#notsmut

[littlegodzilla]

That awkward moment when you met Norman Reedus. NormanxFemReader 3/6

Hi!!

I come here too with the 3 part of this mini series.

I hope you like it!!

Enjoy it!!

That awkward moment when you met Norman Reedus. 3/6

Norman Reedus (45) Reader (29)

’Request’ from @srhxpci : They work together, they became friends, and then lovers, there’s a gap age and I add a little smut (sorry I can’t not do that).

Warning this chapter; No Smut (yet) Nerves. Doubts. Father-son talk. Feelings. Nakedness. Memories. Norman POV.

Summary: You were part of the cast of the series, but your first meeting with Norman didn’t go too well, now after many years, you can say that you are very good friends. Norman wants to invite you to his own show, why not? it will be fun!

N/A: Non canon of the TV show.

taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @pncnsc @lilythemadqueen @purple-serenity @darylsgirl @ruinedbythehobbit

3. Memories.

He opens his eyes before the sun begins to enter through the curtain of the room. He lets out a long sigh, brushing several strands of hair out of his eyes as he rubs them, trying to wake up completely.

He lazily gets out of bed, shuffling his feet a bit as he picks up his cell phone and pack of cigarettes. He catches one of the cigarettes between his lips, the lighter illuminating his face for a few seconds as he inhales the smoke holding it in his lungs before slowly rolling it between his lips and sitting down at the living room table. He drums on the wood with his fingers, his eyes fixed on his cell phone, the hand holding his cigarette resting on his cheek. Lost in thought.

His fingers brush the screen of the device before unlocking it and searching the address book. He sucks back the smoke from his cigarette and stubs it out in the ashtray blowing the smoke out his nose like a sleeping dragon. The dial tone rings several times before he hears a sleepy voice on the other end.

"Dad?" The question echoes in the empty room as he activates the handsfree.

"Hi, Mingus...sorry if I woke you." He tells him sincerely, his fingers moving nervously across the surface of the table.

"No, it's okay, has something happened?" there's concern in his voice and Norman can't help but smile. "Do you want me to call Mom?"

"No, no, let your mother rest, I..." He is quiet for a moment and chews on his lower lip. "I needed to talk to someone." He confesses, Mingus on the other end of the line is still surprised, but tries to clear his mind completely.

"Okay... What do you need? what can I do?"

"Just... you know I'm going on a trip." Norman tells his son about the plan he has with you for his program.

"Yeah, I know, we've talked about it before, what's up?"

"I'm... God, I'm nervous as hell." He hones in and a nervous laugh escapes him.

"Come on, Dad, you've known her for a long time, you don't have to act any different than normal around her." He tries to encourage him and Norman nods even though the boy can't see him. He's about to reach for another cigarette, but holds back, placing it to his ear.

"I don't want to... fuck it up, you know? We're good friends, my intention isn't to take advantage of this trip, but..."

"Did you really call me for advice?" Mingus is still surprised by his father's words and Norman suddenly feels stupid.

"I'm sorry, I know you're just a kid, but I needed to talk to someone...say it out loud." His fingers brush the cigarrete in his ear again.

"No, let's see, I'm 22, I can give you advice on this, if you want, and I don't mind you calling me, I...I like that you trust me on this." He's assured by Mingus on the other end and Norman feels a little better, like he's not wasting his son's time.

"Sure, I'll take my chances." He laughs softly. "Tell me, what's your advice?"

"Well, I think..."

"Norman?" a female voice is heard from the living room door that cuts off both men's conversation.

Norman turns to see a pretty, slender woman leaning against the door frame completely naked, she has her arms crossed enhancing her chest, wanting to tease the man.

"What are you doing here?"

"Excuse me, I needed to talk to my son." he says pointing to the phone.

"Hello." Mingus' voice echoes in the living room and the woman unconsciously hides making Norman laugh.

"He can't see you, relax."

"Why don't you talk to him another time and go back to bed?" She offers him with a sly smile.

"Ugh, I don't want to hear this..." Mingus' voice rings through the house again.

"No, easy." Norman looks at the time on the clock. "I'm sorry, gorgeous, but I can't, I have a flight in three hours and I have to leave for the airport."

"What?" She looks at him dumbfounded.

"Have you booked the flight already?"

"Yes, I want to go see her and meet her family. Without the cameras, you know, they're simple people, I don't want her to feel uncomfortable or think I'm making fun of her." He shrugs.

"Are you talking about another... woman?" the girl standing there in front of him is surprised.

"Yeah, she's... she's a co-worker. Hey, if you want I can fix you some breakfast and give you a ride home before I go..." He offers, trying to be nice.

"Screw you, Norman, you're a dick." She says annoyed going back into the room to get dressed and slam the door out of the house.

"Okay, I don't think it was a good idea to talk about this in front of her." Mingus comments after a few seconds in silence. "Maybe you could have lied to her or hung up on me."

"I tried to be nice, I could have just told her to fuck off and that's it... I mean." He rubs his hair trying to find the words. "Do you really think I'm a dick?"

"For being a single guy who sleeps with a chick and then goes to go see another one he likes, but they're not a couple so he doesn't have to explain himself to her because she's probably doing the same thing?" There was a certain irony in his voice and Norman snorts rolling his eyes.

"You know, I'm going to have a serious talk with your mother, you've got a lot of nerve." The two men laugh at the same time, Norman feels a little better, to be honest. "Well, I think I have to hang up now kiddo, I have to shower and go get a plane." He says getting up from the table leaving the cigar on the table.

"Sure, dad, let me know anything, okay? Call me when you get there or text me." He asks and smiles looking at the phone.

"Don't worry, champ, I'll see you around." He says goodbye to Mingus hanging up the call. He brushes his bangs out of his eyes and walks to the bathroom to take a shower. He has to pack at least one carry-on bag before he leaves.

Showering he remembers the first time he introduced you to Mingus. It was nothing planned, actually it was a surprise for the three of you, as it was the first time you met in New York after a couple of seasons with the show.

Flash Back.

Norman had gone to pick up Mingus for a father and son day. Their relationship was good, they always had each other when they had some free time, but they were busy men, Mingus was finishing his studies and was starting to be important in the fashion world, something Norman didn't mind as long as it was what he liked, and his father was busy with the series, the documentary program and his own personal projects, but luckily that week he had some free days so he planned to spend them with his son. They would buy a few things, walk around their favorite areas of New York and then have a bite to eat and talk about things. He had realized that one of the things I could do most with Mingus without feeling too much of an idiot was just that, talk. It didn't matter what exactly, but they could spend hours, sometimes Mingus needed to disconnect from his own world, talk about everything and nothing at the same time, just letting off steam, to which Norman listened attentively, without saying anything, because that was not what the young man needed, other times it was a discussion between them, sharing opinions, laughing and sometimes Norman even had to pass his feet with some things because we have all had that feeling that everyone hates us but in reality it is just another stage to overcome in our lives.

Norman talked more about work, not because he had nothing else to talk about, but because it was what occupied his time the most. Sometimes talking about work would lead directly to talking about you, how you were resolving yourself on the set, how your character was evolving from season to season. You'd only been with them for two seasons, but you could see significant changes in your character. He wasn't aware, but sometimes his words rambled too much about you and Mingus listened with a small smile.

"Do you like her?" He would ask his father in surprise.

"I don't know." It was the answer he always gave him, and the most sincere.

When the subject drifted that way, Norman would try to change the subject because he himself didn't know what he wanted, not then, even now there were times when he had doubts whether he really wanted to risk your friendship for something he didn't dare name.

That morning Norman changed the subject by showing him several photos he had taken on the set, it wouldn't be long before he had a new exhibition and he wanted to include them in it. Mingus looked at them curiously, he liked his father's view of life.

"Is that your partner?" He asked then and Norman frowned looking at the photo, confused.

"Where?" the photo had Andrew and Scott in it with him, but perhaps from behind he had caught you unaware.

"Not there, there." He laughed pointing over his father's shoulder. Norman turned following the trajectory of his finger.

On the sidewalk across the street from where they had stopped for coffee for breakfast was a small neighborhood market, with a few stores pulled out into the street to sell their produce and there you were, next to a greengrocer's shop talking to the woman in charge of the stand, holding a tomato in your hand, smelling it enjoying its earthy, country smell, which hadn't been taken from a camera or a greenhouse that just smelled and tasted like plastic. You were a country girl, you liked the simple things, you enjoyed the little things and Norman learned a little from you to tell those kinds of things apart.

"Let's go say hello to her." He heard Mingus' voice next to him, bringing him back to reality.

"What? No, wait Mingus." He tried to stop his son, but he had already paid for the coffees and stood up from his chair, heading straight for you.

Norman got up like a spring going after his son, Mingus waited for him to catch up and when he got to your side he pushed Norman a bit who bumped into you, his father looked at him frowning and the blond looked at him apologetically, he didn't intend a rough encounter, but he hadn't thought of anything better.

"Sorry." He apologized to you and you looked at him surprised and excited, it had been almost a month since you two had seen each other because of the end of season hiatus.

"Norman! It's good to see you." You smiled and hugged him letting the man squeeze you tightly.

"Me too, I didn't know you lived around here."

"I just got back a little while ago." You explained and Norman touched his son's shoulder.

"Look, this is my son, Mingus." He introduced you and you smiled again squeezing the teenager's hand affectionately.

"My father has told me a lot about you." He said and you felt your cheeks redden.

"Oh yeah?"

"I talk about everyone." He inserted himself into the conversation so it wouldn't get awkward.

"Let's go for a walk and do some shopping, do you want to come with us?" Mingus offered surprising you and his own father.

Norman never knew for sure why that day Mingus offered you to accompany them, maybe he did it out of kindness, to make his father uncomfortable, maybe he wanted to fill in for himself information that Norman hadn't been able to give him or had been curious about you as a teenager. Something he would later make clear to you with a blunt:

"I can find a girl all by myself, Dad."

And Norman didn't doubt that.

End Flash Back.

He steps out of the shower feeling his skin burning from the high temperature at which he has let the water run over his entire body to completely clear his head. He shakes his head to get the excess water out of his hair before stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. In the bedroom he pulls out several pairs of pants and t-shirts, his most comfortable boots and a motorcycle jumpsuit and helmet. He stuffs all that into the travel suitcase, the rest of his clothes and a few things like his laptop, camera, sunglasses, some spare clothes to have on hand and some hats that he keeps in the backpack that he will take with him on the plane. He hesitates for a few seconds, he doesn't want to look like he's prepared to see you, he wants to be casual, normal, it's not the first time you share a ride or are together off set, but he feels nervous. Finally he grabs one of his T-shirts with the advertising of his program, some jeans and his boots. A meow makes him smile as he sees Eye in the Dark watching him lying on the bed, purring very softly. That reminds him to leave a small envelope of money with his son's name on it. He always takes his furry friend with him, but he's getting older and the long trips are testing his nerves and his health and Norman doesn't want to risk that something might happen to him, so he lets Mingus take care of the animal while he's gone. He strokes its head and the cat purrs a little louder, closing its big greenish eyes.

Flash Back.

Norman opened the door to his apartment dragging a huge suitcase. He was exhausted but he still couldn't relax, in a few hours he had an interview to comment on the episode that premiered that night and he had just enough time to take a shower and eat something. Right behind him you appeared with a suitcase similar in size to his, with the same tired gesture plastered on your face.

"I hate running back and forth..." you protested, carefully closing the door behind your back.

"You should be used to it, this isn't the first convention you've been to." He scoffed a little from somewhere on the wide floor.

"I know..." You muttered rolling your eyes. You'd never end up getting used to conventions, the presentations, the signings, the programs... It was something that just wasn't meant for you. "Oh my God, Norman, you have a cat!" You exclaimed with excitement upon discovering a cute black cat lying on the couch.

"Yes, technically it's my son's, but yes, I have a cat." His voice echoed through the floor again as he walked back towards the living room. "Be careful, he's a little surly around strangers and don't..." He fell silent in the doorway of the living room as he discovered you kneeling on the floor, half your body lying on the couch cushions with one hand outstretched towards the cat, but giving the animal its space to decide to approach or ignore you. Eye in the Dark had gotten up from his spot and sniffed your fingers resting his head against your hand, purring low. You looked up at Norman biting your lip, your face brimming with excitement. Norman smiled at that. "Wow, I wasn't expecting that." He said sincerely.

"He has chosen me." You whispered in fear that your voice might disturb him. "He's beautiful, and very gentle."

"Yes, he's a spoiled cat." He agreed and laughed. "I'm going to take a shower and order something to eat before we go. Just as if you were at home." He offered. "The kitchen is over there." He pointed. "And if you want you can take a shower when I'm done."

"Okay, thanks." You smiled gratefully without stopping petting the cat behind the ears.

For Norman it wasn't the first, it wouldn't be the last time he invited a co-worker to his home, you had overlapped on the flight home from a convention in Europe and you both had to be on the show that night, so he offered you his apartment which was closer so you could get ready there and then leave together for the interview. It seemed a little strange to you at first, since you had met that day he was with his son, it had become a little routine to go out together sometimes in the city, but that was his home, his intimacy, but it seemed to come so naturally from him that you couldn't refuse.

End Flash Back.

"Be good, furry." He says to Dark patting his head before adjusting the travel backpack on his arm. "See you in a couple of weeks." He promises him and leaves the house making sure he has everything important with him.

He hails a cab to take him to the airport and there he has to make an effort to be nice to people and get to the boarding of his flight on time. By showering and packing his bags he has had less than an hour to get everything ready before boarding the plane. He takes several pictures with some fans, smiles, signs blank papers and then says goodbye to everyone running towards the gate that takes him to his new destination. He breathes a little easier when his butt touches the seat of the plane and he closes his eyes rubbing them with some nervousness. He takes off his glasses and cap for a few seconds when the stewardess comes over to make sure he's okay. He asks her for a coffee and something light to eat and the woman walks away leaving him alone with his music and things. The seat next to him is empty and he smiles stretching a little, at least he can rest easy if he needs to.

It's funny how easily his mind wanders through all the memories he has with you. The first time you flew together discovering your great panic of heights and enclosed places.

Flash back.

He was watching you from his seat. You hadn't been on the show too long, neither of you had much more than a cordial greeting when you saw each other, kindness when it was your turn to work together and again when you said goodbye. It was all the interaction you were having that season, you were new and to top it off your first meeting was not the most pleasant, yet you have to travel to the presentation of the new season, the time of conventions, interviews, promotional events of the series arrives. And you looked like you were about to vomit. You weren't all going together, you didn't coincide neither in city nor in schedules, however Norman saw you getting on the plane, being a few seats ahead of where he was sitting. He wasn't sure if you had seen him or ignored him on purpose, but it was obvious that you were not comfortable. There was still time for the boarding gate to close and the plane to take off, he didn't have to butt in where he didn't belong, but he couldn't help himself. He unbuckled his seat belt getting up from his seat to walk over to yours.

"Hey, hi." He greeted you startling you a little, your eyes going wide when you realized who it was.

"Norman, h-hello." You stammered not expecting him to be there.

"Are you okay?" he asked with a worried smile and you reddened. "You don't look so good..."

"No, I..." You stammered not quite knowing what to answer. "I'm just a little nervous, that's all..."

"Are you sure?" You looked around and approached one of the stewardesses who were at the gate greeting travelers. It wasn't information they had, but Norman managed to get the seat next to his free and walked back to you. "Would you like to sit with me? Maybe a little conversation will help." He offered, gesturing with his head to a few seats further back.

"But...what if that seat is taken?" You hesitated looking at him not understanding his invitation.

"Don't worry, I've asked them to take your seat." He explained taking your hand. "Come on, I don't think the plane won't take long to take off and I can't be here in the middle." He insisted and you nodded nervously, unbuckling your seatbelt in a rush before following your fellow passenger to the seats further back.

Norman took his seat again, buckling up, you sat gingerly next to him. The nice thing about traveling in first class was the comfort of the seats, much more spacious, comfortable and almost individual so you could sleep if you needed to. You had never been able to make that choice, too tense to close your eyes and sleep. You glanced sideways at Norman who was fiddling with his cell phone while chewing on his lower lip. Maybe he wasn't sure what conversation he wanted to have with you either, maybe he had just been trying to be nice, but now he didn't know how to make conversation.

The boarding door closed then, your body tensed up much more, if that was possible, and Norman understood what was happening. You weren't nervous or anxious about the convention, you were scared to fly. You were scared of flying. Which was a bummer since it was practically day to day life, but Norman couldn't blame you. The flight attendant began to give the pre-flight instructions, Norman put the phone in his pocket and tapped your hand that gripped the armrest so tightly that your knuckles were white knuckled. You looked at him for a second to fix your eyes on the stewardess again, but then turned to pay attention to him.

"Hey... I know you're not a kid, but... I have a little trick I used on my son when he was a kid and had the occasional panic attack." He explained feeling a little uncomfortable about telling you that. "If you want..."

"I don't want to bother you..."

"I'd rather you bother me than have us end up full of vomit." He assured you and you sighed lowering your gaze. "Come, when you feel more comfortable just let me know."

You hesitated for a second, not quite sure what Norman wanted to do, you leaned back towards his seat and he covered your ears as he rested your head on his chest. You open your eyes wide, the position not exactly comfortable for either of you, but feeling his hands on your ears, muffling the sound of the engines starting, oddly enough, calms your being a little. Your hands twitch on his chest as the plane begins to accelerate into flight, but Norman's heartbeat is calm, leisurely, a gentle boom-boom that rocks you until the plane is fully airborne and your stomach no longer has that giddy feeling. Carefully, very slowly, you separate from him, both of you looking away, uncomfortable with the situation.

"Th-Thank you..." you whisper feeling much calmer than you expected.

"It was nothing... it's a bitch when we get blocked like that." He tried to understand you and you nodded your head.

"Yeah, because... well I like airplanes, but the first time I got on one... it wasn't exactly what I expected..."

You told it as an anecdote seeing that he nodded his head understanding what you meant, you were silent for a few seconds again, but then curiously the conversation flowed smoothly.

End Flash Back.

Norman wakes up after several hours of travel, the change in altitude has caused a ringing in his ears and that has woken him up. He yawns stretching in his seat and adjusts his cap and glasses before getting up to grab his backpack. He's not there yet, he has a car waiting for him and from there he has several more hours to get to your house. The company that rented him the car assured him that the route would be on the map in the car and that he would have no problem following it. Norman really hoped he wouldn't get lost. He had never been too bad at finding his way around, perhaps that was the only trait he had in common with his character Daryl Dixon. He gets off the plane, picks up his suitcase and walks out of the airport feeling the warm atmosphere of the city suffocate him for a second. There is a man waiting for him with a sign with his name on it. They understand each other although the man's English is not very good, but it is enough for Norman to understand that this is his car, that everything is organized so that he arrives at his destination without problems, that the deposit is full and that when he returns there will be when they make the payment for the rental days. Norman nods giving him an advance for the inconvenience and takes the keys, puts the suitcase in the trunk, leaves the backpack on the passenger seat and sets off on his way.

The trip from the capital to your parents' house is marked on the map and you still have several hours to travel. You have stopped at a service area for a coffee and a bite to eat. Some people have recognized him by taking pictures with him, asking him where he is going and what he is doing out there by himself. Norman hasn't answered too much, he's just on a trip, spending a few days away from the hustle and bustle of the city. He's back in the car and on his way.

It's a little over half a day when he arrives in your hometown, of course the landscape has changed completely since he has left the highway to go there. You let yourself be guided to a parking lot and get out of the car looking around. The heat is not too oppressive, in fact there is a very uncomfortable air that forces you to hold on to your cap so that it doesn't fly off. His head is up all the time contemplating the main square of the town, with the huge church, the town hall, the cobblestone floor, the bars sheltered inside some old arched porches. People have their routine, oblivious to the newcomer. Norman smiles, looking around once more before returning to the car for his backpack and pulling out his camera to take a few shots of the back of the church, right where he parked.

He knows exactly where he needs to go, though he doesn't know how to find it. You told him once that your sister's store was in the center of town, so he shouldn't get lost if he starts his search from where he is. He walks down the slope from the church to the square and approaches one of the bars, a waiter is fixing one of the tables that has just been vacated and he approaches him to ask about your sister's store. He tells you to continue just down the street from the corner of his bar, you will find another square and there it is. Norman nods his thanks for the directions and walks down the pedestrian street. There are stores on both sides, clothes, toys, a travel agency, other bars and even a barbershop. He stops for a second in front of a jewelry store attracted like a ferret by something shiny. He has to admit that there the prices of some items are much more affordable. He continues his way to the square where the waiter has indicated him discovering in its center a nice sculpture of a couple, the boy is lifting the young woman with his arms. He goes back a few steps looking for the angle and takes a couple of pictures. His eyes then catch the name of your sister's store and his hands sweat, but he can't back up, he's already there. He hangs the camera around his neck and moves forward, through the huge decorated window he spots you and another young woman, who he assumes is your older sister, sitting at the counter, talking animatedly. He smiles and opens the door. A tinkling of a soft bell welcomes him. You have your back to him, the first to see him is your sister and his eyes widen as he removes his glasses and places them on top of her cap.

"Finally I found you." He says feigning an exhausted tone and you turn around like a spring.

"Norman!"

To be Continued...

I hope you liked it!

I see you in the next chapter!

Sorry for my English, it isn't my first language!

[joanofdescension]

Love : The Bridge Between Worlds - Chapter 5 : Vote 44 For President 2024 (on Wattpad) https://www.wattpad.com/1260350451-love-the-bridge-between-worlds-chapter-5-vote-44?utm_source=web&utm_medium=tumblr&utm_content=share_reading&wp_uname=EzequielBasically&wp_originator=57ui8OP%2B9wRGI21uv%2BbNQZ25uTciCANqXOo4%2BxcxqbTzkcJldTVgj5LtQUPnJ40NzYdswuszMNlpUDaX2Kb7QA7TxKCVCT7HMiNBAfPd11yc9704Bfux%2B6oRWDMepAJn When universes collide and people intertwine , a beautiful romance between a workaholic and a tumblr sexy man demon comes alive . . . 💤

[theundergrounddrabbles]

NakoMiku

Miku: See what I can do.

 Nako: Whoa you can stick the whole popsicle in your mouth.

 Miku: Can you?

 Nako: I’ll try

 Miku: Do it carefully…

 Nako: Okay…

 Miku: Almost there… Yes!

 Nako: It’s hard towards the end and the tip hits your throat.

 Miku: relaxing the tongue helps… Nacchan said so.

 Madoka: You’re teaching them that trick…

 Natsu: Miku was curious because I can do it with ease.

 Madoka: Sasshi…

 Natsu: Don’t break Nako’s heart… she still thinks it isn’t true.

 Madoka: She said it was small…

 Aoi: Ah whatcha guys talking about? Are they having that contest?

 Natsu: Yeah… it wasn’t my idea though.

 Madoka: It was your idea to teach them to do something lewd.

 :Natsu cackle:

[bangbangkpopfics]

REQUEST DARN U- I’m kidding but do it.

Hi, so I really want to write again but like, my brain sucks at coming up with ideas so that’s whERE THE REQUEST PART HELPSSSS.

So please request. I personally feel confident writing BTS, MONSTA X, EXO, and GOT7. 

GOGOGOGOGOOOGGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGGOOGOGOG- Wait another thing we also can’t write smut because that is a genre for the supreme talented and... yeah. 

OK NOW GGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOGOG

-Admin Mae

[zuriwanders-blog]

Eastern Thanalan. Age 21.

The desert was the ugliest thing Zuri had ever seen.  She stared out at the road, dismayed in a way she couldn't fully explain, and looked back over her shoulder into the thinning trees, the edge of the border of the Twelveswood.  This was Eastern Thanalan, according to what Elder Arhus had told her, and it would be her first stop on her journey into the outside world.  

Zuri had never wanted to see the outside world.  Her home had been all that she'd ever wanted to experience, with all the things she ever could have wanted.  The panic was bubbling up in her chest again, and she planted her feet solidly on the dirt road, breathing in and out, slowly.  She was a hunter of her people.  Crying at something so silly wouldn't behoove her.  She was a representative of her tribe, now.  Even as an exiled member.  

Her lower lip quivered, and she tightened her belly, firming herself against it.

Suva.

Dirt crunched as she took a step forward, and then another.  It was necessary.  She was necessary, even if the trees were forbidden to her now.  Her tribe was small, and quickly outpaced by the rest of the world.  Without someone procuring new and better tools, and technology, to make their own craftswomen more relevant, to help them extract every last bit out of the small allotment of forest's bounty they were allowed, they would be lost.  She knew that.  They weren't farmers.  They wouldn't be absorbed into the larger towns and the scar on the land that was Gridania.  No.  

She resettled her pack and kept walking, numbly absorbing the details of the changing landscape.  She could feel the edges of the forest, feel when she left its shade -- even though there was still some scant trees left.  No, this was no longer part of her home.  It was just...dead things, and dryness, and heat, and dirt.  Lots of dirt.

Eventually she came upon a small settlement beside a bridge.  The wind was picking up, which was a relief; it was hot.  Uncomfortably so: the wide expanse unbroken by anything but small rocks and shrugs was dastardly.  The breadth of it made her skin crawl.  Even as she wandered up to the edge of the cliff and looked down, she couldn't see anything that would give her any reason just why anyone would want to be out there.  Lack of choice?  It looked depressing.  Brown, and dead, and dirty.  Not the good kind of dirty, like the thick loam on the forest floor, but just...dirt dirty.

She grew tired of staring down into the abyss and ambled over to the settlement, where she found a smattering of people.  She'd successfully avoided people thus far, not wanting to talk to outsiders -- a limited luxury, since that would become her new task in life.  Her mother had told her she was still hunting for the tribe, just for different things.  Without being allowed to come home.  Unless she was successful and proved herself, again, then, maybe...

Maybe.

Zuri gritted her teeth and approached one of the groups, assessing each with quick, furtive glances.  She did not think they would attack her, but outsiders were strange, and sometimes fey.  Plus, Zuri would not be surprised to learn that being out under so much sun in so much open space had made them crazed.

There were three of them.  They stood  far distant from each other, at least a fulm, so Zuri wondered how they could really understand what each other had to say.  None of them looked at her as she approached, or questioned her right to walk there, or even seemed curious about who she was and why she stood there, slowly coming closer.  They were strange.  She knew what they must be, by their physical aspects: the tiny one was of the small folk.  The one with the hideously rounded ears and stature near her own was likely one of the midlander folk.  The last another of the midlander.  Their clothing was plain, but to her eye finely, finely woven.  Amazingly so, surpassing anything like what her people wore.

Her fingers itched to touch it, but as she closed in on them she finally attracted their attention: three fulms, two, and there was plain hostility in their gazes, and in the raised voice of the midlander woman.

"Can I help you?"  Sharp.  High.  Sneering.

Zuri nodded, curiosity in the curve of her shoulders and the upward tilt of her chin, fingers spreading wide in entreaty as she reached to touch the woman's sleeve.

Her hand was slapped away.

"Excuse you!" The woman said.

Zuri tipped her head to the side, ears folding back in uncertainty.  Excuse her?  What was she being excused for?  She held her hand to her chest, wondering if perhaps she had missed a nonverbal greeting-statement.  She leaned in, to touch shoulders with the woman, and this time was given a harsh shove.

Even with the weight on her back from her pack and her bow, she didn't stumble.  She did take a step or two back.  Perhaps she was to touch foreheads?  She made an apologetic grimace, and stepped in again.

"Whoa," the midlander man said, even as the woman said in sharp and strident tones: "back off!"

"It's one of the forest savages from the Shroud," the small one said, his eyes full of something sharp enough to cut.

Zuri reached out again, in apology, and the  woman backed up behind the other midlander male.  "Gods," she said. "Make it go away."

"What is it you want?" He asked.

"Looking for handouts, or to sell some ratty hides, I've no doubt," the small one yet sneered.

Zuri frowned at him and made a dismissive gesture.  "I don't know your greeting."

"What did it say?" The woman asked.

"I think she said hello."

"What do you want?"  The midlander male had puffed his chest out, standing before the female as if protecting a babe.  Perhaps the woman was sick, and that was why she was hiding.

Zuri stepped back, not wanting to catch the illness.  "This is Camp Drybone?"

The small one laughed.  "Camp Drybone?  Hardly.  You've more distance to cover.  That way."  He pointed  westward.

Zuri turned her eyes to follow the ribbon of road until it disappeared into the distance, over a small dip in the land.  She could make something out in the distance that was, perhaps, a town.  Or a bit of funny shaped rock.  She wouldn't put it past the desert to be shaped oddly.

"There?" She asked, pointing.

"'Swhat I said, isn't it?"

She considered asking for a guide, and then considered them, and their attitude.  She couldn't blame them; if she had met them within her own territory she'd be like as not tempted to put arrows in them.  But they, despite their obvious scorn and mistrust, didn't pull weapons on her.  Perhaps this was a trading post, then. Perhaps they were stupid and slow, like the farmed animals in the Gridanian villages.

Perhaps this was life now, and she should get used to it.

She shouldered her pack, nodded to them, and started walking.  She learned two things on that long, dusty walk to Camp Drybone.  One, she needed to carry much more water for the trip; and two, that the sun really was her worst enemy.  She'd been dehydrated before, but never quite enough to push a headache from oppressive to dizzying.  There was no water, anywhere, and as she stumbled into the camp (it should have been called Village Drybone, or Town Drybone; camp it was not), she could have kissed  a talisman to the Old Ones in thanks.

She didn't feel that way for long.

There were too many people, to start.  The sun was following its descent down, which was the only good thing about the place.  The mix of people seemed so foul compared to what she'd seen before.  Some wore fine garments, others poor.  And so many scents!  It nose-blinded her, made her eyes water up with the various unfamiliar stenches.  Chocobo, under it all, combined with body odor, refuse, odd spices, food, waste, and something almost dusty and stale.  

There was too much talk.  It was hard to keep track of, as she slowly wandered in, catching snatches and snippets, each person more guarded and sneering than the last.  Out of this tangle of flesh she was supposed to find a single person, some hyur, in and amongst the rising walls and cut off buildings that felt like suffocation writ large.

Zuri lasted a quarter bell.  She asked a total of four people directions to the person she'd been instructed to find, and had been met with hostility in a variety of forms, or else questions she didn't have the answers to.  Before she knew it she was up above the camp, looking down into it, fingers rustling through the arrows in the quiver at her hip.  Thinking.  Watching.  Feeling the sun beat on her, feeling her headache growing worse, smelling all the awful things...

Before she knew it, she was dizzy and leaning heavily against a rock, panting.

Before she knew it, she'd passed out.

Never had Zuri truly considered herself to be a stupid individual, or especially lacking in common sense.  And yet, when she awoke feeling as if a creature had crawled into her ear and now attempted to claw its way out from within her skull and out through her eyes, she realized how stupid she'd been.

The sun had dried her out.  She'd let it dry her out, despite advance warnings, despite the powerful thirst and dryness she'd felt.

Grimacing, she let it go as she pushed herself towards wakefulness.  She lay on something soft, in a cool, dark room.  Gods bless for that, even though opening her eyes was difficult.

"You must be Zuri," a man said, his voice terribly grave, a distant rumble around the edges not unlike thunder.

She managed to crack her eyes open into slits, and groaned for her effort.

"Here," he said, something pressed against the back of one of her clenched hands.

She sniffed, and smelled something like an elder's concoction.  Sniffed again, and smelled too much about the man, the room, and knew she was still in Camp Drybone.

The cup held a tonic, one she knew, and she fumbled it into her hands and drained it.  She was already incapacitated, and if he'd wanted her dead, it would've been easy enough.  After that, he pressed a cup of water into her hands, and then another, until she could drink no more and refused the next.

She curled up into a little ball, while the man sat there, unspeaking and patient, and sought out sleep once more.  The pain in her head was too much for anything else.

The next time she awoke, he wasn't there, and she had a raging need to void her bladder.  A quick search found a heavy, lidded pot that smelled of previous uses, and she used it.

The room was incredibly quiet.

It was also incredibly empty.  There was a pitcher of water -- which she drank -- her pack and hunting items, the bed she'd slept on, and other things she knew the city-goers used.  She hated it.  She hated the closed in walls, the overlapping smells, and most of all its emptiness.  Her ears near rang with the silence, her head filled with the sound of her own breath and her own thoughts, devoid of nearby chatter and children and any number of necessary things.

It was just empty.

Everything was just empty, now.

A faint reprise of her earlier pain built behind her forehead, and she forced herself to take a deep breath, stepping towards the door; she'd rather face the Camp than spend more time in the mausoleum that was the room she'd been placed in.

Suva.

She opened the door, and stepped out to meet the man it was her duty to find.

That was all that she had left.

It was all she was, now.

[zuriwanders-blog]

Twelveswood.  Age 14.

It was time.

Zuri stood in a circle before the bonfire, ringed by tribeswomen.   Suva was beside her, tall and regal and strong.  Zuri vibrated with her excitement, striving with all her might to maintain sobriety as her mother stepped before her.  She held the huntsday bowl in hand: a heavy thing, carved of some dense and unknown wood, embellished with tiny miqo'te women wielding lance and bow.  Time had worn some of it away, despite loving care.

Its insides were stained dark with pigment, from (as the legends went) centuries of use during huntsday ceremonies.  In the darkness of night, Zuri couldn't really differentiate between the colors; the firelight tainted everything with a warm glow.  Not that it mattered, but it was the first time she'd gotten to see the bowl up close.

Today, she'd become an adult.

She was ready.  Her confidence in her training, in her applied skills, was strong; even so, nervousness and fear chewed at the edges of her excitement.  The weight of centuries of tradition, of trials, of ceremony settled across her shoulders as Suva's mother stepped up alongside her own, dipping her fingers into the bowl and drawing the huntsign upon Suva's face: a mark unique to heritage and family, passed down from mother to daughter in an unbroken line.

Too much time and too little passed at once before Zuri's mother gave over the bowl to Suva's mother, and dipped her fingers in to paint her own mark upon Zuri's face.  She stared at her mother's face as she worked, feeling the love and care and satisfaction and happiness with each mark laid upon her face.  Her mother took joy in her, and it filled her near to bursting.  It was so hard to stay still, so hard to not dash for her bow and run into the trees whooping and hollering and whistling her joy to Menphina and Her moon.

By dint of will alone, she stood still, nostrils flaring with her excitement.  Zuri's mother put the bowl down before the fire, and Zuri and Suva sat across from it.  They would be huntpartners, now, a bonded duo who would rely upon each other when they went deep into the wild places to test their luck against bigger and more ferocious game.  It was necessary to the tribe's survival; legends went that once, when game was plenty and the Old Ones undisturbed by the tribe's small forays into their lands, there had been no need for huntpartners.  But with the advent of the elezen and Gridania, everything had changed.  And now they were being honored, declared strong and skilled enough to take on the mantle of responsibility to feed the tribe

It awed Zuri.

Together, she and Suva dipped their fingers into the bowl, and reached across it to each other.  They painted each other in their practiced marks, marks that would belong to them and them only, perhaps to be passed down to some other deserving pair if their skills were great enough and their legend grew.  The thought of it tingled across Zuri's arms and down her back, chased by a sense of guilty excitement.   It was wrong of her to wish to become legend, it was greedy and selfish, but she couldn't help it.  There was an echo of it in Suva's eyes, as their fingers brushed over each other's skin: flashes of impishness that they shared in secret, buoyed by each other. Suva was amazing.  Zuri was so gladdened and pleased that the elders had seen true, and paired them. 

Around them, their fellow tribeswomen began to chant and beat the drums.  There would be throat singing soon; as Zuri was to begin to prepare herself to leave on a long journey, she would not be allowed to participate.  There was a slight sting at that: she was good at throat singing.  But it was swept away under the tide of her excitement.   Nothing would get her down.  The night belonged to her, and she to it.   Together, she and Suva rose, taking turns painting each others' legs and backs.  They moved faster now, keeping rhythm with the tribe's song. When it, and they, were finished, it all stopped: a singular drum beat carrying it to its close.  Then, the elders approached, bearing the gifts from the tribe's master craftswomen.

"You are unworthy," Elder Icah, the eldest, said.  Suva and Zuri glanced at each other and bowed their heads, holding out their hands.

"You are nothing without your tribe.  You are lost without your sisters and mothers.  You would be empty without your kith and kin."

Together, two of the youngest elders stepped forward, bestowing bows, bow cases, quivers, and arrows: the first possessions that either girl would truly own.

"You will be unworthy to the task at hand.  For you are hunters for the tribe.  Be filled with us, heart and soul, as you take your journey, and know that you will never fully fill the bellies of your tribe."

A third elder brought forward the Elderbowl: simply but expertly wrought of ivory.  The eldest dipped her thumb to it, and pressed it once to Zuri's forehead, and once to Suva's.  If their hunt was successful and accepted by the elders, they would each receive the traditional teardrop between and above their eyebrows to signify their status as contributing adults to the tribe.

"Bellies," the elder continued, voice dry, "are never truly full.   But your hearts and souls will be always filled, for we will always be there.  If you prove yourself fit for the task of the endless hunts for this tribe, you will in turn be found worthy to fill the heart and soul of your tribe.  Then, and always, you will join the huntsong, and be eternal amongst Menphina's stars."

Silence fell, and the drums began anew: the rhythm of hunting.   Zuri and Suva geared up.  Elders brought forward a mash, hot and filling, and spoon fed the two girls.

"This is the last meal you take as children.  This is the last meal you take without giving in return.  When you return, you will feed your tribe."

Rations were brought and packed away as the two girls finished eating, bowing their heads in gratitude.

The huntsong began, and Zuri felt her blood rushing through her, energy racing and causing her to shift her weight side to side in her eagerness.  Beside her, Suva did the same, face a mask of fierce enthusiasm.

"Are you ready, Zuri?"

"Yes, Elder Icah."

"Are you ready, Suva?"

"Yes, Elder Icah."

"You are so bonded.  May you rely upon each other, and your tribe, and return to us with meat, and be found worthy."

Tension hummed, the two girls poised on the brink of something wondrous: a chasm of unknown gaping before them and ready to be explored.  Zuri found Suva's hand, and squeezed, and Suva squeezed hers in return.  The huntsong swelled around them, filling their bones. They waited for the final words, the words that would send them out.  Waited, as Elder Icah made them wait: their last reminder that they were part of something greater, and they did not go out alone.

"Do not stop until you are beyond the sounds of your sisters' voices, until you can no longer feel the drum."

Zuri panted, feeling her body heat with excitement, and the need to move.

"Now, go."

The circle opened, and the two girls bounded out of it, carried along with the boundless energy of youth.

It was the best day of Zuri's life.

[catmansquad]

I don't care if it's gone midnight, I'll post this if I want. ;)

“R'hion had only been in the house for a few moments before he noticed something amiss. There were no lights in the house, the only glow came from the lounge, where the fireplace was aglow with recently lit firewood, gold flames offering light and heat in a cozy atmosphere. The Seeker stepped through confidently, smiling as he found the figure lounging asleep on the sofa. He admired just how the massive, albino Xaela seemed to own the entireity of the sofa with his sheer presence. Perhaps it had once been a sexy surprise, but the lateness of the hour left him asleep with the blanket wrapped around him. 

'Henryk...'

He sighed softly, slipping under the blanket with him. Bright orange eyes opened and blinked sleepily.

'... Surprise?' The Xaela wondered softly. R'hion smiled and snuggled up close, savouring the heat, warmth and solid muscle. 

'Best surprise ever....'”

[laughatlarry-blog]

The Glory of a Rainbow

written by: lostinsanity

Summary: Harry lives in a black and white world. Until he meets Louis.

-------

Pretty much its adorable b/c of its description of finding a soulmate/falling in love.

Read on AO3

[mostlyfalkgert]

Working On A Novel - CHAPTER 8 - See Erin, They Didn't Dingle The Dongle, I'm Not That Bad (They Were So Close Though, Dang Son) (Why Won't You Let Me Write Awful Smut) (Humph)

When you wake up, the first thing you notice is that your neck has the most painful cramp you've ever felt. The second thing you notice is that Gert is drooling on your chest and apparently has been all night. You can't bring yourself to be annoyed about this, because the fact that he's still cuddling you is beautiful. You try to adjust yourself so you can fix the throbbing hell that is your neck, but Gert stirs, groaning before tilting his head, rubbing his eye with one hand and looking up at you. You can tell he's more than a little asleep, still, and smile at him. He wipes drool off his chin, or rather, smears it across his face with his entire arm. He finally sits up and you try to ignore the puddle of saliva that's currently resting on your shirt as you kiss his cheek. "Morning, sleepyhead," you tease as you watch him roll off you and curl back up under the blankets. "Shut up," he mumbles almost incoherently, and you laugh again, climbing out of bed and heading to the bathroom. You take a quick shower and return to the bedroom in a towel, taking a second to admire Gert while he sleeps. You turn back to the mirror and begin combing your hair when you hear a muffled voice behind you. "You shouldn't watch people sleep. It's creepy." You can't help but laugh, watching Gert's reflection in the mirror as you reply. "So you are awake." His response is a groan, and he rolls over, facing away from you. You put down your hairbrush and sit on the edge of the bed beside him, your good mood slowly disappearing as you finally force yourself to suck it up and admit the truth. "Gert? There's something I need to admit to you." He mumbles something too quiet for you to hear, but you continue speaking anyway. "You know all that corporal stuff I rambled about... the whole needing you to marry me thing..." You bite your lip, hesitating for a moment before finally getting it out. "That was a load of shit." You try to keep a pokerface as Gert rolls back over to face you. He isn't shouting like you expected him to, but the look on his face is pretty much saying 'you're trash and I never want anything to do with you, you goddamn piece of shit.' Or something along those lines, anyway. More time than you're comfortable with has passed before he replies. However, all he says is: "Why?" You're having trouble staying cool at this point, but you figure that there's really no point in lying about anything else now. "I lied because... I love you. And I didn't know how to be close to you. The truth is... I just wanted to make you my husband."