy?”

You look up, smiling at Wanda while not-so-subtly hiding your phone in your lap. “Good morning, bestie,” you greet her.

You and Wanda met back in 2015, during the whole Ultron business. Even though the two of you didn’t interact much at the time, after the dust had settled and cleared and Wanda had become an official member of the avengers, you came together naturally and started hanging out on a regular basis. You had plenty to bond over because of your close proximity in age and the fact that you both had only just become avengers recently. You became best friends soon after.

“Good morning, Y/n,” Wanda greets back, linking her hands on the table while staring at you suspiciously. She goes to ask you about what's making you laugh so much, but is interrupted. A ping comes from the phone in your lap.

You instantly look down at it, completely forgetting about Wanda, and you erupt with laughter. You lift your hand to cover your mouth when you can’t help but laugh. Wanda has never seen you smile or laugh so… she can’t quite find the word for it. Gushingly, maybe, as if…

Wanda gasps and blurts, “You have a crush!”

Your laugh dies as you look up at Wanda sharply. “What?”

“You have a crush,” Wanda states again and you make a face in response, obviously trying to feign confusion.

“Pfff,” you scoff, waving your hands in a dismissive manner. “What? What do you mean? Me? A crush? Noo, thats-”

Wanda ignores you and asks, “Who is it?”

“What? It’s no one, Wanda, it’s-”

“I don’t believe you,” Wanda says, her accent drawled. She quickly reaches across the table and grabs ahold of your phone. You shout and tighten your grip, trying to keep it from her.

“Y/n, just give it-”

“No, Wanda, let go-”

“No fighting in the kitchen,” Natasha orders, popping up unexpectedly and out of nowhere. It makes you jump and unfortunately for you, Wanda wins the tug-a-war and is able to rip the phone out of your hands. Wanda shouts in victory.

You pout, whining, “Nat!”

Natasha doesn’t turn around from where she’s eating blueberries she got from the fridge, her back facing you. “Don’t blame me for your butterfingers.”

Sighing, you try to get Wanda to give you back your phone but she doesn’t budge. She simply smiles and begins going through your texts. You cross your arms and continue to pout while waiting for her to be done.

It isn’t long before Wanda makes a show of gasping, causing you to blush and look down at your lap. “You really like him,” it's not a question and you can’t tell if that’s worse than if she was asking. You glare, but there’s no heat behind it and you know Wanda knows that.

Natasha, still not looking at you two and instead messing around on her phone, asks, “Who do you like?”

You don’t answer, don’t even acknowledge that she’s said anything, so Wanda tells her, “Peter Parker,” in a sing sing tone.

Natasha smirks. “Spider Jr?” she wonders coyly, even though you and Wanda know she knows who Peter is, and that she knows you both know she knows (which is confusing, but you get the point).

“Yes!” Wanda confirms happily. Groaning from embarrassment, you snatch your phone back, sliding it in your pocket so she has no way of trying to take it again. “Why don’t you ask him out?”

You debate continuing to play dumb but figure she’s already come this far, so there’s no point. You shrug instead, saying, “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Wha-” Wanda stutters, “it is a big deal, Y/n, this-”

“I almost forgot,” Natasha interrupts, walking over to stand in front of the table so she can look down at you. “You’re needed for a mission briefing with Steve and Thor on the third floor. Starts in thirty minutes, so you better suit up quick. Fury wouldn’t appreciate your tardiness,” and then she sits down with her blueberries and gets back to whatever’s on her phone.

You sigh, standing while grabbing your half filled water bottle and breakfast plate. You drop off your plate in the sink, but keep your water with you.

Wanda’s eyes follow you the whole time. “Y/n,” she says, trying to argue.

“No, Wanda, crushing from afar is just better, alright?” you tell her, pausing on your way out. You shake you head, letting out a defeated sigh. “Saves me from the humiliation.”

Wanda frowns, watching you leave. She can only wonder what she can do for you. Wanda’s never been in a relationship either, so she’s not sure of all the ropes. All she knows is that she wants to help you get the guy.

Next to her, Natasha types away on her phone. The soft clicking noise grabs Wanda’s attention. Wanda is suddenly struck with an idea.

She leans closer to Natasha, smiling sweetly. “Hey, Nat?”

Natasha looks up from her phone. She smirks.

There's a reason Natasha’s skills are never doubted (may the devil have mercy on the poor soul that does doubt her) because when Natasha smirks at Wanda like that, she knows she’s already won the game.

It’s almost too easy. Wanda comes up with the best strategy while you’re away on your mission with Steve and Thor. The only hard part was waiting for those five days for you to get back so she could set her plan into action. And once you did get back, Wanda was instantly in your face about hanging out as soon as possible.

“Wanda,” you interrupt, setting down your bags. You turn to her. “I’ve only been back for five minutes. I have bruises the size of Manhattan, and I’m fucking exhausted. Let me rest.”

Wanda sighs, pretending to pout. “I know you just got back,” she tells you, “but I just… it’s just being away from you for five days made me realize we don’t hang out enough anymore.”

You sigh and flop back down on your bed. “Look, can we talk about this later? I’m really-”

“Friday,” Wanda says suddenly, “friday is a perfect day to hang out.”

“Wanda, no-”

“We can go to a deli shop. You’ve been wanting to try one for a while,” which isn’t a total lie. You have been wanting to go to a deli shop, just not the one Wanda’s referring to. Wanda’s not even able to take credit for the meeting place. Natasha had done some sleuthing for her and found out Peter goes to a specific deli shop after school every day.

“No, that’s not-”

“We’ll meet there at 3:30 sharp,” Wanda tells you, leaving before you can protest further.

All the pieces fell perfectly in order once Wanda had you on board. All Wanda had to do after that was just wait for friday to come (while simultaneously avoiding you so you couldn’t back out, but you know, you didn’t need to know that).

Wanda did just that and when friday came around, she went down to the deli half an hour early to get the rest of her plan set up. Wanda grabbed a seat in a corner where she has eyes one everything.

It wasn’t long before you arrived right on time, exactly 3:30. Wanda watches you look around for her, though she has no doubt you won’t find her. She’s dressed in a foolproof disguise: hair pulled back in a cap and glasses resting on her nose. Steve suggested it, and it always seems to work for him.

You sigh, picking a spot to the side that is out of the way to stand in while pulling out your phone.

You [3:31 PM] where are you?

Wanda pulls out her phone to answer you, waiting a few seconds wanting for it to seem believable.

Wanda [3:32 PM] ill be there soon

You [3:32 PM] i thought we were supposed to meet at 3:30 sharp

Wanda [3:33 PM] that was for you

Wanda can hear you scoff but chooses to not look in your direction.

She tells you she’s with Natasha at the moment. It’s a known fact that mentioning Natasha will always get people off your back.

Wanda [3:34 PM] just go find a seat for us

You put your phone back in your pocket and head over to a table. You barely take one step before you bump into someone. You gasp and start to apologize before stopping. Wanda smirks when she sees the curly brown hair, watching you two the whole time.

“Y/n,” Peter gasps, eyes wide.

“Peter,” you gasp back, pleasantly surprised. Peter smiles and you blush.

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, before he realizes how that sounds. “I mean, I didn't mean it in that way, I just come here everyday after school and I've never seen you here before. Not that you can’t be here, I mean…” Peter stops himself, face a red, hot volcano.

You giggle, saying, “Likewise.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here?”

“I was planning to meet Wanda here for a late lunch.”

“Oh,” Peter nods. “Um, where is she?”

“With Nat, apparently, but she said she’ll be here soon, so,” Peter smiles and nods while you stare at him and blush. You stutter, “Well, um, you know, you-you could join us, if you want.”

Peter looks surprised. “I-I would love, uh, really like to join you for your late lunch, if it wouldn’t be a bother.”

You smile. “What? No, of course it’s not a bother, Pete, not at all. I was just about to find a seat, actually.”

“Oh, well, I actually know the perfect seats for us,” Peter leads you over to a booth only a few tables away from where Wanda is seated. You and Peter begin talking but you’re talking too softly for Wanda to hear what you’re saying. Luckily, she can read your lips. You talk mostly about avenging, specifically the recent mission you, Steve, and Thor went on, just easy conversation.

Not that it matters anyway because a waitress is immediately in front of you two, wondering what she could get you to drink. When you two are done answering, the waitress says, “Alright, well, I’ll be right back with those drinks for the lovely couple,” while smiling a toothy grin and walking away from the chaos she left behind.

Wanda can see you and Peter’s cheeks flush dark with blood. You can’t help but smile and cover your mouth. She watches intently while wringing her hands repeatedly, hoping her plan works.

You both try to go back to regular conversation, but it’s shifted now. You cover your entire face with your hands, scrubbing up and down, trying to get the blush to go away before Peter’s hands are suddenly pulling yours away from your face.

Wanda watches, holding her breath. Peter is saying something, but he’s looking down at the table so Wanda can’t make it out, but it makes you smile and laugh. Wanda can’t remember a time when you’ve looked happier.

Peter is smiling and laughing along with you. You reach across the table, tangling your fingers in the hair on the back of Peter’s neck. You lean across the table and softly press your lips against his.

Wanda can’t contain her squeals. This, of course, causes your eyebrows scrunch. You look in Wanda’s direction. Wanda gasps, jumping back in her booth and hiding under the table by laying down on the seat hopefully before you could spot her. She waits for a reasonable amount of time before she allows herself to sneak a peak over the table, where you and Peter sitting across from her.

“Hey, Wanda,” you greet her while Peter sits next to you with a knowing smile.

“Oh,” Wanda says, sitting up straight. “I guess you were bound to find out eventually,” You and Peter nod at that. “How exactly did you know I was setting you two up?”

“The waitress kinda tipped me off,” you tell her. “Her thinking we’re a couple right after you busted me for having a crush on Pete? Please.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I had no idea,” Peter says. You snort and lean a little closer to him. “I'm grateful, though.”

You smile at him, blush, and then turn to Wanda. “I am also very grateful for your help.”

“Well, that's a relief,” she says, then, “now, pay up.”

“Pay up? What are we paying for?” you ask her, sharing a confused look with Peter.

“You didn’t think I was setting you up for free, did you?”

You scoff, mouth hanging wide open. “We didn’t know you were setting us up in the first place!”

“All the more reason to pay me finely for my services,” Wanda holds out her hands. “Fifty each, please.”

“Fifty?” you question, still shocked. “Why do you need a hundred dollars for this?”

“Oh, I don't. I only need fifty, but I need the other fifty for Nat because she helped.”

You and Peter exchange looks and begin pulling out your wallets, causing Wanda to smile in victory. “Fine,” you say, slapping the fifty in her hand, “but you're paying for lunch.”

(NOT MY GIFS)

Main Blog // Other Side Blog

((NO ONE HAS MY PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WORK ANYWHERE EVEN WITH CREDIT))

[euphoric-melancholyy]

The Secrets We Keep

I’m on a personal vendetta against “May’s abusive boyfriend” trope so I thought it would be fun to give May a really awesome, loving boyfriend who’s just a little confused as to why she lets her teenage son stay out til 1 every night and sleep somewhere else every weekend. Also, he’s friends with Tony Stark? Chris - May’s new boyfriend -  feels like he’s missing something here. 

I’m posting this instead of a fic rec today

Also on Ao3 and Fanfiction.net

May Parker hadn’t planned on stepping back into the dating scene, but then again she hadn’t planned on most of the important life events that seemed to shape her. His name was Chris. He was handsome, tan with dark hair and scruff that couldn’t quite be called a beard yet, and hooded green eyes that all the hospital patients commented on. Chris worked alongside her at Queens Memorial, exchanging quips about 90s pop culture and recipes to actually cook for Peter. He cared for his patients with a rare sensitivity to their needs, always trying to brighten their day and learn a little bit about what makes them happy.  Like her, he was a widower, having lost his wife eight years prior to cancer. And she hadn’t planned on him crashing her little bubble, being a balm for the isolation of raising a super-powered kid who seemed to attract danger like a magnet. Not that she could tell Chris that. 

But even so, he soothed her worries when Peter was out on patrol and being with him felt like relearning how to breathe. It felt euphoric, and scary and soothing and exciting all at once. She wasn’t sure when she had last smiled as much as she did when Chris entered the picture. It didn’t go unnoticed by Peter either, her newfound giddiness after long days at work now more commonplace than exhaustion. 

After three dates, she tells her nephew, nervously twirling spaghetti around her fork as she awaits his reaction. 

His eyes brighten as she speaks and he puts down his fork, eagerly leaning forward as she tells him about the Italian dinner he made for them on their last date. “That’s great, May! As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. I know Ben would feel the same way, by the way." 

Peter’s lips are pressed together in a soft smile and she’s not sure why she’d been so worried to tell him. Pride overwhelms her in that moment, of who he is and his kindness, his inability to let the little guy suffer when he knows he can help. She might not love that he’s risking his life as Spider-Man, but she can still be proud of him for it. It coils in her chest with the near constant ebb of fear, but it’s warm and inviting and she’s not sure how she got to raise the best kid in the universe.  

"He’d be so proud of you, Pete.” She beams at him before eating a forkful of spaghetti.  “Spider-kid.”

“It’s Spider-Man, May.” He protests. “You sound like Mr. Stark when you make those nicknames.”

“Oh, we can’t have me sounding like him, now can we?”

“You already tag team me like divorced parents who stay friends, so I don’t see why not.”

“It’s called co-parenting,” she responds and Peter rolls his eyes. 

“So when can I meet this Chris?” Peter asks and she doesn’t even try to stifle her smile at his eagerness. She might not be able to help him with homework or any of his Spider-Man activities, but this - this she can handle.

-/-/-

They set ground rules. The first and most important rule is that Chris can’t know Peter’s Spider-Man, at least not for awhile. It means Peter can’t leave his suit lying around or continue crawling on the ceiling out of boredom or stress or whatever reason he decides it’s a better place to pace than the floor. 

They also agree not to tell Chris that he spends half his week with the Tony Stark. 

(“People at school already tease me about it being fake and I don’t care, but…it isn’t normal for a random teenager to just hang out with Mr. Stark. And what if he connects Spider-Man? Then that puts him in danger too and I just, I- I don’t want him to know yet May.”) 

This is a secret May still thinks she can handle — at least, for a time. If asked, she says that Peter has an internship with Happy Hogan.

And, in some weird twist of fate he never wants to experience again, Peter finds himself giving the talk. He’s beat red the whole time, cheeks flushed as he stammers through his explanation. 

(“May, I-I have enhanced senses and um, I can hear your heartbeat. And I can hear a - hear a conversation happening two blocks over right now. So like, if - if he’s gonna spend the night, or something, please for the love of my innocence, let me be at the Compound. Or- or just tell me. I need a heads-up.”

“If your hearing is actually that good, I’m sure you’ve heard worse.”

“Yeah, but not from you and I never want to.”)

-/-/-

The second rule is broken three weeks after Peter meets Chris. Though they get along famously, Peter usually isn’t around when Chris is at the apartment. It isn’t planned, he’s just busy and overcommitted. At this point, it’s only his third time being in the older man’s presence.

They’re all at the table together, eating lasagna that Chris had made when Tony knocks on the door and May answers. 

“Ah, Ms. Parker, lovely to see you as always. Mind if I borrow Peter for a few days? It’s for,” he glances at Chris and gives a signature fake smile and nod, “Internship stuff.”

“Uh, Mr. Stark, what are you - what are you doing here?” Peter asks, his voice getting higher the more he talks. “I thought Happy was coming, not that it isn’t great to see you. It is I just - I-”

“Happy’s in the car, kid.” Tony says, smiling to himself at Peter’s nervous rambling. 

May sighs and side steps, inviting him in while Peter gets a bag together. “If anything happens to my kid Stark, I will personally come and kill you. FRIDAY will let me in and you won’t even see it coming.” She keeps her face stern for a moment, then breaks into a wide grin. “Chris, meet Tony Stark. Tony meet Chris."  

Chris is unsurprisingly starstruck and confused, stumbling over his words in a way that May finds to be the most adorable thing she’s ever seen. "Hi, uh, hi. You’re I-You’re here? And you’re Iron Man. And Peter?” he stops mid-ramble and extends his hand. Tony takes it. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Stark.”

“Likewise. Peter’s told me a lot about you. Speaking of, kid, hurry up. I don’t have all day." 

Peter runs back into the common area, backpack in tow and wearing his suit, sans mask, under his clothes. The red spandex peaks out at his wrists. Tony cocks an eyebrow at his protege.  

"What?” the teen asks. 

“Nothing. Let’s go." 

Peter kisses May on the cheek, promising to be safe and update her three times a day, before following his mentor out the door. 

-/-/-

The next night, they’re curled up on the couch together with May’s head on Chris’s chest and legs intertwined. The news plays softly in the background but May isn’t really paying attention. 

"So when were you gonna tell me that you’re BFFs with a billionaire? With Iron Man himself?” Chris asks, running his fingers through her hair. There isn’t anything accusatory in his tone and May cuddles closer to him. 

“We’re not BFFs. He mentors Peter sometimes with… science stuff. It all goes over my head. Peter asked me not to mention it. He doesn’t like drawing attention to himself." 

"And Iron Man just whisked Peter off to. . ?” he lets his question trail off. 

“Some nerdy science conference in Italy.”

“Damn, that’s-” he pauses, looking at the TV and pointing. On the screen, there’s a breaking news alert about The Avengers fighting another alien army, because apparently normal villains went out of style in 2012.  “Wait, that Italy?" 

She sees Peter, Spider-Man, next to The Hulk, Iron Man flying above as they fight off their oppressors. Everyone’s there - Cap and Widow and Iron Patriot and Hawkeye, but they are pulled away to another part of the fight. They’ve been fighting for at least half an hour when she watches as Spider-Man is thrown into a building. The bricks break with the impact and it begins to cave and she swears she stops breathing for a moment. It’s another five minutes before she sees him again, red and blue swinging around and webbing up the aliens. Iron Man fires his repulsors at the last big baddie and Hulk smashes their foe’s head half a dozen times. 

"Don’t worry. I’m sure Peter’s fine,” Chris offers, his voice low and serious. “He’s at a conference, not fighting these monsters." 

"Yeah.” It’s barely above a whisper and she takes out her phone when she gets a message from Peter. 

Don’t worry. I’m okay. It’s gonna take more than that to take me out. Tony is going all “dad mode” on me. It’s embarrassing. 

May looks up to the TV to see Iron Man cradling an injured Spidey and flying them to their jet. She smiles and types out a response. 

I can see that. You did great, Pete. Take an ice bath or something, that looked like it hurt. Love you.

“He’s fine,” she says, grabbing the remote and turning off the TV. 

“Told you,” Chris quips, leaning in to kiss her. It’s soft and it calms her nerves in a way she can’t explain. “So, you know Iron Man, but who’s your favorite Avenger?”

“I’m partial to Spider-Man. He is Queens’ local vigilante after-all." 

"May Parker, a Spider-Man fan,” he teases. She throws a pillow at him. 

-/-/-

“Shouldn’t Peter be home by now?” Chris asks one night. May glances at the time on her phone. It reads 12:33 a.m. 

“He has until 1 a.m.”

“Isn’t that kinda late? I mean he’s only sixteen - he could get seriously hurt out there. Or partying and drinking his weight in-”

“He’s fine, Chris. Peter’s a good kid. I trust him.” She looks towards his bedroom door. It’s shut so he can just silently swing in. The crime has been quieter lately - thank god. No alien attacks or evil mutant who has it out for her kid. “His curfew goes back to 11:30 once school starts up." 

Chris looks skeptical, but he’s not about to tell her how to raise her nephew. "Whatever you say.”

-/-/-

Peter’s body aches, muscles throbbing with the all-enveloping pain of post battle. Blood trickles down from around his left eye, which is now swollen shut. He cries, a short high pitched wince as he comes back into consciousness, his body pressing against a pile of rubble. 

A sharp pain erupts at his most definitely broken ribs and he bites down another cry. He could hear someone calling his name in the distance, their voice muffled as if they were screaming underwater. 

“Peter! Spider-Man!" 

Peter groans, opening his eye as he tries to recall where he is but there’s a glint of red and gold blocking his sight. 

"T'ny?”

“Yeah, bud. You blacked out there for a few minutes and I thought I’d come get you.”

“I’m o-” His word is caught on a hiss of pain as Tony lifts him into his arms and Peter curls into himself. “Shit.”

“Maybe don’t become a ragdoll for steampunk Ursula next time, okay?”

“Wha?”

“Otto Octavious - madman with mechanical arms. I’ll explain it to you when you’re more coherent. Pretty sure you have a concussion.”

Peter wakes later in the dim light of the medbay. Mr. Stark sits in a recliner next to him, checking and promptly ignoring his emails. Peter’s head throbs, his left eye still swollen shut, his body aching, but it’s duller than before, the pull of drugs making his mind fuzzy. He’s been stripped of his suit and looks down to find he’s wearing an old MIT hoodie of Tony’s and…his Hello Kitty pajama pants, great. 

“Four broken ribs, a concussion, a skull fracture, and of course there’s that eye - I’ll get you an eye patch and you can cosplay as Nick Fury.” Tony remarks, looking to the kid. 

“Better that than these pajamas. Really, Mr. Stark?”

“Punishment for scaring the shit out of me,” he says with a smirk, but the rest of his face betrays his cool demeanor. There’s worry lines etched into his expression that furrow his brow and dark bags under his eyes. His hair is disheveled and Peter has the urge to reach out and fix it, but decides that would be weird. It’s strange to see his mentor like this, so unguarded and worried, and not TV ready. Tony isn’t even trying to hide it, which seems to be the worst part for Peter.  He hates that he caused this.

“I’m sorry. Thanks, for - for saving me.” Peter says with a sheepish smile. 

“Don’t mention it,” Tony says, reaching a hand out to ruffle his hair. Peter leans into the touch. “Actually do. Please mention it to your lovely Aunt. She gets off at two tonight so I’m gonna drive you back. Don’t worry, I’m sending some Captain America level narcotics with you for all that,” his hand makes a circle in the air, gesturing to Peter’s everything. 

Peter gets home at 1:45, the hood of Tony’s sweatshirt pulled over his head in a sad attempt to hide his eye and some dry blood caked into his hairline. The smell of homemade pizza overwhelms his senses before he even walks in the apartment. It’s odd, May rarely cooks especially in the middle of the night. 

“Hey hon,” Chris calls as Peter walks through the door. He’s standing in the kitchen, looking in the oven. “I thought I’d make you some dinner befo- oh my god Peter!”

Peter freezes, trying to stifle the panic that’s bubbling in his chest. Chris is already by his side less than a second later, hesitantly pushing the hood off Peter’s head and examining his eye with a concerned what the hell happened? 

“Uhh…I was jumped? Yeah. Jumped. I was jumped.” 

Chris considers him for a minute, soft gaze searching Peter’s in a way that makes him uncomfortable, like he’s learning something new. “C’mere,” Chris’s says, voice low and laced with so much concern that Peter doesn’t even protest as he follows him to the couch. 

“I already went to the doctor. Mr. Stark took me. Really Chris, it’s okay. I’m fine.”

“Even if you already went, I’m worried and I’m a doctor, and I’d feel a lot better if you let me look. Please, Peter.” 

The way he says Peter, it’s not unlike how Tony says his name sometimes, like a whispered prayer for him to be okay, and it breaks his resolve. Slowly, Peter lifts the hoodie over his head and tosses it to the floor. Chris gasps and it’s full of surprise and fear and all the emotions Peter wanted to avoid for at least a week, and Peter chances a look down. His torso is littered in bruises of varying shades and there’s a cut along his stomach. He can feel the medicine Dr. Cho gave him wearing off and it hurts. 

“Pete,” the older man whispers, hands held in suspension above Peter’s ribs, like he wants to touch them but he’s terrified of causing anymore pain. “Your ribs…You-”

“They’ll be fine in a few days. I have a concussion too, so can I just,” Peter sighs, resting his head against the back of the couch. It’s soft and comforting and he’s just so ready for this day to be over. “Go to bed, please?”

The door opens in that moment and May walks in. She’s wearing blue scrubs and her hair is tied in a loose ponytail. Immediately she locks eyes with Peter, and her face crumbles as she rushes over.  “Peter, baby! I- Tony said you were in a fight, but this…”

“I’m fine, May. Really. It really wasn’t a big deal. It’s not even worth worrying over.”

May shoos Chris to the side and sits down in between them. Her eyes run over Peter in a professional way, ending on his swollen eye. One of her hands goes to cup his cheek, “Okay, first off you cannot possibly say it’s not a big deal when you look like this. What did Dr. Cho say?” Her thumb brushes over his temple and a scowl replaces her worried look. As if wanting to prove her point, a gut-clenching pain shoots through him and he pulls his knees to his chest, sucking in air when his ribs protest painfully.

“A couple of broken ribs, skull fracture…” Peter whispers, wishing his metabolism didn’t work its way through all the painkillers in five minutes. 

“And a concussion,” Chris reminds, his hand resting on May’s knee.

They look like a team, Peter thinks, and May’s presence had calmed Chris’s erratic heartbeat the moment she came home. The idea elicits pangs of guilt on top of everything - guilt at the lies he and May have concocted to keep his identity of Spider-Man safe. He wonders how hard it’s been on May and Chris’s relationship, how many white lies she’s had to tell, but he pushes the thought down and focuses on the throbbing in his head instead. At least that can be dealt with, he thinks, and asks May to get his medicine from his backpack. She hands it to him with a sad gleam in her eyes. It makes him want to crawl under the nearest blanket and hide from their sympathetic glances. 

“Really May, it’s nothing I can’t handle. Just everyday stuff,” Peter tries to reassure her. 

“Peter, you were jumped,” Chris says, his tone serious. “That’s not an everyday thing, or at least I hope not. It’s a big deal and it’s scary. Your ribs are broken for god’s sake. Your eye is swollen shut. I just-” Chris pauses, looking down at the cut along Peter’s ribs. May’s brows furrow in confusion at the mention of Peter being jumped, but she quickly schools her expression. 

May sighs. “We’ll let you get some rest, okay superhero?” She offers her hand to help Peter get up. He takes it and stands. “Call if you need anything. We’ll be right here.”

“Thanks May. Thank you, Chris.”

He’s asleep not even ten minutes later, lulled by the concerned whispers of May and Chris from two rooms over. When he wakes the next morning, his body is sore, but his eye is almost back to normal. 

-/-/-

Five months have passed when May wakes to the shrill of “Iron Man” by Black Sabbath playing from her phone at 3 a.m. Peter had thought it’d be funny to set it as her ringtone for when Tony called and she never got around to changing it back. Her bedroom is coated in darkness, save for the light from her phone and she squints at it. Chris is wrapped around her like a koala, arm slung over her stomach and lips pressed to the back of her shoulder. 

“ ‘Ello,” she yawns as she answers, her eyelids drooping and the remnants of sleep threatening to pull her back in.

“May,” Tony’s says, his voice serious and raw with emotion that she’s never heard from the billionaire and it scares her, wiping away all the tiredness and replacing it with fear. May shoots out of bed, trying to keep her breath even but it fails. “Peter’s alive, first off, so don’t worry about that. He’s okay, kind of, well, he will be. He’s - he was shot earlier on patrol - twice. The damn kid. And Happy is on his way to get you, he should be there in ten minutes, so-”

“Peter was shot?” she whisper-screams, the words knocking the air from her lungs. And she can’t help it, the way her mind immediately goes to Ben on that fateful night, Peter at the police station covered in her late husband’s blood, silent sobs racking his body. The edges of a panic attack seeps in at the memory and her heart is going to beat out of her chest and she can’t breathe, she can’t breathe, can’t breathe, can’t-

She hears someone call her name, but she isn’t sure where she is anymore, and her mind takes her back to that first night without him, an inconsolable Peter wrapped around her muttering apologies between broken sobs. Peter didn’t go to sleep until noon the next day. She’s at Ben’s funeral, and there’s flowers everywhere - bright and vibrant and sickening wisps of color among black suits and dresses and her husband’s cold body. Everyone comes up and shakes her hand, offering words of comfort and food, but she doesn’t want any of it. Peter’s at her side and she squeezes his hand, tries to reassure him (and herself) that it’ll be okay. Peter nods, his eyes red and his motions slow and robotic and Peter-

Peter. This is about Peter. Peter’s been shot. 

Her world comes back into focus and she sees Chris kneeling in front of her, sleep mussed hair and wide green eyes full of concern. His thumb wipes at a tear on the apple of her cheek and she presses the phone to her ear. Tony is still talking, telling her to breathe and that Peter’s okay and Happy’s almost there.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out a sob. “Tony, I…”

 “It’s okay. He’s gonna be okay. He has to be okay,” he pauses. “Do you want me to stay on the line?”

She leans her head on Chris and her eyes flutter closed. He wraps his arms around her and it’s grounding. Peter’s alive. Peter isn’t Ben. Peter’s alive. She repeats it over and over, a silent mantra and she realizes both Chris and Tony are waiting for a response. “I…” she speaks into her phone. “Chris is here. I- I’m okay,” May hangs up and turns her attention to Chris. 

“Peter was shot. He - I have to go. I - Happy, he’s outside I gotta-”

“Let me go with you,” Chris says. And god, she wants him too. She wants to curl into his side in the car and tell him everything, but she knows she can’t do that to Peter. Not right now. He asked her to keep his identity safe, to keep Chris safe, and that’s the least she can do when her nephew is out saving the world every night. 

“I need you to stay at the apartment, please I- I know you want to come, but I need you here. I’ll be back in a few days. I just - I’m sorry, I need to go.” She kisses him, soft and quick and rushes out the door before he can protest.  

-/-/-

Unable to process the night’s frightening turn of events, Chris is left standing at the doorway. He had called multiple hospitals looking for Peter, but none of them seemed to have anyone that matched his description. It wasn’t until May called the next morning saying that Peter was okay and recovering at the Avengers Compound, that he figured out why. 

Why is he at The Avengers Compound, May? That’s insane he had said, but she acted as if it was normal, saying that Tony preferred treating him there. When he asked about what happened, she said it was an unfortunate wrong place, wrong time, but that it didn’t matter now because he was okay. 

Now, five days later, Peter and May were coming home. He waits inside the apartment for them, pacing the living room as he cleans the countertops for the seventh time in the few days they’ve been gone. He can hear laughter down the hall and it takes him a moment to realize it’s them. Peter is rambling excitedly about something - he can’t tell what - and he stops as the door opens.  What he doesn’t expect is to see Tony Stark behind her, his arm around Peter’s shoulder, beaming at a perfectly healthy, energetic kid. It throws him for a loop how domestic they look. 

Like a family. 

And that’s when it hits him. The internship, the nights at the Compound, the easy banter, Stark taking care of him after he’s injured. Chris pauses his inner monologue, sweeping the group from head to toe with his gaze. “Wait…Is Peter Tony’s secret son or something?”

Fin 

[gleepotluckbigbang]

Coffee Shop Writing Prompts by @veronicabunchwrites

To start you guys off, a prompt list by @veronicabunchwrites. Veronica is no longer on Tumblr, only on Pillowfort, so I can’t reblog, only repost, sorry about that. The original post can be found here.

100 coffee shop au writing prompts!

there’s something about people meeting and falling in love over hot drinks that presents such a cozy atmosphere. it’s no wonder that it’s a favourite. some of these prompts are classic because who can resist the tried and true?

01.  clearly you’re going through a bad breakup because this playlist is the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard and I’m begging you please change it 02.  you’re my favourite employee because you always have my order ready on the days I’m running late to the office 03.  I order the same thing as my boss in case something happens to their coffee and one day, you write your number on the cup I give to my boss 04.  my friend swears that you can pick the perfect drink for anyone but I’m skeptical because there’s no way you can look at someone and just know their order - and of course, you nail my drink 05.  I run the shop beside your bookstore and I’m trying to convince you that it could be beneficial to knock down the wall between our shops and you’re being a big pain in the ass about it 06.  I hired you to make drinks not flirt with every customer that walks in and how dare you accuse me of jealousy, get back to work 07.  you were a dick to my coworker so I’ve been writing insults on your cups and why the hell do you keep coming back here anyway?

08.  I know you’re about to close and I swear I’ll give you a $20 tip, can you please just take my order? I’ve had the worst day possible 09.  a $20 tip isn’t worth me staying open late, but then you burst into tears and I end up asking you if you want to hang around to talk 10.  you’re the night manager who runs open mic nights and I’m the baker who starts at 3am so sometimes our paths cross and I like talking to you 11.  you never order the same thing more than once and just as you’re about to get to the end of the menu, I start adding new things because I’m afraid you’ll stop coming in 12.  I’ve been writing lame jokes on your cups because you’re the grumpiest person ever and you finally crack a smile 13.  you always get my order wrong and I’m pretty sure you’re doing it on purpose just so you get a free drink out of it because employees have a crap discount 14.  I’ve been working on this essay/project/article/etc. for the last ten hours and I’ve barely moved so you come over to give me something to eat and ask if I’m okay 15.  I’m dragged to open mic night by my best friend, and while I’m ordering my drink, your voice fills the room and I’m mesmerized 16.  there’s a poetry slam and while I’ve never gone on stage, I’m obsessed with your stuff 17.  you were rude so I insult you and you just left a $50 tip??? who the fuck do you think you are? 18.  I decided to use my personal (and massive) mug collection when I opened my shop and you start hanging around just to see which mug you’ll get 19.  I open a cat cafe with a separate room for the cats that are all available to adopt, and you keep coming in to sit with them even though you’re allergic 20.  I haven’t seen you in years but you just walked into my coffee shop and by your snooty attitude, you don’t seem to know that I own the place 21.  I really don’t care that you’re a famous celebrity, you will stand in line just like everyone else and that’s that 22.  this shop is really busy but I need their wifi, so could we share this table? 23.  we’re working on our school project in this cafe and I’m pretty sure my group just figured out that I have a crush on you 24.  I have a job interview and you're the clumsy employee who just spilled hot coffee all down my white shirt 25.  I’m on the worst blind/Tinder/Grindr date and you ‘accidentally’ dump a drink on my date to save me 26.  you’re a big city person visiting my tiny coffee shop in a small town and you’re so rude when you ask if we have cappuccinos that I lie and say no 27.  I just bumped into my ex so I slip my arm in yours to pretend you’re my current partner even though you were just standing in line behind me 28.  my umbrella broke and I just stepped into your shop soaking wet and you run upstairs to get me some towels from your apartment and I’m sorry I’m crying but this is the nicest thing that’s happened to me all week 29.  my AC isn’t working at my apartment so I’ve been spending most of my spare time here and using your wifi and I think you’re flirting with me 30.  I’ve been hanging out more because I sit at the counter to watch two baristas flirt (OT3 bonus!) / and you join me so we make a bet on when they’ll get together 31.  I named my coffee shop Coffee Shop and you’re the customer who loudly talks about how stupid the name is 32.  I’ve been sitting in the break room wondering how to ask you out on a date when you come in and announce you were just asked out by a customer (bonus if OT3!) 33.  you’re a famous celebrity who ducks in to my quiet shop and asks if you can hide, and I mean, sure, but are you going to order something? I have to make a living here, dude 34.  I know you own this place but dude, this song has been on repeat for the last hour and I will pay you to change it 35.  I’m really nervous as I’m meeting a family member for the very first time and you’re the kind employee who sits with me to help calm my nerves 36.  you’re staring at me and I don’t know why until you tell me I’ve been singing along to my music and I’m mortified because I didn’t realize 37.  I saw your Help Needed sign in the window and you look busy so where are the aprons and how can I help? 38.  every day I write a quote on a chalkboard on the wall and apparently you’re the author I just quoted but you’ve never shown your face in public before so why are you telling me? 39.  someone left a note in the suggestions box that the barista is the cutest person they’ve seen and I’m laughing as my coworkers discuss who it could be when you quietly admit it’s about me 40.  you just cut in front of me in line and I’m not in the mood to let it slide 41.  I noticed you were on ao3 reading smut and when you go up to get something else to drink from the counter, I realize you’re reading the fic I posted twenty minutes ago 42.  your dog and my dog just tangled their leashes outside the coffee shop and now they won’t leave each other’s sides, so do you want to join me at this table? 43.  I know it’s not my place but your teenager seems to be mixed up in a bad crowd and I thought you should know they’re hiding in the bathroom crying right now 44.  your father comes in weekly at the exact same time and orders the exact same two drinks because that’s what he used to do with your mother and you come looking for him 45.  I really need you to put up this flyer on the community board but you’re sort of being a prick about it 46.  you hire my band to come place on a weekly basis but the more time I spend with you the more time I want to kiss you 47.  you’re my ex who I’ve never really gotten over and you just surprised me by paying for my coffee and I’m not prepared to see you 48.  my coworker wrote my cell phone number on your cup when I wasn’t paying attention and now you’re texting me 49.  after overhearing you order the eccentric coffee shop owner’s drink of the week, I warn you that it never tastes good (bonus if you convince me it’s great this week so I sip and suffer with you) 50.  the last clue to my partner’s scavenger hunt is supposed to be here, and while I’m looking for it, I discover that you’re my partner’s friend who set the whole thing up (bonus: ot3) 51.  I sold my business for millions when I was in high school and tried to disappear from the spotlight but I’ve just been spotted drinking your coffee and feel bad since you’re overwhelmed with the sudden influx of new customers 52.  I overhear you talking to your friend about how you’re planning on meeting up with your ex and I can’t stop myself from butting in because that’s a bad mistake 53.  I’m hosting a food-eating contest to raise money for charity at my shop and you seem to have an endless stomach that makes me a little concerned 54.  I catch you in the act of placing your newspaper over a customer’s cell phone/wallet/etc. and then stealing it when they deny you money 55.  you walk into my coffee just before close looking like a runaway bride/groom/princess/prince/royalty so I stick around to keep you company 56.  meeting at the coffee shop feels like fate, but now we’re sitting here because I’m terrified to tell you my big secret 57.  you’re a grumpy customer who doesn’t talk but you always have the most fun tie/socks/dresses/sweaters/etc. and I look forward to see what you wear next 58.  I’ve been obsessed with your homemade soups and I always rave about them to the cashier but I didn’t realize you also make them until you surprise me with a new recipe 59.  I rent out your shop for the evening to propose to my significant other and they dump me on the spot 60.  I run a baking class one night a week after hours at my shop and you keep coming back despite being the worst baker ever 61.  you left me a bad review so I’m tracking you down to yell at you and demand a retraction 62.  you’re the contractor I’ve hired to build individual bathrooms so I can offer genderless options for people (bonus if contractor is trans/nb/gender queer) 63.  I host a board game night every Friday and you always come in with your best friend and ask me to teach you a new game and I cannot believe you’ve never played Life before (or: insert own game) 64.  I’ve been getting really creative with my foam art and I do some naughty-bits to amuse my coworker on their drink when you mistakenly take it and think I’m hitting on you 65.  I’m wiping down a table when I notice that you left a cell phone number on the back of your receipt for your lunch and I ask my coworker if I should text you (bonus if ot3) 66.  every time you come into my shop, I swear you have a new sticker on your laptop and I desperately want to ask about this one 67.  you come in to steal the shop’s wifi for video calls with your mom/dad/family member and when they see me in the background, they think I’m your new partner 68.  I really suck at my job but I desperately need the money and when I get fired for spilling your coffee all over you, you offer me a job because you feel bad 69.  we’re coworkers who make out in the supplies closet and get caught by another coworker (bonus if ot3!) 70.  someone enters my hot chocolate into a contest for the National Best Hot Chocolate and you’re the hot judge who gets snowed in town for a few days 71.  you join me at my table thinking I’m your blind date and you don’t stop talking about how nervous you are for this date so I don’t get a chance to tell you that you have the wrong person when your actual date comes up and thinks you were hitting on me while waiting for them 72.  I watch you pull out a flask and add alcohol to your drink and then you wink at me 73.  I’m playing a game on my computer but I keep failing at the level so you tap my shoulder and tell me how to beat it (and we spend the rest of the afternoon in the coffee shop bonding) 74.  I've been assigned a fluff article about the different types of people who spend their days at coffee shops but I can’t seem to figure out why you’re here (articles: x, x, x) 75.  I found you curled up under a blanket asleep at my front door so won’t you come in, I’ll get you some food and give you a job 76.  you’re my favourite actor in my favourite TV show but by the sounds of that phone call, you seem to be having a rough day so instead of flailing, I offer you some words of support 77.  I don’t know how to spell anyone’s names correctly so I spell them phonetically and you always mumble your name so I just make up something 78.  I bump into you and knock your coffee out of your hands and you look like someone just died because you’re having the worst week ever and can I make it up to you? 79.  we met online and you suggest this place for our first date and I’m terrified you’ve catfished me or you’re going to stand me up 80.  when people hit on me and ask for my number, I usually make up a number to put on their cups, and today I just happened to write your number on your cup so you call me out 81.  you’re my significant other’s ex and you’ve invited me to coffee to tell me that I can do better and our connection is immediate 82.  I’m in the middle of a rant about this book I’m reading and oh my god you’re the author in line behind me and I’m sorry, not sorry 83.  you take a selfie and I photobomb you, but you don’t notice until the entire photo goes viral so we agree to meet back at this coffee shop 84.  I’m sorry for laughing at you walking into the glass door/window, please let me help you up 85.  I’m a little concerned that you might be too addicted to coffee since you always come down from your office to my little shop to get your fix multiple times a day but my coworkers think you have a crush on me 86.  I’m expecting an important phone call but my phone is about to die and please, please let me borrow yours 87.  I know your sign says ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ but can I please give you a really long explanation as to what has led to me desperately needing coffee without a shirt or shoes 88.  I’m a witch barista and I charm your drink so that you have a better day 89.  I’ve been trying to borrow this particular book that the local/college library only has one copy of and I just realized you’re reading it at this coffee shop and goddammit, why haven’t you finished with it yet? 90.  some asshole just stole your purse/backpack without you noticing so I instinctively jump into action and chase him down the street to get it back for you 91.  you’ve cut in front of me in line for the last three days by shooting me a charming smile and leaving me a little dumbfounded but today, that will not fly 92.  I keep making work-related puns and you’re the grumpy coworker who refuses to find me charming 93.  you sit down at my table and quietly tell me to pretend we’re talking because you’re trying not to be seen by someone and I’m so confused as to what is going on but you’re cute so I’ll roll with it 94.  you order the same obscure drink from the app but I always miss you picking up your drink from the counter and today, I’m going to finally watch to see who you are 95.  I don’t know who you think you are, but you really can’t make this shop your office unless you’re going to order more than one tea for the eight hours you stay here 96.  you read tea leaves as a hobby so I always bring my cups to you when I’m finished 97.  you look like you’re having a bad day so I get some icing and draw a smiley face on your cookie 98.  I overheard you talking about how you wish my shop had board games so the next time you come in, I watch your reaction to my new shelf of board games 99.  you’re the very kind employee who brings me my favourite tea when you witness my public (and loud) breakup 100.  this coffee shop is owned and run by queer people and is so very gay with our decor and the names of our menu items, and I’m pretty sure you’re not as straight you think you are because you keep coming in and asking a thousand questions 101.  you dropped to your knee to tie your shoe but suddenly, people are congratulating us on getting engaged and we just scored free coffee so we roll with it 102. I’m wistfully watching a couple when you come up to the counter to order something and get frustrated with my daydreaming

[everlarkficexchange]

Prompt 33.

Written by: @wendywobbles

Prompt 33: “Where’s my engagement ring?” [submitted by @sunflowerslyf​]

“Where’s my engagement ring?” Katniss looked from her bare hand at her friend Johanna. Jo had popped into Katniss office with a coffee and they were chatting when suddenly Katniss realised her ring wasn’t on her finger. She spun on her chair and frantically started lifting things up from her desk.

“Relax” said Jo “I’m sure it’s here.” She started looking too, scouring the floor around the desk.  

It wasn’t in any of the usual spots.  Katniss Everdeen had a habit of taking off her ring when she was working, it annoyed her when she was typing and despite her colleagues warning that she was going to misplace it up to today she hadn’t….except that time she left it in the bathroom on the first floor and Leevy returned it two hours later or the time she left it on the kitchen window sill in Prim’s apartment, then that was the time she left it in the Mellark’s after dinner one Sunday. Old Edna, Peeta’s mum, had a field day with that “mark my words if she can leave this trinket behind so easily I dread to think what your marriage will be like” this was one of the nicer things she had said-the old bag-and she’d lot count of the times she left it sitting on the counter top at home

But recently work had been busier than usual, with more events then normal on the calendar and extra work Katniss had been running around, skipping lunch, working longer hours and she had lost some weight and more than once the ring had slipped off, she knew she should have been more careful…..

“Ok…OK.. lemme think. I’m not panicking. I am not panicking” Katniss was clearly panicking.

Jo rolled her eyes she had been through the lost ring drama more than once with Katniss. “Relax Brainless, let’s just retrace your steps and see if we can work it out”

“Ok, so this morning I had a doctor appointment – before you ask no I’m not pregnant- I remember having it then.  Then I went home before I came to work.  Peeta is going away to that Culinary Convention in District 2 so I wanted to see him before he went.  He won’t be back until tomorrow late“

“Bluegh I get it you two lovebirds couldn’t be parted. Continue”

“Whatever Jo. Anyway I helped him pack the last of his stuff and drove him to the airport. The car! I’ll check  the car. Where are you going?” Jo had thrown her coffee cup in the bin and was following Katniss.

“Eh it’s Friday, I’m bored. We’re going  on a pearl hunt” Jo laughed at her joke, Katniss just looked blankly at her “The kids book by Michael Rosen? “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt” Never mind” Jo shoved Katniss out the door muttering something about needing to read more.

They marched down to Katniss car and pulled it apart, by the time they were finished that had found a pair of shoes, an odd sock, a bracelet, Peeta’s old sunglasses and about $15 in loose change but no ring.

“Ok” said Jo pocketing the change “where to next?”

“Back to work, it’s only gone 3 and we’re here until 4 at least. Come on let’s go.  It’s probably be at home”

“Fine.  I’ll ring Gale and tell him I’ll be late this evening and I’ll help you look at home.  We’ll find it” for all her sharp edges and rough ways Johanna Mason would move heaven and earth to help her loved ones “Plus it’ll give me break for the hellcats for a bit longer ” she cackled as she walked away.

She shook her head and tried to concentrate on work but she couldn’t. She rang the doctors to see if maybe it was there but they had nothing. She needed to find her ring.  She thought back to the day Peeta had proposed and then the saga that was finding her the perfect ring……

18 months ago

“So is that a yes?” Peeta Mellark was standing  in the middle of his and Katniss kitchen in their newly purchased house-he would have been kneeling but the prosthetic he wore made it difficult.

They had just bought their first home together and were unpacking.   Katniss found the toaster and has thrown some bread in to make toast. This moving lark was hard work and she was starving a couple of slices of toast, with real butter and marmalade was just what she needed.  She turned to ask Peeta what he wanted when she saw him standing there with a half afraid look on his face, a big question on his lips and a small box in his hands.

The first thing Katniss did was drop the bread she was holding, the second thing  she screamed  yes and the third thing….well I leave that to your imagination.

Afterwards as they lay on the sofa, relaxed and blissfully happy Peeta suddenly remembered he had forgotten to give her the ring.  He hopped up and walked naked through to the kitchen following the trail of their discarded clothes and grabbed the ring box . 

“Not a great start to my new role of fiancé I forgot to give you this. Now it just a plain silver band until we can find “the one” He sat back down beside her “I looked and I couldn’t find anything that really fit for you.  You don’t wear jewellery so I want to make sure that your engagement isn’t too big, top showy. I looked at diamonds, I looked at emeralds and then there were the different metals and settings it was far more difficult than I thought.  I hope you don’t mind?”

“No Peeta how could I mind! I’m happy with this” she looked at the silver band now sitting proudly on the third finger of her left hand.  Now let’s go order some Chinese food and crack open the champagne Prim gave us for moving in here and celebrate our engagement.”

And so Katniss and Peeta announced their engagement.  Friends and family were delighted.  Mrs Mellark couldn’t understand why Katniss didn’t have a diamond.  She actually asked Peeta could he afford a ring. Katniss wanted to smack the old hag but she resisted the urge.  Peeta simply smiled and told his mother that yes he could afford a ring but he and Katniss were going to choose the perfect ring together.  She still didn’t understand and was heard muttering that she would never understand these hippie kids and what was wrong with tradition.

So they started looking for a ring.  Peeta was right finding the perfect Katniss ring was not easy.  Pushy sales assistants didn’t help matters insisting all the girls LOVED a diamond,  and  while Katniss did think they were pretty they weren’t her.   After two months Katniss was fed up and so when it came time to visit Katniss mom in District 4 she was glad to take a break.

They flew to District 4 where Mrs Everdeen lived and worked. She moved there some time ago to take up a position in the local maternity hospital.  Since she couldn’t travel to 12 when Katniss and Peeta gotten engaged she invited them out and paid their airfare as an engagement gift.  They jumped at the chance, between buying the house and the usual stress and strains of life it was a while since they had been away.  They had a lovely few days and on Saturday morning Katniss was sitting with her mother having breakfast Peeta was having a rare lie in.  They were talking about this and that, Katniss was regaling her mother with some of the ring shopping stories.

“Before you say anything mother, it’ not because I’m fussy. I just have specific requirements….ok I’m a bit fussy “ she grinned as she said this

“Morning Everdeens” Peeta was up, he leaned in to give Katniss a kiss on the cheek “I keep telling you Katniss you are allowed to be cautious and you want to be sure of your choice,  this will be on your finger for life unless you trade me in for a newer model someday” he said this with a smile.

“Never!” responded Katniss

Mrs Everdeen smiled at the two of them “How about when you guys are ready we head down to the market and have a look around, there are a few jewellers and goldsmiths down by the Marina. We can grab lunch as well, what do you think?”

“Sounds great Mrs E”

It was a lovely day, they were in no hurry so they took in the sights, walked along the beach. Peeta bought some seaweed salt convinced he could make use of it in the bakery back home.

They found Cresta and Odair Goldsmiths and Fine Jewellery and decided to have a look.  The pieces on display were all inspired by nature and had simplicity to them that Katniss was quite taken with.  Annie Cresta and her husband Finnick ODair were in the shop Annie was dealing with customer while Finnick was working on something.  Katniss looked at several of the designs and when Annie finished with the other customer so came over and introduced herself and  they got chatting Peeta and Katniss explaining they were looking for an engagement ring, and the difficulty they were having finding one that really spoke to them.   Annie showed them a further  selection of rings and there was no denying they were beautiful but not quite right.  At this point Finnick had come out and was chatting to them when Katniss caught sight of a bracelet he had on “Excuse me? What’s that symbol?” Katniss asked as she pointed at his arm

“This is a Claddagh it’s a traditional Irish symbol it represents love, loyalty and friendship.  The heart is the love, the hands friendship and the crown represents loyalty.  Do you like it? It is more traditionally seen in a ring here I’ll show you?” Annie passed Finnick a design book with pictures of rings designed and crafted by Finnick.

Peeta and Katniss looked through and Katniss knew this could be the one for her “Yes but I would like it more contemporary, flatter… am I making sense?”

“Of course! And if you’re not it’s our job to bring your dream to reality. If we go with a wishbone style, which is easy enough to fashion from the shape we can make a wedding band to sit perfectly with the engagement ring Let’s get to work” said Finnick

And they did. Finnick helped to bring Katniss vision to reality. Peeta had noticed that some of the pieces in the shop had Mother of Pearl inlaid so he asked Finnick if it would possible to use that in the ring as  the heart.  Finnick said that shouldn’t be a problem.  Peeta liked the idea of part of 4 being in the ring.

So when Katniss and Peeta left District 4, the making of the ring was underway and they would have it in a few months.

And now she had lost it.  This was awful.  She wondered how Peeta would react when she told him.  This was Peeta she knew he would be ok and I mean they had insurance.  It wouldn’t be the same but that was ok except  it wasn’t she had to find that ring.

She picked up her phone and called Jo “Jo meet me at the car in 10 minutes.  We have a ring to find”

As Katniss left her office and headed to the reception to wait for Jo. 

“Hey Katniss, heading out early?” asked Keith one of security guards at her office.

“Yeah. Keith I don’t suppose anyone handed in a ring today? I’ve lost mine” she described it but Keith said there was nothing left with him. He said he would send an email round to all the building and he would let the cleaning crew know to be on the lookout.

“Thanks I’d appreciate that. I’ll leave my mobile number you can call me if anything turns up”

“Right! Let’s get going” shouted Jo “I’ll follow you in my car. Oooo I’m starving can we order food when we get to yours? Bye Keith, see you Monday”

Once they got to the house Jo got Katniss to retrace her steps and they walked through the house but turned up nothing.

“Wait! Peeta would have emptied the bins before leaving….oh god I’m going to have to go through the rubbish” Katniss wailed

“Well we won’t  be doing that tonight.  Let’s get the gang together and pull this place apart tomorrow we’ll find it before Peeta gets back. Now I’m heading home I’ll be here with Gale and the kids tomorrow about 10? Oscar and Emily will  be delighted to help in the search plus their tiny child hands can get into places we can’t.  We’ll get Madge, Delly and Darius round too”

After Jo left Peeta called Katniss.  Peeta was in his element at the conference talking a mile a minute about meeting news suppliers, learning new techniques and making new contacts.  He was going to meet his brother who lived in District 2 for dinner this evening then tomorrow there were a number of workshops he was attending.  Katniss smiled as Peeta prattled on about this and that.

“Enough about me, how was your day?”

“Good, nothing unusual.  I finalised at the details for the training event next month so the pressure is off for a few days at least.  What time are you back tomorrow?”

“My flight is back in  lands at 7 I thought we could go to Sae’s and grab dinner when I get in?”

“We could or we could just stay in……..I mean you’ve have been away  and well Peeta a woman has needs……” she whispered seductively

“Check the freezer” laughed Peeta “you didn’t think I’d leave you without a supply of cheese buns did you”

“And that is why you are the perfect man for me Peeta Mellark, but I still think we should stay in”

“Ok well love you. I got to go meet Lincoln. I talk you tomorrow”

“Bye Peeta, love you”. 

True to her word Jo arrived with the troops the next morning.  Katniss has coffee and pancakes ready.  Jo being Jo called everyone to order “Listen up people! We have a situation on our hands.  We are here to help Katniss find her engagement ring which she has lost. Again.  Now we are going to pull this house apart.  Every piece of furniture, every drain, every bin –no stone left unturned.  Right Kantiss and I will take the upstairs, kids you come with us.  Gale and Darius you are an on rubbish sorting, garden and car.  We looked at the car already but going over it again is probably a good idea. Madge and Delly hit up the kitchen, living room, dining room.  We’ll find this bad boy!”

Gale laughed at his wife “Honey we really need to get you a hobby, but for now Darius let’s get ready to play in the bins”

Delly asked Katniss if she had sat on any particular sofa or chair yesterday “No I don’t think so why?”

“Well I started an upholstery class last month and I could easily remove and replace the base of the sofa if you needed to look in there.”

Katniss was slightly horrified but desperate “Do whatever you’ve got to do Delly”

She ran upstairs to where Johanna was she had all the shoes and handbags Katniss owned out on the floor and Oscar and Emily where shaking t hem then flinging them over their shoulders when nothing fell out. Jo meanwhile was stripping the bed and shaking pillows.  She pointed and Katniss “You can check your beside tables….you don’t want me finding out what’s in your goodie drawer”

Oscar was instantly alert to the words “Goodie drawer” “Aunty Katniss do you keep a drawer of sweets and chocolate in your bedroom…..that is so cool. Can I have something?”

“No Oscar don’t mind your mom she said…erm hoodie drawer….it’s where Uncle Peeta keeps his hoodies. Oooo look what’s that?” Once Oscar was distracted Katniss threw a sock at Johanna.

The search of the house turned up no ring. 

The search of the bins turned up no ring.

The drains held nothing except hair….causing Gale to comment that Katniss shed more hair then his dog.

The garden had nothing either.  Darius suggested he get his metal detector but as she hadn’t actually spent any time in the garden it wasn’t necessary.

And Delly wasn’t very good an upholstery, Katniss was glad no one could see the bottom of her sofa.

“It’s actually gone” Katniss slumped onto the nearest chair and a lone tear fell from her eye, before she knew it she had started to cry.  Oscar and Emily were watching TV and Katniss was grateful, she didn’t want to scare the kids with her crying.  Her friends all rushed to her and hugged her until she finally stopped.

When she had calmed herself a bit she accepted the cup of tea Madge had made for her and  everyone sat around the table. 

“Have we missed anywhere Kat?” asked Darius “Let’s go back over your movements yesterday again.  From the time you got up until the time you noticed the ring was gone”

“What’s the point?” sighed Katniss

“Look” said Madge “I know we’ve already been through it but let’s start from the top and work our way through your day.  We might have missed something.  We have time and we are not quitters!”  Nods from around the table made Katniss smile and she knew they were right.

“Ok let’s get lunch and then “Operation we’re going on a pearl hunt” can officially begin” said Jo, Gale laughed and from the living room Oscar and Emily started singing and song about a bear, Delly, Madge, Gale and Darius joined the kids singing….Katniss was just lost.

“C’mon” laughed Delly “I’ll help you make lunch”

An hour later and everyone was fed and ready to go.  They did one final sweep of the house Katniss led them through the house stopping everywhere she had been and then back down to the front door.

“Ok. So next thing I did was get in the car and drive to town.  We’ve pulled the car apart twice so I’m satisfied it’s not there.  I went to the doctor’s office,  popped into Mellark’s for a coffee and from there I headed to the chemist and picked up some stuff and finally headed to work.  Don’t look at me like that Joanne….ok I skived a bit but I think I’ve earned it.  I’ve been working my ass off and my fingers to the bone hence the reason I lost my ring” Katniss joked.

“Right so do you wanna drive into town?” asked Gale

The day itself was dry and not too warm, walking to town didn’t take too long but with the two kiddos it might take a bit longer but it was nice spending time with her friends, even if they were spending it looking for her engagement ring “If everyone is up for it, how about we walk? Jo will the kids be okay with that?”

“Sure and we have enough adults here that can carry them if their little legs get tired….and Gale brought the buggy.  We have wheels and we are ready  to roll.  So let’s go.  Everyone ready? Oscar and Emily are you ready to lead us?”

“Yyyyeeeeess” came the excited shouts

“Ok guys  why don’t you start singing our song?” grinned Gale

And they set off to the kids screeching “We’re going on a pearl hunt, we’re gonna catch a big one” and the adults laughing and  Katniss joining in singing the song.

 Thirty minutes later the troop arrived at the doctor’s office and entered in a line with Oscar and Emily leading the way followed by Katniss, Jo, Delly, Madge, Darius and then Gale.

“Oh my!” said the receptionist Effie Trinket “what have we here?”

“Hey Effie, I know I rang last night and there was no sign of my ring but I was kinda hoping that it may have turned up? Maybe one of your cleaning crew found it?” asked Katniss

“Oh dear Katniss I’m afraid not. Are you all looking for the ring? “she asked as she surveyed the group in front of her.

“We sure are” replied Darius “we’re like a modern day Fellowship of the Ring….or something”

“Well in that case good luck in your quest brave sirs and madams” Effie smiled and then indicated to the bucket of stickers and lollypops she kept at her desk  Jo nodded and Effie handed Oscar and Emily one of each.  The kids were delighted and popped their treasures into their backpacks.

“Effie, do you think maybe us adults could get a lollypop too?” asked Madge

Effie laughed and handed them each a lollypop.

“Right! Kiddos are you ready.  Time to get singing again” The gang left a confused looking Effie and marched onto Birdsong Street and headed towards Mellark’s with everyone of then singing loudly “We’re going in a pearl hunt, we’re gonna catch a big one”

Mr Mellark stood at the counter and could hear the singing long before the Katniss and her gang of singers came into sight.  He laughed as they entered, Emily and Oscar headed straight to the display case that held the cupcakes and cookies.

“Hey Mr M” Katniss smiled “I don’t suppose……the thing is….whew this is hard”

“Katniss? You’re beginning to worry me, what is it dear?”

“I lost my engagement ring, I was hoping I had dropped it here” she whispered to him

“Oh my dear, no nothing and I cleaned the shop myself and no one handed it in.  Is this a ring search party” he nodded to the assembled group around the shop.

“Yep” and she relayed the story of the last 24 hours to him.

“It will turn up I’m sure of it” he patted her hand before turning his attention to the adults and children in the shop and spoke to them “Well I think that when a person undertakes a task such of this they require sustenance and who better than a baker to provide this! I have some cheese buns and quiche that I can box up and I think perhaps your little helpers might be allowed a cookie…” this time Gale nodded a yes and smiled.  Mr Mellark packaged everything up and once more the headed out with the kids leading the way and singing loudly.

Katniss stopped outside the chemist. This was her last chance,  Jo stopped beside her and gave her hand a squeeze “C’mon I have a good feeling about this.  Ok kids one last time we’re going on a pearl hunt…”

Katniss headed straight up to the counter and when she spoke to the assistant she had all but given up hope that she would find her ring when she heard the manager Sae call to her “Katniss! We found a ring…well Rue found it. Rue works here part time and she was stocking some shelves and she found a ring, very unusual design it was too. Wait just a second while I grab the lost and found box”

From behind her Katniss heard Delly squeal, the kids asking Gale what lost and found was and were they getting something since everyone else had given them a treat.  Gale hushed them but Katniss smiled. 

“Here we go” she put a box on the counter and everyone peered into it, Gale and Darius had picked Oscar and Emily up so they didn’t miss a thing.

Katniss’ heart sank they was a ring but it was a silver with what looked like and emerald, beautiful but not hers “No Sae, that’s not mine” Sae glanced into the box  “Oh no wait, wait , wait that’s not the ring I meant” She flew off back to the office and returned with and envelope “Here” she  said and Jo reached out and  took it and passed it to Katniss……

“OH MY GOD!” she shrieked “it’s my ring! It’s my ring”  Everyone cheered, then laughed and cheered some more and just at that moment Katniss mobile phone rang.  It was Peeta.

“Shhhhh its Peeta ”she hissed at everyone  “Hey honey, everything ok?”

“Hey, yeah just have a few minutes before my next demo so I thought I’d ring and say hello.  Up to anything interesting?”

“Me? No, no not doing anything exciting” as she said that Emily piped up “But Auntie Katniss tell Peeta we’re going on a pearl hunt”

“Hey Katniss is that Emily? Are you hanging with Jo and the kids,and you’re on a bear hunt? I love that story”

“Am I really the only one who doesn’t know that story?” she asked Peeta

“Ah ask the kids for if you can have  lend of their book, you’ll soon get up to speed. Look  I’ve got to go sweetheart I’ll see you later”

Katniss slipped the ring back on her finger where is belonged.  It was a bit loose but before she could say anything Sae handed her a packet of plastic tubes(at least that’s what it looked like)“Until you get that beautiful ring resized use these “Ring Snugs” it will help keep your ring on”

Katniss pulled out her phone and text Mr Mellark to let him know they had found the ring.

Everyone headed back onto the street.  Katniss felt herself welling up again as she looked  around at her friends “Thank you all,  I really thought I’d lost it.  You gave up your Saturday to wade through garbage, pulled sofas apart, and pulled my house apart and you Jo you especially kept me going.  I can never thank  you guys enough.  But to start with how about we all head back to mine,  I’ll order dinner  and we can relax.  Emily and Oscar would you like to pick a movie to watch?”

A chorus of yes please filled the air and they set off back towards Katniss and Peeta’s house all singing  “We’re going on pearl hunt”

After everyone had headed home that evening Katniss waited for Peeta.  She had debated whether or not to tell Peeta what had happened but as Jo pointed out they had been seen by half the town singing and word would spread.

When Peeta finally arrived home Katniss was waiting with a cold beer and a tall tale for him…. and Peeta had bought her a copy of “We’re Going on a Bear Hunt”

So I hope I did this some justice for you @sunflowerslyf.  This is partly based on something that happened to me only I lost my wedding ring and never found it…..and trying to find a replacement has been way harder then you would think: )

A quick google will throw up the details of the book and song “We’re going on a Bear Hunt” but be warned you may end up with it stuck in your head if you don’t already know it :)

[senor-plume]

Reunion

   Henry throws on his favorite shirt, a concert tee that he got at an Arlo Guthrie concert some years back. Pulling the shirt over his head, he eyes the bottle of ale that sits on the kitchen table. Reaching out with his left hand he grabs the bottle and takes a long pull from it. Friday night and not a thing going on. Luckily.     With the drink in his hand he walks over to the living room window and takes a peak at the great outdoors. Folks arriving for a CYO event at the school across the street. Looks like a basketball game as he spies on the young girls showing up in their cheerleader outfits. Some adults walking in and a young man about 20 has his head stuck into his cell phone, texting as he moves straight ahead. Henry closes the curtain tight and walks away quite glad that he is not playing a game of basketball tonight. As much as he complains about the loneliness of his life, he has adapted to it and some nights, such as tonight, he is glad for his solitude lifestyle.      The television is on but thankfully muted while the record player spins the vinyl album around at 33 and a third. A collector of sorts, he stops and stares at his records. A massive amount that must be well into the thousands. His father started him out young to the pleasures of music and he never looked back. His dad left him his old records from the 40's to the 70's when he passed away. Alphabetized, he goes down to one knee to look through the Z's. Pulling out Frank Zappa's first album he takes the record from its sleeve and stares at the grooves that the needle reads. Henry can, and will spend hours now gazing at his collection with pride bursting up through his soul. Nothing can or will make him as happy as rummaging through these records and trips to the Salvation Army for more is his true joy in life.      Stopping only to gather up a plate of nacho's and a few beers, Henry has just spent the complete Friday night alone with his records. He plans to leave the house tomorrow morning for a trip to the local hotel where a huge record sale will be going down. Once a month there is a gathering of all types of venders selling off their albums and other music related items. Henry looks forward to this with unbridled glee. He takes to the computer and after seeing there was not one email waiting for him he begins to compile a list of albums that he must have and hopefully he will be able to find them there. Some records he just never stops looking for. Years and years he has waited for somebody to sell them off. A Beatles record nicknamed the Butcher Album due to the cover showing the Fab Four dressed as butchers covered in raw meat and doll parts. A true and rare collector's item. He saw one once when he was visiting his sister in California. He had it in his hands and as he always does, he smelled the inside of the cover. There really is nothing finer than the scent of an old record Henry believed. The asking price for the album was a hefty 1000 bucks which he did not have at the time. He has saved up for the day it would appear to him again. He would not miss out on it twice.     With the need to take a piss Henry, drunk now, as he always is on the weekends, stumbles to the bathroom. Holding on for dear life he lets out a long sigh and out of the blue the telephone rings. He usually unplugs the fucking thing on the weekends but he must have forgotten.  The answering machine pick up. It is a woman's voice and it is unfamiliar. Without washing his hands, Henry walks to the bedroom to hear the voice say goodbye and then the tape rewinds. Who the fuck could that be? Henry presses play and he listens in carefully.   "I'm looking for Henry Coda. If this is the wrong number I apologize but I really want to find him. This is Anna Baez. I went to school with Henry back in the 80's and I would like to invite him to our schools 25th anniversary. It's this upcoming weekend…seven days from now and it will be a ball. So Henry, please if you could join us at the school at 7 in the gymnasium… I would be thrilled to see you again. We all would. It will be a blast. I hope this is the right number. Call me at 722-5733 to let me know if you can come. Thanks and goodbye."     Christ. Anna Baez. Henry takes a long drink from the bottle…killing it and he heads to the bookshelf to pull out his senior yearbook. The cover says Binghamton Central High School. It has been years since he has looked at this thing. He takes a seat on his bed and opens the book. He flips through the pages with a bored look on his face until he comes to the page he wants. Under his nose is a picture of Anna. A blonde beauty that was quite popular in school. Unlike Henry she excelled in school, running for class president and winning. A cheerleader and if he remembered correctly, she was crowned prom queen…a prom in which Henry did not attend. His book was signed a few times and he reads a few. "Have a great summer Henry…see you at the college." "Henry, keep playing that guitar and I am certain you'll be top of the pops in no time." "You are one weird fellow man. Don't change."    Henry never ended up going to the local community college and he never made it to the top of the charts. He was still weird and he has barely changed since the 80's. He closed the book and placed it back on the shelf. He remained on the bed thinking of school. How he hated it and most of the kids there…except for one girl…Nancy…or Nan for short. Nan, he had the biggest teenage crush on. She was always friendly with him but she was dating the same guy from their freshman year right up to the senior year. They were friends…she was kind to him and although her boyfriend hated him she didn't care. She was nice. Rising from the bed he began to think about her. Nan, I wonder if you are even still alive and if you are I bet you have fourteen kids and a beefcake husband. He wandered out of his room and made it to the kitchen to grab a fresh beer. Cracking it open he heard the needle hit the label on the record he was playing and he knew it was time to flip it over.    Playing the Stones now he could not get his mind off of that girl. Nan. Henry hardly left his house for any kind of social event. Skipping family reunions and the like. But this…this could be…interesting. He wanted to see Nan and that was the only thing that made him pick up the phone to call Anna back.     She answered right away and sounded genuinely pleased to hear from him. She told him that he was all set. That it was to be a casual party and that he could bring a friend or spouse if he wanted to. Henry asked how many people have signed up to go and she told him that it will be a packed event. "Expect at least a hundred kids to be there. It will be lots of fun. And Henry, feel free to bring some of those records of yours with you. I bet we would all like to hear them." After saying goodbye and hanging up Henry crawled into bed and found himself…drunk and daydreaming about Nan and just what he could say to her. It made him nervous just thinking about it and soon he blocked it out and fell asleep with the full bottle of beer next to his head. ——————————————————————————————–                    After about four beers Henry was ready to leave for the reunion. Dressed in khakis and a seersucker shirt he bent down to tie his shoes when he felt the urge to throw up come over him. He ran to the kitchen sink and made it just in time. Four beers down the drain, all sudsy and wiping tears from his eyes he went to swig some mouthwash around in the bathroom.       Outside now Henry tucked the cuffs of his pants into his socks and jumped onto his bicycle. The school was only a few blocks away and it was a pleasant night. He had no intention of trying to impress anyone there. His bike was fine and he enjoyed riding it more than driving anyway.      Along the way there his nerves grew worse and he checked the time on the side of the bank on the corner. 7:15. He was late and he did not care. He toyed with the idea of not showing…no one would miss him anyway but Nan…he was dying to see what became of her. He stopped his bike in front of the tavern Rocco's and parking his bike on the side of the building. He went in. "Henry! Long time no see my friend. How goes it?" Rocco extended his hand and Henry shook it with a weak smile on his face. "Get me a cold one please Rocco. Lord knows I need one tonight" "What's the big occasion? You got a hot date tonight? If you do, bring her here. I'd love to see the kind of girl you could pick up Henry."       The bartender, a black guy with muscles that would put Schwarzenegger to shame cracked the top off the bottle of Bud and handed it to Henry. He took hold of it and brought it to his mouth and drained half of it in a mere two seconds. His eyes darted around but he found himself slowly calming down. The television above the bar was on showing some soccer match and the jukebox was playing the old Turtles tune.. .'Happy Together.' "Henry, it's been a while, a few days now perhaps since you last walked into my establishment. What's been happening to you? You depressed? Did a fire destroy your record collection or something?" "No. Just been busy is all. Listen Rocco, I need your advice here. I'm now headed to my 25th reunion at school and I am rather nervous about it all. There is a girl there…or a woman now and I really want to talk to her but I am a social dud. I have no idea what to say to her. What's a good ice breaker? Something that won't make me look like a total dick head. Just a little dick head." Rocco smiled and said " Ah Henry, you seeing an old flame tonight? Some girl who used to give you hand jobs in the basement? Something like that eh?" "No…not at all. Just a girl who I was friendly with. Though I have to admit that I dreamed of her and those hands giving me some relief. I don't know. I can't think of what to say to her when I see her. I need your help here."   Rocco pulled up a stool and thought for a while. "What did you guys used to talk about in school? Back then. What did you talk about?" Henry thought for a while and he said `music.' "Ok, then you talk about that. Just say that you heard an old song on the radio and that it made you think of her. She'll be pleased to hear this…hopefully and there you go. You'll be off to the races." "But I never listen to the radio…all those commercials and that terrible hip hop music they play now a days…It gives me a head…" “Then, forget the radio part…just say you heard a song…somewhere… and it made you think of her. Just wing it from there. She'll want to know what song and then you'll be in a real conversation and I bet it will be the first one with a woman for quite some time. Am I right?" Henry sighed and took a drink from the bottle. "Yeah, music, that's kinda what I had planned on anyway." "That's all you ever talk about actually Henry. This is the first conversation we've had that wasn't about music or music related. You must really be nervous." "Yeah, I am. What time is it Rocco?" "7:30." "Shit, I gotta go. Thanks for the help. I appreciate it, man."     Rocco wished him good luck and said that if he gets lucky with the girl to bring her over to the bar so he could see what all this nervousness was all about. Henry killed his beer and slammed the bottle down on the bar with a determined thud. He stood and with a wave left the bar and found his bike waiting for him. He climbed aboard and began his trek to the school. ————————————————-      Inside the gymnasium it was sweltering. He was informed at the front desk, where old Anna Baez was sitting, that the air conditioners were on the fritz and to expect it to be a little warm in there. Warm? It was horrible. Henry went immediately to the bar and ordered a beer. A nice cold beer would really hit the spot and maybe calm his nerves a bit.    Drinking, he looked down to his name tag. Henry. Who the hell is going to remember me anyway? This is a mistake. He had a few friends in high school and they all went to universities and left him in his hometown alone and friendless. Sure, he knew some of the guys and gals at the record conventions but he wouldn't be able to really call them friends. He was a lonely guy who simply loved his records and beer. He looked up and watched all the people milling around and some dancing. A few guys whom he recognized as old jocks were standing at the bar, drinking and laughing, without a care in the world. Henry felt the sweat dripping down his back and he flapped his shirt a few times to get some air in there. His ears pricked up when he heard a Duran Duran song playing and he was just about to head over to the DJ booth to talk to the guy about his CD's when he saw Nan walk in. The light from the gym was weak at best but he knew it was her although he could not read her name tag. My goodness…there she is he thought to himself. I'll just wait for a while to let her mingle with the people that she really wanted to see and then, then he would walk up to her and reintroduce himself to her.        Henry wiped his brow with the back of his hand and struck up a conversation with the DJ. They shot the shit for a few minutes when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around and saw Nan smiling ear to ear. "Henry Coda…my God…you look exactly the same. You really do. My goodness…how are you?"       Henry's shirt was sopped with sweat as he opened his mouth to return her greeting when a group of guys walked up to Nan and began to talk excitedly to her. Henry shrunk back to the DJ booth and just stood there watching them enjoying their conversation. I wish I was normal he thought to himself. I wish I could talk and feel carefree with others. Instead I am a sweating fool all alone with social anxiety and a drinking problem. He took a swig from his plastic cup and turned around to stare at the wall.     A few minutes passed while a Van Halen song played. Henry began to recall the time he had bought the album which this song came from when he heard a woman's voice say something. He turned around to see Nan staring at him. "Hello…anyone home? I've been trying to get your attention for a minute now silly. Daydreaming about music I bet. This Van Halen song sure brings back the memories don't you think?" "I was just playing this song a few days ago actually. All in all it's a great album with very little filler. Sure, a few of the songs aren't all that great on it but not many records from that period were masterpieces. You know what I mean?" Nan smiled at him and told him that he has not changed all that much from 25 years ago. Henry smiled and tried hard to think of something to say to her. He decided to ask her about her life now but she spoke first. "So tell me Henry…tell me about your life. Are you married? Is your rock and roll wife around here somewhere?" "Wife? Ha, no…No wife. Never. Never was married. You?" "Well, remember Davey? My boyfriend in school? We married after college and 10 months later we were divorced. Still to this day I have no idea what went wrong but that band of gold on my finger just cursed us. It was something else, I'll tell you, I won't be walking down the aisle again, you can count on that." Henry looked down at her finger and even in the bad light he could see that she was not sporting a wedding ring. "Gee, I'm sorry about that Nan. Geeze…will he be here tonight? Davey?" "No, he moved to Washington State after our divorce was finalized. I haven't seen him in years now. No kids…thank God." "Oh…well that's good I guess…divorce can really be hard on kids; at least that's what I've read in magazines and all. So…you live around here?" Nan answered his questions and boy was there a lot of them. Henry at times felt like he was interviewing the poor girl but he really had nothing else to say to her so he asked questions. Query after query but she didn't seem to mind at all. They talked for a while when he realized he was in dire need of a drink. He tried to back step a bit to get closer to the bar hoping that she would follow him…slowly but two steps back into his plan she stood right there, not moving an inch. He would have to ask her if she would like a refill on her wine…or what appeared to be wine. Maybe it was punch. It was red and that was all he could tell. In a break in the conversation he asked her if she would like a refill and that he could really go for a cold beer in this stifling heat. "I know! It's so hot in here…I can't stand it. Want to go outside for a bit? I could use some fresh air and besides…and don't tell anyone but I am dying for a cigarette." "Outside? Certainly. I'd like that. I'm beginning to melt in here. Please just let me refill my beer here. Can you wait?" She nodded her head and Henry went to get a beer. Turning to Nan he asked her if she was good. She replied that another cup of wine would be great and she handed him her now empty cup. "…A nice cold Michelob and a wine please Jerry."    The bartender filled up the two glasses and they headed outside. On the way to the front doors Nan was greeted with many hellos. Henry couldn't remember her being so popular in school. It was mighty crowded and Nan grabbed his arm and pulled him along and he was happy to be lead away out of there. Outside the cool air was a Godsend. They both needed the cool night air on their hot skin. "Now this is much better, don't you think Henry? So, tell me now…back in school you loved music more than anyone I've ever known. You ever made a career of it? You in a band or anything?" He felt like he was letting her down as he went on to say that not only was he not in a band but that as a career he chose media marketing. "What exactly is that Henry?" "You know those jingles you hear on the radio? I write them. I make commercials for the radio and television." "Oh my, how interesting…anything I would know?" "You know Champs Fried Chicken? The chain of chicken places? Well that one ad..the one that goes:

`Champs…is the place to be when your down and hungry, a dollar 99 is all you got? you'll dig our chicken, you'll dig it a lot.'

I wrote that." "Holy shit Henry, I know that song! It's the catchiest tune like ever! Wow…I'm with a celebrity here!" "Ha…well…it pays the bills. It's not going to get me a gold record but I suppose I can't complain." "Well, I think it's awesome…simply awesome Henry. I'm not as famous as you but I guess my job is ok…I sell real estate in North Carolina. I'm not rich or anything but like you, I can pay the bills."     Henry found himself relaxing a bit. The cool night air did him well and he found that he could keep up his end of the conversation. He went in a few times to refill their drinks. He was feeling alright by the time of his 7th beer of the night and Nan was really knocking the wine back. They talked about many things and a few people even recognized him as they made their way out of the gym to return home.    Around the time of Nan's fifth cup of wine she realized that the party inside was dying down. "I should really go back inside and mingle a bit more. You wanna come along with me? There has to be other people you want to see besides me." "Not really, Nan…in fact the only reason why I came to this high school heat wave was to see you. You were always so nice to me…don't think I've forgotten it these many years later." "Oh Henry, that's so nice of you to say. Shoot…I should go back though. You sure you don't want to come with me? I'll buy you another drink." Henry thought about it and decided not to go in. "I'm sorry Nan but it's really too hot for me in there. I'm going to head to Rocco's for a nice air conditioned beer." "Sounds splendid. Ok…I understand. "It was nice to see you again Nan…really. Take care now." "I will. Thanks for visiting with me. I had a ball. Enjoy Rocco's" And with that they hugged each other goodbye and went their separate ways.

      Around 1AM Rocco was placing the chairs up on the tables when there was a knock at his front door. He checked the time on his wrist and went to tell them he was closed. Through the door he saw a woman standing there. "I'm sorry Ma'am but I'm closed now. I open at 9 if you still need a drink in the morning." The girl was swaying a bit but managed to steady herself. "Is Henry there? Henry Coda? I'm a friend of his." Rocco opened the door and told her that she just missed him. "He left about 10 minutes ago. You don't happen to be Nan are you?" "Yes..why?" "Oh boy was he going on and on about you. You made quite the impression on him tonight. He usually only talks about music but not tonight. It was Nan this and Nan that. Sorry you missed him." "Yeah, me too. Please tell him I stopped by ok?" "I will. Goodnight." And with that she turned away and headed back to her waiting taxi. “Thanks for waiting. Please take me to the Serling Hotel.”   The driver nodded and turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from the tavern.  Nan, drunk… rummages through her purse as the taxi speeds through the early morning darkness as the car radio plays an REM song and Nan smiles to herself as she zips up her bag and quietly sings along to the tune as it plays.    

[soulkiba]

OC Interview - Wilk Ashworth

Rules

1. Choose an OC. 2. Answer them as that OC. 3. Tag 5 people to do the same.

tagged by @watermelon-pixels ,thank you!

I’ll tag @nitrozem​ and @chibikinesis​ (no pressure though!)

1. What is your name?

Wilk Ashworth

2. Do you know why are you named that?

No, I don’t really think they had much reason behind it either.

3. Are you single or taken?

Thats none of your business.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

I more or less know my way around Dark Magic, mostly Utility Spells and not much for the offense. So mostly spells that let me move faster or blend in with shadows or anywhere it’s rather dark. Otherwise nothing too extraordinary.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Stop being annoying.

6. What’s your eye color?

Pretty much just grey. Used to be Blue a few years ago, I think.

7. How about your hair color?

I suppose it’s Ginger, more going towards brown. Though my Bangs, Eyebrows, Beard and Sideburns are a Dark Blue, almost dark purple. Probably been getting some grey hairs already too.

8. Have any family members?

Too many. My family is rather big, running some of the bigger Trading Posts around the country. Two brothers and two sisters and my Parents but I broke off contact with most of them long ago.

9. Oh? How about pets?

None. I don’t hate pets but I definetely don’t have the time or space to really care for one. My apartment is also my Bureau and Workspace and it’s very small to begin with.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like?

Probably our general society. Alot of people are doing alot of wrong things. I wanted to become a Detective so I could try to fix some things that are wrong. But I’m not even sure if thats possible.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

Well I used to...dance. Caroline loved dancing, I...really didn’t at first. One night we were at our usual Bar and she doesn’t like Alcohol so she mostly came there for the Live Music and Karaoke. I was...always to embarassed to join her for that until one of her favourite songs came on and I had a bit...too much to drink. It was well...very bad, atleast I was, honestly still don’t know how she managed to even keep me on my feet but it was...well it was fun. Became a habit to do that every Friday evening and I suppose I picked it up when I was alone too. But these days I...don’t do that anymore.

12. Have you ever hurt anyone in any way before?

Often enough. My Job does force me to be violent to some degree at times. I usually try to avoid it as best as I can though.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

No. I don’t plan to either.

14. What kind of animal are you?

Animal? No idea if I’m honest. I know that my name means “Wolf”, Caroline told me that at one point. Guess that would be it then?

15. Name your worst habits?

Well there...probably are alot. I’m a fairly heavy smoker. Tried to quit cause Caroline didn’t like it much but I picked it back up again. I also don’t sleep much, sometimes not at all. Might be cause I drink alot of coffee but I don’t like sleeping much. Nightmares come easily and can accompany me for awhile. Always leaves some pretty heavy bags under my eyes too. Caroline always said I always look really grumpy too so...I guess theres also that.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Not really. Or not anymore I suppose. I read some Detective and Crime Novels from my Fathers library when I was younger. I don’t remember the Name of the Detective, think it was a longer series too with some books missing so I never really read all of them but that gave me some kind of idea what I wanted to do. Or I guess what kind of person I wanted to be. Someone who helps others, fights crime and tries to set things right. But not in a Superhero way, I knew I’m not someone like that, no one with special talents either. But a Detective felt like something I could be back then.

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

I’m not someone who’s really interested in relationships. But I wouldn’t really care if it was a Woman or a Man.

18. Do you go to school?

I was home schooled so I never went to an public school.

19. Ever want to marry and have kids one day?

Caroline talked about marrying quite often. About kids too but not as much cause she knew how much just the thought of it stressed me out sometimes. Though I would’ve tried. I bought rings too, waited for the right moment but...next question please.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

Not really. Well...kinda. There’s this girl who won’t stop bugging me about taking her in as my apprentice, if that counts.

21. What are you most afraid of?

I’m not sure...probably losing myself.

22. What do you usually wear?

Usually an plain button up shirt, either white or black, Slim jeans, mostly black or grey with an belt and leather shoes are what I usually wear. During work I usually have an simple black tie on. I’ve got an assortment of Vests, some plain and some with different patterns too, Caroline made most of them. Always made sure I would make an good impression. And then theres just my usual Trenchcoat left. Theres also this Wristwatch that Caroline bought me for me which I’ve been pretty much wearing everday since then too.

23. What’s one food that tempts you?

Cinnamon rolls. I always more or less had a soft spot for baked goods and it didn’t help that Caroline loved baking but her Cinnamon Rolls really were amazing.

24. Am I annoying to you? Somewhat.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

Great...

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

I was born into a High Class family but since I took off on my own, mostly low class by now. Only have a tiny apartment in one of the more or less run down parts of the city. It’s not the absolute worst but not too far away from that either.

27. How many friends do you have?

Well...none I suppose.

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

I usually like smaller baked snacks a bit more then an entire pie but Caroline’s Raspberry Pie was my favourite

29. Favorite drink?

Coffee. Usually dark with just a bit sugar and milk.

30. What’s your favorite place?

Probably the Bar where me an Caroline met. Not really going there anymore, haven’t been for along while but it still holds some good memories.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

No.

32. That was a stupid question…

Yes.

33. Would you rather swim in a lake or the ocean?

Neither. I...don’t like swimming. At all.

34. What’s your type?

Also none of your business.

35. Any fetishes?

I’m very close to kicking you out right now.

36. Camping or outdoors?

Camping. Are we done now?

[alexwinfield-blog1]

Digital Footprints: Put YOUR stamp on it.

It’s Monday morning. A new day. Another week of school. You turn off your alarm and head straight over to Twitter. “Monday already !!!!!!! (Crying emoji X10) Can’t w8 to get back into bed”. Your phone pings. It’s Lizzie. Your BFF. She never lets you down. Except not today it seems. “Soz bbe. Sooooo ill. Grab any hw sheets for me plzzzz (blowing kiss emoji) xxxx”. Mum shouts up the stairs “Are you getting up at any point today? The dog needs walking and you need to take your brother to school!” You slam your phone into the duvet, roll your eyes and take a deep breath. You’re annoyed and the day has only just begun. Toast in one hand and dragging your brother out the door by the other, you smile at the postman. “Morning”, you say. Knowing full well he loses your packages ALL THE TIME.  Be nice mum always tells you. Manners cost nothing.

You get to school. The mean girls stare you down as you walk to your English lesson. You try to look cool. You tell yourself that one day they’ll take you in as one of their own, but maybe today just isn’t that day. You find your seat, unpack your books, your pencil case, tucking your phone under your hideous plaid skirt. Silly really. Illuminating skirts aren’t exactly the school uniform market’s latest innovation. You’re top of your class. You know you shouldn’t be scrolling through Instagram in a lesson, but everyone else does, and you for sure don’t want to stick out any more than what you already do. You get A’s in nearly every assignment and you compete in nearly every extra-curriculum sport in the school, but you can’t help but fantasise about that Instagram #gymbod. Your parents are immensely proud, and your teachers? You can’t do enough to please them. You love school. Never too shy to raise your hand in class, never too eager to stand in front of the WHOLE of year 11 to deliver a speech about the school’s litter policy, and never too embarrassed to admit to your friends that you’ve not even kissed a boy.

It’s lunchtime. You and your best friends of 12 years gather around the canteen table.They tell you about their exciting weekends. How their heart throb boyfriends distracted them from getting any work done. How they got ridiculously drunk at a family party and how their mum grounded them for coming home at 10:33 – 3 minutes later than expected. And you? You just listen. For the most part, you spend your break and lunch times talking in the hockey team WhatsApp group chat. They’re a laugh. Sometimes you tell the girls about your boring weekend, or even fluff it up slightly by telling them you actually got out of your pyjamas. They would never believe you. You’re well and truly the plain Jane out of the bunch. The new boy in your year asks if the seat next to you is taken. The girls think he’s a nerd but you think he’s quite cute. You say no. The girls sigh as if to say “you’re such a loser”, but you don’t care. You have to pretend you don’t know his name, that you don’t have an unhealthy obsession with checking his Facebook. You know his cat goes by the name of Clive, but you pretend you don’t know that. You know he plays for the local rugby team, but you’re not supposed to know that either. You don’t know that his birthday is the 6th of June, and most importantly, you must NOT show any bitterness towards his girlfriend of 3 years.

Home time at last. You’re loosening your tie as you get closer to the front door, eager to jump straight back into bed. PING. It’s the girls group chat. “House (girl dancing emoji) Sat nite. 8.30. B there or b (square emoji)”. NOOO. You promised mum you’d have a film night with her. Saturday night rolls around. You’ve been plotting all week how you could get away with this one, but she’s a mum. They find out everything. Not this time. You divert from the party situation. It’s now a revision sleepover situation with the girls. You ask to go and of course you’re allowed. School first, partying second. It’s 10pm. You’re having the best time but you assured mum updates on the revision sesh. So, as promised, you load up Instagram stories. On your second Instagram account, obviously. By second, you mean the only Instagram account your mum thinks exists, right? You locate the photo album named “revision”. You browse this until you find the most colourful, most mind-map-ful, most hard working-esque photo you can find. And voila! A little later, in comes a text from mum. “Wonderful stuff. Looks like you’re really working hard. See you in the morning :)” . Little does she know, over on what might as well scream @yourerliar101, several stories and photos were posted of your amazing night with your besties. In the morning it seems the party was a huge success. Tweets and Instagrams raving about the night – “Can’t believe Josh taught every1 to do the (worm emoji) (cry laughing emoji)”. “Had the best nite EVAAAAAA (tongue out emoji)”. “Me and the gals last night!!!!!!! (cocktail emoji) (heart eye emoji) #lovethem”.

Sound familiar? Well, this may not be too dissimilar to a day in the life of your late teenage years. (Millennials, this one is for you!) Through this artificial account, we learn that in just 24 hours, you are likely to perform a variety of different roles. You’re a reliable friend and a caring sibling. You’re also studious, a potential lover and occasionally a liar. But sometimes it’s for the best, right? So, quite literally, how can these personalities become transparent online?

Just like this teenager, the average social media user, whatever you may define this to be, can be traced online. Social media can speak volumes about a person. Not just what they get up to on the weekend, but the finer details. For example, they’re obsession with their house rabbits, how much they can’t stand their boss, and more recently, how they’ve jumped on-board Facebook’s latest bandwagon, “rate my meal”. 

Social media, such as Instagram and Twitter allow me to present the most favourable, or sometimes least favourable, versions of myself.  If you were to rewind to old school Alex on Twitter, you would definitely find tweets containing homophones, such as “u”, with my favourite acronym, still to this day, being “lol” – only used sarcastically of course. As well as this, I was a sucker for, and admittedly still am, a cluster of exaggerated punctuation, but mostly “!!!!!!!”.  Although Crystal (2008) claims that young users of social media, especially in SMS, will use abbreviations such as “GTGMIW” (Got to go, mum is watching), this wasn’t necessarily the case when I was growing up with social media. Nowadays, it’s all about filtering what you put online. This screening allows you to hide your online activity, for example by disguising your wild Friday night shenanigans by deselecting your mum from viewing your Snapchat story. Or, creating a separate Instagram just for your friends’ entertainment. You can be as embarrassing as you like and you won’t have 800 followers judging you.

Goffman (1974) refers to this online social interaction as “audience segregation”. We ultimately filter aspects of our lives from certain people in order to curate and maintain a multitude of personalities depending on the context we are in. So, for me, this means presenting a sensible, family-friendly Alex on Facebook, an interesting and good-humoured Alex on Twitter, and an exciting, adventurous Alex on Instagram. Let’s take a look…

So, 2017 A-Level Results day. Here, we’ve got a definite exaggerated use of punctuation and excitable capitalisation. Not only this, I clearly thought the use of the extreme smiley emoji X2 wasn’t enough, resulting in going the extra mile with a #. What am I doing here? Looking back on this, this for sure could have been Facebook worthy. This could have bagged me a gushing army of comments from overjoyed family members bursting with pride. But why Twitter? My friends would see this. People I know, but don’t really know, would see this. Those 23 likes - those 23 people thought this was worthy of a tweet and that’s all that mattered. In this moment, I. Was. Clever.

Evidently, over the years, I desired to either be desperately funny or desperately embarrassing. You decide this one.

Would I have found any of these tweets to be bland if I weren’t to use homophones? Or exaggerated punctuation? Or hashtags? Were these attempts for me to moan about how busy my life was? Did I want sympathy or just someone to relate to?

Here’s Instagram Alex. Holidaying in the Dominican Republic, Lanzarote and Greece. Eating Wagamamas at least once a week. Being overly obsessed with a French Bulldog, attending fancy-dress parties and the occasional festival. This is what I choose to share online. Not very exciting, but a fairly accurate representation of me. You can guarantee nearly every other caption incorporates an excessive use of emoticons, sarcasm and most definitely a little too much of this “!!!!!”.

What do these linguistic features allow me to achieve?

If I asked a complete stranger to read my Twitter, browse my Facebook and scroll through my Instagram, they would probably argue that my presence across these social media platforms doesn’t really differ that greatly. You could say that for the most part, I present the most authentic version of myself online. I’m not one to shy away from no-make up selfies, or tell the world about how groggy I feel after waking up from that 3- hour nap, or in fact how much I moan about going to my 20 hours a week part-time kitchen job.

However, for some people, this is not the case. Without audience segregation there would be a context collapse. Employees would start saying “lmao” when their boss asks for a coffee. Students would use inappropriate emoticons to sign of their “sorry I can’t make it to the lecture today, I’m ill” email. Parents would text, or even worse, tag you in their FB status announcing “#DINNERISREADY” instead of actually calling you down for dinner, and we definitely don’t want to live in a world full of parents who hashtag EVERYTHING.

So, what can we learn from this?

For both professional and personal matters, it’s important to present yourself online in a way that is consistent. You don’t want people to think you have 25 different personalities. Keep this for the real-life stuff. No one likes a catfish. After all, if 70% of employers screen candidates’ social media before they consider hiring, it’s important to avoid branding yourself as a fool online. Keep those drunken night out videos OFFLINE and maybe consider deleting those 2012 “Like for a rate <3” cringey Facebook statuses. However, don’t go erasing yourself offline completely in fear that you’ll never get a decent job. After all, 47% of employers argue that having an online presence allows them to learn a bit about who they’re hiring. So, be open, but not TOO open. Be YOU. However, if “you” means writing Facebook statuses about how much you love playing Angry Birds at work, or how you’re easily persuaded to go clubbing on a Monday night, maybe it’s best you don’t share the real you online. Be mindful about the digital footprint trail you’re leaving behind. 

References:

Driver, S. (2018, October, 7). Keep It Clean: Social Media Screenings Gain In Popularity. Retrieved from: https://www.businessnewsdaily.com/2377-social-media-hiring.html

Jones, R. H., & Hafner. C. A. (2012). Undersatnding Digital Literacies. London: Routledge.