#my whites do be a wee bit more washed out than usual

[rivrdin]

ER Whiskey Serenade "Whisky" imported from Elk Ridge & WSS Wicklow Wander "Harrow" imported from Wolf Song Stables (@paradoxist-ts4)

📍 Youngster Herd #3 unedited : 4/??

[saphirered]

Could you do one with essek where S/O is a part of the M9 and is a Eldritch Knight and he is just simping over a strong + smart reader? (Maybe even S/O saving essek?) I hope you have an amazing day!

I’m sorry this took a while. Work have been hectic so I’ve hardly had time to write. I hope this is to your liking and have a great day yourself 😘

At first glance you definitely fit into the ‘heavy hitters’ category with a physique displaying your strength, on par with Yasha. And while you don’t hide the fact you could crush skulls with your fists you do not live up to the strong-as-a-giant-dumb-as-a-rock stereotype. You are what some may refer to as the perfect balance between ‘jock’ and book nerd; days off spent training during the day while studying well into the wee morning hours. You are a magnet for knowledge and your expertises far surpass the limits of trivial subjects they focus on the arcane. Your roots come from Evocation and Abjuration but you’ve been expanding your knowledge beyond those two schools. The prospect of a ninth school of magic, one you had no access or even knowledge of before brought great promise of broadening your horizons.

When you met Essek for the first time he might have been slightly dismissive. Not disrespectful in any way from first impressions you fell into the same category as Beau and Yasha, presumably just different. He was nothing but friendly and respectful towards you but the moment Caleb asked to learn some Dunamancy and when Essek agreed your request to join in on this lesson surprised him. Regardless, he happily allowed you to join. After your early morning runs you found yourself at Essek’s tower discussing books you had read, things you had encountered and even openly deliberating the ongoing conflict. 

You had lost track of time after a quick sparing session with Beau and got dragged into her next routine with Fjord. You ended up having to correct Beau’s ‘teachings’ at times to the point where you took over ending up into another round of sparring sessions with Fjord.

“Again.” Fjord comes at you again swinging his sword. While he certainly knows how to use a falchion his proper technique could use some improvement. You block, parry, turn left around him, strike with the pommel of your own sword against his back and send him stumbling. 

“Footwork. Again.” You say once he’s recovered. He makes sure his feet are in the right position, blade angled right and takes a deep breath as he swings again. This time more calculated and mindful of where he steps and which foot he moves first. You block his hit.

“Much better.” You praise as you push him back putting some distance between the two of you. This time he does not stumble but instead stays steady on his feet. This time you strike giving him the opportunity to parry. He does but comes in a little too close to properly strike and leaves his defences open, a deadly move in close quarters. You shoulder check and kick his feet from under him. Fjord falls to the ground and you hear Beau snicker from behind. You hold out your hand to help Fjord to his feet but behind you you feel a punch hit your side. Sneaky little… You take the punch and while Fjord tries to pull you down you instead pull him up, the momentum pushing him in Beauregard behind you and the both of them barely manage to catch each other. 

“This is how we’re gonna play now?” You give a ‘come at me’ motion and with a grin Beau does. Dropping your sword to the side and out of the way deciding when dealing with a monk not wearing any kind of armour or protection, you’re not intending to actually hurt it’s probably best to not use live steel. Hands up defensive you see Fjord dispel his blade into its dimension too. Game on. 

Beau strikes. You take the first hit but counter with a kick at her shins and a punch to her shoulder. Fjord moves in next you prevent him from moving to your back and manage to keep him to your side. With a high kick you kick Fjord back a few feet. Beau takes this opportunity to go for your other leg but you stand strong and turn it to your favour coming back around with a kick to her side. This goes on for a while, a back and forth of Beau and Fjord teaming up against you. They manage to land some good hit but so do you, to the point where Fjord is almost out of the fight. You notice them make eye contact. You call shenanigans. 

Fjords summons his blade swinging down so you summon yours back to your hand, side stepping and blocking the attack with a quick parry sending Fjord to the ground on his ass. This move took you into Beau’s space who took the opportunity to hit you. You could feel your limbs nearly freeze up for a moment but shrug off the stun. If they’re playing dirty so would you. With an open palm you strike against her sternum releasing a shocking grasp. For good measure you use your newly acquired sapping sting spell to knock her prone. You walk over to Fjord kicking the blade away from his grasp, a foot on his chest while you hold the tip of your blade towards Beau. 

“Cheaters don’t win against me.” You grin helping Fjord to his feet and dropping the blade out of offensive mode. You grab Fjords blade and hand it back to him with a pat on his shoulder. You notice Beau is awfully quiet after her defeat. You see her staring at the doorway with a raised eyebrow and a grin as she crosses her arms. 

“Looks like we got an audience to witness our ass whooping.” Your back still turned you expect it to be one of the others. 

“Seems like he’s been paying more attention to our champion than us, though. Let’s leave them be.” Fjord picks up his things and begins to push Beau out of the room. You finally turn around and see who witnessed your little training session and when you see the floating white-haired wizard looking at you in awe you have a minor panic attack.

“Essek, by the Storm Lord. I am so sorry. I must have lost track of time…” You begin apologising as he is taken out of his trance. 

“Give me ten minutes. I’ll get changed and freshen up a bit if you can still spare the time. I’m so sorry. I should have told Caleb to remind me of the time.” You go on and Essek floats over to you. 

“No need for apologies. You were otherwise engaged. Though I would still appreciate your presence in this endeavour.” He reminds you of your appointment later in the day, or rather now. They had caught a spy with a similar skillset to yours and Essek had asked for your expertise in their questioning. 

“Of course yes.” You take him back out of the training room and to your chambers. He waits outside your door while you get changed and make yourself look presentable washing the sweat from your skin and change into your regular clothes. 

After you’re done the two of you make your way to the prison making small talk. Essek seems a bit more awkward than usual to the point you swear you see a slight blush creep onto his cheeks at one point but that might just be the cold. 

“You have learned quickly. Clever use of your newfound spells.” Essek mentally slaps himself for the way the words came out. Meant as a compliment but sounded like a dig at you. 

“I know. I’m sorry. If anyone knows you don’t just use combat spells for fun and games it’s me. It won’t happen again. Believe me, your teachings are much more valuable than to be used for fun and games.” You really didn’t mean to slip up and use Dunamancy for something as trivial as a fun sparring match. You should have known better. 

“No. My apologies. I did not mean to say it like that. You use your spells cleverly. They compliment your skills and your skills are… exceptional.” Was that a direct compliment coming from the Shadowhand himself? You raise an eyebrow at him pretty sure he caught onto your bewildered look. You feel the blood rush to your cheeks. If you knew one thing about the man it was he did not just give compliments. Not to anyone and when he did you had not witnessed it. 

“So about this prisoner…” You change the subject as you approach the prison. There seems to be some kind of commotion going on and no guards up front. You both exchange glances before rushing inside. 

There’s a cowering guard in the front room. Essek goes over to him and seems to have some colourful words for the man while you keep an eye out around. The limited light makes it more difficult to see but you can hear just fine. After Essek finishes the guard rushes out of the prison, to get reinforcements you assume. You begin moving towards the hall that leads deeper into the Dungeon of Penance while Essek joins you. You push a finger to your lips before pointing ahead. 

Watching up ahead you see a few unmoving figures. Essek notices too but stays at your side. It’s too quiet and there’s too many hiding places. 

“Any weapons on them?” You whisper as Essek takes a look. 

“All standard equipment accounted for except for one long sword, a dagger and a crossbow.” Essek relays back to you inspecting the bodies. 

“I assume this is your prisoner’s doing.” Right as you say that someone jumps out from the shadows and makes a run for the Shadowhand. You notice before he does and grab Essek by the collar of his mantle pushing him away and to the other side of you as you summon your sword to deflect the attack. A second attack is made but you manage to prevent it from hitting Essek who’s still caught off guard. In your move to grab the blade you take out some gold dust, speak the words and the swinging blade is stuck in the air. The prisoner tries to grab it but is unable to move it, stuck mid-air. 

“That wasn’t very nice!” You retaliate with an attack. Hit. Essek manages to cast a quick magic missile striking the prisoner who puts some distance between you. He takes out a crossbow and aims it at the two of you. 

“You really prepared to die here? Put down your weapons and we can figure this out. No need for more bloodshed.” You try to persuade. From the corner of your eye you watch Essek reach for his components. The movement provokes the prisoner and he releases an arrow. You just in time manage to deflect trajectory of the arrow and prevent it from striking Essek but the second arrow scrapes your arm, the majority of the impact reduced by the edge of your bracer, it still leaves a bit of a scratch. You’ve had far worse. Essek looks at you bewildered, eyes focused only on you.

“I suggest you do what you save the staring for a later moment and help first?” You say in a half joking manner. He snaps out of it. Essek completes his spell and the prisoner is pulled backwards seemingly pulled in by some gravitational pull crushing his bones. The body falls to the ground unmoving. You go over to the body to make sure the prisoner is actually done for. 

“You are… exquisite.” You can barely hear Essek say under his breath. You freeze up for a moment not having seen that one coming. At that moment the cavalry comes in. He makes sure everything is sorted and you can go on your way, leaving them to clean up the mess, currently no use for either of you. 

“Are you hurt?” He breaks the silence while the two of you make your way back. You look at your arm. Nothing but a small scratch. But a fraction lower and it might have cut something vital but you know what you’re doing.

“No. All peachy.” The silence continues, both of you retreating into your own minds as you walk, or well, float in Essek’s case. You take a moment to look back at the past hour, his words repeating in your head and his ‘off’ behaviour. 

“‘You are… exquisite.’? That’s what you said before.” You try to mimic his voice. You may not be the best impressionist but you got the message across. Essek goes to speak but presses his lips back together swallowing whatever he was going to say. 

“Don’t tell me it’s going to take another fight with someone to get answers out of you. I might just have to show off in that case.” You wink jokingly with a half smile. 

“I wouldn’t complain.” That comment leaves your mouth agape and you stop in your tracks for a hot second to recover. 

“I don’t know if that’s sarcasm, a challenge or you actually mean it.” You fall back in line at his side nearing the tower.

“I wouldn’t complain.” Essek repeats once more.

“Well then, perhaps I should find a nice and rowdy tavern or talk to the Aurora Watch to join some training sessions to grant your wish.” You suggest only half serious with a raised eyebrow.

“It’s a date.” He returns your expression as you reach his front door. 

“Though, for now I think some reading would be just fine. Would you like to join?” He opens the door and waits for you. You step inside but stop and lean in a little bit.

“It’s a date.” You say with a smug smile and kiss his cheek as you enter looking over your shoulder. You seem to have the ability to make the Shadowhand swoon and boy, could you get used to it. 

[joshslater]

Grimsby pt. 7

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I was speechless and touched. I was too exhausted to figure out what this meant though. Did he expect something from me now? Before I could gather myself Jace picked up his bag and started walking towards the exit.

- We should of a pint.

I wasn’t audibly breathing heavily any longer, but I could feel I was still pretty wound up. Flush, sweaty, and definitely thirsty after this shock introduction to the gentlemen’s art of self-defense. I felt a pint was too far away and I needed to drink right now, so I stood up and started to walk towards the drinking faucet. “You’ll regret it,” Jace remarked, barely looking my way. He was half right. The water tasted of metal pipes, but it felt good to splash my face with cold water and cool it down. There were empty holders of a mirror pane mounted on the well. At some point the mirror must have cracked and never been replaced. I wondered how I looked after such a beating. I cupped my hands and brought water up to dump in my hair, and was quickly reminded of how little of it I had left. I could feel trickles down my shaved sides and neck. The sound of the door closing made me realize Jace wasn’t waiting, so I rushed out of the locker room, out through the main doors, and caught up with him slowly walking back the way we came.

It didn’t take long until he deviated from the path we followed to the club. I had no idea where we were, or really where he was taking me, but it was obviously a route as well optimized as the path we took going here. Mostly road, but a few shortcuts through people’s back yards. It looked kind of familiar, but I’ve only walked around these blocks very tired, hangover, drunk and/or high. Now I could add beaten up and exhausted to that list. As we rounded a corner I saw a painted sign hanging out from the building, stating “Fawn’s Head”. I'd seen that pub at some point earlier in the week, but never been near it.

For some reason it looked deserted on the empty street, not that you could really tell about a pub with its door closed. Looks were deceiving, sure enough, because there were quite a few people scattered around inside the pub. It was decidedly not a high-brow clientele. Everywhere I looked I saw track tops, worker's high-viz clothes, and quite a few paint-spattered sweatshirts. I recognized some people from yesterday evening, though not by name. A few people glanced our way, garnering no interest.

I followed Jace over to the barman and witnessed a play in gestures. The barman gave Jace a nod. Jace gave him a nod. Then he nodded sideways towards me. Then the barman poured two lager, and placed them in front of us. Jace was clearly a regular, though I wasn’t even sure he was 18 yet. Without a word we grabbed our beers and started to empty the glass. It was the best-tasting beer I’ve had all week. Not because of the beer, but because this was the end of a hard day at the end of a hard week. Whatever part of my body didn’t hurt after hauling ice and fish, Jace had made tender, either directly by knocking me out, or with the bag punching exercises. But this was the end of...

- HEY!

Jace had turned towards the room and shouted at the top of his lungs. It instantly became dead silent.

- Is Chayse innit!

Everyone shifted their eyes onto me. What the hell was Jace doing?

- Fuck with him, fuck with me!

There was a second of tense silence in the room. I didn’t dare breathe.

- On me. Cheers!

The room erupted in loud cheers, followed by an explosion of chatter. Some guy in blue carpenter trousers and a blue sweatshirt, both splattered with hundreds of tiny white dots of paint, jumped up from his seat and grabbed the first of the new beers. As he was turning to get back to his table, he stopped as if he realized he should pay for the beer somehow, and slapped my sore shoulder.

- Connor’s the name. Why don’t you lad join our table for a wee bit?

Before I could even agree to that, he started shoving me in the direction towards the table. I pulled an extra chair and sat down with his crew of builders. Conner, Kieran, Tommy, and Callum. To my surprise their work stories about bad shoes, early mornings, lunch places, all felt relevant to me, and I had a few insights that fit into the conversation. Once I’ve emptied my beer I excused myself for a smoke, but Callum got up and told me to follow him. We walked out on the back and there was a large smokers patio with two groups in either end talking. Callum brought me to one of the groups and the others there greeted me and introduced themselves.

It turned out that none of them actually knew Jace, but they had seen him around. They themselves didn’t know each other that well either. They usually sat with their pals and then just came together outside for a smoke. As they started to move back inside, a tall, hard-looking guy from the other group walked across the patio.

- Hey come here!

He was shaved bald, wore shiny, black Puma clothes with red zippers and details, and a pair of black Dr. Martens. He clearly worked out, but even if he hadn’t his height alone was intimidating. It didn’t sound like a request either. Callum got the hint and quickly stubbed out his fag.

- See you around. - Yeah.

While he returned inside the pub the shaved guy motioned with his shiny head towards the other two who silently smoked at the other end. They looked every bit as tough as this guy. A bit older but just as muscled, one with buzzed heads and tracksuits, the other with a mohawk, adidas top, and dark blue adidas joggers. As I started to walk towards them, the shaved guy walked behind me, like he was herding me. Dammit, I’m also shaved, although not completely. I must stop thinking of myself as looking so different than them. Anyone who stumbled out into the patio would assume we four were a group. As I stopped he pushed me in the back to force me uncomfortably close to the other two. The older of the two, standing just in my face, made a deep drag, and blew a cloud of smoke in my face. I’m sure it was intended as disrespectful and intimidating, but it took all my self-discipline to not inhale it, even though I had just finished a smoke myself. He gave me a nod and spoke.

- Jace new runner innit. - I don’t know wh... - Shut the fuck.

I could feel the color draining from my face. Apparently there was a reason why they all left me alone outside with these guys. He continued.

- I don’t give a fuck what you do, but stay out of our business. If you see any of us you do as you’re told. Got it? - Yes. - Good. Now lick my balls. - What? - You heard me mate.

A wave of fatigue washed over me. I had been shaved and punched and drugged and so much more. Everything was unreal. This was not me, this was not my life. It’s just that with a pint in my hand and nice people around I slipped and forgot. Like an emotionally drained whore on her tenth fuck for the day I silently went down on my knees in front of his crotch. He patted my head on the exposed skin.

- This is what we like, lads, innit.

And then he tilted my head back up and looked me in the eyes.

- Remember your place next time we tell you to do something.

Then he let go and looked up at the others.

- Let's go for another, lads.

He dropped his smoldering fag on the ground in front of me as they left, and I hated that my first instinct was to pick it up and put it in my mouth. Who were they? What did they mean by Jace's runner? They had already left the patio by the time I got up and looked around. A group of patrons just walked into the patio and nodded in my direction. I nodded back and headed back into the pub, past them. I needed to find Jace and ask him what the guys meant. It wasn't hard to find him inside the pub, despite it filling up in the moments he had been out. He was standing next to a table close to the entrance, towering over the guy standing next to him. He probably towered over most people. The guy next to him was passionately talking to him. Jace saw me, and reached out like for a handshake.

- Oi Chayse, be a minute.

I grabbed his hand and felt something small in my hand. Jace winked at me.

- First one's free bruv.

He handed me a half-emptied pint glass and turned back to the guy. I stepped away and looked into my hand. A small, white pill. I felt both neglected and thankful at the same time. Of course he should finish whatever this is, but I felt we needed to talk right now. I took a large swig out of the glass and realized as I swallowed that I had already put the pill in my mouth. I was just running on autopilot after everything that had happened during this week.

Something was moving in my peripheral, and I turned to see a few guys at a table waving at me. I went to join them to kill time. I felt like I was losing grip of reality again, because the man who waved me to the table came back from the bar with a fresh lager and sat it down in front of me, while one of the other guys at the table was talking about their day of road maintenance. I was jolted back into the present, looking up at the man, Rob was it? He was smiling at me kindly. I thanked him and took a sip of the beer, and a shiver of pleasure went through me. It was even better tasting than the one I had earlier. The guy who was talking was detailing all the problems with one of the stores next to the road where they had laid stones during the day. He was about my age, but more tanned and crow's feet by the eyes after having been outdoor so much. No, this was Rob. His pitch-black hair was gelled up, and his face was framed on the other side by a black T-shirt with a big, yellow "Powell Construction" logo. I realized I had stopped listening to him and was lost in his grey-blue eyes, when he asked me something.

- Sorry mate, I have to piss.

At the moment I said it I realized it was actually true, and somewhat wobbly got up and headed towards the gents. They nodded and smiled. Jace wasn't standing where I had last seen him, I noted on the way to the gents, nor did I see him anywhere else. I wasn't sure I could trust my senses fully. What had he given me? Molly? It must have been part of it, as everything and everyone was lovely. I double-checked the sign on the door and entered the gents. Two sinks, two urinals, and a door to a proper toilet. As I walked by the mirrors over the sinks I turned my head, almost like a reflex, but stopped in my tracks.

I looked horrible. It wasn't the brutal hair, or the eyebrows, or the piercings, or the clothes. I looked like a criminal mug shot. My face was subtly swollen and bruised from the pummeling I've gotten from Jace an hour or two ago. There wasn't any specific thing I could point out. Just that I looked off. I didn't look like me anymore. Fascinated, almost mesmerized by my own ugliness I touched and poked my face. Nothing hurt. Not specifically anyway. I'm sure it would look better tomorrow, but it was unnerving still.

As I reached the urinal I realized I had a stiffy. I hoped the black adidas joggers had hidden it from Rob and whatever his name was, but I couldn't be sure. Well, this wasn't the place to do anything about it, so I simply aimed forward and let go, pissing straight into the wall of the urinal. Despite me swaying more than I would have liked or expected, the only thing I got on me was a fine mist of back splatter. I was clearly more intoxicated or high or whatever than I thought, so I don't know how long I stood with my dick out and forehead against the wall, just waiting for the dripping to stop. I was kind of hoping to also get soft, but had to settle for a semi.

I was pulling my joggers up when someone entered. I didn't take any notice of him until someone shouted "Hey" in my ear, and pushed me into the room with the toilet. He shoved me down on the lid facing him, and locked the door. It was one of the goons from the outside patio, the one with the mohawk, adidas top and joggers. He had a week-old beard and looked a bit tired as well. I knew I should be intimidated by him, but somehow I just felt like I wanted to hug him. I had this unexplainable urge to touch him. He glanced at the ceiling, looking for a smoke detector, then picked a cigarette and a lighter from a pocket. While looking down on me he slowly put the cigarette to his mouth and lit it, inhaled deeply, and exhaled the smoke on me. To his confusion this time I inhaled deeply as well. Not only did I want to embrace him. I wanted to french kiss him and suck the smoke out of his lungs. What the fuck was wrong with me?

He regained his composure. He was also clearly a bit drunker than before.

- I want to be fucking clear with you. When we tell you what to do, you do it. - Sound, mate.

This wasn't going how either of us had expected. My eyes kept darting between his face and the chain he had around his neck. Somehow it looked so pretty, glittering in the fluorescent tube light. Everything looked pretty. He struggled with what to do next.

- Lick it. Lick the groin.

I looked down. The loose, dark blue adidas joggers didn't reveal much, but a little bump indicated where his dick was. For some reason, I don't know why, I did as he said, leaned forward, and let my tongue run up and down the fabric. It didn't taste like much. I moved forward and licked with a bit more pressure. I could hear him inhale from the cigarette again.

- Ok, alright. I need to piss.

He grabbed me and stood me up with one arm, and unlocked the door with the other.

- Share the fag? - What?

It took him a second to realize I asked for his cigarette. His intimidation ploy had not gone the way he wanted, though I was at the same time both zen and wondering what the fuck was going on. He handed me the cigarette. I stepped out and he closed the door behind me. I finished the cigarette and threw it in the urinal.

[thedreadvampy]

well if I get nothing else out of it my recent obsession with Melanie King has caused me to learn a lot about enucleation surgeries

anyway I think I assumed empty eye sockets would be more out of shape but it turns out there's a lot of Stuff in there that isn't eyeball, who knew?

I find eye surgery fascinating which is unfortunate because for a lot of people is one of their biggest squick points. but like the structure of the eye and eye socket are SO INTERESTING they're so MECHANICAL

anyway if you're interested I'm like 90% sure the Melanie surgical details are more or less as follows: (warning I'm trying not to be gross but it's potentially a bit graphic if eye stuff or surgery stuff is a Thing for you)

DISCLAIMER I haven't had any experience with this surgery, I'm not blind/partially sighted and I'm not a doctor, I'm just googling and reading a lot of patient advisories

In an enucleation, they effectively just sever the muscles holding the eye as close as possible to the eye itself, peel them back, then carefully sever the optic nerve and pop the eye out.

depending on how extensive the damage was, the most likely surgery for this type of eye trauma is eye removal. this could be enucleation, which is where the whole eye is removed (including the sclera and optic nerve) but the muscle, fat, connective tissue and eyelids surrounding it are kept. it could also be an evisceration, where they just remove the innards of the eye, but either way post-surgically they look pretty much the same.

If she managed to fully blind herself, regardless of how badly damaged the eye is, they'll consider removal. Advice says 'if the eye is blind to light [ie fully blind] and painful, removal should be considered'. Removal really substantially reduces the pain in most cases.

It's not a long procedure - the NHS says to expect a 48 hour stay but that's standard overnight observation for surgery requiring general anaesthetic

After the eye is removed, they'll put in a plastic or organic spherical implant to fill the space and hold everything in place. it's made with a bone-like tunnelled surface so that the tissue of your eye socket can graft onto it and give it some of the motion that an eye would have, and they just suture the muscle back into place and leave it to take

In an evisceration it's similar except instead of severing the muscle and nerve, they cut into the sclera (the tissue making up the surface of the eye), open up the eye and remove all the Bits (the lens, cornea, vitreous fluid etc), then they put the implant inside the shell of sclera and suture the sclera and conjunctiva back up over the front.

Evisceration is the preferred method where possible because it's a lot simpler and less invasive. So whether or not Melanie had an evisceration or an enucleation depends on how badly she damaged her eyes (I imagine mostly whether she went in far enough/roughly enough to significantly damage the sclera/eye socket)

There are other eye removal surgeries that remove stuff around the eyes (like the lids) or that don't allow for implants, but those are much more for very extensive damage (or tumors/aggressive infections) not really the sort of targeted damage Melanie inflicted.

After surgery, your eyelids are stitched together for the first few weeks to give them time to adjust. it's a single stitch that's removed after 2-3 weeks. behind that they put a 'conformer' which is a piece of clear plastic to prevent the eyelids contracting as they heal.

It should stop hurting after a couple of days, but for the first few days you may get a lot of headaches and nausea (eyestrain symptoms, basically)

It heals pretty fast (you're meant to be back to normal activity after bit over a week, although you shouldn't rub or touch your eyes for a fortnight). you have to wear bandages and pads for the first week to keep the swelling down, but after that you wouldn't expect to have bandaged eyes.

while your eyes are stitched closed you are going to gently wash them in boiled water periodically to clear up any mucus or dried blood. once the stitches come out you're going to have to do antibiotic eye drops for a while to keep it clean and safe while it heals

It takes 2-3 months for your eye socket to heal well enough to start fitting a prosthetic (I'm not sure what the time scale is with Melanie's situation bc I don't know how long has meant to have passed between MAG154 and MAG160, but my sense is that since 8 weeks is the minimum to start the fitting process and the actual prosthetic production can take a while, she probably didn't have time to get set up with prosthetics)

Prosthetics are an aesthetic choice not a health one. your eye will be fine without one, the glass/plastic prosthetic eyes aren't structural bc you've got that implant they put in during surgery too fill the space of your eye, they're just a cover that fits over the front of the implant to make it look more like an eye (sort of like putting in a giant contact lens). before you're fitted for a prosthetic you're going to keep wearing the conformer to help your eyelids keep their shape.

The implant (sans prosthetic) doesn't fill the whole of the same space as an eye, if I'm understanding right, because the prosthetic has to fit snugly behind the eyelids. Natural eyes aren't spherical, they curve out at the front with the lens and iris sitting on top of the orb, and the glass eye takes up that space.

Because of that, an enucleated eye without a prosthetic in doesn't push against the eyelids the way a whole eye does. There's still a curvature to the lid - you can still see the orb behind it, they aren't falling back into the socket like with a non-surgically removed missing eye - but if the eye is open the lids are likely to be a bit slack and droopy compared to before the enucleation. to me it looks a lot like a severe lazy eye - often very nearly closed and with a downward slant. the eyelid often needs surgical correction even with a prosthetic in to look the way it did before losing the eye.

in the open eye, you can see the implant clearly. when it's healed it will be mostly overgrown with conjunctiva (the tissue that you can see around the rim of your eye and on the backs of your eyelids). this means it's pinkish-red, with fleshy tissue stretched quite thinly over the the white of the implant. then a prosthetic will go over the top of that if it's worn, between the conjunctiva on the outside of the implant and the inside of the eyelid. the fact that the conjunctiva is covering hard white "bone" rather than skin means that the implant looks a slightly lighter pink than the rims of the eyes and has a somewhat different texture.

Light won't cause pain (sunglasses would, again, be an aesthetic choice not a practical one - it's not like some surgeries that leave you very light sensitive, you haven't really got anything to BE light sensitive) but early on moving your eyes too much or rubbing them might hurt.

Unless you get an injection you shouldn't need much physical followup beyond getting your stitches out, but the NHS provides counseling services to help you adjust to losing the eye (and I assume this is more substantial for something like Melanie's case where you go from being fully-sighted to fully blind in a sudden and traumatic way. I'm struggling to find anything about what to expect from bilateral enucleation and I imagine that's because the circumstances that require removing both eyes are fairly limited, since surgical enucleation is pretty rare anyway and usually it's because of an accident or a cancer which are likely to mostly affect one eye)

once you get a prosthetic, it stays in most of the time - you don't remove it to sleep, swim, bathe or anything else. you take it out and wash it once every few weeks. it can be uncomfortable to start with and feel too tight behind your eyelids. you pop it out with a wee plunger and put it in like a giant contact lens.

this means unless she really screwed up her blinding and had to have drastic surgery like removing her lids or muscles, which I don't think is likely to be the case, her face probably won't look super different by S5 except that her eyes will be droopier and more half-closed than before (if she's not wearing prosthetics. if she is wearing prosthetics they'll probably look normal she just won't be able to focus on anything or like. see. but visually the lack of focal depth should be the only tell). what you can see of her 'eyes' probably won't be the classic symbol-of-blindness Empty White Orbs - they'll be a similar shape to an eyeball and a similar colour to the rims of her eyes/her tear duct. she might be wearing sunglasses but she probably wouldn't bother in the apocalypse unless it really worried her how she looked. she almost certainly wouldn't have bandages, pads or patches over her eyes. she might well be wearing a conformer if it's up to a couple of months after the surgery, which will make her 'eyes' shinier and from the looks of photos, maybe look darker/redder? if she's got a prosthetic, it will probably be a standard one (because custom ones are really expensive) which means it may not perfectly match how her eyes looked before and will probably not be anything funky like rainbows or idk, cat eyes, however fun I think that would be. if she's wearing a prosthetic or conformer she's likely to want to use eyedrops because they can be a bit dry and itchy on the eyelids.

[solacefruit]

🎁?

Any writing advice for people who want to write something like this? 

I’m guessing you’re asking re: make a mighty sound, so I’ll answer for that! 

If I’m honest, this was a learning experience for me too, because I haven’t written a fanfiction of this length before and I was actually a little wary of trying it. I’m someone who greatly prefers to finish something, then reveal only once it’s done, rather than work in this more episodic, serial format. Very much a “don’t tell people your plans, show them your results” person, because I feel that its easier for me to produce completed work if I don’t get the joy and validation and relief until after I’ve actually created the work and washed my hands of it. 

So I don’t really have any tips for writing serial content, as that’s something I’m still figuring out for myself. But more generally, I can strongly, strongly recommend having an end goal in mind before you begin--kind of no matter how long the work you’re embarking on. If you’re writing something with multiple parts, I think it helps a lot to decide on the particular moments that need to happen to get to that end and then use those kind of like landmarks as you write your way towards it. 

I’m someone who improvises a lot while writing. For example, when I started m.a.m.s. I knew at some point towards the end I would include a story from wayfarers that would be about a cat of many colours. I didn’t actually know what exactly that story would be until I got there, and I wrote it, but I knew what that moment would need to do for the narrative as a whole and what its purpose was for the characters. By stringing all these beads of crucial narrative moments along, I’ve found that a story sort of organically develops peaks and valleys and a nice rhythm without having to intentionally plan that too much. 

Which leads me to: I don’t think you need to plan everything out before you begin, and I definitely never do. I think you should aim to feel confident in your world, though, because that means when you inevitably come to an empty space, you’ll know what should be there and what belongs in the moment and you can put it in briefly and then keep going. It’s kind of like doing a trust fall with yourself and your familiarity with the world you’re making.

I’ve found letting the narrative’s needs guide what world-building I include helps too, and keeps things nicely sparse and necessary. It can be so easy as a speculative fiction writer to fall into being so excited with your world to the point where you let the world-building lead, instead of the characters and narrative, and while that definitely appeals to some readers, I do feel--at least, for me personally--that it weakens the work overall. I don’t usually intend to include any particular piece of world-building or culture or anything like that from the outset, and then as the story develops, I go, “oh this thing is relevant now,” or “this is the right moment to mention that detail” as opportunities and gaps in the world naturally arise. 

Finally, I think if it takes you more than one sitting to write, it can be super helpful to just write dot-point style notes for where the scene or chapter you’re working on is going, so you can jump right back in when you return. I often will sketch out a very loose projection of a chapter before I start writing for that sitting, mostly as a highlights reel for me to remember the main things or details I want to include. For me, these notes are often very basic! To give an example, below are some notes from chapters 12/13 of m.a.m.s: 

[not a fight, but a conflict of worldviews and values; cypress is happy living with humans, talltail is clearly not + meant to live wild, ideally on the moor] 

[they make up, because they love each other, but it’s a little uneasy, because time is finite]

[break]

[talltail has a dream of the moor; a strange hare races with him through the summer heat, speaking somewhat cryptically about what he wants and where he is going]

[he wakes next to cypress, who asks him if it’s the dream again--it is; talltail isn’t sure what it means, or if it means anything. He’s sure it’s not an omen, not from starclan; in it he’s always alone with the hare, no other cats--not even cypress]

[break]

[storytelling in a group again, but this time Pip takes a turn and tells a story that Wee Hen told her long ago, before passing--something to remember her by]

[a story about the cat of many colours: who traded with everyone she met until her fur was so many colours--tabby (???), white (magpie?), ginger (fox), grey (???), etc., and when she has her kittens, some are patched, some are tortoiseshell, etc.]

[talltail realises how much he is made up of the people he’s learned from, both in good and bad ways: his parents, dawnstripe, elmface, the elders, cypress, pip, the ancestors]

[talltail thinks about privetfoot’s message: who are you, whose journey do you want to be part of]

As you can see, there’s very little actual detail here! I cut things up into chunks so it’s easy to rearrange them as I try to figure out what feels right where, and a lot of the time I’ll write the bare minimum--i.e., “they talk about their feelings”--or will straight up have question marks for things I haven’t decided on yet. But it makes it a lot easier to remember my train of thought or where things need to go next if I’m interrupted or writing over more than one sitting. 

Not sure if any of this is helpful, but I hope it’s at least interesting to see a bit of my process! 

[love-minor-poltergeist]

Hi I really enjoyed your Cuphead scenarios :) If you're still taking asks, could I ask for romantic scenario with Grimm Matchstick?

A/N: Grimm seems like a big ol’ scaly sweetheart and he deserves all the love in the world tbh…This is also my first time writing for this sweet boy, so lemme know if you want me to redo this anytime!

(Also, I’m super sorry for the long wait. I had an idea that ended up growing out of hand, and here we are :’D)

Word Count: 5974

Warnings: None

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

The sweet aroma of French vanilla and cocoa scented the air like a heavy perfume. Most would describe the smell as overwhelming, even too sugary, but it was simply the norm for anyone who worked for Baroness von Bon Bon. In the case of one Grimm Matchstick, his nose had grown mostly numb from years of handling fires and smoke.

However, today seemed to prove the opposite for the dragon, as he can already feel the faint traces of a headache slowly start to creep in. He can feel the weight in his stomach worsen the longer he dwelled in the Baroness' private guest room, the soft embroidered silk cushions of the couch he sat on doing nothing to ease his tense muscles. 

Across from him sat Bon Bon herself, quietly puffing away at the slender cigarette holder wedged between two thin fingers. She calmly leaned against the back of her armchair, amber eyes lidded as she stared at the small, thin book that laid on top of the ornate coffee table between them. 

Grimm could feel his throat grow warmer the longer he sat there, the familiar ashy taste of smoke hitting his tongue as he fiddled with a loose scale on his hand. He lost track of how long he and Bon Bon had been sitting in silence, and the dragon wasn't too sure if he wanted to interrupt the smaller woman before him. 

Before the dragon could ponder further, his friend's smooth, calm voice interrupted his train of thought. 

"I take it that the book I lent you wasn't much help?" Bon Bon leaned forward, chin propped up on a gloved hand. 

Grimm felt a blush warm his cheeks as he silently nodded. Dark eyes flitted over to his lap, only occasionally straying away to stare at the unhelpful manual between them.

Courteous Courtship for the Romantically Clumsy had proven to be a humiliating bust, to put it lightly. Grimm had tried his absolute best to follow what the manual had told him, he truly did. However, each time he had tried to approach and woo you, it always ended in one of two ways: 

He had either ended up growing tongue-tied at the last minute, which led to him fumbling until he was a red mess and you offered to get the nurse from the medical tent, or you had given him that small, sweet smile you saved for him and thanked him for being so nice.

Not smooth, handsome or dashing as a knight like the book insisted he’d be after reading the entire thing back to front, just a nice friend who was just shy and viewed you in a perfectly platonic light.

Grimm let out a low, anguished whine before he shoved his face into his hands, distressed. Across from him, Bon Bon let out a small sigh. The calm and collected mask she wore was fading as a worried frown pulled on her lips, hard amber eyes softening at the sight before her. 

She had been the first one Grimm had come to about his little crush on you, and a part of her couldn’t but feel a tad responsible for this predicament. 

You had happened to be the newest addition to her work staff, which meant that she held the most contact out of both of them. Despite the sometimes grueling workdays and the days where her temperament was far from friendly, you had always been a sweet-tempered little thing. 

You were a wee-bit oblivious (well, maybe more so very oblivious), but kindness and dedication were your strong suits. 

Thinking further about it now, it wasn’t surprising to Bon Bon at all that Grimm ended up developing a crush on you. 

He was rather shy and soft-spoken, and despite his towering stature, it was easy to forget Grimm was there. 

Most people usually brushed him off as rather dull once they had spoken to him after his fire-handling performances, which didn’t do much for the dragon’s already fragile self-confidence. He ended up growing rather lonely because of it.

But then you came along. 

You had happened to be a frequent attendee of his performances, so frequent that Grimm had almost always expected to see you in the crowd when it was his turn to perform. 

‘They m-m-made me a little nervous at first. But then we started talking, and well, I got even more jittery. I m-m-mean, they’re adorable, Bonnie! I can’t help but be a little bit happy that they like watching me!’ Grimm had told her once. 

Even before Bon Bon began to help out her timid friend, Grimm had already been a tiny bit infatuated with you. 

When the two of you finally started talking to each other during your breaks, it was enough to make him fall head over heels. You were always eager to greet him, always eager to hear about how he was doing and what he was planning later.

Hell, you had ended up earning such a high place in his heart that Grimm even decided to share the few musical pieces he’s worked on with you. Bon Bon herself had been the only other person to know about Grimm’s hobby. 

In other words, the dragon had it bad for you. To see the sweet dragon so torn up about this was enough to make Bon Bon’s chest ache. 

With another light puff of her thin cigarette, Bon Bon stared down at the dating manual in between the two of them. 

What to do, what to do… 

It was already evident that it had been no help whatsoever, and the only reason she kept that outdated, poorly-written excuse for a book around was that Grimm had insisted on borrowing it. 

She quietly let out a scoff at the thought and idly flicked her cigarette over a nearby ashtray. 

She had highly doubted it would have helped him win you over anyway. You seemed far too fond of Grimm’s actual personality than some ridiculous forced persona he had tried to put on. After all, why else would you keep visiting him on your breaks? Why else would your gaze soften the moment Grimm’s back turned away from you? For someone as attentive as the dragon in mention, he sure was (almost annoyingly so) oblivious to the idea that his little crush may not be as one-sided as he feared.

The candied noble lets out another sigh, her brow furrowing in frustration. 

She loved Grimm. She truly did. He was always a delight to be around, and he was a sweet reprieve from dealing with infuriating business partners or Beppi for an entire day. However, after all of these failed attempts (the dating manual was far from the first botched plan), two of the most oblivious fools together was beginning to wear her patience thin. 

“ ‘m s-s-sorry, Bonnie. I know you probably have better things to do…” Grimm trailed off, and it’s enough to snap the baroness back into attention.

“What? No, no, Grimm, it’s fine. I’m,” She paused for a moment. “I’m just thinking, is all.” 

“O-oh, okay.” 

His dark eyes lowered back to his lap as the pair fell silent again. 

With the thin cigarette holder still burning away in her hand, Bon Bon quietly stared at the man across from her. 

He was doing that thing again, that thing where he tried not to look as miserable as he felt on the inside but failed majorly. The way his floppy ears drooped sadly was more than enough to form a crack in her stoic mask.

The last thing Bon Bon wanted to do was force him into an uncomfortable situation, but she didn’t think she'd be able to take another failed attempt. With the sight of a crestfallen, soft-hearted fool like him laid out before her, it was the fuel she needed to take matters into her own hands finally.

She takes in a small breath before lifting the thin holder to her lips. The soft, subtle burn of cigarette smoke fills her lungs as she takes in one last puff before clapping her hands.

Within seconds, a small peppermint dressed in a pink maid’s uniform hesitantly peaked her head through the double doors. Bon Bon quickly waved her in. 

Bon Bon spared another glance towards the dragon not too far away, and she made a mental hum as he hadn’t moved from his slump. Good, she needed him to remain oblivious for the time being just so that she could reach the midpoint of her impromptu plan. 

Just as the round little maid held out a pink ceramic ashtray, the baroness silently leaned over to the side of her head. Watching Grimm from the corner of her eyes, Bon Bon quietly whispers.

“Could you send up our little recruit? The one with the penchant for a certain green gentleman?”

Red and white brows knitted together for a moment, but they soon raised as the maid’s eyes lit up when she quickly caught on. She gave her boss an eager nod, silently mouthing a small “thank you, my baroness.” With another nod, Bon Bon handed off her cigarette, holder included, before calmly leaning back onto her chair. 

Cheeks mottled with an eager flush, the maid gave her boss one last giddy nod before hurrying off to the door, the ashes from the tiny tray in her hands nearly spilling from her eager pace.

The door opened and closed with a hurried slam that resonated throughout the room, causing Bon Bon to flinch lightly. Grimm, however, merely spared a small glance behind him before sighing. 

Just as he was moving to stare at his lap again dejectedly, Bon Bon cleared her throat. A wave of sheepish embarrassment washed over him, as he had completely forgotten that his friend was right in front of him amid his moping!

“Oh, sorry, Bonnie. Did you need something?”

A hint of annoyance flashed across the baroness’ face for a brief moment, and she nearly clicked her tongue. She gently shook her head, though, and took in a deep breath, her eyes slipping closed briefly before continuing. 

“Well, Grimm, maybe it’s time you had a reminder about our little goal here. Don’t you agree?” She said, chin perched on a gloved hand. 

“Uhh, okay?” Grimm’s brow furrowed in confusion, apprehension filling his stomach. 

And that apprehension spiked into a nervous sweat when your name slipped past her heart-shaped lips.

"You like them a lot, don't you?"

The dragon nodded. 

"And you wish to court them, correct?" She continued. 

He nodded again, a faint blush dusting his cheeks. 

"Well, why don't you first think of what sort of date you would take them on? Not what some trashy dating book told you.." 

Grimm's shoulders immediately tensed up, biting down on his lip to hold back the sheepish squeak steadily bubbling up in his throat. While Bon Bon had been there for him for all his ups and downs, not to mention that she probably knew him better than anyone on Inkwell, sharing what kind of dates he's daydreamed about was a little…embarrassing.

"Bonnie, are you sure? It's kind of-"

"Grimm, I've known you for years now. I assure you, whatever fantasies you may have are probably nowhere near as humiliating as you think they are," She interrupted in a flat voice, waving her dainty hand. 

She had a good point. Then again, Grimm supposed as someone of her social status, she probably has seen worse. 

The dragon nervously fidgeted in place for another few seconds, taking his tail into scaly hands as he sucked in a deep breath. He could feel the smaller woman's stare focused on him, and he couldn't help but feel like an ant under a magnifying glass. Grimm quietly counted to ten to ease his nerves. 

With one last nervous breath, Grimm started. 

"Ah, well, I know it's probably not the best idea for a first date, but I thought it'd be nice to take them to the clip joint. N-n-not to drink or anything like that! But to hear the band performing there! M-m-my friends in the band over there would like them, too!" 

Bon Bon felt the beginning of a smile tug on her lips. Of course. Leave it to Grimm to find a way to make a hole-in-the-wall place like the clip-joint sound charming. She quietly waved for him to continue. 

"And if it hasn't gotten too late, I'd think it'd be awfully swell to see if some of the bakeries are still open. It's usually nice and quiet in the later hours. M-m-makes me feel a lot less antsy…" Grimm raised a hand to his cheek, turning his head off to the side.

"...It'd be nice to talk, you know? I mean, we kind of already do that a lot when they're on their break, but I just like spending time with them." 

A toothy smile broke out on his face, a soft red dusting his scaly cheeks. 

Bon Bon, on the other hand, felt her chest growing tighter by the minute. Dear heavens, she hoped that her impromptu plan would work. 

Then, as if some divine force had finally willed them into existence, Bon Bon had heard the familiar click of tiny heels against tiled floors. 

She quietly made a mental note to give the maid a raise after this. For someone with legs as tiny as hers, the woman worked fast.

Bon Bon ignored the growing sweat in her palms as she quietly cleared her throat. The dreamy, faraway look in Grimm's eyes quickly faded away as he jumped. He whipped his head back towards her.

"O-oh, sorry. Too much?" He asked, too focused on his friend to register the two sets of footsteps growing closer. 

"Not at all, Grimm," Bon Bon cleared her throat again. "I was just wondering something...How would you ask them out on a date?" 

Grimm made a choked sound, his eyes wide and nervous. 

"It's just…We've been trying to follow the advice written by some old fart who died years ago and you..." Bon Bon trails off for a moment, her lips pulling into a small frown, her brows creasing in worry, "Well, it just feels like you've been doing everything you can to follow someone else's idea of the ‘right’ way to like someone.." 

Her voice grew quiet, eyes lidded as her gaze trailed over to the book between them. The pages have long since taken a yellowish hue from age, the cover nearly-pristine from sitting untouched in her family’s library for untold amounts of years. 

“Bonnie, I,” Grimm trails off for a moment. “I know it’s dumb. But it’s just… what if they don’t like me?” 

A sharp pang filled the smaller woman’s chest. She could feel the threads of guilt begin to weave themselves into the back of her head, chastising her for growing tired and impatient with her friend. The voices increased louder in volume with each passing minute as heeled feet drew closer. 

There wasn’t time to turn back, though. 

“Grimm, I know you’re afraid that they don’t feel the same, but I think it’d be better for you in the long run if you just came to them like you normally talk to them. If they say no, then they say no, and you’ll be fine. They’re not going to outright shun you. They like you for you.”

The dragon sat quietly for a few moments, eyes glued down to his hands as the stone weight grew heavier in the baroness’ stomach. 

She wasn’t typically one to panic when it came to situations like these, but the thought of everything going up in flames had already taken root. It wouldn’t be long until the footsteps reached the door, and she needed to act fast. 

While her hands grew clammier under velvetine gloves, Bon Bon took in a sharp breath before forcing herself to stand up. She walked towards him tentatively, the same way you’d go about approaching a fragile, injured bird, and gently reached towards him. Grimm didn’t move away as gloved hands cup his face. 

Painted lips offered up a weak smile. 

“Besides, I think they’d much prefer something real from you than whatever that was you tried to give them last week. It was a little painful to watch you try to act like one of those old-timey knights. ” 

Grimm groaned, eyes sliding closed as he made a weak whine.

“You promised that we’d never speak of that again…” He mumbled, desperately fighting back a smile as Bon Bon quietly snorted. 

“I know, I know… These lips will stay sealed, but you have to promise me that you’ll try to ask them out as yourself,” She chastised, almost tutting at the towering dragon before her. 

“I-I... I will. It’s just nerve-wracking,” he mumbles. 

“I know it is, Grimm, but you-” 

Bon Bon was suddenly cut off by the sound of a tiny fist rapping at the door, causing the dragon in her hands to jump and pry himself away. She fought back the urge to let out a frustrated growl, and instead pinched the space between her brows. 

Dammit, it looks like she has to move now. 

Sparing the door one last glance, she turned her head back towards Grimm. 

Think fast, Bon Bon. 

“I think that’s for me. One of my business partners had wanted to call me about a shipment arriving later in the month,” She said curtly, desperately hoping that Grimm wasn’t able to hear how her heart was beating a mile a minute. 

“Oh! That’s fine, Bonnie. I think it’s about time I head out anyways-”

“NO!” 

Grimm immediately shrunk back into his seat, eyes wide. 

“I mean, it will only take a few minutes or so to finish up. Wait here, please? I’ll have one of the maids bring over some tea.”

Before the man could even begin to protest, the baroness was already out the door, leaving him glued to his seat, absolutely dumbfounded at what just transpired. 

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

Once she had closed the door behind her, Baroness von Bon Bon immediately whipped her head towards you. Her bright amber eyes practically stared into your soul as she moved to grab your shoulders with an iron-tight grip. 

A startled noise barely even escaped your lips before she spoke.

"You. I need you to return the book on the guest room coffee table back to the library," She pauses for a second. "Be sure to take your time, though." 

Just as you were about to ask if she was alright (you were certain those were beads of sweat you spy running down on her face, after all), she had already turned to face your coworker.

"And you, please bring some tea for our guest. He must be parched right about now."  

You could only see the side of her face right now, but you swear that you saw something flash in her eyes, that particular 'something' proving enough to make the far more paranoid part of your brain act up.

It didn't help that the maid who brought you here seemed to be in on whatever was happening right now, the small peppermint beside you giving the taller woman an eager "yes, my baroness!" before all but bolting off. 

Baroness von Bon Bon quickly fell silent as the maid turned the corner, yellow eyes staring off into the empty air as her heart-shaped lips pulled into a tight frown, brows furrowed. Neither of you made a move, the air stagnant and heavy. It was rather awkward, to put it lightly. 

"My baroness?" 

You narrowly managed to hold back the urge to flinch as she whipped her head towards you, her eyes wide. 

"Is...is everything alright? You look a little bit nervous-" 

"Nothing is amiss if that's what you're asking," She sharply cuts you off. "I'm just a bit tied up at the moment with a business partner."

You had an inkling suspicion that wasn't the case. The baroness didn't normally look this flustered when it came to business matters. If anything, she had always looked like she was preparing for a battle of all things, and that was just to sit down and talk about something as mundane as candy shipments. But then again, you could just be overthinking things again. 

Right?

The baroness’ sharp sniff tugged you away from your confused musings, and you nearly jumped when you met her intense amber eyes. 

She moved to place a slender hand on your shoulder, her touch ghosting over the tense muscles as she cleared her throat. 

“Again, take your time. I’m not quite sure how long I’ll be gone.” 

Before you could open your mouth to object or further question her, the baroness had already turned, the downy feathers of her hat whipping across your nose, and made her way down the hall. 

Tongue heavy and useless, you silently watched her turn the corner, leaving you entirely alone save for her quieting footsteps and your jumbled thoughts. 

Well, that certainly wasn’t weird at all. 

You let out a small sigh, hands reaching up to rub at your temples. This assignment wasn’t, by any means, the worst thing you had to do all day, yet you had this strange feeling in your gut that something was up. 

Still, a job was still a job, and unless you could think of a better excuse other than “it just felt off”, it was probably better that you just dipped in and dip out as quickly as you could. The last thing you wanted was to potentially face Bon Bon’s sugar-dusted ire. 

How someone managed to be extremely scary while covered head-to-toe in pink and frills, you’ll never know. Nor do you think you want to.

You turned towards the pink door, apprehension flowing through your veins as you raised a shaky fist and knocked on the door. Almost immediately afterwards, you heard the muffled protest of a couch creaking.

A loud ‘bang’ followed shortly after, and you faintly caught the tail-end of someone letting out a grunt of pain. The couch creaked some more and you could faintly make out nervous muttering. You furrowed your brow for a moment, light frustration clawing at your thoughts, and knocked again, this time with more force.

“Oh! Please come in! Uh, I-I’m decent?” The voice cracked at their attempted joke, tapering off into an awkward, near frantic chuckle. 

Hold on a moment…Was that Grimm on the other side?

Before you knew it, an eager smile had begun to tug on your lips, and you found yourself reaching towards the doorknob. You paused, hand merely inches away from the cool glass handle. 

Things had been a bit weird between the two of you for the past few weeks. Since you had first met him, Grimm had always been the type to keep to himself, never venturing too far into the spotlight (unless it was for his job, of course). He hardly ever raised his voice, even if it meant that others would accidentally end up overlooking him. 

None of which you truly minded. If anything, it made it easier for you to feel at ease around him. Sure, you may or may not have developed the teeny tiniest (and not all obvious) little crush on him, but you digress. Grimm was a bit of a socially awkward dork.

So imagine your surprise when he started forcing himself to be louder; quoting lines from classical literature around you (always romantic ones, too). Hell, he even started to compliment you more, whether it was on how lovely you looked, even when you knew you looked awful.

It was rather sweet of him, but it was enough to pull at your heartstrings. You kept finding yourself stuck in a constant back and forth. Did he possibly feel the same soft-hearted fascination you held for him? Or was Grimm just being nice? Whatever it may be, you desperately didn’t want to get your hopes up.

You gently slapped at your face, desperately trying to ignore the nervous beating of your heart. 

‘Just go in and get out,’ You chided to yourself. ‘If you’re quick, then things won’t get so weird between Grimm.’

You grasped onto the doorknob tightly. The glass was cool against your sweat-slicked palms, each ridge pressing a swirled imprint into your skin from how tightly you were holding on. With one last nervous breath, you pushed open the door.

You were immediately met with the sight of Grimm, sprawled out onto the table on his stomach. 

The two of you froze. You could feel your eyes go as wide as saucers and mouth fall slack. In a matter of seconds, you watched all color drain from Grimm’s face in stunned silence. The dragon’s mouth flapped open and closed, like a fish gasping for water on land, as high-pitched, dying animal squeaks fell from his lips. 

After what felt like centuries, you were the first one to break the silence. 

“Sooo,” You drawled, voice high and teetering on songful as you fought back a nervous laugh. “Did I walk in at a bad time? Cause, ah…you ain’t looking so decent there, Grimm.” 

The dragon, to his credit, recovered fairly quickly from his catatonic state after that. In nearly the blink of an eye, he shot up from the table quickly, avoiding your gaze. Shaky hands brushed away non-existent dust from his body, the motion stiff and bordering on robotic. 

It was almost enough to distract you from how red his face had gotten. Almost.

You could feel a blush of your own threatening to creep along your cheeks, and you silently cursed your body for reminding you of your crush on the man before you. 

“Sorry about that. I, uh, kinda sorta tripped a little bit when you knocked,” Grimm weakly laughed and rubbed a clawed finger against his cheek. 

“Oh, you’re fine, Grimm! I’m just more surprised you’re here of all places...Aren’t you usually out on your shift?” 

The dragon let out a small hum and nodded, a small, tentative smile on his lips. Your breath hitched, face flooding with warmth. 

“Haha, yeah...Usually I am, but I decided to take the day off. The perks of being your own boss for the most part, you know?” He laughed again, tail wagging against the table behind him.

His tail caused marble table legs to suddenly groan as they pushed across the tiled floor. The two of you jumped, and you nearly missed something small hitting against the floor with a dull thump in your surprise. A few seconds passed before you broke from your startled stupor, and your mind switched back into work mode.

“Oh, hold on Grimm. Bon Bon sent me in here to get something real quick. Let me just go do that and we can chat when I’m done!” 

You were about to brush past him to retrieve the book off the floor, but instead were met with a face full of scaled stomach. Your startled squeak was muffled against warm flesh, causing Grimm’s entire body to stiffen. 

You could feel his breath hitch as you gently pried your face away, and you looked up with him furrowed brows. At this point, Grimm was nearly purple from how much he was blushing. Not that you were any better. You don’t think the room was this warm before. 

Grimm cleared his throat and took a few baby-sized steps away from you. His slitted-pupils wildly darted around the room as a toothy, shaky smile formed on his face.

“Y-you don’t have to do that. I...I mean. You kind of have to, since Bon Bon’s your boss, but I...”

He let out a huff, shaking his head before forcing himself to continue. 

“I was the one to take it out from the library in the first place! Why not let m-me?” 

He was doing it again, desperately trying to take any work you may have by doing it himself. And once again, you could feel your foolish little heart pick up its pace in hope. You mentally huffed, barely resisting the urge to shake your head. Not this time.

“Grimm.” 

The dragon immediately went pale, his smile melting into a sheepish expression.

“That’s nice of you and all, but that’s kind of my job,” You hesitated for a moment. “And…you’re kinda being weird again.” 

“Not that it’s a bad thing!” You quickly threw your hands up. “I thought some of the stuff you did for me earlier was real nice, but...”

“Wait, was I making you uncomfortable this entire time?” A mortified expression overtook him, and a fresh wave of panic washed over you.

“No, no! It’s just that...” You could feel your cheeks growing warm under his gaze, and you quickly turned away. 

“It’s just confusing...” You mumbled out.

You quickly ducked your head down, blood pooling into your cheeks like magma within a volcano. It was pointless. Grimm could definitely still see how red you had become. He was absolutely silently judging you, you thought.

Sneaking a glance up, Grimm was stunned into absolute silence, lips pulled into a taut line. You hugged your shoulders, nails pressing sharp crescent-shaped marks through the thin sleeves of your uniform. 

“C-confusing how?” Grimm asked quietly.

You abruptly lifted your head back to meet his gaze, a shaky frown on your lips. He flinched, ears folding back and shoulders tensing. His eyes watched you with a fixed skittish anticipation, no doubt taking in the ever-growing fire alarm shade of red in your cheeks. 

“It’s just…you’re normally not that forward! Do you know how hard it is to focus when I’m too busy fixating on all the times you called me cute?! Especially when I’m trying to get over my own dumb crush on you so things won’t be awkward between us!”

Your heart was frantically beating against the bars of your rib cage now. Every breath you took felt like a razor against the burning, raw flesh of your throat, and it quickly dawned on you that you had screamed at him.

You had practically announced to the whole world that you had a crush on Grimm. Directly to his face. 

In a matter of seconds, your stomach dropped as your heart leapt into your throat. All the breath in your lungs was stolen away. With pale cheeks and dread creeping up your spine, you forced yourself to look back up at the man standing before you, both of you still as statues.

Green scales were flushed into a brilliant shade of red and cheeks hot to the touch, the embers of a lively, crackling fire safely tucked beneath Grimm’s skin. His mouth trembled for a moment, but the dragon cleared his throat. 

“I,” he started, an unsure smile now forming, “W-what?” 

Raising a close hand to your mouth, you awkwardly coughed into your fist. 

“Well, I guess the cat’s out of the bag now,” You admitted with an uneasy laugh, your legs beginning to tremble. 

“I’ve...kind of liked you for a while now, Grimm, but I just…kinda-sorta figured you didn’t feel the same.”

“Wait,” Grimm interrupted, the smile on his face growing,“You like me? As in...You have an actual crush on me?” 

His voice cracked slightly, but it wasn’t hard to recognize the more upbeat tone his voice had taken. You could hear the gentle rhythmic thumps of his tail against the tiled floors, and a small glance upwards revealed a wobbly grin stretched across his face. 

Dread melted into uncertainty. You felt your brows furrow, throat locked into dumb silence. It took a few seconds for you to take in everything, Grimm’s excited expression never wavering. 

“Y-yeah? I do-” “That’s great!” 

Wait, what? 

Scaly hands reached forward and pulled you into a tight bear hug, causing you to let out a tiny wheeze from how tightly he held onto you. You could faintly hear the steady, giddy pace of his heart beating away within his chest, the wagging of his tail following along in it’s metronomic rhythm. 

“I’ve had a crush on you for a while now, too! I just...I never thought you’d actually feel the same!” 

You peaked up to see his grin turn sheepish, his eyes growing bashful as he met your gaze. He fidgeted in place for a moment, arms still wrapped around you in a tight embrace. 

“Did you know that I had to ask Bon Bon to help me? I figured she would’ve known more about it than I would. I mean, I even asked to borrow this book from her-” “Grimm-”

“At the time I thought “why not?” It said that it would help me become, ah, irresistible-”

“Grimm-” 

“All it did was make me feel like an idiot, though-“ 

“GRIMM!”

The dragon flinched and released you, eyes wide and mouth now clamped shut. 

Free from the overbearingly warm embrace, you took in a deep, shaky breath to get your bearings. Your head was spinning, your heart struggling to stay in your chest from how hard it beated. 

Everything hit you at once. Only seconds after your accidental confession, not only did Grimm actually return your feelings, but it turns out that the big nerd had indeed been flirting (or trying, rather) with you. 

Bright pink soon dusted across your cheeks, spreading across your entire face like a flustered wildfire. An awkward laugh tumbled out of your lips, and you found yourself covering your lips, a flustered grin eagerly stretching itself across your face. Grimm shot you a concerned look for a moment, but it seemed the weight of the situation dawned upon him not long after as a shy grin formed.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to melt into pink, warm-cheeked messes, the two of you shyly trading glances before breaking out into a mess of laughter. 

Once the two of you finally calmed down, Grimm was the first one to speak. 

“Golly, don’t I feel dumb for overthinking this now, huh?” He mumbled to himself, grin softening into a small smile. 

He paused for a moment, tongue wetting his lips before he soldiered on.

“So, ah, I guess now would be a good time to m-m-maybe ask you out? When you’re free, of course-”

“Yes!” 

Poor Grimm nearly jumped at your acceptance. but soon the loud thumps of his tail wagging against the floor fill your ears once more. 

“Then it’s a date, then!” The dragon gave you a toothy grin as his face exploded into red. 

A rapid set of knocks suddenly cut through the soft, vanilla-scent air, and you whipped your head to see the tiny peppermint maid from before opening the door. 

She gently pushed through, a rococo tea set clinking along a tray in her hands. As she raced across to set down the still piping-hot drinks on top of the coffee table, she turned towards you. 

“You might want to make yourself scarce, dearie. The baroness is set to wrap up her phone call soon!”

You quickly nodded, gently pushing past Grimm to snatch up the book off the floor. A brief glance at the cover and title caused you to shoot your soon-to-be date a sly look, earning you a flustered cough for your troubles. 

The peppermint maid soon tugged at your sleeves, silently urging you to get a move on. You turned and mouthed a small ‘I’ll see you during my break’ before you were effectively dragged out by the round older woman. 

You and Grimm shared a tiny wave of goodbye before you were out the door, book still clasped in your hands. 

As you quietly parted ways with the maid along the halls, you eagerly planned out an outfit to wear for your now upcoming date.

[thatveganwhiterose]

Elvira isn’t doing well folks. CW: bodily fluids, animal in pain, negative post. Long post ahead. Friday, March 13: She started vomiting at 3:30am. It was white, and chunky. We took her on her usual walk, in hopes that her eating grass would help. She ate grass, threw up a couple of times. We gave her breakfast, and she threw up five times: chunky white with food, and overtime with yellow bile. I took the day off to look after her. We took her to the vet and had x-rays done. The vet could not find anything discernible in the x-rays. We went home with anti-nausea meds for her and an anti-nausea shot, thinking it was over. She had “gurgle gut”, meaning she had gas in her intestines that was making noises and painful for her. She seemed to be getting a little better. By the evening, she was not. She began drooling heavily and heaving. We took her to an urgent night clinic. More x-rays were done, along with blood panels and cat scans. Again, they didn’t show anything conclusive as far as what caused this. Her organs were functioning, her temperature was good, but she was severely dehydrated and hungry (despite our attempts to nourish her). She had diarrhea as well that was bloody. She threw up a TON of fluid at the clinic. Her stomach was full of fluid that the staff pumped out through her nose instead of her throat. She was given pain and anti-nausea meds again. She stayed overnight and we picked her up at 7:30am the next day. Saturday, March 14: We took her back to our vet at 9am. They did more x-rays; both vets available triple checked them; still nothing conclusive. She was given more meds, and we were sent home with more meds: anti-nausea (another one), anti-diarrhea and something for her stomach (for stomach acid?). It took hours after the meds were given that she would eat. We did something we never thought we would do and bought chicken to boil for her. She ate a little bit late at the night, and drank water. She was weak, and slept a lot. She went on walks with diarrhea. We had to clean up her butt, and constantly do many loads of laundry and deep clean our floors, couches, pillows, etc. Sunday, March 15: Continued with the meds. She didn’t eat and drink again till the evening. We got her more stuff: enriched goat’s milk with probiotics, chicken broth, fish broth and simple chicken products from the pet store. They were kind enough to give us advice about getting her hydration up, and even snuck us some products to help. She was brighter and more alert. She loved going on walks like normal. Her tail kind of wagged, and we got the occasional kissy (she is a VERY kissy dog with us). Her diarrhea was a bit under control, and she was able to at least go to the bathroom with continued butt cleanings and washing of laundry/furniture. She smelled horrible, so we gave her a bath as well. She was not fond of it, but like with everything she tolerated it. We had to shove pills down her throat at the time limits (every 12 hours, and 24 hours for one), and she tolerated everything patiently. She ate more that evening than the evening before. Monday, March 16: We gave her more meds in the mornings and small walks every few hours (including the wee hours of the morning). She was still uninterested in food and water for the most part. We thought that it just took a while for the meds to help. Around noon, my husband rushed her to the vet again because she started drooling and heaving once more. I had to rush from my parents’ house to the vet. She also threw up fluid again in my husband’s car on the way there. The vet is now keeping her for a couple of days. What we know right now: Elvira’s guts are inflamed. The vet did not feed her today, for fear that her intestines were too inflamed to deal with the stress. She is on an IV and has had different shots of meds to help her with pain, gas, diarrhea, etc. She had more bloody diarrhea but the vomiting stopped. More x-rays still do not show what she may have eaten to cause this. They cannot consider an endoscope or surgery at this time because she has lost 5 pounds over the weekend (she weights 24 pounds, so this is a MAJOR weight loss). Going under anesthesia would be out of the question at this time. Tomorrow they will start trying to feed her, as well as keep her under heavy observation to get her fluids and strength back up. The hopeful goal will be to get her to a point where they can use an endoscope on her, and see if they can discover what caused this issue. The next steps, as it has been described to us several times, is using graspers or going to surgery to remove whatever it may be that is in her system. How am I doing? I cannot express to anyone how I am feeling. It is too big for words. I am devastated, I am heartbroken, I am in emotional turmoil and agony. I have broken down so many times since this has happened but especially today. My husband, though more stoic, is also suffering similarly. I know many of you understand this pain, and these feelings we have for our fur babies. The people in my life are being incredibly kind, patient and loving to us, and giving us all the support they can. Both our parents are helping us financially. (This post is NOT meant to obtain funds; we are fine.) At this point, as much as it would be nice to know what she could have eaten to get into this state, I do not care anymore. All I want is for her to be happy and healthy. I want the heartache to end. I want my baby to be at home, with us, curled up in her blankets and snoring loudly. I want her to chase her ball, to beg us for potato chips, to sniff every single leaf as she always does on her walks. I want her to pout at us, to make her weird noises at us (grunts and snorts), I want her to SHOWER us in her kissies. I want to hold her, I want to kiss her just as much as she kisses us, I want to cuddle her and tell her everything will be okay. That we are here for her, and we are fighting for her with everything we have. That we will not give up on her and that we love her to the end of time and back. Forever. No matter what. I want this living nightmare to be over. I don’t want the shadows of doubt and depression taking over my mind. I have always been a pessimist, and this is one of the absolute worst possible things that fate and life can throw at me. Please. No matter what it is you may or may not do. Please keep her in your thoughts. Not for me, not for my husband, but for Elvira.

[bubblyani]

Poetic, Piano Lovin’

(Lucifer Morningstar x Reader)

A Lucifer Morningstar One Shot

Rating: Slightly Mature

Author’s Note: Finally got around to watching Lucifer after all this time, and the first few episodes compelled me to write this one shot. I hope I did the show justice. Tom Ellis is such a joy to watch and I can’t wait to watch the rest of the show. Never expected to write anything Lucifer related so this was really spontaneous. Lucifer fandom, Enjoy!

As you sipped on the cocktail you ordered, you could not help but observe the spectacle that inhibited at the LA Night Club that was called LUX. The glamour of the flashing lights, the temptation of the dancing flesh and the music that was simultaneously hypnotic yet chaotic. You’ve certainly entered the Den of Desire. And at that Den, the night was indeed young.

Your friend Harold, was nice enough to take over your night shift at the office, just so you could actually have “a night out” or “loosen up a bit” in his words. And frankly, you wondered if that was all worth it tonight.

Until you finally laid eyes on him. And you wondered that no more.

Tall, dark and very handsome, this man had presence that made itself known the moment he entered the premises. And you were a willing witness. Been quite a while since you were enamored by a stranger at first sight, you felt it evidently when you discovered your involuntary jaw drop, that you managed to cover up by pressing your lips. You wondered how could anyone posses such charm in one body. And the other women, even the other men around surprisingly reacted the same, reminding you that you weren’t the only one. Chuckling softly, you shook your head in embarrassment, lowering your head to hide your silliness.

Except, when you looked back up. And his gaze was locked in yours. Those eyes washing over you from across the room. Just you. No-one else.

Were you dreaming? For it felt unrealistic enough. But just to be sure, you maintained your composure. Getting up slowly, your hands slithered over your purse, walking away from your seat as if to explore the rest of the club, hoping he would follow.   Your eyes suddenly caught the sight of a beautiful piano, that sat right in the middle of the club. And it managed to charm you more than the lights, the dancers and the trance music ever did. Looking over, your eyes stealthily searched for him. You sighed in dejection as you could not find him anymore. “A piano lover I take it?” A warm, velvet voice crept in from the side, startling you as you discovered the handsome stranger standing right next to you. “Hah…what can I say? I see a piano…and I’m instantly drawn to it”  you said, running your manicured hands over it. “I can empathize…” the man said,  “I supposed you could call it…magnetic” Impressed, you fully turned to him. “Lucifer Morningstar” he said, extending his hand over to yours, “Welcome to LUX” “Y/N…” you replied, shaking his hand in return, “…pleasure” you said, feeling your breath quicken as his thumb brushed along your palm to your surprise. “I can’t help but ask…” you began, “Who plays this here?” “I do…” Lucifer replied, as he sat on the piano stool. And admittedly, you were quite impressed, again. “And I can’t help but ask, what brings you here to my playground?” This man knew his way with words, and you liked it. “Well, I’ve always wanted to come to LUX and see what the fuss was all about. Besides, I have to admit I was more than curious about the charismatic owner of it, word spreads like wildfire, you know” You were also surprised how confident your responses were, given the breathtaking view that was presented to you, sharply dressed in a fine suit. “And how do you like what you see so far?” “I’m afraid I can’t disagree…with what I’ve heard” you smiled mischievously, inciting a look of pure satisfaction from the man in front of you.

“Mr. Morningstar…”


“Lucifer…Please” he insisted.

“Yes…” attempting your hardest not to swoon by his seductive tone, you continued, “I cant help but notice all the looks most people are giving me here…” you cleared your throat, “indirectly of course…of why would someone such as yourself seem to be spending his time with me?” “ Well Y/N” Lucifer began, “You certainly seem to have some charm and beauty that I couldn’t take my eyes out of…” “Flattery…” you smirked, “really… the best way to bring in new customers” You remarked teasingly. To which he flashed his smile, “Guilty” His eyes managed to undress you. You felt the effect as a new heat grew between your thighs. And you certainly felt it to a higher degree than usual.

But sudden ring of your phone distracted your otherwise tense moment. You sighed. It was a text from Harold. “Shit…” you muttered. “Everything okay?” Lucifer asked with concern. “Yeah just…” you paused, “My friend from work…he…I…I gotta go” You said, reluctantly putting your phone away, forcing Lucifer to get up from his seat. “No…You can’t just leave like that” he said in protest. You pouted. “Unfortunately I have to…” “Tell me Y/N…” he said, as his voice grew deeper.   “What is it that you truly desire… right now?”

For a moment you felt as if you were the only occupant in the room. For a moment you were liberated from all constraints and you had nothing to lose.

“I really want to help my friend out at work, or I will be feeling guilty for the rest of my life” you said, “But I also want to stare into your beautiful eyes, until you ravish me on top of this piano until my legs turn into…Oh my god…” you covered your mouth in shock, “…did I just say that?”

You swore you saw his eyes burn with desire, or you wanted to believe it to be so. But before Lucifer could answer, you were reminded once again of the urgent dilemma. “I’m really sorry…” you began, “but I gotta go…” Giving him an apologetic look, you quickly dashed out of the club, unaware of how Lucifer Morningstar’s eyes didn’t leave you until you disappeared.

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

Harold looked up from his pile of paperwork, as he found you in the office.

“Y/N!” He exclaimed, “You’re here”

“Yeah…I came as fast as I could” you said breathlessly, trying to recover from your panting, “What’s going on?” You asked, with your hands on your hips. 


“Well the system just crashed…” he began, pointing at your computer, “…and I have no idea how to get it back up online ” Harold said, with a tone of concern,“I’m really sorry I ruined your night…”

“What? Nah…all good. Don’t worry about it. I owe you that much” you said without hesitation, guilty of your surprising confession earlier at the Club.

You sighed, as flopped in front of the desktop, stretching your arms.

“It’s gonna be one long night”

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

Maze was certainly not happy to find a customer at LUX during the wee hours of the morning. Therefore her mood wasn’t exactly forthcoming when she found you at the entrance.

“I’m sorry” you said nervously, holding a cup of coffee, “I forgot my phone here” You managed to come up with a White Lie, and you didn’t know why you did it. Frankly, you didn’t know why you ended up there at all.

“Don’t worry…I will be out before you know it” You yelled apologetically as you walked in to the empty premises, which had the occupants of zero at present. Excluding you of course. Running your fingers over the piano keys, you were reminded of the short yet seductively sweet encounter. You wished that aspect of the night had continued, curious to see how it would have ended.

“Long night ?” Clutching your chest, Lucifer Morningstar certainly seemed to read your mind as he appeared in the midst of your wandering thoughts. Exhaling, you nodded in acknowledgement. “Yep, managed to survive thanks to many many….” Pointing at your cup, “many cups of coffee” you said with a grin, “Feels fulfilling…although it happened with a little sacrifice” You couldn’t help but admire how handsome and irresistible he looked, even at 7 in the morning ,“What are you doing here?” You asked, getting up from the stool, proceeding to walk towards him, “You should be waking up… to someone beautiful after a night of excitement” your tone laced with reverie. “Has anyone told you how poetic you are?” Lucifer asked, taking the finished coffee cup off your hands. Like a gentleman. Chuckling, you attempted to come up with a response. And it seemed that you failed. Especially when you found yourself slowly backed against the piano by him. “I guess I can call myself a poetic, piano lover who…rushes to her friend in need” you managed to form an answer, finally. Placing his hands on the sides of the piano, Lucifer grinned when he surrounded you. 
“Well I think, you need a bit of spice… to fire up that poetic piano lover eh?” “True…” you said, “I’ve been told I need more excitement in my l-”

Lucifer’s lips managed to shush you fast as he kissed you with much fervor, which you didn’t hesitate to return. Suddenly leaving the piano, you felt his beautiful hands resting on your waist, bringing you closer till there was no gap in between. Your legs suddenly felt lighter the moment he lifted you up, and placing you on top of the piano instead.

“No! not here…” you breathed, pulling away “…this is too holy” you joked, indicating the beautiful piano. “Ah darling…” He said, swiftly spreading your legs open for him to get in between them. A gasp escaped your lips, as his long fingers grazed over your panties, skillfully getting around to the waistband so he could pull them down.

“Nothing is holy in the eyes of the devil” 

______________________________________

A/N: Hope you all enjoyed it.

Check my LUCIFER MASTERLIST here :)

[lukn4inspo]

The One Where Sam Winchester Thinks He’s Jessica Rabbit

Summary: A thin layer of witchy plot to hang some humor, romance, and smut on for sherrybaby14’s Fall Into You Challenge. My prompt was “I’m going to gut you like a fish.”

 Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader

 Warnings: NSFW, 18+, Smut happens, informed consent is sexy, biting cuz I like that sh*t, oral and manual sex, bit of knife kink showing through, I probably got weird with verb tenses

 A/N: If anyone wants to send me a good Sam pic or gif for this, that’d be cool.

 Word Count: 4100ish

There’s something calming about sharpening a knife. The wind and the soft rattle of dry leaves outside the hotel providing counterpoint to the sharp song of blade over stone. Since you know you’re safe, in a protected room you’re sharing with two of the best hunters you know, you let your mind drift. There’s magic in these moments of in between, when you’re both focused on what’s in front of you and letting your mind wander at the same time. This is the mindset best for casting spells. It’s both familiar and comforting. So when your temporary roommates open the door you barely look up, acknowledging their presence but staying in the moment.

 Until 6 foot plus of Winchester lands in your lap. “Umm…” True, you were friends and it wasn’t unusual for you to lose track of time and end up talking into the wee hours between helping each other with cases, but you weren’t really this kind of close. As a matter of fact, you didn’t think Sam was this kind of close with anyone. Yet, here he was, thighs across your lap and tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Mm, Y/N, I missed you.” Then he fucking nuzzles your face.

 “Umm…” He’s lazily caressing your collarbone, his cheek resting on the other hand, and gazing at you softly. With a sly little smile, he stretches his arms above his head and arches his back which strains the buttons of his white shirt. Oh so tempting, and he knows it too, judging by the look in his eye.

 “Umm, Sam? What’s going on?”

 “I just missed you. We were wrapping things up at the courthouse and it hit me all of a sudden how much I wanted to see you.” He’s peeping up at you through his lashes. Quite a feat since you’re over a foot shorter than him. “You’ve been working hard, I can tell.” This while he strokes a finger down the blade of your favorite knife. Damn, he has elegant hands. They give you all kinds of dirty thoughts. “Need me to get you anything? Let me get you a drink.”

 Before you can stammer about water he’s out of your lap and sashaying to the refrigerator. You know you’re not imagining the extra sway in his hips. Then the cocky fucker looks over his shoulder at you when he bends over far more than necessary to get a drink from the fridge.

 “Dean, is he drunk or something? What the hell is going on?” Dean was still standing in front of the closed door, apparently just as stunned by his brother’s odd behavior as you.

 “I don’t know but it’s funny as hell.”

 “Sam, you don’t usually act this way. What’s going on?” He sits back across your lap and starts massaging your neck. Your eyes roll back in your head despite the little kissy faces he’s making at you.

 “Don’t ruin this for me, Y/N,” Dean says. “This is prime blackmail material right here.”

“We’re on a case. You know this is probably magic.”

 Dean snorts. “At least it’s fun magic. Hey, he didn’t start acting weird ‘til we got here. Maybe it’s you.”

 “I’ve been in the room all morning working the witch angle. That’s the reason you guys called me in on this one.” Sam murmured in your ear how that was just one of the reasons and something about you being his favorite witch before nibbling at your neck. “Uhh,” you shiver. “He said he wanted to leave the courthouse so he could see me. Maybe someone was trying to throw you guys off the trail.”

 “Oh yeah, right. There was kind of a weird incident before we left.” Dean was openly smirking at your discomfiture. “He got flowers.”

 “Flowers?” Sam seemed content with his effect on you so he kept assaulting your neck while you tried to talk to Dean.

 “Well, technically they were for me. But when a pissed-off biker looking dude shows up with a bouquet of flowers with your name on ‘em, you don’t accept. Looks unprofessional. So naturally, I told him Sam was me.”

 “You bastard,” Sam chimes in. “Those weren’t my flowers?” He grumbles for a minute but is soon distracted by playing with your hair and gazing at your mouth.

 “Uh, no, Casanova.”

 “A bouquet can be a good medium for a love spell. Where is it?”

 “Still at the courthouse. He tried to get me to smell ‘em so I tossed ‘em in the trash and told him to get in the car.”

 “Go grab it and hurry back.”

 “Yeah. It’s getting a little disturbing in here.” Sam had the tip of his finger between his teeth and was gazing at you seductively.

 “And don’t smell them!”

 As soon the door closed behind Dean, Sam said, “Oh, thank God. Now we can be alone.” He takes your hand with the forgotten knife and drags it up his thigh then abdomen then chest. “Y’know these suits get so uncomfortable. Wanna help me with that?”

 He slips your blade through the threads holding the top button to the shirt and gasps in faux surprise as it rolls away. He continues to lead your hand down to loose the next button and the next. It’s a little hypnotic watching the shirt open bit by bit. It takes 3 buttons before you realize you should probably stop him. You tug your hand away and sheathe the blade but he seems not to notice. Just leans close to whisper how sexy that was. How he’d often thought about you cutting off his clothes because it’s so hot how good you are with a knife. Of all the times for your favorite vibrator to be broken. The man of your wet dreams is draped over you, sleeves rolled up over muscular forearms, a long sliver of skin showing down his chest and abs, detailing sex fantasies he’s had of you, and you can’t do a damn thing about it because he seems to be under a spell.

 “Can I kiss you, Y/N?” He bites his lip and gazes up at you through heavy lids. All this time getting to know each other, hoping that the budding romance you’re feeling is on both sides, has left you vulnerable to the way his voice sometimes goes soft and warm when he says your name. So of course your answer is “huh?”

 But he’s not deterred. He leans forward and you struggle back. “Wait! Wait. I think I need to freshen up. You don’t mind to wait here for me, do you Sam?” He languidly crawls off your lap.

 “Whatever you want, baby. I’ll be right here.” He winks as you rush to the bathroom. It’s tempting to stay in there until Dean gets back but you know it would be irresponsible to leave Sam unsupervised under the influence of magic. So you wash your face, take some deep breaths, and come up with a plan to not take advantage of the very attractive and handsy person who cannot consent right now. It’s weird but the silliness of his actions causes you to let your guard down more. Gotta watch that.

 As soon as you open the door, he’s on his feet and getting as close to you as possible. “Woah, Sam. Can we…slow things down? I’m not really comfortable going this fast.” That’s a complete lie. If he were in his right mind and being this forward, you’d both be halfway to orgasms right now.

 He takes a step back and smiles softly. “Of course.” He takes your hand and leads you to the couch where he can tuck you under his arm and fucking cuddle you. You melt. Motherfucker. “Let’s talk about the case, hmm? Tell me what you’ve figured out. I know you were letting your mind wander over it when we came in.”

 “I don’t know. It’s really inconsistent. If it is some kind of magic user they’re not very good. The traces I’ve felt were spotty. If it were an object it would have a specific purpose but that’s not what we’re seeing. And even if it were wild, undirected magic like a place that holds power it would work via influence. What we’ve been seeing is too specific for that.” His big hand sliding up and down your back is really soothing and makes it easier to express yourself.

 “So you’re thinking amateur witch, then?”

 “Yeah, I guess so. Maybe one with a specific strong gift. Didn’t fully realize that until I told you, though.”

 He smiles and lifts your chin. “We do make a good team that way.” When he leans in to kiss you it feels completely natural. It’s warm and lightly teasing, like he’s savoring the feel and taste of your mouth. But when he pulls back and lowers his gaze his face goes still. “Y/N, are you seeing someone?” You know that voice. He’s being very careful not to sound sad. You don’t understand until you look down. Your shirt has slipped down revealing a dark purple bruise on your breast.

 “No. Not at all. I just…needed to be touched by someone who gives a shit about me.” Oddly enough, you feel like you’re about to cry but you swallow it down. It’s hard to find people you can be close with when you’re a witch and you can’t just tell Sam you hoped he would touch you like that. Not right now, at least.

 “Hey, you don’t owe me any explanations. And I know a woman like you has to have plenty of men wanting her attention. I just didn’t want to keep flirting if you were already involved with someone else. You know I’m not that kind of guy.”

 “Yeah, I know that. No, he and I aren’t involved. We’re friends with occasional benefits, emphasis on the friends part.”

 “I don’t see how he could settle for occasional with you.”

 “We just don’t fit romantically.” Sam nods and pulls you into his arms again. God, it would be easy to fall in love with this man when he’s sitting here holding you like you’re important. It’s a good thing he can’t see your face while you work through that. Love is a scary thing. Love with a hunter doubly so. Dean opening the door is a welcome distraction.

 You hop up and take the bouquet from him. It’s all in autumn colors, dark rusty reds and oranges and little accents of black, mostly wildflowers. The spell seems to be on the flowers but not coming from them. The witch didn’t know how to anchor it properly because the magic has already dissipated quite a bit. Still you strengthen your protections before taking a light sniff. Some of the ingredients are recognizable and you can tell it’s well made and expensive.

 You pluck the card. It reads ‘Be brave, shy guy. ---Sparkles’ in flowing cursive. At the very bottom of the card is a business name, Bethany’s Bouquets.

 “Definitely a potion but it’s a waste the way they used it. Whoever it is doesn’t know what they’re doing. Let’s go check out this florist and,” you check the card again, just to be sure, “Sparkles.”

 “Smart women are so hot,” Sam murmurs as he puts a hand on your waist. You can’t help but blush a bit at that one.

 “Let me take the lead, yeah?”

 “Hey, you’re the witch expert.” When you pile into the car Sam sits in the back with you and puts his arm around you again. He’s pretty well behaved, much more toned down since you asked him to go slower, but he stills untucks his shirt and opens it all the way with the excuse that he’s way too hot. Highly unlikely on a crisp October day, but whatever. You grin and shake your head. This’ll be over soon anyway.

 Dean follows you into the shop but Sam stays by the car since he’s ‘under the influence.’

 “Welcome to Bethany’s Bouquets!” greets a cheery voice from behind a counter. “Can I help you?”

 “Absolutely. You can tell me what makes your bouquets so special.” You put a hint of Power in your voice and watch her reaction closely but she shows no sign of understanding and no spark of Power in response, just puzzlement at your question.

 “Wellllll, as you can see we carry a wide array of flowers. Vibrant tropicals, soft English roses,” she indicates different sections of the store. “And seasonal arrangements.”

 “Yes, those. My friend received a seasonal bouquet from your shop today. Whatever substance was on it made him sick.”

 “What?! Oh, my goodness! Is he okay? We just mist the flowers with plain water before we send them out. Here. See? Nothing anyone should be allergic to.” She hands you a mister bottle from under the counter. You sniff it but you already know she’s not the one. You brushed her hand as you took the bottle and there was not a trace of magic on her.

 “Who else would have handled them?” asks Dean. He’s still in his suit and has his serious professional face on. He even pulls out the badge. “Cuz I’m not a big fan of people trying to drug my partner.” He waves toward the car where Sam is leaning back with his shirt open and face tipped to the sun, looking like a damn model.

 “Drugs?!” she screeches. “I don’t ---- but --- that doesn’t make any sense.”

 “Who’s Sparkles?” you ask firmly, taking advantage of her flustered state.

 “They didn’t do anything,” comes a voice from deeper in the store. Your hand goes to your knife and Dean’s to his gun. The guy steps around the corner. Sheepish is a funny expression on a weathered, bearded guy in a leather vest. “It’s okay, baby,” he puts his arm around Bethany’s shoulders and squeezes. “Bethany and Sparkles had nothing to do with it.” Bethany is shell-shocked but firms her jaw up quickly at that.

 “What did you do, Herbert?”

 Herbert? is surprisingly forthcoming. He got the potion secondhand. A friend of his saw how unhappy he was and passed on a potion she’d bought from a bruja, saying it changed her life. It was to help her go after what she wanted. Thing is, it was made specifically for her. So when Herbert used it on himself to court Bethany, she was surprised by how sensitive and ‘in touch with women’ he was. For them, it worked. But when he decided to share his good fortune with others by spraying it on the flowers, he wasn’t too careful about the instructions.

 Too big a dose inhaled from flowers made the magic hit hard and fast. So Tony, who liked to complain about not getting the promotion he worked so hard for (he didn’t actually work that hard or want it that bad) chased an ice cream truck into traffic because that’s what he really wanted at the time. Carla truly did want a family of her own…so she tried to buy her friend’s child, and when they wouldn’t sell, she tried to kidnap the baby instead. Mr. Burroughs, the English teacher who quit his job of 21 years in such a dramatic fashion that he was committed for a nervous breakdown, just wanted to feel appreciated. Mrs. Bailey, who they didn’t know about, was being divorced by her husband of 50 years because she wanted to spice up their love life. He caught her in their garage with a prostitute, in a very compromising and surprising position. You can only hope to be so flexible at that age. There were a few harmless cases mixed in, as well. Herbert’s generosity with his new power is what drew your attention initially. So many people in such a little town acting strange. Something was up. Sparkles’ order was the last ‘special’ one. He’d met ‘some guy who looked like a Ken doll’ that he was absolutely certain wanted him but was too shy to take a chance. Herbert strongly suggested he send flowers to the object of his affection.

 When he’s done telling his story, you hand him a little glass vial and demand some of his spit and hair. He sputters but you insist and Bethany hadn’t stopped glaring at him so he caves. You hold his gaze as you take the bottle and yank it back, using magic to pull his body forward to where your favorite knife waits in your other hand. You hold him immobile as you make a shallow slice in his neck and drip the blood off your blade into the bottle.

 “What are you going to do to make it right?” you ask softly.

 “I don’t know how.”

 “Seems the most believable option is to confess to drugging those people. That way they can get their lives back. And you’ll be responsible for Tony’s medical bills.”

 He lets out a big breath. “I can do that.”

 “Good. And Herbert? If you ever make me come back here, I’m going to gut you like a fish.” You clean your bloodied blade on his shirt and walk away, not releasing him until you are all in the car and on the road.

 Dean lets you and Sam have the room to yourselves so you can remove the spell on him and nullify the potion in the bottle without distractions. Sam makes sure to mention how proud he is that you figured it out and took care of the culprit.

 “Heart melting bastard,” you grouse. He frowns but sits still and quiet while you do your work. When you finally finish with the bottle you sigh and flop onto your back. It’s clear that Sam was released from the effects by the way he hops up to change his shirt and keeps clearing his throat.

 “Dean is never gonna let me live this down,” he sighs.

 “You could always threaten to give his number to Sparkles,” you say with a gleam in your eye. That definitely catches his attention. And when you tell him Sparkles said Dean looked like a Ken doll, he full on laughs. You fill him in on the rest of what happened so by the time you’re done he isn’t too embarrassed to look you in the eye anymore.

 “So, I feel like an idiot,” he says.

 “Yeah, me too.”

 “Why? I was the one acting foolish.”

 “I was the one drooling, though.”

 “I thought I was going too fast and you weren’t comfortable with that.”

 “Pfft, I just said that cuz I wasn’t about to take advantage of someone under the influence.” He stares at you for a moment before nodding.

 “Good to know. Will you come out with me tonight, then?”

 “Of course. Where to?” He beams.

 “You’ll see. Wear something cute and comfy.” Sam waves his brother into the room.

 “How you feeling there, Jessica Rabbit?”

 “Why don’t you ask Sparkles how he’s feeling, shy guy?”

 “…shuddup.”

 “I’ve got some things to do right now but find your own dinner tonight. Y/N and I have plans.” Dean catcalls him out the door then wiggles his eyebrows at you.

 A while later you’re on a soft, thick blanket having a picnic in a clearing surrounded by maples in all their fall glory. Any worries you’d had that things would be awkward have vanished. It’s like the amateur biker witch never happened and this date thing just occurred naturally. Afterward Sam drives you to another spot where there’s water tripping down a little stream so you can show him a bit of water magic you’ve been practicing.

 “That’s amazing!” he exclaims as the reflections on the surface interact with your touch as if they are the objects themselves. By the time it gets dark you find yourself leaning back against Sam who’s sitting on the hood of the car with his legs splayed around you. It’s just like those late night phone conversations you’ve had except you’re absently scratching patterns on his thighs while you talk and laugh. His chin is resting on your shoulder, one hand at your waist, and the other stroking back and forth above your knee.

 Eventually, you’re just sitting quietly together, enjoying the peace and the closeness. Your breath stops when you feel a warm press of lips against your vulnerable neck. Then there’s another higher up. And another. Your breath leaves with a little sigh. You turn your head and watch his lips drift toward yours and sink into you. Light, sweet flavor of peaches on your tongue from earlier. The small noises you make seem to urge him on and he intensifies the connection, squeezing higher up your thigh under your skirt seeking deeper in your mouth with his tongue. Then he leaves your mouth for your neck again, kissing that tender spot in front of your ear on the way. One hand is now under your shirt stroking your belly and the other is slowly working up to the crease of your thigh.

 “Tease,” you breathe.

 “Oh? Is there something you need?” You roll your hips back against him and he groans quietly.

 “Nah. You?”

 “Mmmmm,” he replies but his fingers have reached the seam of your panties and now he’s pushing under them, pressing his fingertips through your warm, wet lips. You drop your head back onto his shoulder and just enjoy the feeling of him around you. Firm heat behind you, hand squeezing your breast and flirting with the top of your bra, the slow push so his fingers are all the way inside your pussy and the heel of his hand presses into your clit. You moan and buck forward but he pulls you back hard to his chest grinds his hard dick into your soft ass. Then he grips your right leg and pulls it across his, leaving you standing on one foot with your legs spread. “Yeah, baby. Open up for me.”

 When he pushes his fingers back in he gets deeper. His hand has gotten slippery from alternately finger fucking you and grinding over your clit. It’s so deep you can’t help but squirm but he keeps holding you to him with his left arm across your chest, hand resting over your heart. He’s murmuring quietly but you can’t tell what he’s saying. The fact that he doesn’t seem to realize he’s doing it is ridiculously hot.

 “Fuck, Sam! Bite me!” He does so without hesitation and you come hard. Before you can gather your wits he flips you onto your back on the hood of the car and cuts clean through the crotch of your panties with a knife he produced from who knows where. He buries his face between your legs like he’s been holding it back this whole time and you come again all over his mouth.

 He’s panting when he lifts you up for a kiss. “Need to get you in a bed. Need you to touch me.” You’re past words at this point so you just slide a hand down his pants into his boxers and wrap your fingers around his warm, hard cock. “Ah!” He jerks as you lightly drag them up, around the head, down, over his balls. He can’t seem to get his pants down fast enough but when he sees your hand on him for the first time he groans and presses a hard, desperate kiss into your mouth. He rests his forehead against yours and watches, hissing and sighing at the way you touch him. Before long his noises are getting louder and deeper and he wraps his hand around yours. He jacks the tip of his cock hard and fast with your hand and comes with your name in his mouth. It makes your whole body shiver.

 Once he’s calmed down enough he produces the knife again and cuts your panties off so he can use them to clean your hands. Then you’re wrapped up in his arms and held close, like you’re someone to be treasured. It makes you feel a little stunned and a little heartsore, but in a good way.

 “This is it. This is what I wanted. Just like this.”

 “What?”

 “Just to be close to you. No barriers, no case in the way. Just me and you. I want it all the time, actually.” You bury your face in his neck where his collar and his hair hold his scent the strongest. It feels safe here.

 “Sam,” you breathe against his skin. And he understands it for the yes that it is.

@sherrybaby14

[niall-is-my-dream]

Lost Without You - Part Ten

So this is the last part! Thanks to everyone who has read, liked and reblogged this. I appreciate it!

2460 words

But thanks to @beardedniall​​ for helping me.

Catch up below

https://niall-is-my-dream.tumblr.com/post/186235732118/lost-without-you-masterlist

6 weeks later

Walking into your flat a week before Christmas felt strange. You dragged your two suitcases one by one up the stairs, and dumped them in the hallway. Removing your coat you realised how warm the flat felt, making your way to the kitchen you saw a note above the thermostat.

 "Put the heat and the hot water on for you, hope it was ok that I used the spare key. Put some bits in the fridge and cupboards for you too. Pop in for a coffee and a catch up when you're free. Audrey. X"

Oh love her. Audrey was too good to you. You felt an overwhelming urge to see Audrey and embrace her and her familiar smell. Remembering how it gave you a feeling of home. 

You weren't going back to your parents for another week so you had planned on last minute Christmas shopping and spending some time with Audrey, Jess and Hannah. There would be plenty of time to see your parents, your brother his wife and your nieces. Niall wouldn't be back until the 23rd which was still five days away.

When you opened the fridge you found butter, cheese, milk and some ready meals. The cupboard had bread, crumpets, some crisps and some snacks. You also found your fruit bowl full. You couldn't believe the trouble she had gone through for you. It also meant you could have a shower straight away rather than waiting for the water to heat up. Which is exactly what you needed.

Opening one of your suitcases you found some pjs and your toiletries. Stripping off your clothes you stepped in the hot shower washing away your day of packing and travelling. You dressed in your pjs and one of Niall's hoodies before heading to the kitchen and popping a meal in the microwave. 

With the meal on your lap and the tv talking to no one, you browsed through your social media whilst you ate. A FaceTime call from Niall interrupted your meal, and you smiled. Swiping to answer it, you saw his face come onto the screen.

"Hey beautiful." He said smiling. He was sitting on a navy blue sofa with a plain white wall behind him. You knew he was in Chicago for one of the Jingle Ball shows, so you assumed he was in a hotel room or dressing room.

 "Hey yourself." You replied, smiling at his cute christmassy jumper.

 "How was your trip back?" He asked.

 "It was ok, quick and easy flight. Not long been home, I've just showered and got ready for bed."

 "Glad to be home love?"

 "Yeah I am, feels weird actually!"

 "Nice hoodie by the way. Been looking for that for weeks!" He replied with a smirk.

 "I may have nicked it from you when you visited me." You grinned back. "It still smells like you a bit."

 "Won't be long now petal, five more days. I'll do the last show in Miami and then I'll fly home straight away after. So I'll see you on Monday 23rd sometime. Not sure what time my flight lands yet."

 "Ok the plan is still for me to go to my parents on Christmas Eve sometime, I can pick my hire car up anytime from 12. Is your flight to Ireland still around that time?"

 "Yeah, 1:40 something I think. I don't know I'm rubbish."

 "It's why you have Tara!"

 "True." He laughed in reply. 

 You heard a knock and a click of a door and saw Niall look up and across the room. The room he was in suddenly became noisy and a familiar voice could be heard amongst the crowd.

"You still talking to your lovely wee lass?!" You heard Lewis ask.

"I am." Niall replied with a smirk.

Lewis popped himself down on the sofa and his face crept into view. You felt yourself blush and prayed you wouldn't fan girl over him again. It had been bad enough when you'd done it six months ago on your first date with Niall.

"There she is!" Lewis said. "This Irish heartthrob has been talking about you all day, said he needed to come talk to you make sure you got home ok."

 "Did he now?!" You laughed.

 "Yep! Been going on and on about you!"

 "Hey give it a rest!" Niall said and you could see him blushing.

 "Oh look, he's blushing now. Been saying how much he loves you and how he can't wait to come home to you so he can make sweet love to you all Christmas!"

"Mate! What the fuck?!" Niall shaking his head. "He's drunk. Just ignore him!"

"Don't deny it now Niall, no need to get embarrassed! And I'm not drunk!" Lewis grinned.

"Fuck off!" Niall smiled back.

"How was your trip back anyway Emma?" Lewis asked.

"It was ok thankyou."

"Good, alright I'll let you love birds have your phone sex and I'll catch you in what three minutes?! You won't last longer than that!"

You giggled as you saw Niall's face turn red.

"Right you, out now!" Niall replied and you saw him point towards what you presumed to be the door.

 "Bye Emma!"

 "Bye Lewis!" You replied still giggling.

You heard the door close and Niall resume his original position in front of you.

 "Sorry about him." He said, his face still red.

"Have you got time for phone sex?" You asked him.

His eyes widened in shock and you could see him trying to decide how to answer the question. It was something that you had explored a few times whilst you had been apart. But it has always been when you were just going to sleep and Niall was in a hotel room. He was in a dressing room waiting to perform that evening, anyone could walk in.

"I have to go for sound check in like ten minutes. But fuck I would if I could." He managed to mumble out.

"Ah that's a shame." You smirked. "Could still show you the good stuff if you like?"

"Yeah?" He stuttered.

"Mmmm." You replied as you pulled his hoodie over your head, revealing just a plain light pink vest top underneath. 

You heard him breath out a huge sigh at the sight of your breasts, just visible beneath your thin top.

"More?" You asked him, as you saw him reach down and adjust himself beneath his jeans.

"Yes." He croaked out before clearing his throat and repeating himself.

Pulling the top over your head you heard him moan out and mumble something about how you were driving him crazy. When you reached across and tweaked your nipple, he moaned again and rubbed his free hand across his face, down his chest and to his jeans. His hand palmed himself over his bulge and he blew out a sigh of relief.

A knock on the door on his end brought him back to reality and he leaned forward, his elbows on his knees to try and disguise his erection. No one entered the room however but someone did call out a ten minute call for his sound check.

"Yeah be there in five." He called out.  

You saw him shake his head.

"I have to go." He sighed. "But I need to go and sort out this first."

And he turned the camera down to show you his big problem.

"Go to the bathroom and let me watch." You asked him.

"Yeah? You'd like that?" He replied, his eyebrows raised.

"Mmmmm." You simply answered with as you stroked your nipples again. He groaned, but quickly stood up and made his way to the ensuite bathroom, locking the door behind him. 

With his phone propped up by the sink, he quickly opened his button and unzipped his jeans. The sight of his thick cock as he pulled himself from his jeans made your core throb.

"Oh baby look how worked up you are." You whispered as you slipped your hand beneath your shorts.

"All for you, see what you do to me?" He replied panting, as he ran his thumb over his bright red tip moving the precum down his length.

"I barely did anything."

"I've not made love to you in six weeks babe, I'm going to cum in like two minutes I'm so worked up by the sight of your tits."

 "Yeah, two minutes? Is that a challenge?"

"Definitely, and you better be touching yourself to." He whispered back.

"I am." You replied and you saw him bite his lip to hold back a moan.

Neither of you spoke again in case someone happened to enter Nialls dressing room. There were low breaths and pants from you both as you desperately seeked your release. Your fingers were running over your clit, while you teased your nipples with the other hand. Keeping eye contact with Niall was hard, your eyes were practically rolling in the back of your head as you got closer. The tightness in your stomach built more and more as you watched him stroke his hard cock with his left hand and tug on his balls with his right.

His movements became sloppy and you knew he was close, the thought of it pushed you to your orgasm and you mewled as you came, your body almost convulsing at the strength of your release.

Low pants of your name from Niall's lips told you he was coming to, and you saw him release his grip on his balls to try and catch the heavy stream of his orgasm.

"Jesus christ." He mumbled as he surveyed the mess in his hands.

"That was about two minutes. Challenge won." You said with a smirk.

********

The Cosy Coffee Corner was quiet today, the early Monday morning rush of commuters and dog walkers had been and gone. Mr and Mrs Davidson had sat at their usual spot by the window reading the newspaper like they always did at least 3 or 4 mornings a week. You'd come down early to offer help to Audrey with the customers, having been awake since dawn. You hadn't been able to get back to sleep after waking up at 5am, your mind filled with thoughts of Niall and his arrival back from Miami today.

You weren't sure how long the flight was or what time you would see him today. It all depended on how he slept on the flight and if he was jetlagged. The sheer desperation to see him was ridiculous.

Your internship at the London office of Foundation Interior Designs didn't start until the new year, and you weren't due to go to your parents until tomorrow. Feeling at a bit of a loss you'd served the familiar customers alongside Audrey and sipped your morning coffee. No one made coffee like Audrey.

It felt great to be back in the safety and comfort of The Cosy Coffee Corner though and Audrey had been excited to see you. When you'd left, it had been the end of the summer, but now the cafe was covered in Christmas decorations. The handmade garland was hanging across the counter by the till. A large Christmas tree took over the corner by the window. The whole place smelled of the usual freshly made pastries and coffee but now with a hint of Winter smells of cinnamon, nutmeg and gingerbread.

 "What time is he due back?" Audrey asked you as she cleared the table next to the counter.

"Not sure. Do you mind if I hang around here for a bit longer?"

 "Of course not love."

The bell above the door jingled and you looked up to see a woman carrying a familiar looking bouquet of flowers.

"Hi, I have a delivery for Emma Pearce." She said.

"That's me, thanks." You replied taking the bouquet. Right on time you thought. Niall had never missed your weekly delivery of flowers since you'd been apart.

Taking the small card in your hand, your saw a printed message.

"To my beautiful girl, can't wait to see you today. Love you. N xxx"

"Wish I could find someone to send me flowers ever week." Audrey said as she came to stand beside you. "These are beautiful."

"I can set you up on one of those dating sites if you like?!"

"Oh god no child, can you imagine the weirdos I'd meet?!"

"Not everyone on them is a weirdo!" You replied sniggering.

"Of course not, but I'm bound to be matched with one. Would be just my luck." She said.

"Didn't know you were looking at dating again Audrey?"

It had been quite a few years since Audrey had lost her husband and you hadn't realised she was thinking about meeting new people.

"Well I'm not really, but it would be nice to go out for dinner and have some male company sometimes. And not like that before you raise your eyebrows at me girl!" She laughed.

"I never said anything!"

 "Go grab a book and take a seat, I'll bring you over some lunch." She said, slowly shifting you out from behind the counter.

"You don't need to do that."

"Yes I do, I haven't been able to mother you for months!" She replied smiling. 

"I've missed that actually." You replIed smiling back.

Placing your flowers on one of the tables by the Christmas tree in the window, you browsed the books selecting one that's cover looked intriguing. Sitting down you started to read, Audrey soon brought you over a sandwich, a gingerbread man and another coffee.

You soon got lost in the book, you'd been reading quite a bit while you'd been away in Paris. It had helped the evenings go quickly when you were on your own. The cafe started to pick up with the lunch time rush, people popping in for sandwiches and coffees from local businesses near by, the bell above the door jingling every so often.

You didn't notice when someone stood in front of you but your head soon looked up when that someone cleared their throat.

Your mouth opened in shock at the sight of Niall standing in front of you. He had on a thick black coat and a grey paddy cap, all wrapped up and cosy from the December weather.

"Is this seat taken?" He asked gesturing towards the seat opposite you.

"Definitely not." You managed to reply, still shocked at seeing him front of you.

You hadn't expected to see him in here, thinking he would probably text you and say he was coming over to your flat or something. He moved closer to you, leaning down so you were face to face, just inches from each other.

"Good." He said as he leaned in and kissed you.

Tag list

@awomanindeniall​

@horanscran​

@flnialler​

@winchesterwife27​

@ihearthemcallingforyou​

@niallismymuse​

@someoneunimportantxx​​

[supersoldiersruined-me]

I Could Never

A/N: This is so late, my brain hasn’t been my best friend lately. But, surprisingly, as I’d mentioned, school seems to have kickstarted my creativity. So here I am with a belated birthday gift for my space girlfriend @stanclub! I’ve already told you and keep saying it but I’m so happy to have you in my life! (at least I’m posting this while we’re still in Leo season! lol) 💕 Warning: um...cursing? no smut in that one. bit of angst. rpf Word count: 1.9k

Main Masterlist  | Drabbles Masterlist 

You had come home once to a fully decorated house, speechless before the immensity of work that was put into it. You hadn’t been able to spend Christmas at home, and Chris wanted to make sure you’d get a taste of it. After swearing that the band-aids on his fingers didn’t cover his struggle with the Christmas tree needles, you had settled down with hot cocoa in front of the fire and played board games until the wee hours of the morning.

On your birthday the year prior, a twelve person table was filled with family and friends who sat around a hearty brunch; his mom - who had grown to love you like her own daughter - joked about the pots of failed hollandaise sauce her son had expertly burned. His final result was amazing though. 

Needless to say that Chris had settled a high level of expectation for surprises; that you soon found out was taken for granted. Flowers, amongst other things, were usually delivered to your house on special occasions, no exception. But only fresh-cut grass is being blown onto the rain stained pavement as you stare at an empty porch, and the sudden chill has you rushing back inside after one last quick glance around.

With your head well rested on the cold ceramic of your stand-alone shower, you let the warm water travel down your body, flushing away the sting of disappointment. Disappointment that, you’ve convinced yourself, holds a lot more meaning than simply being left giftless on your birthday. Salty tears are washed away; gut shivers have seized their attack on your poor nerves. Once the handle of the shower deprives you of warmer water, you settle to give him the rest of the day, while absentmindedly patting yourself dry and heading out to the patio for some fresh air.

The faint buzz of your phone on the wooden chair startles you out of a daydream.

“Hello?”

“Hey, kid! How’s it going?” A familiar voice echoes through the speaker with a spark of joy.

“Seen better. How about you, Mackie?” You know he can tell exactly how bad you feel, but he’s learned not to bother people with too many questions. Mostly you.

“T’sall good,” he adds, still bashful. “Hey, do you think you can do me a solid?”

A small sigh escapes your lips. It’s faint enough so he doesn’t feel guilty for asking, but quite effective to relieve a bit of tension in your heart.

“Sure. Seems like I have the day to myself anyway...” You know he can deal with your sarcasm - being a fluent speaker himself.

An hour later and a bottle of milk down, you’re sitting on the couch with his youngest in arm, watching that one scene in Moana on repeat. The floor has become the most hazardous place to walk, but the smell of fresh cookies, and the sweet snoring of the toddler seem to have cheered you up after the frustrating morning. The location of his house on a hill makes for the most beautiful sunset view. The rays bounce on the pool outside and heat up the room wonderfully. Soon the moon would take its place and begin another day, and the thought of having spent it alone brings back a small headache.

You’re setting the baby in his bed when a knock at the door startles you. You tiptoe through the dark house out of habit, which comes in handy for the situation. Not bothered to look out the small window by the door, you spring it open in one swift movement, and your knees practically give in when your eyes meet his baby blues. Before you can put a word in, a series of giggles comes from somewhere on his left; not only indicating that he has company, but that this company is female and apparently trying too hard to impress him. He’s wearing a black shirt, neatly tucked into some clean jeans; just the way you had recently suggested he tried. Hair slicked back and glimmer in his eyes. Dreamy, as usual. Clearly he wasn’t here to help babysit Mackie’s kids.

Another minute goes on before their laughter dims down and Chris seems to acknowledge your existence. 

“Um, listen,” he begins through choked laughs. “I’m gonna need you to put this on.”

You look down at the black strip of fabric in his hand.

“Why should I?” The young girl hisses at your answer and bro-punches him on the arm.

“You said she was feisty. But man, she got you there.” You assume that your eyes dart through her soul because her sparkly smile immediately disappears. She glances quickly at Chris, and waves her hands in front of her before proceeding. “Oh, god. Look, I’m...” Her eyes shut close as she realises what you might have been insinuating. “Jesus, I’m sorry. I’m just here to take your place. I’m Anthony’s usual babysitter. Chris called me because he wants to ta-”

Her story is punctuated with Chris’ hand on her mouth. His brows rise up as a warning, and the poor girl snakes around you and into the house, taking the hint.

“I don’t know what you want, Chris but I’ve had a long day and I just-”

“Hold on, hold on!” His hand circles your wrist when you try to walk past him. “Y/N, okay look. I don’t want to break the surprise but please, put the blindfolds on and come with me.”

A small laugh comes out in a sigh, and your head shamefully drops down. So there is a surprise.

His finger carefully tips your chin up so he can look at you again.

“You thought I had forgotten?” His accusation is nothing but a friendly remark. Shivers run up your spine at the grin he offers next. “I could never,” he whispers a bit too close to your cheek. The last cloud dissipates and the stars begin to shine brighter. All of a sudden the air is a lot easier to breathe, although your heart seems to run faster.

His hands stretch the fabric in front of you, and you comply to the invitation. With your back towards him so he can secure it properly over your eyes, careful not to tangle your hair into it, you feel like a little kid waiting to unwrap their presents - albeit you’re the one being wrapped up. You curse yourself for doubting him. The ‘I could never’ replays in your mind, oddly pulling new sensations out of you - added to the fact that his breath tickles your neck with his proximity.

The ride is quite short and only makes his intentions much more mysterious. The only option to be ticked off the hypothetical list is him taking you out downtown, which would have taken twice the time. And you’re relieved to have a more casual night, considering the not-so-glamorous sundress covering your body. One thing Chris hadn’t thought of was to keep you from hearing your surroundings. As you stepped out of the car, the splashing of water gave up the first clue. 

“Chris, if you want to throw me down the river this wasn’t-”

“Oh, just shhh.” 

You walk down a small path, small branches snap under your feet, a faint cackling waits in the distance. The humming of the city seems to fade with each stomp, allowing you to relax for the first time today. Once you’re a few more minutes away, the grip on your shoulders tightens, bringing you to a stop. You hear him take a deep breath.

“Alright,” he adds in a soft tone. He steps behind you, and after a little warning takes the blindfold off.

It takes a few blinks before your mind catches onto the scene before you. 

An off-white drape dangles from a few trees, looping around poles and creating an inviting tent - the ones so popular in fancy home renovation magazines. A picnic cloth sits underneath it, and everything is beautifully lit with a generous amount of fairy lights, tiki lamps and a slow burning campfire along the water line. The sight is mesmerizing, something out of a children’s book, and it has you wanting to shout “I do believe in fairies!” 

The moonlight dances on the lake and glistens back into your watery eyes. With your hands over your mouth you turn around to him. His bottom lip is tucked between his teeth and his look is to die for. He’s soft and proud and his eyes are full of something new. Something you can’t quite figure out yet.

“This is just…” Your eyes dart back to the secluded area. Something he bothered his siblings with, you’re sure of, until they agreed to lend a hand after their mom insisted Chris’ intentions were founded. But you know he came up with the idea himself. Had it not been for his money, you think, this would’ve been a home-made fort in his living room, and you wouldn’t have complained - although the extra attention does make you feel warm and loved.

Loved. There’s the feeling.

In a rush, you tiptoe towards him, anchoring your arms around his neck and in a heap of passion, your lips come to his. Surprise suddenly takes him victim, until he responds and starts moving his lips, then tongue, against yours. You part with a huff, looking for your breath - which seems to be the theme for the night. His mouth rests on your forehead as he keeps your bodies connected. Hands roam the other in search for meaning. Answers. It’s with drips on your cheeks and a childish giggle that you dip your head back.

“Was about time,” he teases. You puffs in fake annoyance before stealing a couple more pecks. 

“I didn’t see you make the first move...”

“I threw you all sorts of hints! Why did it have to be me?” You laugh at his remark.

“Alright, touché. But still. Thought you were old-school about this kind of stuff,” you clarify.

“I’m old-school as in I like to make sure that she’s the one, you know. All those years I planned things and bought some random stuff and you never asked for more. I could shit in a cup and you’d be hap-”

“Christopher! Fucking mood killer!” You pat him on the chest with your comical accusation, earning a deep laugh - minus the boob grab because he wasn’t about to take his hands from you.

“You get what I mean. You never made a big deal out of this,” he adds as he waves behind you. “You never made a big deal out of me. You let me buy things without always making me feel guilty for having this luxury. And then when I want to watch football with beer, wings and ribs stuck in my teeth you join in with a huge smile of excitement. I love the contrast...”

He closes his eyes for a second, trailing the last words in a shy whisper. Your hand comes to his cheek and your heart melts when he leans into it, water now overflowing under his long lashes.

“And I think I love you,” you say. His sparkly baby blues shot open, volleying between yours and analysing your expression. Looking for a hint of doubt, maybe. But then again, wasn’t this what he had always hoped for?

“I think I fucking love you too,” he answers. He kisses you, as if to seal a deal. 

Best birthday ever.

[nothingeverlost]

Fic: Henry Gold (5/?)

Summary: Regina asked for Gold’s help in procuring a child, but when he held the wee boy in his arms he couldn’t give the child up.  Ten years later it’s Henry Gold who arrives in Boston, looking for Emma.

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

A/N: Very Henry-lite, but . Emma meets Mary Margaret, a pregnant girl, and applies first aid.  More show dialog than past chapters.

II

"You had us all worried, Henry."  At Henry's request Emma walked him to school the next morning.  They were greeted in the playground by a woman with short hair who looked strangely familiar, though Emma knew that they'd never met.  "I'm glad you're safe."

"Thanks Miss Blanchard.  I have to go talk to Paige.  Bye Emma, thanks for walking me."  Henry was off before Emma had a chance to respond.  Ever since the call had come from Franklin's that it would be at least a week before her car could be repaired, thanks to a part that needed to be ordered, Henry had been much more relaxed. 

"So you're Henry's teacher."  Who happened to be the woman that Henry thought was her mother.  The mother who was, from the looks of her, the same age as Emma herself.  "I'm Emma.  I'm, uh…"

"His biological mother.  You're also the one that got him and Archie out of the mine."  Miss Blanchard shrugged.  "It's a small town, and there's not a lot to talk about.  News travels fast.  Also he apparently used my credit card to find you, or at least I assume that’s why a site called www.whoseyourmama showed up on my bill."

“I don’t have much experience with small towns.”  She wasn’t used to people knowing much about her, either. She was more used to stolen credit cards, but hadn’t realized that Henry had inherited that talent.  Was stealing hereditary?  If so he came by it honestly.

“Sometimes if can be really wonderful, having so many people know you.  Sometimes it can feel lonely, when it feels like nothing ever changes.”  She shrugged.  “I’m afraid I have to take some of the blame for yesterday, and for you being here.”

“Because of the credit card?”  Emma wondered if Henry would have still run for the mines if she had never been in the town.  If he had would he have found a way out?

“Because of the book.”  Mary Margaret looked to the corner of the playground where Henry was sitting and talking to a little blond girl.  It was the first time Emma had seen him with a kid his own age.

“You’re the one that gave it to him?”  That was weird.  Or maybe it made sense. She gave him the book so maybe seeing her as one of the characters was logical, for a ten year old.  And if his teacher was a character in the book then he’d just started naming other people too. “Why?”

“Henry is a very special boy, so smart and creative.  But he’s also very lonely.  Perhaps because of who his father is, or because he’s so clever he’s never been very good at making friends.  I thought the book could help.”

“How does a book make him less lonely?”  For a moment she was back on the bed in one of her group homes, walkman playing music through her headphones and a book in front of her.  She knew what lonely felt like, but her books and music had been a shield, not a solution.

“What do you think stories are for? These stories are classics. There’s a reason we all know them. They’re a way for us to deal with our world. A world that doesn’t always make sense to adults, let alone ten year old boys.”  Mary Margaret sighed.  “What’s the first fairytale you remember someone reading to you?”

“I didn’t get a lot of storytime.”  There had been a family once, that had almost kept her, but then they’d had a child of their own.  She’d tried to forget most of that home; it made the rest of them harder.  “I remember sneaking into a theatre to see Hunchback of Notre Dame once.” 

Mary Margaret bit her lip, looking a little like she wanted to cry.  People raised in happy homes with parents usually assumed that everyone else had the same.  “I gave the book to him because I wanted Henry to have the most important thing anyone can have. Hope. Believing in even the possibility of a happy ending is a very powerful thing.”

Emma was grateful when the bell rang and kids started running for the building.  She didn’t want to know what Mary Margaret’s next question might be.  

“It was nice meeting you, Emma.”  Mary Margaret offered her hand, but before Emma could shake a bird landed on her finger.

“Yeah.”  Maybe Henry’s stories were getting to her too, because for just a second she could understand how Henry could look at his teacher and see Snow White.  “I’ll see you around.”

II

“Are you okay?”  All she’d wanted was a cup of coffee, but she’d barely managed a sip before spilling it on her shirt.  The diner’s owner had directed her to the laundry room of the bed and breakfast next door to clean up.  Now she was faced with a very pregnant and very unhappy pregnant teen that reminded her way too much of herself.  Well, except for the lack of a prison jumper.  

“Last night, I felt contractions and the doctor said that the baby could come any day now.”  She rubbed her belly, one hand resting on it even when she poured bleach into the washing machine.  Apparently the sheets weren’t supposed to be pink.  Emma remembered waking to find her hand on her belly, feeling the movement inside and forcing herself to move her hand, wrapping it around the metal frame of her cell bed.

“Ah.”  What could she say?  Labor was scary and painful, but being that pregnant wasn’t comfortable.

“It’s just that, um, when the… When the baby comes, no one thinks that I can do this. No one thinks I can do anything.”  She looked down at her belly.  “Maybe they’re right.”

“Forget what they think, what do you think?”  She didn’t let herself think about what it what it would have been like to keep her kid.  It hadn’t been possible and it wouldn’t have been Henry’s best life.  She’d made her only possible choice, but that was her.  “What do you want for you and what do you want for this kid?”

“I’m nineteen.”

“A year older than I was.”  And from the looks of her not living on the street at least.

“When you had a kid?”  The girl frowned, as if it had never occurred to her that someone else might have been in the same boat. 

“Yeah. Everyone loves to tell you what you can and can’t do, especially with a kid. For me the right choice was adoption but I was the only person that could make that choice.  You’re the only one that can decide for you.”  Hopefully the mayor wasn’t still looking for a kid.  The idea that she could have been Henry’s mom was still unsettling.

“You don’t understand.  Sean’s father…”

“Doesn’t get to make decisions for you.”  She didn’t wonder where this ‘Sean’ was.  Clearly he wasn’t interested, nor was his father grandparent material.  “You just got to punch back and say, ‘no, this is who I am.’ You want people to look at you differently? Make them. If you want to change things, you’re going to have to go out there and change them yourself, because there are no fairy godmothers in this world.

II

“Gold?”  Emma was restlessly wandering the kitchen, trying to decide if she wanted hot chocolate or a drink from Gold’s decanter when she heard him come down the stairs.

“The alarm from my shop is going off.”  He wore an overcoat and a scarf.  She’d taken the trash out earlier and it had been see-your-breath kind of cold.  That was more than an hour ago.

“Did you want me to come with you?”  Apparently small towns didn’t have security patrols that answered alarms.  So far as she could tell they had one sheriff, and that was about it.

“No, it’s probably just a stray cat trying to get someplace warm.  I won’t be gone fifteen minutes.  Henry’s asleep, I turned off his lamp before I came down.”  He glanced up the stairs.

“Don’t forget gloves,” she suggested before going back into the kitchen to make hot chocolate with cinnamon.  Just thinking about being outside made her cold.  She drank her chocolate while wandering the rooms, looking at the photos on the walls and the odd trinkets.  There was one display case that held nothing but a teacup with a chipped rim; she wondered if the chip made it more or less valuable.  There were pictures of Henry all over the place, one tops of tables and hanging on the walls.  She lost count of how many bookcases there were; Henry’s room had a couple as well.  Gold probably did too, though she hadn’t seen his bedroom.

Emma was washing out her mug when she glanced at the clock and realized it had been more than half an hour since Gold had left, twice the time he’d expected to be gone.  If it was a false attempt to enter the shop he’d be back already; they were only five minutes away.  She slipped her phone out of her pocket and dialed his number.  It rang five times before going to voicemail.

“Crap.”  The way she figured it she only had one choice.  She called the sheriff to ask for a ride.

“Gold?”  She didn’t have a gun with her but she was fast and she was sneaky.  She had the door to the shop open before Graham caught up to her.

“Potential crime scenes are in my job description, not yours. You should let me go first,” Graham suggested.

“Habit,” she said with a shrug, scanning the room.  “This is not that different from what I do.”

“Professional thief?”  There was a hint of humor in his voice that was probably inappropriate but almost made her grin despite her worry.  If anything happened to Gold Henry would be inconsolable.

“Sort of the opposite.  I’m a bail bonds person.”  At least that was part of her job.  She did some bounty hunting as well but that was a little less official and she was talking to the local law.

“Not something we’ve ever had much use of around here.”  There was no one in the main room of the shop so together they moved through the curtain to the back.  Gold was on the floor and he didn’t look like he was moving.

“Shit, shit, shit.”  She turned on the switch, flooding the room with light.  Gold’s chest rose and fell so that was something, at least, but he didn’t flinch at the light.

“I’m going to check out back.”  Graham headed for the door.  Emma knelt next to Gold and looked for injuries.  When she rolled him to his back his hair fell to one side and revealed a bloody gash near his temple.  She didn’t know if the fancy squares in his pocket were supposed to serve any purpose but they were the first thing she grabbed to staunch the blood.

“I hope 911 works in this place.”  She’d never lived in a town small enough to wonder before.

“Don’t bother on my account.”  Gold struggled to sit up but Emma’s light hold on his chest was enough to stop him.  She didn’t realize at first glance how bloodshot his eyes were.

“Slow down there, champ.  Bleeding out on your own office floor is going to make for a pretty embarrassing story.”  Emma frowned.  She should probably ask him some questions or something, but the whole ‘do you know who the president is’ thing never made much sense to her.

“Bleeding?”  His hand went up to his head, fingertips coming away sticky and red.  “I must have hit the corner of the desk when I fell.”

“You fell?”  Graham closed the door when he came back in, and the lack of a draft made the place feel warmer.

“Must have been an uneven patch on the floor.  I should have turned the light on.”  This time he did sit up, wincing a little as he did so.  

“There wasn’t anyone else in here?”  Graham looked skeptical, which was fair because Emma knew that Gold was lying through his teeth.  It was the first lie she’d caught him in.

“No one but me and my shadow.”  He grasped for his cane but didn’t try to stand.  “Thank you for your service, sheriff, but it was a false alarm.  I’m sure Ms. Swan won’t mind driving my car home and you probably should get back to a warm bed somewhere.”

“I could follow you home just to be sure,” Graham offered.  He seemed to be reluctant to leave.

“We’ll call if we need you.”  Gold sat perfectly still until Graham was gone and the sound of the front door closing meant he’d left the building.

“Are you going to tell me now why you were lying?”  Emma stood and held out her hand.  After a moment Gold held on firmly and let her help him to stand.  She didn’t comment on the fact he’d needed help, or that he leaned on the cane more heavily than usual.

“I’d rather wait until we’re home, if you don’t mind.  I don’t like leaving Henry alone in the house.  If you wouldn’t mind locking the back door, please.”  He limped towards the front without waiting for her reply.  She made note of the fact that the lock was pretty crappy and there was a pane of broken glass that she would bet anything wasn’t broken an hour ago.  Calling it locked was a joke, really. The front door at least had a bolt.

“So are you going to tell me now?” she asked when they were back at the house and she’d run upstairs to check on Henry.  He was still sleeping.  Gold was patting his face dry with a towel, his jacket off and his sleeves rolled up.  “Do you need a bandaid?”

“It’s fine,” he said dismissively with a wave of his hand.  “I’m having a drink, would you like one?”

“I’d like the truth.”  She took the drink, though, when he led her out of the kitchen and into the library.

“There was someone in my shop tonight.  A young woman that clearly needed help; she was quite wound up, not acting like herself at all.”

“And she hit you?”  Who in the world broke into a pawn shop and stole things?

“No, no.  She used pepper spray on me, threw me off my balance.  I really did hit the desk.”  He touched his wound lightly with a couple of fingers and winced.  At least it wasn’t bleeding.  “I’ve never seen her like that before.”

“You know her?”

“She’s a client, of sorts.”  He paused for a moment to sit on the sofa, raising his leg to rest on the ottoman.  “You see, Emma, there’s no lawyer here in Storybrooke.  I’m rather good with contracts, and sometimes people come to me for help with deals.  Ashley Boyd sought me out a few months ago.  She’s a young girl, only a year out of high school, and there’s a babe on the way.  Neither her family, such as it is, or the father are helping her.  She wanted to discuss options.”

“You were brokering an adoption?”  She had a sinking suspicion that she knew exactly who he was talking about.  It couldn’t be a coincidence that she’d talked to a young pregnant girl hours ago about ‘punching back’ and a young pregnant girl had broken into the shop and assaulted Gold.  Great.

“I was.  There’s a couple here in town, actually, that has been trying for years to have a child.  They have a nursery ready and names picked out.  I have a keen interest in helping families find each other.”  He glanced towards the hall and the staircase going up to his son’s room.  “She never seemed happy but she was relieved that someone would love and raise her child.  Perhaps reality is setting in now that she’s so close to having the baby.  She was raving about changing her destiny, and something confusing about godmothers.”

“Where is she now?”  Shit, it was the same girl.  And a family that might not get a baby they’d been waiting for, but if Ashley wanted her baby she deserved that chance.  Either way someone was going to lose.

“I don’t know.  She lives at the bed and breakfast and doesn’t have a car.  Her parents are both dead but there’s a stepmother.  I didn’t want to send the sheriff after her, she doesn’t need a record for one confused moment, but we should find her.”

“In the morning.”  She frowned, and wondered again about his wound.  “Are you sure you don’t need to see a doctor?  How do you know it’s safe to go to bed?”

“I’m far too stubborn and thick-headed for a little bump to cause any problems.”  He downed most of his drink in a single gulp.  Maybe the drink helped, because he was more steady on his feet when he stood and left the room.  Emma was about to follow when her phone rang.  It was a Maine area code.

“Hello?”  She hadn’t given her number to anyone except Gold and the guy at the repair shop.  It was a weird time to be calling about her car.

“I just wanted to be sure you made it home safely.  No ill effects?”  The sheriff’s voice was easily identifiable.

“Are you really conscientious or really bored?”  She didn’t bother asking how he had her number.  She was curious why he’d gotten it.

“Actually I have an ulterior motive.  I have discretionary funds in my budget for a deputy, and since your job isn’t that different I thought you might be interested.”

“I’m only in town for a week.”  Less than that now, but she wasn’t counting the days.

“Are you sure?  I can offer you dental, as well as donuts.  The hours are flexible and the boss is easy to work for.”  He laughed, and Emma found herself smiling.  She couldn’t say yes, though.  She had a job and a life in Boston.  Well a job at least.

“Donuts, really?”  She couldn’t think of anything else to say.  

“Sometimes the cliches are true.  I know a place that makes really good donuts.  Maybe I can show you, even if you’re only staying a week.  And maybe you’ll change your mind about staying.”  He reminded her of Henry for a moment.  “Anyway the offer’s genuine if you change your mind.  Both the job and the donuts.”

“Thanks.”  She couldn’t accept the job offer, of course, and it probably was a bad idea to go out with Graham even if it was just donuts.  Donuts could easily mean coffee too, and then they were heading into dangerous pseudo date territory.  This time next week she’d be in Boston.  Leaving behind Henry would be hard enough without making friends with more people.

Emma drained her glass and carried it into the kitchen before heading up to bed.  She deliberately didn’t check in on Henry before closing her bedroom door.  She didn’t need it to become a habit.

[vcdanvers]

Flour and Trouble

A/N: (5-6-19) HEY!! This is my submission for @cant-control-their-fear-imagines  her Summer Writing Challenge- she’s awesome and if you’re reading this, you should definitely pay her blog a visit (:

Prompts: 1 (What’s in that bag and why are you hiding it there?)/14 (Quick! Hide behind the sofa!)

Y/N = Your Name

L/N = Your Last Name

Summary: Mischievous!Reader x Natasha Romanoff, R is known to be a prankster but this time she goes a little too far for a certain someone’s liking. R feels the consequences of this and tries to make it up to Natasha. Fluff. One Shot.

Word count: 1700 something

Warnings: A wee bit of angst but that’s made up for with a lot of fluff- promise.

Disclaimer: I have never written anything before, please have mercy on me, thankS!!! (also your feedback is really appreciated, or, like, leave a like because it’d be cool to know at least one person has read this HAHA)

 It was no secret that Y/N had some curious tendencies. Her mischievous personality was adored but also got her into trouble, more often than she’s willing to admit. Luckily for her, being one of the younger Avengers in the compound, she was let off the hook easily. A little pout was all it took for her fellow team members to have mercy on her (It was incredibly endearing, after all).

Or, well, that was almost always the case. Last time things took a turn and she ended up having to clean the dishes for a week long. If you’d ask her, that was one week to many. But she did really cross the line that time.

 ‘I’m so incredibly bored’ you had whispered to yourself. You had woken up early that morning and was, once again, out for some “good ol’ fun”. After spending your morning gathering the materials you needed, you were ready to start assembling everything for your self-proclaimed master plan. Not only were you mischievous, you were also incredibly resourceful and innovative. The simplest of items could be turned into yet another device to terrorize your team members. This time around you had picked Natasha as your specific target. Natasha had appeared very focused these last couple of days and you thought there would be no harm in trying to distract the redhead a little.

 After setting up your table with a funnel, a bowl, some flour, scissors and Natasha’s hairdryer that you had “borrowed” from her room-without permission- you were ready to get to work. You grabbed the scissors and carefully opened the pack of flour. You created a small opening and poured some of the flour into the bowl. The hairdryer was balanced between your knees to ensure it would be kept upright as you poured the contents of the bowl through the funnel and into the hairdryer. You were ready and all that was left to do now was wait until Natasha would have her daily sparring session. While she was out at the gym, you had time to put the hairdryer back without getting caught and as Natasha would always take a shower after working out, the effects of your prank would soon be revealed. Two birds with one stone, you thought.

 It wasn’t long before you heard a surprised scream from Natasha’s room, followed by her screaming out your name. This was your cue to start running. Natasha was not amused and was out for blood. Your blood, to be more specific. You could hear her footsteps closing in and you knew there was little time left before she would catch you.

Wanda, who had seen the scene unravel, decided to help you out. ‘Quick! Hide behind the sofa!’ she told you and with a swift movement you were on the ground, squashed between the sofa and the wall. You held your breath as you heard Natasha approach Wanda. ‘WHERE IS Y/N’. The words bounced off the walls and came out like a statement rather than a question. Wanda pretended not to know but the Widow was too keen on reading body language and saw right through her. You were close and she knew it.

 A mere 30 seconds later you were roughly pulled from behind the couch by your feet. ‘Y/N WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH TIME THIS IS GOING TO TAKE TO GET OUT AND TO NOT EVEN MENTION THE MESS THAT IS IN MY ROOM RIGHT NOW!’ The string of words came fast and angry. ‘I’m sorry, it wasn’t my intention to anger you I just-’. You were cut off before you could further explain yourself. ‘Not your intention to anger me? What did you THINK was going to happen, genius?’. ‘Nat, I’m sorry, really.’ you tried again. Natasha just rolled her eyes and sighed as she angrily walked off, done with your antics.

 Today marks eight days since your little mishap. You had behaved perfectly the past week and a bit, you had cleaned Natasha’s room and did the dishes- like Tony had ordered- with no real complaints. Sure, you thought it was a little unfair considering you hadn’t actually meant to piss Natasha off but you understood the reason behind it. You had tried apologizing to Natasha, multiple times, but she had had enough and clearly was not ready to accept your apology- yet. An idea came to you, ‘What makes everything better? Food. Duh’. You were going to bake her a cake, she would surely talk to you again, right? To make sure your idea would remain a surprise, you weren’t going to let anyone else in on your little plan.

 This resulted in you having to go to the supermarket to collect all the ingredients you needed to bake your cake, all the Avengers were observant and would notice the missing ingredients, which could endanger the secrecy of your plan. You pretended to head to bed early, saying ‘Goodnight’ at just 10PM. You, however, set an alarm for 2.30AM to start your kitchen adventures. You made yourself comfortable and dozed off until you were rudely shaken out of your slumber at 2.30 in the morning. You were quick to turn off the atrocious beeping sound coming from your phone before it could awaken anyone else.

 After having gathered all your previously bought items into a bag you snuck out your room and made your way to the kitchen. You made sure to be extra quiet as you walked through the hallway, past the other bedrooms. As you got to the kitchen you should have noticed a dim light coming from the area, but in your sleepy state, this detail went completely over your head. You were softly humming to yourself, something you did often without noticing. This time it was to the tune of ‘Somebody To Love’ by Queen. This notified the person currently in the kitchen of your presence before you were aware of theirs. As you pushed the door open your eyes fell onto Natasha, who was standing against the counter, eyebrows raised at you. Startled by the unexpected presence you let out a small screech and nearly fell backward, only regaining your balance last second.

 ‘N-Natasha, hey’ you managed to squeak out as a blush made its way to your cheeks. Her expression went from amused to unimpressed upon noticing the bag you were desperately trying to hide behind your legs. ‘Really, Y/N? Another prank, at this hour?’. ‘No, no, I’m not. This is not what it looks like.’ you stuttered out, intimidated by the piercing green eyes staring at you. ‘Then what’s in that bag and why are you hiding it there?’ You held your head down and were thoroughly inspecting your black and white fuzzy socks as you mumbled out ‘I was going to bake a cake for you, to say sorry, because I really miss you and I’m sorry’. Still a bit skeptical, Natasha had to make sure you were speaking the truth ‘Show me what’s in the bag.’ she commanded. You clumsily retrieved the bag from behind you and handed it to her, still too worried about the look on her face to look her in the eyes. As she took the bag she was slightly surprised to find it was, indeed, filled with baking goods.

Unbeknownst to you, the redhead’s expression softened. She stepped towards you, taking your hands in her own. Seeing you so intimidated by her wasn’t something she enjoyed, she wanted to be taken seriously but she didn’t want to be feared by the younger girl.

She spoke softly, trying to be gentle with you given your current state ‘Y/N? It’s okay. I’m not mad anymore. It’s sweet you wanted to bake a cake for me.’

 Her statement surprised you and you felt a wave of relief wash over you, your Natasha wasn’t upset with you anymore. Blood rushed to your cheeks at your own thoughts, Natasha wasn’t yours by any means but you have had a little crush on her for ages. Lost in your thoughts, you only looked up to face Natasha as you heard her calling your name. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked. Your usual goofy grin made its way back to your face as you told her that you were, in fact, okay. More than okay, but she didn’t need to know that. The redhead didn’t look convinced yet, so you wrapped your arms around her torso and leaned into her.

 You made a muffled noise that Natasha was able to identify as “promise”. She couldn’t help but grin at the girl in her arms- she had a soft spot for you and she knew it. As you yawned, Natasha freed herself from your grip, glancing at the clock and seeing it was now dangerously near 3AM. ‘I think it’s time we both head to bed, don’t you think Y/N?’. In return, you pouted at her ‘But what about your cake?’. She slightly rolled her eyes at your comment while remaining a smile on her face, thinking it was quite endearing that you were so hung up on the idea of making her a cake and “finding a better use for flour” as you had jokingly said before. ‘How about we bake it tomorrow instead? Together?’ she suggested, to which you eagerly agreed. Truthfully, you’d take every opportunity you could get to spend some one-on-one time with the beauty in front of you.

 Natasha pulled you out of your thoughts- once again- as she got a hold of your hand and looked at you expectantly. ‘You coming, L/N?’ she asked teasingly. You ignored her little remark and nodded, walking to your room together. As you had reached your bedroom door you paused. ‘Thank you. For forgiving me, I mean. And walking me to my door, of course’ you said shyly, your actions causing the Widow to gaze at you softly. ‘Anytime’ she said, bringing her arms around you once more and letting a small peck linger on your temple before turning around and making her way back to her own room. ‘Goodnight’ she said just audible enough for you to hear and soft enough to not awaken anyone else. ‘Sweet dreams!’ you called back, a little less careful than Natasha had been, earning a chuckle from the redhead.

[thecolsielife]

Eco tips for the bathroom

I want to share a few tips with you on products that are more eco-friendly that I personally use in my bathroom. I firmly believe that if everyone made a few small changes then that would make a huge impact globally. As a person who previously lived off a single income on minimum wage, the cost of products has been a factor in my choice of products, however with the rising awareness of sustainability, options are becoming more purse friendly.

When buying there are a few things I look out for such as: -

Is the product tested on animals?

Is the packaging recyclable or made from recycled material?

Does the product use harsh chemicals?

Is it made in Britain?

Does it cost the earth? (pun intended)

Obviously everyone will have their own requirements of products they use and sadly quite often there is no 1 product that ticks all the boxes so then you must decide where to compromise. But remember, even doing a little is better than nothing because at the end of the day companies react to how customers spend there money. For example I remember years ago when shopping in supermarkets the eggs where mainly from caged hens, not good. Fast forward to now and the caged hen eggs are a tiny proportion of the display with free range taking up the majority of shelf space. That is all down to people like Jamie Oliver bringing the appalling conditions of caged hens to the mass public's attention, which led to a change in what eggs we buy. So this is proof that we as the customer have a lot more power than we sometimes realise.

So I have 6 products I wish to enlighten you about all of which do not cost the earth, in both sense of the word. First of all is the humble and recently high demand product of the loo roll! Most toilet roll companies now are FSC certified which means that the paper comes from wood that is responsibly managed, socially beneficial, environmentally conscious, and economically viable. Yay. However this brand takes it a step further. The Nicky brand of toilet roll, which is a budget item might I add, work directly with the Woodland Trust to plant native British woodland. How wonderful. Budget friendly, bum friendly and Earth friendly! What more could you want from a loo roll?

My second tip is something I stumbled upon on my Pinterest wonderings, an eco way to clean your bathroom and get it sparkling. It's so simple, all you have to do is mix equal parts washing up liquid with regular white vinegar and top up with water. Now ideally I would love to have a lovely glass spray bottle for the photo but I don't, however I did find an old plant spray bottle so I found a new purpose for it. Do be aware that your bathroom will smell a bit like a chippy for a wee while when you've used the solution, I quite like it even if it does make me peckish!

I have 2 solid bar soaps that I use, the first is a regular hand soap, the second is a solid shaving bar. The hand soap is from the Little Soap Company based in the North Cotswolds Hills. Their products are organic and 100% free from all the nasty things usually found in hand soap. The soap comes in a cute little cardboard box which is an added delight. I've used solid hand soap for a while now and I'm not going back. My hands smell wonderful and feel soft as silk, so why would I go back? Also if you follow them on Instagram you can see their office dog Henry make regular appearances!

The solid shaving bar was an experimental originally as one of my friends had been smugly telling me about her solid shampoo bar she was using. Well not one to be out eco-ed, I got googling, actually it was ebay but I don't think ebaying is a word yet! I found this cute company based in Yorkshire called the Cosy Cottage Soap Company. I have a soft spot for all things Yorkshire anyway as my Mum is from there and I have lived there too so this was ideal. They like the first producers source natural, sustainable ingredients. They use recyclable or compostable packaging too. I have found there is a wee trick to getting the most from the shaving bar which is to make a lather in your hands first and use that on your skin rather than rubbing the soap on your skin, simple because I found that way makes more lather and goes further too. Added benefit to using this soap is that it takes a lot less space in my already tiny bathroom but I don't get any skin irritation either, win win.

The last two items for this eco tip overload is a box of matches and a wooden soap dish holder. There isn't much to say about the soap dish holder, it's pretty self-explanatory, it holds the soap while looking rustic and pretty. This was another of my ebay finds so cheap as chips and also means you don't run the risk of the solid soap slipping around the sink like an eel. The matches was I think something I read in a magazine as one of those old wives tale things. So when it smells badly shall we say, in the bathroom, simply light a match and blow it out. This magically dispels any nasty smell that might try to linger. Both myself and Kilted Viking love the smell of a match and as an added insurance, I wave the match around the room just to be on the safe side.

That's all my wisdom for now. If you're still reading then well done and thank you for investing your time in this and I hope there's something you may adopt in your journey in taking baby steps to living a more sustainable life.

Chrissy

[royalbloodedbastards]

chatzy // cinema and starlight

DATE: April 2, 2020 CHARACTERS: Kieran and Alec ABOUT: Kieran and Alec watch a movie and make burritos. They admire the stars and think about the past.

Kieran missed the feeling of walking on dirt. Feeling his boots sinking into the loam earth of camp, he was reminded of the one nice part of living in Maine. As the weather warmed and the chirps of insects and animals slowly returned to New Athens, Kieran felt more rejuvenated with each new day. Kieran had never been to the Tyche cabin, but the ostentatious decor made the place easy to find. Even from the outside, Kieran could hear the chiming and clicking of old casino games. Would Alec even hear a knock at the door? Thinking better of it, Kieran pulled out his coveted iPhone (11 Pro Max, 512 GB) and texted Alec:

I'm outside.

In line with their attempts towards A) a reasonable schedule and B) something that resembled a degree of responsibility, Alec had taped a roll of wrapping paper to the wall of the fourth 'bedroom' with the pattern of the paper against the wall, to use as a schedule. Each day was split into its own square with a permanent marker, and they had started scrawling plans onto it to keep track. As such, they were not only expecting Kieran, but had the projector and disk fully prepared for his arrival– two hours too early, but ready nonetheless. The time Alec had to spare once realizing they had overshot the mark was spent on tidying up the various knick knacks lying around their cabin. By the time their phone pinged a notification they were elbow deep in dishes and, deciding they had done enough that it appeared the dishes were only from the day prior, they wiped their hands on their jeans and bounded over to the door to open it. "Hey! T'es prêt d'regarder the film? I'm right excited!"

Kieran smiled as the door swung open. "Le sentiment es mutuel." As he stepped inside, Kieran raised an eyebrow at all the stimulus in the cabin. Flashing lights and chirping games—Alec's demeanor seemed very at home. Maybe it was a Tyche thing. Kieran slid off his coat and folded it in his hands. "This cabin is surreal."

Alec beamed at Kieran as they closed the door behind him. When he spoke, they glanced around their cabin in an attempt to put themself in the shoes of someone seeing it for the first time. "Ah bon? I haven't had anyone new in here for a while, j'imagine qu'it's a titch overwhelming." Alec patted the top of one of the pinball machines. "The noise is nice, since I'm here by myself. Like white noise!" Moving further into their cabin, they spread their arms to gesture to the rest of it, then noticed Kieran holding his coat and laughed. Usually they would say to toss it anywhere but instead, they held out a hand. "Want me to hang that up?" they offered brightly.

"That would be great, thanks." Kieran had no idea how anybody could sleep with this much noise, but Alec seemed to operate at a much higher threshold for life than most people. Kieran followed them deeper into the cabin, noting the distinct lack of architectural separation between the main area and the sleeping area. He stuffed one hand into his pocket, holding out his coat with the other. "Remind me, est-ce que toute ta famille parle français?"

Alec took Kieran’s coat and hung it up in the little-used open closet beside the door. Once that task was completed, they spun around to follow Kieran further into their cabin. “Ma famille de Tyche?” they questioned. “‘Cause, no. Just my, uh-“ they almost said sister, but corrected themself with an uncharacteristic pause, surprised at their mistake. “My step-mother. She taught us. So all mortal.” Already recovered from their confusion, they sauntered into their ‘kitchen’, which was the part of the living room that had a fridge. “Did you want any water?”

"Sure, water would be great, thanks." Kieran strolled around the space. He was surprised to find that the longer he was in the room, the homier it felt. Gesturing toward the lofted area, Kieran asked, "Is that where you have the projector set up?"

Alec took a clean glass from the drying rack and filled it with tap water for Kieran. "Yep! Careful though, sorry, the ceiling may be a wee bit low for you. I even have to duck my head a bit." They held out the glass for him, then retracted it. "I'll carry it up, unless you're proficient in ladders." They laughed. As usual, even their teasing lacked even a single note of malevolence.  "Ça marche? J'peux essayer de move le projector down, but that's the comfiest place in the apartment."

"Not proficient in ladders, just chutes." Kieran gestured toward the ladder for Alec to go first. "Don't trouble yourself, the loft works just fine. I've always wanted to hang out in one of these, actually. Never had the opportunity before."

Alec laughed at Kieran’s joke- they hadn’t forgotten how funny he was, but the effect managed to not be dampened by expectations. “Awesome!” Glass of water in one hand, they easily scaled the ladder to the loft. “You’ve never been in a loft before?” they asked, poking their head over the edge so they could still see him. “I thought the Hermes cabin had one.”

"I didn't have to spend any time in the Hermes cabin, fortunately." Kieran followed Alec's lead and climbed up to the loft. As they predicted Kieran bonked his head on the ceiling as he reached the top step. "Ow." Crouching down, he crawled into the space. It was small but homey. Kieran made a bet with himself about how long he'd last up here before becoming too uncomfortable. "This is really charming. I like the way you've dressed it up."

"Fortunately?" Alec questioned, pretending Kieran didn't hit his head as they fiddled with the projector to readjust it to the proper area on the wall. With how old the machine was, it tended to slowly dip its focus towards the floor after an hour or so of focus. After fixing it, they pulled a pillow to a comfortable distance from the 'screen' and sat down with crossed legs. Instead of starting the movie, they turned to Kieran. "Really? Thank you! I tried to make it comfy even though the roof is low. I think keeping one window open really helped, even though it's kinda too dark to see out now."

"I don't do so well in cramped social situations." Kieran looked at his surroundings. "Current circumstances excluded." Kieran found a small pile of pillows to lean on and pulled them towards him. He tried lying down several ways before getting comfortable. "I'm sure this nook is really picturesque during sunrise. With a proper breakfast and bed, you know. The works."

"Fair, fair." Alec pulled a few pillows towards them as well but didn't change their position yet. If they wanted to lie down during the movie, they didn't wish to interrupt by dragging cushions around. "It is! Making a smoothie and crawling up here is the best way to start a day, really. Wait! I changed my mind. T'peux monter sur le roof et voir le sunset in the morning. Lying on your back, feeling as the first rays of sun wash over you, y'really feel amazing. Like a new person."

"The sunrise?" Kieran smirked. "Sorry. That does sound really wonderful. I actually used to wake up a daybreak when I was still living in Maine. On the weekends, I'd make a habit of getting up before the sun so that by the time the sun was rising, I was already out of the house. I'd take long hikes or just walk around the city."

Confused for a few seconds, Alec went back over their words, then threw their head back in a laugh. Their body followed soon after as they sprawled across the floor of the loft. "Sunrise," they corrected themself. "But that sounds awesome! I've never been to Maine. That's on the East coast, eh? I say 'eh', but I'm really not sure. I'm pretty sure. It is, yeah?"

"Yes," Kieran laughed. "It's on the east coast. But the coast up there is much more beautiful than the ones down here. I mean, you have to be vaccinated to enter the waterways here. Up there, there's more rocky outcroppings and greenery. It's almost romantic." Kieran gestured toward Alec. "How about you? You're from Canada, right? Were you close to the coast?"

"Oh, I love romantic scenery." Alec sighed and pressed the back of their hand to their forehead. "If I don't feel like I'm in an old, like, pastoral novel at any point, I'm living my life some wrong." They rolled over onto their stomach and hugged a pillow under their arms as they turned to Kieran. "From Canada? What gave it away, the accent?" They laughed at their own joke. "Y'could say I'm close to the coast." As they said it, they realized Kieran wouldn't get the humour in it. "I'm from Nova Scotia, in the Maritimes. As close to the coast as you can get."

Kieran laughed, following along with Alec's words. "Oh, you don't say? I've always been curious about Nova Scotia. A lot of great films have been shot there. It sounds like a beautiful place."

"It's cool," Alec answered, dipping down a degree in enthusiasm to only a mid-level of eagerness– which for a regular person, was still high. "Lots of lighthouses. Halifax is really the best place to go, smaller towns, pretty boring." Recovered already, they smiled at Kieran. "It is beautiful, I love the ocean." They barely took a breath before continuing. "I'm really glad you came over! You seem really interesting, y'know? And we've only talked a few times."

Kieran laughed at the quickness of Alec's train of thought. "Likewise. I don't think I've met anybody else that matches your level of enthusiasm for... Most things." Kieran gave them a genuine smile. "I'm glad we made these plans."

Alec beamed back at him. "I love things!" Immediately, they realized how that sounded, and they laughed. "Most things, I mean. J'sais pas une reason to not be enthusiastic? I mean, I know a lot of reasons to not enjoy specific things. But I think going into anything new, or anything old and proven true, if I assume it's going to be good, things tend to work out! Like talking to you."

"That's a great outlook. I grew up with the 'if it doesn't have monetary or social value, it doesn't have value' type of outlook. Open-mindedness came in short supply. And then coming here, I mean," Kieran waved his hand. "Judgment comes very easily for me and now I have siblings to share that quality with. But it's refreshing to think in a different way."

Alec listened carefully, not so much filing everything Kieran was telling them away as they were committing the impression of this moment to memory. "I think I kind of get it? My parents are right judgemental, but I got lucky with siblings." They tilted their head, alarmed momentarily."That's not saying you didn't! I just meant growing up with them." Breathing out the mood change, they brightened up again. "I'm glad I can help with that! I mean, I hope that you meant me." They laughed, not worried in the slightest. "Or that'd be awkward."

Kieran chuckled. "Yes, I meant you." He gestured at the projector. "Anyways, sorry to have diverted our attention from the thing we came here to do. Thanks for setting all of this up."

Alec had forgotten about the projector. "Right, right!" They crawled over to their ancient laptop and tapped the space bar until the screen finally lit up. "I think you'll like this movie? Like I said, the DVD is old as death, but it's better quality than streaming it online." Glancing back at him, they smiled. "Comfortable?"

Kieran made a makeshift nest to give some padding between his bony frame and the floor. "As comfortable as I'll ever be." He had trusted Alec's choice in cinema, given everything they had discussed previously. Kieran was legitimately excited and hoped that it showed through his RBF.

[LINE]

Alec waited until the final credits rolled to pause the DVD. They sat up from their pile of cushions, stretched forward like a cat stretching, then smiled at Kieran. Anxious was too strong a word, but there were certainly still some nerves present. Something about Kieran made them want to... not impress him, but find more similarities. "Qu'est-ce que tu penses?"

Kieran, who had slowly come to an upright position as the film progressed, had his chin cradled in one hand, brows furrowed in thought. He let Alec's question hang in the air for more than a moment before responding. "What can I say? It was... Brilliant." Kieran gestured carefully in the air, trying to parse his thoughts. "Firstly, the way that the film maximizes the medium by telling a story in real time, letting the audience steep with Cleo as she goes through this soul-searching two-hour period—there's a level of intimacy shared between the filmmaker and the audience that is so often neglected. And then the way Cleo's superficiality and narcissism is constantly contrasted with her morality and the direness of her circumstances—I mean..." Kieran shrugged. He wasn't used to having an outlet to voice these thoughts out loud and found himself at a loss for words. Kieran was beaming. "It was wonderful.”

Alec pressed both of their hands to their cheeks as though trying to contain the grin that was spreading across their face. "Câlisse, I know, right?" They were too excited to stay sitting and moved up onto their knees. "The titles built in, that specify the time? Genius. Especially because, hear me out, this is crazy, the film isn't actually keeping pace with us! It's like, fifteen minutes off overall, but because it's so close– since they only have scenes last a minute or two over what the time in the movie says it is– and they put the timing right on the screen, like 'Cléo de 8 à 8:15', it feels like it's only fifteen minutes 'cause they trick us into it!" They shook their head. "And don't even get me started on how they tie her narcissism into the constant mirror imagery and her admiring herself, and that the turning point, that the moment Cléo realized she had to change was when her own pocket mirror broke? Crisse, goosebumps, every time."

Kieran nodded along, hanging onto Alec's words. Once Alec finished, Kieran gave them a smile. "You know, you're very insightful."

Alec ran their fingers through their hair to fix how it had been flattened to one side from lying down. “Yeah? Thank you! I’m glad you think so!”

"Yeah," Kieran laid onto his side, propping himself up with his elbow. "You're very interesting."

"'Cause of my movie views?" Alec changed position again, this time moving back to sit with their legs crossed. They grinned at Kieran. "Or in general?"

"In general," Kieran clarified. "In part because of your interest and knowledge, for sure, but also because of your personality at large. Maybe I just need to meet more people, but in my experience, most people don't have your joie de vivre." Kieran let himself lie all the way down, his elbow already protesting his position. "You're also a surprisingly good listener."

“I make other people listen to me so much that I figured I should return the favour,” Alec laughed. “But thank you! I hope I can keep proving that!”

Kieran laughed. He idly ran a finger along the seam of a small throw pillow beside him. "So do you live here by yourself?"

Alec sighed as they stretched their legs out in front of them now. “Yeah, both my siblings moved out. It’s right quiet now, other than the machines, so I try to have people over whenever I can.”

"Are you the type of person that craves company?" Kieran suspected that he knew the answer but asked anyway.

“I dunno if I’d say crave.” Alec pressed a hand into their cheek as they considered it. “I mean, I have a lot of hobbies that I can do by myself. But I definitely prefer being around people than not! I’d go crazy being by myself all day.” They cocked their head to one side. “You?”

"Well..." Kieran felt a small hiccup of self-consciousness. "I spend a lot of time by myself, actually. Most of the time." Kieran deliberately omitted the fact that 90% of his time was spent in solitude. "I never find myself yearning for social interaction. It's actually taken a lot of conscious effort the last few days to go to all of these outings."

“Hm.” Alec drew their eyebrows together, trying to imagine what that was like. “Why have you been going to them? Pushing your comfort zone?”

"Yes, in a way." Kieran folded his hands behind his head. "I suppose I'm realizing that I'm reaching... Adulthood. And I spend most of my day lounging, pursuing hobbies, not really contributing to the greater culture in any meaningful way. And then the other at the party when I got so unreasonably emotional about what my siblings were doing..." He shrugged. "I guess I'm realizing that all of my brainpower is going toward my siblings and watching movies. And I love those things, of course. But I'm realizing how small my world is. I'm like le petit prince, still stuck on my little planet with my vain, little rose, but I need to explore the rest of the universe."

Alec smiled at the reference, especially at how Kieran related to the story. “That’s why you wanted to hang out alone, then? Build some new connections?” They leaned back on their hands. “Makes total sense! Do you have any other hobbies?”

"Yep, exactly why." All of Kieran's instincts were screaming at him to stop talking. He was incredibly unpracticed with sharing his feelings and doing so now felt simultaneously terrifying and exhilarating. "Not many other hobbies. I sometimes do some freelance videography for small businesses or whatnot. I've considered taking up documentary filmmaking but I haven't come up with a subject that inspires me." Kieran turned to look at Alec. "How about you?"

"I was going to ask if you wanted to make your own films!" Now too excited to stay still, Alec returned to half sitting up on their knees. "Chouette! I wish I knew more about making films. I've seen my friends do it but I don't think I have the broad vision for it." They made a frame with their fingers and smiled at Kieran through it. "But you seem like you would. I get too caught up in the wee tiny details and then nothing gets done." As they speak they make the frame smaller and smaller until they can only see part of Kieran's face, at which point they drop their hands onto their lap. "I'm way better at stuff with like, a singular focus, that doesn't need to tie a bunch of things together. Like origami! Or baking, or card tricks, or sewing. Even though sewing is kinda literally tying things together?"

"There's some advantages to that approach. Completion being one," Kieran shrugged. "I'm not sure if I'd be the same way. I suppose I haven't yet found my niche."

"Isn't that good you haven't found it yet? Now you have way more time to explore more interests!" Alec ran their fingers through their hair again, this time messing it back up. "Y'never know what you could stumble across while still looking. Like, my step-mother took a Creative Writing class in college 'cause she thought it'd be a throwaway, and now she's writing a book! Focusing all your interests on one thing at our age seems kinda boring? At least, if you aren't trying anything new because of it."

Kieran laughed bitterly. "Well I'm not trying anything new, but I'm hardly focusing all my interests on one thing. They're not really focused on anything, truly." Kieran gestured toward Alec. "Do you have some grand ambition?"

Alec was undeterred. “The first new thing you could try is trying new things!” They shook their head when Kieran gestured to them. “I’m bad with ambition. It’s my fatal flaw.”

"I think meeting new people is enough of a new venture for a while. Let's not get ahead of ourselves." Kieran nodded. "You and me both."

“I’ll dial it back then,” they laughed. “Sorry. I can get a bit too...” Alec made a heaving gesture with their arms. “Ahead of myself, sure. I’m working on it though! The ambition, not the enthusiasm.” They sighed. “I don’t think any of my skills are really great for work?”

"I don't think that anybody at camp has skills that are particularly suited for corporate America," Kieran joked.

“Whaaat?” Alec grinned at Kieran. “You’re saying I can’t make a career out of avoiding lava while rock climbing?”

Kieran laughed. "I'm sure Michael Bay would find you an invaluable asset."

Alec doubled over laughing. It took them a solid ten seconds to regain some control. “Oh my god. Yeah, I’m sure, I’ll keep that in mind!”

Kieran let his head roll back so he was looking straight up at the ceiling. He usually never had to fill these silences and found himself having nothing more to say.

Alec was fully used to being the one to fill silences, so they easily launched back into conversation. “Have you talked to your siblings?”

Kieran laughed. "Uh. Yes. The day after, actually. Went surprisingly well."

“Yeah? I’m so happy to hear that!” Alec sounded genuinely delighted. “Amazing followthrough. Ten out of ten.”

"Thank you, it was a proud moment for me." He chuckled and turned to face Alec. "Actually, though, thank you. Our conversation was a bit of a turning point for me and I really appreciate that you helped me parse through those... Emotions."

Something inside Alec’s chest warmed up. Nothing felt better than knowing they had helped someone out, even a little bit. “I just listened, really. And I’m really down to do it again, if you need to talk to someone! Like I said, the degree of separation is golden sometimes.” They paused for a couple seconds. “And we’re friends, right?”

Kieran smiled up at the ceiling. He let the question hang in the air for a few moments because the answer felt warm in his head. "Yeah. We're friends."

Alec exhaled nerves they didn’t know they had once Kieran answered. They would have brightened up, had it been possible to smile more than they were already. “Really?”

"Don't make me say it again, it already took me three years to admit I was related to Parker and Malia," he joked.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Alec laughed, waving their hand. “That’s just nice. You seem like you choose your friends carefully.”

"I maintain a pretty high barrier of entry, yes. I guess you just managed to jump right over it."

“Like a horse, in a competition! Jumping over a barrier.” Alec didn’t know why they said that. “How did they react to being disinvited? Uninvited,” they corrected themself.

Kieran snorted. "Exactly like that." He ran his fingers across the weave of his sweater. "They took it well. They were actually very supportive of my reasoning."

“Yeah?” Alec leaned forward, propping their chin up on one hand. “That’s awesome! You must’ve explained it well, eh?”

"Eloquently?" Kieran suggested.

“Eloquently,” Alec confirmed. They sat up again and ran a hand back through their hair to mess it up once more with a half grin. “You talked to them about everything you wanted to?”

Kieran joined Alec in sitting up and pulled himself into a cross-legged position. "I told them that I'm trying to make friends with people outside of just my siblings, that I'm looking to find my own space. I didn't get into the nitty gritty of my quasi-existential crisis, but I think the point was made all the same."

Alec nodded along as Kieran spoke. “Yeah, y’don’t have to tell them every detail.” They sat back down into a cross legged position to mirror Kieran without realizing. “I can introduce you to way more people, too! You might get right along with my sister.”

"Who's your sister? I'd be happy to meet her." Kieran wasn't sure if he meant this, but he figured that if he was going to try to meet new people, going with friends of a friend would be the safest route.

“Fizzy!” they exclaimed, ridiculously pleased by his answer. “Fizz Caner. You could not, but I dunno, I have a feeling it’d work and those tend to be right. Tyche intuition?”

Kieran pursed his lips together. The impulse to comment on their sister's name was overwhelming. Kieran swallowed the thought and smiled in return. "Well, seems like you've been pretty lucky thus far."

“Right you are! We wouldn’t be friends otherwise.” Alec leaned over to grab a loose pack of cards from beside the wall and started shuffling them so they wouldn’t fidget. “You know any good games?”

"Rummy? Solitaire?" Kieran hadn't played cards in years and wasn't sure if he even remembered the rules to any card games. "Go fish?"

Alec laughed. "I love Go fish." Looking at the cards now, they found they didn't especially want to play, but they continued shuffling the pack between their hands. "Did you eat before you came over?"

Kieran nodded. "A bit. I had some Waldorf salad left over from lunch. Have you?"

"Nope! Just snacks. Want me to make something?" Alec started putting some of cushions around them back against the wall. "There's this recipe for black bean and sweet potato burritos I've been wanting to make for centuries."

“Oh, I didn’t you know you cooked.” Kieran tried not to sound too awed. “That sounds delicious. Sounds like the kind of thing I usually order for myself, actually.”

"Makes it easier to be vegan if you can cook your own food!" Alec started stretching, turning to crack their back. "Awesome, I'll get started on that then. Doesn't take too long. How spicy do you like things?"

Kieran laughs. "I don't." He plants his hands behind him to arch his back, getting a much needed stretch. He could already tell he would be sore the next day from being curled up for so long.

"Order taken! No spicy." Alec started down the ladder. "Do you cook?"

"I assemble." Kieran followed Alec, waiting at the top of the ladder as they climbed down. "Raw things, I can prepare just fine. I'm okay with a stove, but my brother is much better. He usually cooks."

Alec hopped down when they were just a few rungs off of the ground. "Parker? Huh. I don't think I knew that." They headed over to start pulling ingredients out of the fridge and cabinets. "Wanna help me out then? I can teach you the recipe!"

Kieran followed down the ladder, being careful not to knock his head this time. “Sure. Whatever you need me to do. I’m not particularly speedy but I know how to follow directions.”

"It's simple too," they chattered, lining everything up on the counter. "Basically three ingredients and some spices. Not spicy spices, just spices." Alec put a pot on the stove to start boiling the sweet potatoes. "Can you drain the black beans?"

"Yes I can," Kieran nodded. He grabbed the can opener and went to work. "How long have you been vegan?"

Alec twirled a knife and started slicing the sweet potatoes. "Eleven years or so! I think I was ten? So yeah, that makes eleven." They laughed. "I can do math, totally."

"That's pretty young. Was it a familial decision?" Kieran punctured two holes in either side of the can and started pouring the bean water into the sink.

"Oh god no, my dad's a fisherman." Alec made a face. "I wanted to when I was nine but they said I had to wait, so I waited a year and then refused to eat meat anymore. And I was already allergic to dairy, so."

"Well that worked out conveniently, then." Kieran opened the can of beans up the rest of the way once they were drained and slid the can toward Alec. "What's next, chef?"

Alec finished cutting the squash and rinsed the can out, leaving it in the sink for later. They laughed. "Honestly? Nothing until the squash is boiled. It's a super simple recipe, just gotta wait and then mash it, fold the beans in, put them in the tortillas and spice and bake them." Alec stretched their arms out behind them. "Five minutes prep, twenty minutes bake."

"Alright," Kieran leaned against the counter, wiping his hands on a random towel. "How should we spend twenty minutes?"

"I'd love to get to know you more!" they said earnestly, wiping their hands on their jeans. "Or if you don't wanna just talk there's a bazillion games around, or I could show you the roof? Not sure if climbing out a window is really your thing though."

"Not really," Kieran admitted. "But neither is talking, so why don't we go up to the roof, I'll tell you more about myself, and we'll call that the game?"

Alec blinked a few times then broke into a smile so wide they could barely see. "Amazing! You're a real innovator, eh?" They turned the stove off so they could quickly complete the final few steps and set a timer on their phone for twenty minutes once the burritos were in the oven. "So y'know, I do mean actually climbing out the window, there's no ladder."

"Shit. Okay, well, let's see it." Kieran already knew he was going to have objections, but maybe it wouldn't be as bad as it sounds. "Lead the way."

Alec triple checked their phone was in their pocket before heading over to the ladder. They tapped their collar quickly then scaled it with ease and waited for Kieran at the top. "It's easy to get up there! Just thought a heads up is good, eh, so you don't re-climb the ladder just to sit in the loft again like some intense deja-vecu?"

"I think you might be overestimating my athletic ability." Kieran followed after them, making sure to duck his head this time as he reached the top. "I might need a hand getting up there, if that's going to be possible."

"Of course!" Alec chirped, pausing to smile at Kieran over their shoulder midway through opening the window. "The ledge goes out a few inches so it's pretty easy to get up once you're standing anyway." They pushed the pane outwards and rested one hand on the inside of the wall, one on the outside to steady their balance as they stood, then pulled themself up to get to the roof in one fluid motion. A second later, their head appeared upside down in the window frame. They grinned. "Hi."

"Inches," Kieran repeated in a whisper. He walked up to the window and grinned at Alec. "This seems potentially injurious." He stuck his head out of the window to assess how bad the fall would be and sighed. "How am I supposed to do this?"

Alec scooted back on the roof so their head wasn't in Kieran's way. "If you stand on the ledge your head should be above roof level, and then you just gotta pull yourself up." They rested their chin on one hand and smiled down at him. "I can help you up too, if you take my hand."

"If I survived a war just to fall off a roof..." Kieran sighed and climbed onto the windowsill. "I might need your hand," he mentioned as he stood on the sill. Grabbing onto the edge of the roof and suddenly imagining all the grisly ways he cool fall and maim himself, Kieran's adrenaline kicked in. With one assertive push, Kieran managed to get high enough to swing a leg over. With one desperate pull, Kieran flopped fully onto the rooftop, his heart pounding. "Fuck."

Alec sat back, ready to grab Kieran if he needed it, and instead was astoundingly impressed. They whistled a surprised note and scooted backwards on the roof to give him space. "Câlisse, I only try the ol' leg trick when I'm feeling fancy! You're a natural."

"Funny, I only try it when I'm fearing for my life." Kieran took a moment to catch his breath before sitting up. "You do that often?"

Alec leaned back on their hands and nodded their head towards the plastic cushions strewn about the roof. "Couple times a day! It's great for stargazing or watching clouds, or if you just gotta get away, eh? No one can see you from the ground up here."

Kieran crawled over to the plastic cushions, collapsing onto a small pile of them. Folding his hands behind his head, he looked up to the sky. "I could see why this would be worth the effort."

Alec followed him and lay down a couple feet away. "You ever think about how big the sky is?" They rethought their words and laughed. "That sounded weird. I meant like, it really puts everything in perspective. No matter what's going on down here, the clouds keep drifting and the sun keeps shining and the wind keeps blowing, eh? Nature's a force way beyond us."

"True." Kieran thought beyond the sky, of the insignificance of their position in space, of the minuteness of humanity in the timeline of the universe. He wondered if that was too cynical to mention. "This is a nice spot."

"Yeah," Alec exhaled happily. "It is. It's the best spot to just think on things." They rolled onto their side to face Kieran. "Do you have somewhere like that in your apartment? The 'calm' spot?"

"My bed?" Kieran chuckled. "No, Parker and I are pretty calm. There's not really a calm spot, it's just the climate of the apartment in general."

"Huh." Alec laughed and rested their cheek on their hand. "Maybe I gotta set apart different spaces, 'cause I live by myself? I dunno, it's nice to have a place to be even more alone even though no one else lives here. Does that make sense?" They shook their head and moved so they could lie on their stomach now, still facing Kieran.

"Sure." Kieran turned onto his side to face Alec. "I suppose I'm just so often alone that I never feel the need designate a special area for it."

Alec considered Kieran's response carefully, adding it to what they already knew about him. "Do you like being alone so much?"

"I don't think about it," he admitted. "It's my default. I've always been by myself, even when I was younger. I didn't have any siblings, no neighbors. Not too many friends, honestly. Not to sound tragic, I truly did not mind being alone."

The corner of Alec's mouth tugged down but they didn't fully frown. "That sounds really lonely, Kieran," they said after a moment's pause. Going over his words again, they blinked a few times. "Not even neighbours?"

"No," Kieran sighed. He didn't love to talk about his home life, but supposed this is how relationships were formed. "My father is fairly well-off, so we lived on a pretty large property at the end of a long drive. We had no neighbors by design. But again, it suited me just fine. I mostly spent my time hiking trails or watching movies. I was never really very social."

"Because you didn't want to be, or 'cause that's how things were?" they questioned, then shook their head. "Sorry, you don't have to answer anything I'm asking if you don't want– I'm just curious." Alec made a face. "Not like, curious in a way that I'm examining you or anything, I just want to get to know you better?"

"That's okay," Kieran responded. "It was a little bit of both. If you raise a child in a room with no light, he learns to thrive in the dark, right? I mean, ethics and morality aside. The metaphor is flawed." Kieran chuckled. "But I think you get my point."

Alec nodded along slowly as Kieran spoke, hanging on to every word. "No, no, it makes sense. But in that case, when exposed to it, even if the light is glaring for a while, your eyes adjust eventually, eh?" They smiled at him. "Let me know if I'm shining a flashlight at you. Metaphorically."

Kieran laughed, nodding in understanding. "Excellent point." He fell onto his back again and looked up at the sky. His eyes had adjusted to the dark and he could see all the stars, pinpricks of light in the sky.March 30, 2020

Alec watched him for a few more seconds before following his lead and turning to stare at the stars instead. "How long've you been at camp?"

Kieran thought back. "Eight years." Saying it out loud, he suddenly realized how long he had been here and how much time had passed. Kieran knew that he must have been a different person after all that time, but wondered why he felt so much of the same. "How about you?"

Alec counted backwards on their fingers. "About four years? Three maybe." They laughed. "I think I was seventeen, but that could be wrong."

"I was fifteen," Kieran reflected. "Strange how time passes." The words sounded hollow, but Kieran meant them. At the very least, Kieran did find it all strange.

"Really is, eh?" Alec turned their head to look at Kieran again. "Ever wish you had like, a normal high school experience? I sure don't."

Kieran pressed his lips together. He thought about it all the time. Kieran knew the only reason he came to camp is because his father didn't want to risk his own safety and didn't think twice about sacrificing Kieran's chance at a normal life. "Frequently," he replied.

Alec frowned and rolled back onto their side. "Yeah?" they asked to prompt him to continue.

Kieran held his silence for a moment. "This is not where I belong, Alec. I think it's painfully obvious that I don't have any of the skills that Chiron is grooming these kids to have. Every altercation I've been a part of, I've needed to be rescued." Kieran shook his head. "The things that I'm good at aren't valued here. Maybe they would have been great assets in a formal educational institution, but my dad robbed me of that opportunity because he was afraid of his own life getting messy. So," Kieran shrugged, "Yes. I do wish I had a normal high school experience and not this lethal bootcamp for super-powered individuals, with whom I have no place."

Alec rested their cheek on their hand as Kieran spoke. Once he finished, there was a solid silence as they mulled his words over. "What's the reason you've stayed for so long?"

Kieran's voice fell to a murmur. "Where would I go?"

That was the answer Alec had been expecting, but a solution hadn't come to mind in the two seconds of lead up. They bit the inside of their cheek. "Where do you think you'd be if you hadn't come here?"

"Dartmouth," Kieran speculated without missing a beat. "It was my father's alma mater and he's an annual donor. They'd have to take me."

"Have you thought about getting your high school degree online?" Alec asked, pulling one of the cushions closer. "If that's what's stopping you?"

Kieran half-chuckled. The idea of an online education sounded laughable, but Kieran realized he wasn't in a place to judge. "Maybe. I suppose I haven't considered it." He shrugged. "Honestly, at this point the idea of attending an undergraduate program when I'd already be older than 99% of the students is... Unappealing to say the least."

Alec frowned slightly, not understanding. "But if that's what you want to do, why let something like that get in your way?"

Kieran furrowed his brows. "I guess... I don't know what I want."

Tracing a few patterns on the pillow, Alec continued. "You have plenty of time to figure it out. And maybe more of a blank slate? Following what you think you should do doesn't leave much room to learn, y'know, who you actually are or what you want. They're called growing pains for a reason, eh? S'never easy."

"Hm." Kieran fell quiet, Alec's words sitting in his brain. He was just now realizing how easy it was for him to deflect these thoughts—apparently he had been doing so for eight years. "I suppose."

"Sometimes just knowing you want something is ambition enough until you work the rest out!" Alec gave Kieran a soft smile, then flopped onto their back again to stare up at the sky. "Part of being kind to yourself is being patient, eh? And if you're already studying film and your other interests without school, you've sure got the drive to do anything you want, with or without it! Trust me, I have none of it. The drive, I mean. I've had enough of school." They laughed.

Kieran contemplated Alec's words. "That's an interesting assessment." Kieran sat up and looked around. "How much time is left on the oven?"

Alec checked their phone, following Kieran's lead to a seated position. "Five minutes! We can head back in now. It's easier getting in, I think, 'cause you just gotta step down." They stood up and made their way over to the edge of the roof.

Kieran sighed, not totally convinced. "I'll have to watch your technique more carefully this time." He followed Alec to the edge of the roof and tried not to look at the distance to the ground.

"Okay!" Alec got down on their stomach on the edge of the roof so they could swing their legs over the side, then moved one hand to the inside of the window and wiggled down an inch until their feet were touching the window sill. "I'll be just inside, so if you need a hand to pull you in, I gotchu!" With that, they let go of the roof and pulled themself into the loft with their other hand.

Kieran crawled over to the edge and yelled down, "I'll definitely need a hand!" With his best effort, Kieran recreated Alec's maneuver. With one foot landing firmly on the sill, he stepped down slowly with his other before slowly crouching, trying to step back inside.

Alec reached forward to take Kieran's forearm and help him inside. They grinned at him. "You're a natural! Ça va?"

Kieran caught his breath as he landed inside. That was enough risk for the entire month. "Ça va," he replied, dusting off pants and palms.

"I have a lint roller if you need it," they offered with a laugh. "Gotta get the cat fur off somehow before the Morph cabin makes me die."

"That's okay." Kieran shook his head. "It's just clothes." Kieran made his way down the ladder. "It smells delicious in here."

"It does, eh?" Alec turned the timer off on their phone and followed Kieran down the ladder. They grabbed the towel hanging from the bar on the oven and used it to remove the burritos. "Can you grab a couple plates from the drying rack?"

Kieran did as he was told, making a neat stack of plates on the counter. "Should I set a table?"

Alec tried to remember what that would entail. "Sure! Silverware's in the drawer in front of you there. And I have... cups? What else do we need?"

"Napkins?" Kieran pulled a pair of forks and knives from the drawer, laying them on top of the plate. "May I use your restroom before we eat?"

"Right, yeah, napkins! I have paper towel?" Alec gave him a sheepish grin. "I'll figure it out. And yeah, right over there!" They wondered if hand towels folded small enough could pass for fancier napkins.

"Thank you." Kieran stepped back to the front of the cabin to fish a small pouch from his coat pocket before heading to the bathroom. "I'll just be a few minutes."

Alec's forehead creased in confusion as they watched him, but they shook it off and set about figuring out the napkins. Quickly, they remembered one of their main hobbies and folded two hand towels into miniature swans, setting them in front of each plate on the poker table they had chosen to serve as a dinner table. Once it was arranged to their liking, they took a seat to wait for Kieran.

After a few minutes, Kieran emerged from the bathroom and joined Alec at the poker table. "Resourceful," Kieran smiled. He sat down across Alec, laying the pouch on the edge of the table. "Thank you for cooking tonight."

Alec beamed at the praise. "Thanks! Figured I'd put a talent to use!" They rubbed their cheek against their shoulder at the second compliment, taking it more genuinely than the first. "No problem! I love cooking. Especially for friends." They glanced at the pouch. "Can I ask what that's for?"

Kieran couldn't help smiling a bit at the mention of friends. "This?" Kieran put a hand on the pouch. "It's just for my glucose meter and insulin."

"Oh! Okay." Alec nodded in understanding. "Good to know." They picked up their knife and fork, then put them down again. "These're burritos. Oops." Instead, they picked up their burrito and lifted it to Kieran with a laugh. "Cheers?"

Kieran laughed and opted for the fork and knife anyway. He tapped the tip of his fork against Alec's burrito. "Cheers."

[tk-writer]

Ticklish, kitten? - Ace Attorney [Mia/Godot]

oh look a random fic where i self projected lksfjghksj dont look at me

WARNING: contains Ace Attorney spoiler for the trilogy!!

word count: 2199

~~~

Mia Fey flicked on the lights as soon as she entered her empty condo.

Home, at last. A sigh escaped her smudged red lips as she finally felt solace for the first time since 5 AM that morning. Her heels were off in a matter of milliseconds; she was thankful to have some relief after being on her feet for nearly sixteen hours. The court had shown no mercy that day, not even to a novice like her. Not that she had expected any differently.

However, the trial was the last thing on her mind.

She glanced around her dimly lit living room. The emptiness that echoed back was deafening, shoving a reminder of her constant solitude in her face. Normally she wouldn’t care of such trivial matters; she was a woman who enjoyed her privacy and independence, after all.

But things were different now. Now that she had met him.

She made her way to the bathroom, leaving her confining work clothes behind in absent-minded piles on the oak wood floors. I’ll pick them up later, I swear, she lied to herself. She stood in the hot water and let it roll over her weary skin, thankful to feel something after what felt like a lifetime of depravity. Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed. She didn’t get out until her skin was flushed red and on the verge of blistering.

She slipped into a pair of cotton shorts and a T shirt. Chuckling inwardly, she wondered what her colleagues would think if they saw her dressed in such a way. Mia didn’t step foot outside unless she was donned in designer wear, no matter if she was inside or outside the court. It was just who she was, or at least the image she had created for herself.

No one saw her after hours, when the lights were low and the darkness invaded. Nobody knew of her nightly routine, which consisted of hunching over a half-filled coffee mug and a thick file of court papers until the wee hours of the morning, an amalgamate of decaf medium roast and milk and tears.

Nobody ever did.

Until now.

An uproarious buzz jolted her out of her headspace and back to reality. She furrowed her brows, wondering who the hell would pay a visit at such a late hour. She stood up and walked to the front, punching the display button on her security screen a little too hard.

“Hey, kitten.”

An arrogant, pearly white smile gazed back at her from the outside camera. Mia’s entire body tensed. For a moment she stayed frozen, unsure of which action to take. She had never expected him to come, especially not this late. He was still dressed in his suit; he must have come directly from his office. That was so much like him to work this late, even on a weeknight.

“Mr. Armando? Sorry, but what the hell are you doing here exactly? Do you know what time it is?”

“Of course. I’m simply checking in on my protégé. Wanted to make sure my apprentice was doing alright after getting chewed up and spit out in court today.”

Irritation coursed through her veins, but she sighed when she realized he was right. No use getting angry at the truth.

“So, are you going to let me in?”

She said nothing at first, peering down at her frumpy pajamas and her bare feet. Without looking in the mirror she knew her eyes were red and strained from the past hour or so of crying. There was no way she wanted Diego Armando to witness her in such a state.

“Now’s not really a good time.”

He put his hands in his pockets and exhaled deeply. She knew he hated being rejected, but he wasn’t the aggressive type. At least not behind closed doors. At least not with her.

Perhaps that’s why she liked him so much.

“… Alright then. I’ll see ya tomorrow. Just promise me you’ll take care of yourself, okay?”

He turned around and almost disappeared as quickly as he had come. Mia immediately regretted being so short.

“Wait!”

He paused, looking back directly at the camera.

“Hmm?”

A few moments passed. Mia gingerly pressed the ‘unlock’ button without another word and waited patiently for her guest to arrive.

She didn’t have to wait long. He was at her door in a few short minutes, looming over the novice lawyer with that typical smug look on his face. He looked her up and down, obviously taken aback by her choice of sleepwear. A wave of insecurity washed over her, which didn’t help when she compared the difference between their current clothing.

Mia held back the urge to slug him.

“Don’t look at me like I’m a piece of meat.”

Diego blinked in confusion, his apparent ignorance causing more rage to build within her.

“It’s not that. You just look…”

“What? What do I look like, Mr. Armando?”

She crossed her arms and glared at him defensively, but was met with softness and pity. His eyes held a tinge of sadness to them that she had never seen before.

“You look… down.”

Mia turned away, embarrassed that her superior could read her so easily.

“I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.”

He hesitantly took a step closer, careful not to cross any more boundaries than he already had. He gently took her face into his palm, smoothing his thumb across her wettened cheek.

“You’ve been crying.”

She responded by wiping her face with one palm ungracefully.

“Like I said. I’m fine. Just a little tired, is all.”

Not wanting to meet his gaze, her eyes drifted to the floor in an uncharacteristic display of meekness.

“Come on now, kitten. This isn’t like you. Something’s on your mind and I gotta hunch it’s got nothin’ to do with the case.”

Damn. He read her like a book. Realizing there was no use denying it any longer, she gestured to her leather couch and barked an order.

“Sit.”

Without waiting to hear his response, Mia marched to the kitchen. He slipped off his loafers and plopped himself near the armrest. A variety of bumps and clangs could be heard as she rummaged through her cabinets in search of something. He detected running water. The clink of glass. Within a few minutes, an aroma of Italian press floated across the room and onto the couch where Diego sat. The darkest roast of all. She knew him so well.

Perhaps that’s why he liked her so much.

Mia returned promptly, coffee mug in hand and free of any additions Diego would consider abominable. She sat about a foot away, putting a noticeable amount of distance between them.

He clutched the mug in his hands and took a few large gulps before speaking.

“Talk to me, kitten. What’s going on?”

Mia sat cross-legged, her arms folded and resting in her lap. She made small circles with her ankle, back and forth as if stretching the tendons.

“Don’t you dare tell a soul or I swear I’ll kill you.”

“Easy, easy. Put those claws away. You know me better than that.”

His subordinate sighed and bit her lower lip.

“It’s... I’m lonely, Diego.”

Not the answer he had expected to hear. Nor the name he was usually called. His mouth dropped open slightly in surprise, but he decided against addressing that fact… for now.

“Everyone gets lonely. Unfortunately it comes with the job.”

“I know.”

Nice going, asshole, He thought to himself. Better try again. He wasn’t the type to let a woman down, especially not Mia.

“Kitten. Come here.”

She stared at him in confusion, startled by his sudden request.

“… What?”

“Come. I want to hold you.”

His last statement hung in the air. Mia fell silent for a few seconds too long. Shit, maybe he messed up. Time to backtrack.

“If you don’t want to I understand,” He said reassuringly, careful to keep his tone even and smooth. “I’m not gonna force ya. I’ll leave and we don’t have to talk about this ever-”

He didn’t get to finish his sentence. She moved quickly and quietly and was in his arms sooner than he could have ever hoped. Her back pressed against his chest, slightly timid but with a hint of eagerness. She didn’t say a word; the silence allowed him to listen to her nervous, staggered breathing. He slowly wrapped his arms around her waist. Pulling her in closer. Burying his face in her freshly shampooed hair. It smelled like roses. Fitting for someone like Mia.

They laid there for some time as the night ticked on. He pulled her chestnut hair behind her ear and kissed it tenderly. His lips pursed as he gave her small pecks on the back of her head, at the base of her skull, moving towards her jawline. She twitched at the light caresses but didn’t protest. Soon, he found his hands moving up and down her sides, tracing random patterns through the fabric of her T shirt.

She squirmed a little. Muffled noises that sounded like weak coughs. He smirked, unbeknownst to her, adding a little more pressure to her stomach and sides. Her wiggling became a lot more pronounced, the noises a little more recognizable as giggles.

“Ticklish, kitten?” He asked, already knowing the answer.

“No… not at a-haaa-ll!”

He pinched her lower ribs and relished when she squeaked, proving his claim true.

“Is that so?”

His tanned, calloused hands kept up their ministrations, his touches getting more purposeful and teasy. He softly clawed her midsection and focused on a patch of extra sensitive skin he had just discovered right below her belly button. Mia jerked her knees upward and clamped her hands on his, a weak attempt to fight off the tickling. The lack of touch in her life had made her more reactive than usual, and she was not happy about it.

“Diego! – ahahahaha! – WHYYYY!”

His response was more light clawing at her sides. She bucked and twisted left to right, laughing joyfully as if he’d told the funniest joke she’d ever heard. He clung onto her, never letting go no matter how violent her struggles got. His fingers drifted upward, settling in her crevices of her underarms and scritching away at them endlessly. Mia howled in a high-pitched tone and jolted her arms down, which only trapped his hands in place and made escape impossible.

“AHAHAHAHAHAHA – oh nooooo! – Diego! – EEEEEEK!”

“The little kitten is so ticklish. How adorable.”

She could only giggle in response.

He kept it up for awhile longer, inwardly promising to stop if Mia asked, but surprisingly she never did. She thrashed and kicked and fought wildly, but never once did the word “stop” leave her lips. However, he had enough experience to know when a woman had had enough, and when her face was crimson red and her breathing shallow he let up and allowed his poor subordinate to collect herself. She took in large gulps of air and laid limp in his embrace.

“Haaa… haa… what was… that for…”

“My own amusement, mostly. Doesn’t hurt that you’ve got a killer laugh, too.”

Mia turned around with an exasperated (but affectionate) expression.

“You know, that was highly inappropriate.”

“So was inviting your colleague into your private abode after midnight.”

“You- you-!”

Rage spread across her face but melted into a smile as he clamped his hands around her ribcage, digging in a little more than before and reigniting her hysterical cackles. Too weak to fight, she succumbed to the tickles and buried her face in his chest until he once again showed her mercy.

“Quit hiding, kitten. Let me see that flustered face of yours one more time.”

He gently coaxed her out of hiding by placing a single finger under her chin and pulling upwards. Their eyes met, and for once Diego Armando was speechless. Seeing the stoic Mia Fey with such vulnerability and affection in her eyes was enough to turn him to putty. If he had the ability to speak, he would have been nothing but a babbling mess.

She leaned in closer, slow as honey that dripped from the comb, until their lips met in a cautious kiss.

Neither one knew how long they stayed like that. Mia draped over his chest. Diego’s hands rested on her lower back. When they finally pulled away, both felt warm and giddy.

“Mia…” he managed to croak out.

“Sorry.”

She seemed out of it. Not regretful, but definitely embarrassed. He half smiled in amusement.

“Don’t be.”

She shifted a little. A question sat on the edge of her mouth, and he waited patiently for it to fall. She rested her lips against his shirt and mumbled.

“Will you… st… ere… ight…?”

“Hmm? Speak up kitten, can’t hear ya.”

He heard her. But he wanted to hear it again. It took everything in him not to grin like an idiot, and everything in her not to smack him.

She lifted her head and scowled.

“Will you stay. Here. The night.”

He kissed her on the forehead and broke out in a victorious smile.

“Of course. Anything for you, kitten.”