#now that all the rain and stuff is gone for a bit with summer moving in - that might raise my mood up and idk.

[dadbots]

Whimsical adventures of (May)hem… and hello, June!

[giveafike]

Hi can you write Elliot euphoria and YN have a camping indoors sleepover that leads to more than just friends. Extra smutty please 🤭

TLDR: Elliot and Y/N planned a "camping trip" during college vacation and well, one thing led to another and...

Word count + info: 2.1k THIS ONE IS LONGGGG! Dialogue (it’s mostly sex talk and them being silly goofy guys). Female college!readerxElliot (no specifications).

Warnings + Content Ahead: NSFW this is 18+ MDNI, 420 mentioned, biting, oral sex, no protection (smh), lotta making out and mouth stuff, thigh riding 🤭 I think that’s it!

Azzie Notes ✚: Chat we are so back! sorry I took so long bro, IRL has been soo fkin messy atm but I just needed to write and get back on here. Why is my inbox ovulating so hard tho 😭  guys lets be demure too (kidding I need dom more than ever before now that Dominic has gone MIA)I hope u enjoy it's been a while! I also mentioned Euphoria like,.. the actual word and geeked out a bit go try n find it and geek out w me

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When It Rains, It Pours - D.F.

“Oh, dude you’ve got to be fuckin' kidding me” He huffs.

There you both were, like two idiots holding hamper baskets with blankets, snacks, rolling papers, and small pillows, staring out the glass door into the backyard as rain poured down heavy, the sound of wind whistling as the drops hit the windowed door hard.

You and Elliot had spent many summers “camping” in his backyard since High School and since college had separated your time together, what better way to reunite than kicking off summer in your hometown by camping? Only this year, you both promised to save up and go somewhere this time, but alas, it was just you, Elliot, his empty house and, the torrential rain outside. You both stood in matching tartan shorts and your graduation grey t-shirts from high school like a bunch of losers.

You sigh as you set down your hamper. “So much for that camping trip, huh?” you smirk, biting a smile down.

He sets his hamper basket down too and rummages through it to find his rolling paper and his little bag of weed. “Can’t believe our fuckin’ luck man” He murmurs angrily as he fumbles his papers up.

You sigh and reach over, grabbing his now crumpled paper, and, plop yourself down on the beanbag by the door before rolling his blunt for him. He sighs and sits on the floor between your legs, placing his chin on your knee before looking up at your face, and tucking some hair behind your ear.

“I missed this- I mean I missed you, ya know? Seeing your Instagram Stories and FaceTiming isn’t the same, you even look different. I really wanted to have something to remind you of me, like old times sake sort of thing, whatever that shit means” he mumbles, before pressing his cheek onto your knee, avoiding eye contact.

Your eyes widen at his confession and you stop in your tracks, your fingers moving away from the paper to his face, bringing his eyes back to look at you. Elliot had a lot messed up but one thing was for sure; he always had your back and was always there whenever you needed him.

You both were messed up together, he was your first kiss accidentally, you accidentally smoked weed together, and you both accidentally spent the night in a jail cell after trying to joyride an old car, only to end up crashing that same car within the span of a few minutes since neither of you could drive. Something about those accidents made your heart flutter and kept you around Elliot closer rather than push you away, even though your parents didn’t exactly take it well. Now, after spending almost 8 months away, you were worried Elliot felt like he was slipping away.

“Elli, you’ll always have me, you know that right? Like, you’ve fucked me up so bad that we have a trauma bond, you can’t expect me to slip away, dude. A-And remember one time it rained like this and we made an indoor fort? How ‘bout we do that then, yeah? We have all the stuff for it, the weed and all.” You smile, hoping to get a small laugh out of him as you hold his head, his eyes boring into yours while your fingers coil around his blonde-tipped hair.

He sighs and closes his eyes softly, before nodding, grunting as he gets up. He looks down at you before you lift your head to meet his gaze. Elliot lowers himself to plant kisses on your forehead with an overwhelming tenderness that sends shivers down your spine. It turns almost possessive as he trails it down to your cheek and peppers it with long kisses. Your breath hitches and you feel like melting under his touch. You had never felt a simple kiss to be so sensual but here you were, shivering with your breath hitching. He brings his mouth to your ear, his breath slow and almost ragged.

“If you left me, Y/N, I don’t know what I’d do...” His breath is ragged against your skin as he nips at your earlobe before abruptly standing upright again. He digs into his pockets as he walks over and attends to unpacking the hampers, acting nonchalant despite the raw passion still coursing through him. Elliot has kissed and touched you before, albeit while high, but something felt so different, so desperate at this moment.

You try to shrug it off as you roll a few more blunts before crawling inside the now-built fort Elliot had made. He sits on his knees as he puts up some string lights and fluffs up some pillows before resting on his elbows and leaning back. You sit in front of him, holding a blunt between your lips. He can’t help but smile as he brings his old lighter up to you, setting it alight and bringing his face close. The first hit in your lungs feels like home as you exhale with a giggle, blowing the smoke directly into his face. His eyes narrow playfully as he leans in, not breaking eye contact. Instead of simply taking the blunt, his lips brush against yours—soft, lingering—before catching the blunt between them. The kiss is brief but electric, the blunt slipping from your mouth to his as his lips hover close, teasing. For a moment, his face stays just inches from yours, the warmth of his breath mingling with the haze of smoke.

It’s like you’re in his pocket and he’s in yours, both of you wrapped around each others’ fingers. Your back is almost pressed to his, your face tilted up to look at his while his hands wrap around your waist, under your shirt and the waistband of your shorts feeling your smooth skin. It must’ve been 20 minutes when you decide to put the blunt to the side on a small tray and reach up to his face, this time parting his mouth for a kiss. It’s lazy and relaxed as you shift your body to straddle his thigh, your tongue slipping in. Elliot moans into the kiss, holding your hip with one hand and gripping your hair tight with the other.

You grind and gyrate on his thigh, your hands pulling at his curls; you knew he went crazy for hair tugs. His lips trail your neck, his tongue and teeth trailing and gnawing as he laps the length from your collarbone to your earlobe. You let out a whimper as you continue to buck against his thigh, desperate for more. You pull away, pressing your forehead to his.

“Elli, please… don’t hold back” you murmur, pleading as you heave.

He doesn’t answer, instead, he nods and takes his hand under your t-shirt to lift it up and over your head in one swift motion before connecting his lips back to yours. You gasp as you feel the cold air hit your naked torso, the sensation fresh with the sound of you making out with rain noises in the background and the smell of marijuana burning away. It all feels so right, so real.

His head dips between the valley of your breasts, suckling while holding eye contact, lazily moving his mouth over your breast, gliding the tip of his tongue in painful slow circles before taking your nipple between your teeth. His eyes look into yours with pure innocence and attentiveness, as you moan and hold his head there, roaming his curls as you continue to rock back and forth on his thigh, desperately trying for some friction for your now soaking core. You roll his t-shirt up and take it off his torso, throwing it to the side.

Elliot holds you and places you down on the pillow and the mess of bedsheets covering the wooden floor. He leans down, planting soft kisses from the nape of your neck to the edge of your waistband. He perks up to look at you with those sweet eyes you can never get enough of.

“You’re stunning, you know that, Y/N? You always have been.” He whispers shyly before tugging at your waistband looking for approval.

You nod and lift your hips up as he pulls your shorts and underwear off in one swift motion, discarding them outside of the fort. Elliot almost groans at the sight of you completely naked, his eyes filled with desire and admiration. He grabs the blunt placed on the tray and takes a long drag. Smoke billows from his lips and drifts towards your glistening center, making you shiver with anticipation. You moan at the sensation, feeling a wave of heat rush through your body. His head dips down while he kisses your inner thighs, licking softly. He kisses your core, right on your bud making you gasp. Elliot gently spreads your lips, taking one long lick up, circling over your bud. Something about how easy and purposeful he was being had made this all the more arousing, loud moans and encouragement rolling out from your lips begging him to keep going.

Elliot eats you out as if it's his sole duty, his purpose in life, and takes his sweet time to savour you, to thrust his tongue in and out of you, to drink you up until it brings your next orgasm, and then do it all over again. His hand thumbs your breast, the other holding your hips down as you continuously buck up for each wave of pleasure he gives you that ripples through your body. Elliot reaches down to free his member as he carries you through yet another orgasm, this time jerking himself off in slow, lazy strokes, dedicating himself to you first.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’re seeing stars, everything is flowing perfectly and harmoniously for the first time in a long time. You prop yourself up on your elbows as you watch him gently guide himself to your wet core. Elliot rubs his head up and down before thrusting in, watching your face for any sign of discomfort or displeasure. You grab his shoulder with one hand and bite your lip, nodding to ask him to keep going. He pushes in further, bottoming out inside of you entirely. Your tight hole twitches around his member, adjusting to his size as he slowly moves out, before pounding back in.

It doesn’t take much for Elliot to lose control and find himself relentlessly thrusting into you, roughly gripping a hand to your breast as he moves at a furious pace. You let out provocative giggles and purrs, further fueling his intense desire as he thrusts in and out of you. The fort feels humid, the sound of rain and skin slapping filling the room. Your body craves this, needing more and more as every thrust sends a wave of pleasure through your entire body. Elliot's red eyes are locked on yours, his face contorted with pure passion, your name spilling out like a prayer. You wrap your legs around his waist, urging him to go even deeper. His breath hitches as he pounds into you, his hips bucking wildly. The smell of sweat and sex fills the air as he continues to pound, his name echoing from your lips with every thrust.

As you near the edge, you can feel yourself tightening around him, squeezing each time he slams into you. Elliot grabs your hips, holding you tightly as he thrusts faster and harder, his eyes locked on yours. His face is a mix of passion and desperation, knowing you are about to shatter beneath him. And then it happens. You both reach your peaks, sending a jolt of euphoria through the both of you before collapsing, rocking together in one final attempt to ride out your highs. Your nails dig roughly into his shoulder as Elliot bites down on yours, your arms holding him as he lies on top of you before he pulls out and falls to your side. You both breathe out with your mouths dry and skin slick with sweat as you stare up at the bedsheet lined fort ceiling covered in string lights.

Elliot sits up to lazily grab the blunt from the tray, accidentally brushing past one of the fort supports. He pauses for a moment, before exhaling and lying back, taking a drag before handing it to you, smiling.

“You know, for a second there I thought I fuckin’ ruined the momen-” He’s cut off by the fort caving in, entangling you both in sheets. You can’t even be mad at him, he just accidentally crashed his own fort after making your legs shake. God knows how the rest of the night goes, but at least it’s spent with good, old Elli.

[rufusx2]

thinking more of my "autumn headspace" so to speak a thing that happens within me only during the autumn season typically end of august to mid october in which my mind is completely free of my material shackles and i become completely and totally convinced that i can become a different person overnight i am overcome with not only a want for life and a hope for the future but i actually do make changes and i feel things much more deeply than usual, but with an air of detachment from it as if i am not quite out of body but definitely not in it either. a sort of overlap between us both? i dont recall much but i remember crying at night but being so fervent during the day. jaw clenching and shaking and buzzing with that energy. in fact i would honestly describe it as more of a high energy phase than anything else- i would be genuinely unstoppable if i could trigger it on purpose, or choose to live like that permanently. it feels as if there is a haze of gold placed over my vision when i look back in my memories. and this with comes the burning need to walk and keep my body moving. during this time a coworker described be as a "busy body" and he was absolutely right. when i was a teenager this would manifest in me going on hours-long bike rides until i could taste blood in my mouth from moving so fast, and now i wander the nearby neighborhoods turning on random corners until i can't walk any more. i am like a shark compelling to swim and i just can't stop. and it is amazing. i think so many things and while i still think while i walk it's always a bit duller now. i remember walking out in the autumn not caring if i had work later and not adjusting my hair or bothering to check my posture. i would stare at myself in the shadow i left on the sidewalk only. of course i also at one point felt as if the blank walls of my bedroom were going to swallow me up but i have posters up now. i think up countless ideas, and can only try to match that intensity and continue my projects during the rest of the year. i rarely think of new ideas in spring summer or winter. and the thing about fall i think is not just the general "vibe" of it all. because i could easily replicate that by watching over the garden wall or listening to my Autumn bands or putting up my halloween stuff at different times of year. but i think the crispness of the air and the leaves falling off the trees and the relief of being over with summer fuels me. i go for walks in spring sure but the warmth and wetness of the air distracts me from falling into this. while it rains in autumn, it's dry whenever it isn't (which is why it's part of wildfire season). but going back to my detachment. i find it freeing. of course i am still plagued by daily anxieties, but it's more manageable i suppose? or at least, it doesn't happen as frequently. but the main thing that brings me artistic inspiration (or at least, HAS brought me artistic inspiration for this project specifically), is this idea of the Ideal self. how i can become a new person, and change who i am fundamentally. it's futile of course, but for the duration of this phase i really do do it. and i know i'm doing it because other people like me more. every job i have ever had, i got hired in autumn. i am calmer. i think differently. i do things that i cannot do otherwise. and i try so hard to keep this up but i just cant. again, not in my nature. but i feel as if i can change my nature during those few short months a year. and i feel less trapped by this body. and of course this can tip very quickly into self hatred which i have gone into before on this blog (it's what is meant by 'WWJD' and killing the old self to be reincarnated as the new self) but i still cannot help but wish i knew how to trigger it. what drugs can do this to you? i would trade this sober mind for her any day of the week.

[insomniac-dot-ink]

Headlights Girl

Genre: Urban fantasy + wlw romance

Words: approx. 8k

Summary: The story of a girl with headlamps for eyes and the moth-girl she meets along the way.

My book 🌸 Ko-fi  🌸 Patreon

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Most humans carry the night with them. Even during daylight hours, they can shut out the sun, turn off the light, recede into themselves and into that soft secret place behind their eyes.

Did you know certain animals don’t have eyelids? Gecko’s have nothing between them and the violent sun which wishes to cook the colors of their world. They have to use their tongue. Dust and sand and rain, can you imagine? I was obsessed with lizards as a kid.

I stacked up books on snakes and lizards and skinks. I traced the way that sand snakes crested across the dunes, sideways and wrong. I put glue on the pads of my hand and tried to climb the walls of my room— I didn’t even get one handhold up. I went to the zoo and peered into their cages, up on my tiptoes, trying not to smudge the glass or breath too hard. I tried make out their triangle heads and slow tongue-flicks, but they each shrank away deep into nooks and crannies of their cages. Most things do when I look at them.

Most humans carry the night with them, right there behind their eyelids is an entire world of darkness. I have something else inside me, not quite, not soft, not secret. They called me “headlights girl” in the newspapers.

There were even stranger kids born in the Age of Spirits. I checked. Every morning of fifth grade, I scanned the papers for mentions of “oddities” growing into anomalies.

A boy who could breath fire. A girl with leaves sprouting from her head. A kid with antennae that could taste the wind. There are stranger things than me in the age of beasts and magic. My father called it the “Epoch of Bastards,” sons and daughters of flickering fire elementals and wind ghosts who seduced half-asleep ladies from their beds.

He didn’t look at me much growing up. And I knew what he meant. I knew what he was getting at by calling it the Epoch of Bastards. Growing up, I played in my little puddle of carpet on the floor as he blustered in and out of rooms like gale force winds. He’d be looking for his keys or a left shoe or wallet since he was going out, out, out. I think I missed him at first, in the way you miss strangers you’ve never met.

Later, still on my puddle of carpet, still on my island, I would glare at him with that sour, acid taste in the back of my throat. Acrid, smoky, I would barely blink as he passed; he’d jump when he turned too quickly and accidentally fell into my path. Later still, I would begin to wish they were both like that—blustery and calling people names, gone more often than not.

It sometimes felt better than hearing my mom weep to herself on the couch. I wish she’d do it in her room or outside or anywhere else than that theatrical sobbing in the middle of the house, a naked heartbeat to the place. She spoke to her friends on the phone in that same watery voice, handkerchief in hand and sniffling, she spoke to them more than me.

What else am I supposed to do? This isn’t how it was supposed to be. She’d wail, just a bit, and then find a new thing to wail over. They could barely afford to send me to That School. They could barely afford the special doctor’s appointments for my eyes. They barely knew what to do with me.

Sometimes, I wanted to shout right back: It’s not like I didn’t want to be here either!

But she wasn’t talking to me. 

School wasn’t much better. We weren’t the same, not really. None of us were the same age or had the same affliction. Plus, most everyone else stayed in dorms where they bonded with secrets and whispers and hiding from matrons. It wasn’t the same.

They called me The Lighthouse and Car Face and Nightlight. Sometimes they’d give me a few bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face. I did it. They’d laugh and reassure me I was as ugly as you’d think. Or beautiful. Or perfectly average-looking or I had a pig-nose or unibrow. I’d never seen anything but the blinding light of my own eyes in the mirror so I could never contradict them.

A boy with antlers handed me a twenty for a kiss in the 6th grade. I closed my eyes for that too. It was chapped and dry and he ran away with a screaming laugh afterward. There are stranger kids than me, I reminded myself. So why do I feel so much stranger than the rest of them?

I was 16 when I heel-toed my way down the stairs toward the front door. A duffel bag slung over my shoulder stuffed with loose clothes, change, a bath towel, three books with broken spines, all the tampons in the house, and a Swiss-army knife.

I hoped to stuff as many cheddar-cheese sandwiches in my sack as possible before the midnight bus came, but he was at the kitchen table. I don’t think either of us expected it, like running into your teacher at the mart and you’re both buying the same brand of toilet cleaner. There was a beer in front of his idle hands and he still wore his rumpled work shirt. He glanced at the bag on my shoulder for a long minute.

Finally, he sighed like I cut him off in traffic.

“Gimme a moment.”

My father leafed through a wad of cash he kept in a safe. He handed me almost three hundred bucks and we nodded at each other. At the time, I thought there was a kind of satisfaction to that nod, an endnote.

I was out the door before the midnight bus arrived.

Only three people were at the terminal. None of them looked at me with my pack and my knife stuffed in one hand and my eyes glowing. They did look at the glow, but not for long.

Remote and empty like maybe the world had ended and the last bits of if were nothing but strangers not making eye contact.

Finally, I watched the headlights of the midnight bus approach through dense summer night. I was struck by the thought that it was like looking at like, the glow of my eyes against its eyes. Can a bus be your father? Can your father be a man after all this time? Will your mother come looking for you?

I got on the bus and kicked my feet up against the seat in front of me. Scrunched into a ball, crossed my arms over my chest, and watched the trees turn into flickering bodies of shadow with each passing mile. ------------- My feet moved like tides. They tossed me against nameless city streets and toward empty forested slices of land. I stumbled into the painted deserts toward the west. I dipped my toes into the neon districts of the east with lights brighter than my own. I slept on benches and in kid’s treehouses and hunched my shoulders against brick walls of back alleys.

No one touched me. Maybe they’d approach now and then, but I’d open my eyes and they’d see nothing but heaven or devils or an absent lightning-God father that would smite them. I was the daughter of spirits after all.

I found my way to the ocean; beaches where other stragglers gathered and it was easy to stretch out on empty pieces of warm sand. I didn’t talk much by then, I didn’t like to; people stared whether I was speaking or screaming and clamping down on my jaw so hard it ached. Sometimes I get yelled at: Turn that off! No phone lights in here. You’re blinding me, bitch!

I’d never seen a movie in any theatres, but I could imagine what it’s like.

It was crowded, but I liked that ocean city, despite myself. It had pale buildings built into cliffs, narrow winding sidewalks where cars couldn’t fit, reckless bikers, and crushed seashell parking lots. I liked the tang of salt in the air and the way my hair crinkled from the ocean water as it sun-dried. I camp out on beaches and bummed cigarettes and hotdogs off strangers. I was good at taking care of myself once I got into a rhythm.

I had a tent by then and even an enormous sun umbrella to keep any prying eyes away. I still liked to sleep under the stars most nights though.

I often dreamed of sinking to the bottom of the ocean. I dreamed of descending on pointed ballerina-feet to the silted black bottom. I’d be weighted down through the cold and the silence to where no human being had ever been. I’d open my eyes there, open them all the way, lightning-bright, and unflinching. In my dreams, the salt didn’t even sting. I lit up the world, the whole untouched world of whales and fish and terror and maybe I’d do something good then. Maybe I’d do something good and bring the sun to places that had forgotten it. 

I hated those dreams.

I met Mags on the beach after one of those dreams. Mags had one eye and twelve teeth and carried around nothing but string and scissors everywhere. She smelled like seawater and burning kelp, dank and crusted over. Her clothes were neat despite her leather-cracked skin and arms and neck covered in tattoos of shipwrecks. We ran into each other at some bum gathering and she cackled and pulled me aside.

“What’s your name?” Her voice was old creaking wood. I didn’t answer. “I could give you one.” She offered with a grin that was more empty space than anything.

“Nana.” I gritted out. “You want something?”

“Not sure. What do you want, kid?”

I glared openly, my beam of light slanting. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Come here.”

I didn’t know why I was chosen.

Mags liked me more than I deserved. I pocketed her last pair of socks when she wasn’t looking. She never mentioned it and dragged me down to the community showers to get clean with soap and shampoo. She took me to the soup and salad restaurant for something that wasn’t burnt or freeze-dried or from a convenience store. She cackled, she spat when she talked, people shot her looks as well.

I thought she was normal, not touched by the spirits, but she liked me more than most people and I didn’t know why.

“You like art, kid?”

I snorted. “No.”

“Why not? You broken?” Yeah. Probably.

“How am I supposed to know?” I snapped back.

“Lippy squirt. Come on, I’ll show you something worth your forked tongue.”

She heated the needle before she used it, red hot and untouchable. She dipped it into deep black inks, only black and sometimes red, she called them the only colors that matter. She shows me how to prick the skin and clean it. She showed me how to slowly, painstakingly etch images. I wasn’t sure I liked it, there was something so permanent and intentional about the act.

I watched her lessons though: stick and poke to her right foot, all over those fine little bones that must hurt, in and out, a little bloody.

It took her six hours to make a tiny shipwreck right above her big toe. It was a narrow schooner going under and I was the only witness. She made the waves come to life and crash against its sides and sometimes I forgot to blink. She didn’t seem to mind.

She washed another needle. She heated it red-hot. She dipped it in ink and handed it to me.

I still wasn’t sure I liked the permanence of it, but I told myself I was bored and it was something to do. I decided quickly I did like the bite of it, I liked the focus it took, and the ability to pull something from nothing.

I practiced all over my thighs first, there was enough meat there and it was easy enough to reach: a lizard design that looked like nothing but squiggles, a TV set playing static, a tiny smudged skink with its tongue out. I practiced designs in the sand and then on paper when Mags splurged on pen and paper.

Mags took me to the museum on Sundays. They were always free on Sundays.

Something stirred in my chest, even as the guards yelled at us about how flash photography wasn’t allowed in the museum. Even as I was shooed out of exhibits for ruining the paint. Still, an ache so old it rotted roared to life in my chest.

I stabbed in and out, gentle, a collection of stars right above my right knee. A winding sand snake on my wrist, and then finally, something good, something that gave people pause and reason to stare. I made it in the mirror: a ghost on my collarbone. Shadowed and intricate and yet simple, I put a ghost right above my collarbone and it bleeds more than any of the others.

That was a good year or so; one of the best I could remember.

I didn’t want to leave the ocean city though and Mags said she had to keep moving. She had places to be. She gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

“You're a gem, kid. You’ll knock ‘em all to the pavement.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “You’ll be back?”

She cackled. “Wouldn’t miss it. You know me.” She winked as she turns to the bus, my second father. “You think I’ll miss your great becoming, kid? I’ll be back.”

I wanted to make her pinky-promise like I was a kid again begging one of the others to tell me if I’m beautiful when I close my eyes. I couldn’t do that; I waved as she tottered up the steps of the bus and was taken away with the tides of her own feet.

A had a moment of thinking it was the end then; I was ready to get back to my real normal. I was ready to disappear again. But even shipwrecks with no witnesses leave things left to be found.

------------ I got an apprenticeship. Technically, Mags talked them into it and I just followed up when I had nothing better to do.

I didn’t think I’d like it much, but couch surfing and camping out was the pastime of the especially young. And I’d lost my giant umbrella.

It was a small shop that smelled like bleach and dried flowers. A tattoo parlor in one of the steep arts districts neighbored by food trucks and beaded necklace shops.

Penguin Davies and Bitch-Annie ran it together. Davies walked like he’d never encountered land before, and Bitch-Annie had a throw-pillow embroidered with “If you don’t have anything nice to say then come sit next to me.”

Davies was covered in nothing but birds and dizzying M. C. Escher house-designs up and down his chest and arms. Bitch-Annie had topless mermaids and pinup girls across her shoulders and legs. She’d been asked to leave a number of stores before the children started staring or thinking thoughts.

Neither of them had ever met someone like me. It was not that type of town. I rankled at most their questions, a cat meeting a steel brush. Where are you from? What’s your family name? What kind of school did you go to? Is your sight better than other people you think?

I brushed off anything more personal than my favorite type of soda. Bitch-Annie called me “Shadow” probably as a joke, probably. Davies said I must be possessed by the ghost of some dead star: a blackhole that takes everything in and lets nothing out.

Neither of them let me touch a needle in those first six months. They had me practice on pig skin and trace designs and stand by their shoulders as they worked. I felt like a dental assistant except I was the hanging light shining into open mouths instead of anything with a pulse. I stood at their shoulder as they drew thick lines and thin dots and made hearts and wolves and names of dead lovers come to life.

They asked me to stand still and stop wiggling the light. I almost walked out several to find a new cliff to crash against, almost. 

No one had ever expected anything of me before. They never expected me to show up somewhere or do something well. No one really cared if I went to school or if I did my homework, if I dressed well or went to bed on time. And no one kept any tabs on me at all after I took that first bus. That’s how I liked it.

I should’ve left, tattooing didn’t mean anything to me, not really. But Bitch-Annie stomped up to my attic-apartment one morning and threw pants at me.

“Get up, Shadow,” she barked. She was sterner than Mags, no hint of humor in her eyes. “I told you 9am so I expect 9am.”

“The fuck!?” I was eloquent in the mornings.

“Pants, shirt, shoes, and bra if you don’t want that desk idiot staring at something other than your eyes all day.”

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as a root canal. Mags swore up and down about what you. Let’s see some of that, up, up!”

I grumbled. I put on everything but the bra. No one ever expected me to be anywhere before and 9am shouldn’t have even been a concept much less a real thing. I told myself I hated it. I’d leave the next week. Or maybe the week after that or in just one more month. I kept a bus ticket under my pillow but every time the date arrived I shrugged and made myself busy.

There’d be no harm in having a savings too and seeing what all the fuss was about with having a dishwasher and a kitchen.

I wasn’t an artist of course. I didn’t understand what everyone else was seeing when they looked at the “old masters” paintings of water or war or lovers pulled apart. I didn’t feel anything in front of stain-glass windows in churches or mosaics on walls. Maybe there really was something wrong with me, my eyes. I didn’t let up though. I put on pants for it after all.

Penguin Davies hovered by my shoulder when I made my first real design.

“Mm.” He rumbled deep in his chest. He’d gone grey at an early age, had tired eyes and quick hands. The desk kid said he’d been in medical school once, a surgeon. It was hard to tell. Davies muttered a lot, stared off into space too much, and laughed like it was always a painful surprise

“Perfectionist,” he muttered at me as I start over on a crappy unicorn design. “That line was barely off. You’re being a perfectionist, Nana.”

I scowled over my shoulder and let the full weight of my light hit him across the face. “Got a problem with it?” I challenged. He chuckled darkly. His grin was crooked like a broken door handle. I tried to hide my work from him with my shoulder. “It’s not done yet.”

“It’s late.” The rest of the street was dark. I knew that.

“I said I’m not done yet! You can go home.”

“Hmm.” He scratched his grey beard.

“What?”

“Look at you. You know who makes the best artists, Nana?” He was always a bit of a philosopher. Maybe he used to study that before medicine.

“Yeah, yeah, shut up. I’m working on it.”

He gave my shoulder a light push. “The ones that don’t quit.”

They let me touch a needle gun after that. I told myself I’d only sign my new apartment lease as an experiment. I didn’t have to actually stay. I’d just run from the ink on paper and hope no one chased after girls with eyes that glow.

I didn’t break my lease. I drew suns and moons, trees and fireflies, hunks in speedos on tipsy college girls who swore they were sober and erotic vampires on the chests of men getting their first divorce. I had to give two refunds for a duck that turned out lopsided and a tattoo of someone’s dog which I swore really was that ugly to begin with.

There was one at the end of that next year though, another college girl with perfectly white piano-key teeth. She asked for a stick and poke, that was what I was best at anyway, she asked for a butterfly. Butterflies were easy, I could do the little ones in my sleep. She wanted one all across her back, she said I could make it look however I wanted. So I did. Wings like fringed shawls and straight heavy lines combined with wispy swirling ones. It was dark, black ink with red highlights and gray shadows under each wing to give it movement and flight.

I hid my smile when I finished and showed her the results in the mirror. She went to my bosses and jumped up and down. She pointed and babbled, ohmyspirits, the best thing I’ve ever seen! Fuck. I should pay you double! Where did you get this girl? 

I held myself perfectly still and studied the ceiling until my eyes dried out.

I took the long way home that night. I stopped once, at the corner where the midnight bus arrived, and watched the the passengers trudge off. I didn’t expect to see Mags again so soon, not really, but sometimes I wanted to show her: Hey, maybe your work wasn’t all wasted. Maybe I did start to become.

---------------- “I’m getting you chocolate.” Annie spat, her thick arms flexing as she cleaned off the spotless counter. “I’m getting you fucking chocolate, Shadow, ‘less you tell me what flavor you actually like.”

I hung at the back of the shop next to the narrow window that faced the road. I let the sun warm my face in thick strips and watched the bicycles pass. “It’s not my birthday.”

“Tell us what your actual birthday is then, you sugar-toasted tart.”

I shrugged. “Not today.”

“Well happy fucking birthday. You’re turning two. You came to work for us two years ago today, washed up from the beach like a deranged feral cat, so this is your birthday now.”

I rolled my eyes which served to look like a flashlight given a shake. Annie spent another minute splashing disinfectant on anything that might have had even a passing conversation with a germ.

“You talk to Birdie?” She asked, but mischievously this time. I responded by setting my mouth in a hard line. “You’re turning twenty-something and you’re not even talking to Birdie, are ya?”

“I’m not telling you what I’m turning. It’s still not my birthday.” I dodged inelegantly.

“Birdie will give you a proper go-around. Even shadows like you must need a little rub now and then.”

“Go dunk your head, Annie.” I huffed.

“Afraid you’ll blind her in bed?”

I turned with a snarl. “I’ll start with you.”

“I’ve seen you flipping through those poetry books, every word about hands or mouths or rosebuds.” She gave me flat a once-over. “You’ve got a sweet tooth in you.”

I dragged myself over to the desk to snarl at her some more, but Annie was already putting her hand up and going toward the backroom.

“I’m getting you a chocolate cake either way.”

There must have been a proper way to get her to never look at my little leather poetry books again, the ones with watermarked pages, the spines broken-in, and words that oozed. No one had to know that I could read, much less that I read that.

The door dinged instead.

“Excuse me.” She walked in. Her. “Is someone, um, named Nana here?” I turned before I could stop myself. That was still my name. And it was still my work.

Twenty-something, curtains of straight black hair falling in her face, pinched nose, thin energetic lips, shorts that gave way to milk-dipped legs that never seemed to end. A slight girl in a university t-shirt. College kids came in often during their breaks, but this one was a bit different. My eyes dragged up and fish-hooked there.

Feathered tendrils sprouted from her head and reached toward the ceiling. Long and searching, a pearly green color that reminded you of leaves or plumage.

I knew within a moment where I’d heard of this: Antennae Girl. The newspapers ran our stories close together along with the boy that breathed fire and the girl with roots growing from her head. We were all born in the same year during the epoch of monsters and bastards.

I think she recognized me too.

We stopped like heartbeats seizing up before the ambulance could make it. A confused, unnatural silence. I glanced at the door and considered making a run for it.

She cleared her throat first.

“Someone said that Misty’s butterfly tattoo came from here?” She blinked once and I noticed how her feathered antennae seemed to twitch. I averted my eyes so I wouldn’t blind her. She took a step forward. “So are you . . . Nana?”

The door was right there.

“What do you want?” I had been spending too much time with Bitch-Annie.

“A tattoo?”

“What kind?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Then why are you here?” I grunted. Footsteps came in from the back room. I was examining the smudged off-white tiles of the floor one by one.

“I wanted to . . . hey, you can look up if you want.” She said, curiously, softly. I didn’t look up. “I’m still figuring out the design.” She trudged on ahead.

“Fine.” I pivoted away. “But we’re busy. Come back later.”

A hand slapped across my shoulder. “This is Nana.” Annie stopped me from leaving. “Don’t let her eyes fool ya, it’s her personality that’s actually the problem. You saw her butterfly you said?”

“Yes!” She gushed. “It was gorgeous.”

“It was fine,” I corrected.

“It’s her birthday today.” Annie shared because she could and because she was a failed evil villain still trying to get her kicks in.

“Oh cool, happy Birthday.” A deep pause followed that could fill oceans. “You can look up. I don’t mind.” She repeated.

I opened my eyes wide and lifted my chin in one jerky motion. A beam of fluorescent headlights hit her across the face. “Is this what you want?” Venom dripped from my lips. This was why I tried not to talk too much.

The young woman squinted for a moment before covering her eyes and nodding. “I read about you,” she stated as if it was nothing. “I’m turning twenty-two this year . . . so I guess, you are too?”

“What?!” Delight filled Annie’s entire expression. “Hot damn! Twenty-two?” I groaned deeply. “Hey, you, girlie,” she addressed antennae-girl, “you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

I tried to protest as quickly as possible, but somehow didn’t summon the words quickly enough.

“Sure.” She agreed. ----------------------

The night was humid and clung to us like a second skin. I wandered through the hilly streets with Penguin Davies wobbling beside me. The desk kid—Daft Jeff, said Davies had some inner-ear problem that made it hard for him to keep his balance. Annie said he just didn’t belong on land— he couldn’t walk straight unless something was tilting and rolling under his feet.

Davies made his way up the hill, faltering and missing the musical beats of it. He refused to let me steady him and I refused to have him sing to me. It was apparently my birthday.

“Someone saw your design.” He noted on the downhill.

“Yeah. Some college girl.” I grumbled.

“What’d you think?” He asked in his usual mysterious way.

“She just wants a good look.” I returned in a neutral tone. “She read about me in the paper. All she wants to do is look.”

“She saw your design.” He paused. “And Jeff said she was like you.”

I blinked hard so the path ahead was eaten by shadow and Davies stumbled. “Not all of us have to be friends . . .” I said sourly and didn’t fill in the rest. “I’ve met kids with antlers and frog-hands before. I doesn’t mean anything.”

“Any of them come visit?”

“They’re smart enough not to.” I snark. “But the ones who manage to be pretty don’t have the brains to stay away.”

“Mm.” He made a soft sound. “What kind of tattoo do you think she’ll get?”

“How should I know? A heart or anchor or something dumb like that.” I walked on ahead. “Maybe I’ll give her a quote from some dead poet.”

“You like poetry.”

I huff dramatically, “Not what I mean. Girls like her don’t like my type of poetry, you know I’m saying.”

“What kind of girls?” Davies was patient. I hated that about him.

I stopped at the corner to let him catch up. “Don’t play dumb. Hot ones, college ones, getting a degree in money or music. They don’t watch over their shoulders enough or know when to stay away.” I scuffed my shoe on the ground. “Whatever.”

Davies was still thinking. I considered pushing him over. He finally spoke up again as we approach the bar, “That sea witch ever show up again?”

“Mags?” I snorted. “No. Why?”

“Cause I’m sure she’d like to see this.”

I didn’t say anything else as we reached the doorway. -------------------- The bar was loud. More people than I liked came to my “party.” I should have seen it coming. If the cliff city liked one thing it was an excuse to drink.

I crammed myself up against the bar and ordered a gin and tonic before the rest of the night crowd could arrive. Birdy was holding court at a corner table and waving at me. “There she is! Someone put a blanket over Nana, lights out, party up!”

Her puns usually left something to be desired. She sang “Blinded by the Light” every time she saw me for half a year.

I drank half my gin and tonic in the first gulp as a new stream of townies burst in. They arrived to buy me birthday beers and shout their opinions on the shitty new chain restaurant on 3rd street. I was almost tasting the bottom of my second glass when someone tapped on my shoulder.

I barely looked over.

The girl with sheets of black hair and a practiced-appearance stood before me—like she was at dress rehearsal and expected everyone else to know the lines as well. She carried a baby-blue bike helmet in one hand, and I noted there were two hand-drilled holes in the top.

“You.” I was tempted to shake her hand like I might make this a transactional hello and goodbye in short order.

“Hey.” She smiled, hesitant, like maybe the food on the fork might be too hot. “Nana, right?”

“Yep.” I sighed the word real long and heavy. “Listen, I really can’t give you a tattoo if you don’t know what you want.”

“No, no, I get it. But I want you to know . . . I didn’t know it was you.”

“Uh, okay. Though I’m pretty hard to miss over here.” I was looking at the dirty wine bottles stacked near the ceiling. Her antennae hang over both of us like fern fronds.

“No. I mean, when I saw the butterfly. That’s when I wanted to come here. Not after.”

“After what?” I was gonna make her say it.

“After I found that it was, well, you know, Headlights Girl.”

“Mm.” I was spending too much time with Davies. “You want something to drink?”

She sighed as well, real long and heavy. “Sure.” She took the seat next to me. “I’m Park by the way.”

“Park.” I rolled the name around in my mouth. “And you already know me.”

“I don’t think I do.” She laughed, sharp and bristly like something you can get cut on. “And I’ll have a beer. . . but only once you look up. Come on, I’m not like that.” I looked up. Her face was bright, round like the moon, her grin was sneaky and unearned. “There we go.”

She waved over the bartender Kipp and ordered her dark beer.

“It’s not really my birthday.” I informed her, dumbly. Every word felt dumb and clumsy all at once.

“Why not?” She was teasing. I knew that.

“That’s not how birthdays work.” I informed and wished I could backtrack into hostility again.

“Oh darn,” she winked. “And here I was about to make it my birthday too.”

“Uh, well,” I really should have left when I had the chance. “It’s not too late?”

“That’s the spirit!” She laughed, fuller this time and rounded. I looked her straight in the face and then quickly looked away again. Her grin was aimed at me, somehow, and seemed to reach high cupboards inside me you usually needed a stool for.

“Park,” I repeated the name and shifted in place. “So did you go to Haveryards or Simmons?” There were only two schools in the country for spirit bastards like us. Haveryards was close enough for me to get bussed to—an hour one way and then an hour home.

“Neither. I went to public and then Bakerville Uni.” She rapped on the counter. “Hey, you want another gin and tonic? Or I’ll mix you up something.” Her eyes flickered over everything. “I bartended my way through college so I can make a mean margarita.”

“Oh, Bakerville U., yeah. That ones close.” I stuttered a bit. She was leaning across the counter and trying to get Kipp’s attention a second time. My words were feeling dumber and dumber by the moment, perhaps losing all shape and meaning altogether. “That’s where you went?”

“How’d you guess?” She said playfully and pointed to her t-shirt. She finally got the bartender over. “Right, you want something hard? Vodka maybe? A mule?”

I scratched my chin. “ . . . I don’t care. I’m easy.”

She rolled her eyes and I knew she must feel me staring. “I can’t imagine shopping for you for today then.” She snickered and climbed over the counter. “Happy birthday, how about one chocolate mule for a free tattoo?”

“You wish.” I made a face. “You don’t even know what you want.”

“And you do?” She was still grinning, somehow. “I’ve decided I’m making you the equivalent of all the soda flavors mixed together at once. Close your eyes.”

I closed my eyes and I tried to turn off my thoughts. It was bright as knives inside my skull; I carry the daytime with me. Panic threatened to rise up (for no reason of course), but a soft hand brushed against mine, soft like sheets in fancy hotels and flower petals. I peaked and Park slid a full murky glass toward me.

“Drink up.”

It was sweet. It wasn’t even my birthday. I didn’t care. She called it a chocolate-mule-Park Special and maybe chocolate really was my favorite flavor. -------------- Park started coming around. She rode a sky-blue bike with a white basket and rusting hinges. I couldn’t imagine doing all the hills in the city without any gears, but she managed. She said she was figuring things out after graduating. She said she liked it here.

I grumbled when she came by. I complained like Annie when Wicker the cat visited: Get that thing away from me. I hate that. Smells awful. I’ve got allergies. Put that away, it’ll kill me.

I never said anything when Annie left fish heads out and bowls of milk of course.

Park smelled like sunscreen and breath mints. She had strong opinions on everything from street paving techniques to which sun hats went with which dresses. She invited me on walks. She invited me to help her change a flat tire. She invited me to the corner shop to help her pick out bottle can openers.

I said no. Sometimes I said no. I started to say yes.

“Look at this,” she liked to show me things. She liked to show me pictures of squirrels on her phone and weird pieces of glass she found. She liked to point out new restaurants (that I’d already been to) and play videos of funny traffic jams.

This time she held up a seashell. It was rounded and flat with a swirl in the center.

“I’m looking.” I said carefully.

“Watch how it catches light.” I shun my eyes on it and she moved it back and forth. There were bits of silver veins caught in the cracks of it.

“There’s tons of those.” At this point, I had valiantly refused to be impressed by even her cutest squirrel pictures.

“Ugh.” She pouted. “Are you kidding? I spent all morning looking for this.”

“They're right by the surf. I could find you five bigger ones than this before sunset.”

“Alright, hot-shot.” She jut her chin out and jabbed my shoulder. “Prove it.”

I said yes to that one. I left right after my shift ended with the sun setting in the waters like a stabbed orange bleeding out. I met Park by the parking lot with drooping palms trees lining the sides and lost flipflops everywhere.

“This is where you went wrong.” I announced. I couldn’t help it. “This is the tourist beach. You have to go somewhere real.”

“Alright, alright. You’ve already established you’re the hot-shot here. Lead the way.”

She followed me. I ignored how she lingered by my side. I ignored how her hand wrapped around my arm as she stopped us to look at a tiny horseshoe crab. Her hand was soft, like velvet, soft enough to smother something in my chest.

I found two seashells with streaks of silver and rainbow through them, both bigger than my palm. The sun was a flat line on the horizon before I could find a third and Park hooted.

“You said before sunset! It’s sunset, baby, pay up.” She called. “And you were so sure you were a better seashell hunter than me.” She tsked.

I scanned the ground more quickly. “It’s barely nighttime.” I pointed to the sky. “And I can keep looking. I have the built-in equipment for it.”

“Oh I know.” She planted herself on the soggy crusted sand and sat down in a heap. “But can you find why kids love the taste of not doing that? Take it easy. Take a seat.”

“So pushy.”

“You know me.” It was fond. It had only been a few months, but there was something fond there.

I ran a hand through my short choppy curls. “Fine.” I sat next to her, not too close. “It’s your loss.” We both looked out at the gently lapping waves, foaming and anemic. She let a long breath of air and for a moment I considered brushing her hair back. It was always in her face.

It was a quiet moment, bottled, and pitching toward something. Like the the moment where you miss a step on the stairs and the certainty of the fall was right there.

I was the one that scooted a little closer.

“I’m considering getting a storm cloud,” she commented off-handedly. “Can you do storm clouds?”

I made a sound of consideration. “Sure.” I glanced toward the opposite corner of the night sky. “I think I’ve seen one of those before. Big puffy wet things?”

“Kinda fluffy? You’re getting there.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” I’m smiling, which is alright since there’s no way she could see it. She’s silent for another moment longer.

“Or would you make fun of me if I got something like a butterfly? Like your other one.”

“A storm cloud butterfly?”

“No. The cloud would it’s own thing.” She chewed on her bottom lip, ragged and chapped. “I mean, I’ve been doodling some ideas. And tattoos should be personal, right? So I thought a storm cloud might be fitting. Kids used to pay me a couple dollars to predict the weather. It could be a memorial to childhood entrepreneurial spirit.”

I watched her speak and something beat inside my chest like a second animal. I wanted to be closer. I wanted to feel velvet again.

“Why?” I rasped after a moment.

“Uh, why did they pay me? It’s just something I can do. Whenever it's going to rain or storm or be sunny out. I dunno, I don’t know why the rest of you can’t sense it.”

“And you didn’t become a meteorologist?” I smiled a bit bitterly.

She made an indignant noise. “And you didn’t become a professional lighthouse?”

I choked on a laugh. “Not yet.” A quiet consumed us from both sides, I made sure my light didn’t crash into her. I made sure to look at anything but her. She’d have to squint if I did and cover her eyes and I’d be there, ready to run her over.

“Kids in my class paid me too.” I barely realized I started speaking. “They slipped me a couple bucks to close my eyes so they could see my face.”

“You got money for that?”

“There wasn’t always much to do. Teachers were quitting all the time and sometimes it was just the TV. I dunno, they paid me. Then they’d giggle and run away afterward.” My voice sounded automated like the announcer at an airport, informing travelers their flight was canceled. “They always said I had a pig nose or a unibrow or looked like the lead singer of that Minx girl band-- super hot, but you know, it didn’t matter.” The laugh that escaped was high, girlish in a grotesque way. “Since, you know, no one would ever see it.”

“Kids are fucked up.” Park contributed simply.

“Adults are too.” I sniffed. “Everyone wants a light show.”

“Oh.” She said slowly. “Is it . . . is it bad I wanted to meet you then? I mean, I wanted to see the art first, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a factor.”

“No.” I said quickly. I lit up my own lap and empty hands. “Does it matter?”

“I never went to those schools,” she said hesitantly. “My parents fought them, said the schools were unfit. They shouldn’t be able to force us there. And that I wasn’t even dangerous since,” she gestured helplessly upward, “I just have these. So then, well, I never really met anyone else like me.”

“I mean, everyone’s different. It’s not . . . a big deal.”

“You’d think so,” she commented sardonically.

I folded up into myself like a complex origami piece. “Yeah, well, sometimes I wish I was dangerous. Actually dangerous.”

She giggled. “Didn’t you just say everyone’s different? I’d say everyone’s dangerous too. Just gotta find the niche.”

“Oh yeah,” I dared to turn toward her. “What’s yours then?”

“My danger niche? Hmm.” She was leaning now, pitching forward like a wave come to drown me. “I do have a few tricks up my sleeve I’ll admit.”

“You have a pair of wings hidden away?” I stopped breathing as her hand lifted up, strange and all at once. I wasn’t ready.

“Here.” Her skin was against mine. She cupped my cheek with one velvet-hand. It was heated cashmere, tiny feather-light hairs on her palm. “Feelers.” She whispered with a hesitancy there.

“Ah,” I was indulgent. I closed my eyes. I leaned in. “And you want to put a needle over these?” I put my hand over hers, loosely, so she could pull away if she wanted to. Tiny hairs pulsed there with some kind of life all their own. 

“I wanted . . .” She paused and I peaked open my eyes. I could see every detail of her face, illuminated. “I dunno.” She finished. “I guess I just wanted whatever I saw there, before.”

“In the butterfly?”

“In the butterfly.” I turned toward the ocean, but my hand remained over hers. “I’m not sure how good it will be a second time. It’s not like I’m really an artist. . .”

“What did you want to be?” Soft.

“Who knows. I mean, I’m glad my parents didn’t try to fight the schools. Being there during the day was better than being home, listening to my mom crying all the time and my father exploding . . . They wouldn’t have wanted me home.”

Before the sunset, when I was walking over, I thought maybe we’d kiss that night. I thought I’d feel that first electric pulse and maybe we’d climb into the ocean and swim in circles, laugh until the moon rose. I thought maybe I’d get something out of my system and there wouldn’t be anything left to say or do.

I’d kiss Park, once, and she’d be satisfied. She’d understand. She’d go on her college path and I’d go on on mine.

But the words spilled out, unbidden. Park stayed in place, steady and unflinching. That made it worse, so much worse.

“My parents weren’t like yours.” There was an accusatory edge to it. Don’t you know? I wanted to shout. Don’t you know? Even without the eyes or the school bills or the bus.

“Hey,” she cradled my cheeks with both hands now and smeared the tears away from one eye. “Hey, listen, I know. Alright? I know.”

I scowled back at her feathered little feelers.

“It’s not about the damn antenna or head beams or anything else.” I tried to pull away. “Even the kid with the antler’s kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I ran away from home and my mom never came looking. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! You wouldn’t even get it. You wouldn’t get it!” I squeeze my eyes closed. “You were wanted.”

Slowly, like an awkward animal burrowing into soft earth, she pressed her forehead to the crook of my neck. I could feel us both breathing in, strong and steady. She was lean and silky, and I swore I can feel her heartbeat hammering through my throat.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered. I inhaled her sunscreen scent. “I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t know. But I could.”

“Why are you here?” It was miserable and wet, I hated that my eyes were so different and yet still the same. Could still spill over like theirs. She took a long breath but didn’t move away.

“My last girlfriend broke up with me for being . . . sensitive and I thought maybe if I got a tattoo, I’d stop feeling so much. I’d prove something. I’d feel everything less, you know? It would hurt and then it wouldn’t.”

I took that in a parsec at time. “Are you,” I sniffed. “Are you alright?” Her legs and arms were plastered over mine. “You’re so soft, but, but I don’t want to,” I wipe at my face like it didn’t matter. “Hurt you.”

“I know.” Her face was still pressed to my neck and her lips fluttered across the hallow of my skin. “I didn’t want to hurt you either.”

A stillness settled into my bones. I glanced toward the moon, and it was like looking at like, a terrible moon to another moon. I gathered myself. I took a deep breath. I flattened.

“I shouldn’t have said all that.” My voice had dried up. “We led different lives.” It wasn’t her fault if she was wanted.

“No.”

“I wasn’t thinking . . .”

Her hand wrapped around my wrist. “I talk to Annie sometimes when you aren’t there.”

“Okay?”

“And Davies. And that front desk guy.”

“Daft Jeff. Yes.”

“They all say the same thing . . .” I blinked a couple times. “That I really should wait for you to give me the tattoo. You have a steady hand and an eye for detail.”

“Alright . . .”

“That someone taught you tattooing the right way. They wanted to show you the right way to do it.”

I snorted despite myself. “It’s not that hard. Mags was batty. Who knows why she showed me how to pick up a needle.”

“Don’t you see? They say they wouldn’t know what to do without you.” She was still there. She wasn’t moving, almost in my lap now. “You were wanted.”

“Park?” My voice cracked like a question.

“And you come with me to restaurants and help me buy bottle openers. You find shells for me and help me fix tires.” Her breath was hot and dragged across my cheek. “You are wanted.”

I blocked out her face, her voice, I turned on the sharp white sun inside and for a moment I imagine never opening my eyes back up again. Maybe I could make it night forever inside myself as well. Wouldn’t you rather have something quiet inside?

She wrapped herself around me, fully, one long arm at a time until it was cocoon. Soft. “Listen, sometimes the first people aren’t the right people. Sometimes your first relationship isn’t the right relationship. Sometimes you’re sure the world is one way, and like, always one way . . . and then it rains and the whole world is different again. You know? People pass.”

“My parents aren’t the weather.”

“But they’ll pass.” I should have pushed her off. But even against that, even those words— I liked being held, indulgent as chocolate and twice as guilty. “People sometimes feel forever, especially those kinds of people.” I was off again. “But it rains. And hey, I always know when it’s going to rain.”

I hiccupped; a smile found its way uninvited onto my face, unsure and just wobbly on its feet as Davies. I glanced down after a deep breath. Park grinned back at me and it reached the highest shelves of me all over again.

“So what happens when it rains again? Do you people like you pass?”

“Nah, not me. I don’t know how.” She winked. I didn’t notice that we’re lying flat now, stars and carpet of black above. “You can’t get rid of me. You haven’t given me that tattoo yet.”

The sound of shushing waves filled the midnight air and the moon looked down like that very first bus arriving to get me all those years ago. I wrapped my arms right back around her. She didn’t seem to mind that I was sticky or strange or sometimes kept tearing up all over again even after we’d stop saying anything worth tearing up over. ------------------

It happened. I felt like I should have been more prepared, brought flowers or poetry or earned it through honored warfare. But it happened. I was wearing ripped jeans, a spotty t-shirt and my breath smelled like coffee. We were looking for Park’s lost earring along an overgrown hill she usually biked along.

I found it, one shiny red dewdrop in all that green. Park pointed at some clouds that looked like my last “abstract” tattoo. We lay back in the grass and let the sky pass overhead. She giggled and touched my wrist, side by side. I let her.

“Summer’s almost over.” I mumbled it first.

“Yeah?”

“You find your next step then, college girl?” I tried to keep my tone light. She turned to be on her side.

“Maybe.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Oh, you know. This and that.”

“That does not sound like a college-girl plan.”

“Maybe I’ve got other plans. Maybe I’ve got other priorities, huh?”

“Ridiculous.” A playfully push her shoulder. “A lousy seaside town really isn’t priority material. There’s only one bookshop you know.”

“Two thank you very much. And that’s not my priority either.” Her voice wavered.

“Are you going to share with the class?”

“Is the class ready?” She whispered and I turned toward her as well now, taking in her perfect round face and question-mark mouth.

“I have been.” I matched her whisper. I tremor from my center outward and hopes she can’t tell.

“Do you know what they say about moths?”

“What?” I gave a breathy laugh. It wasn’t what I was expecting. “I’ve heard of them.”

“They tell your fortune.” She was grinning in that way that put out a stool and reached up. “I used to cry a lot growing up, because some kids said that moths are just evil butterflies. I was sensitive and ran all the way home. I threw myself at my mom’s feet and threw a fit about how moths were just evil butterflies. They were just ugly, wicked versions of a good thing.”

“Evil? Well, I suppose you are rather sinister when you haven’t eaten.”

“Shut up. I’m telling you something.” She put a hand on my shoulder. I inhaled deeply and turned over in place to face her. Only the shallow breeze kept us apart.

“I’m all ears . . . though maybe not as many as you.”

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

“What can I say? The sun is adorable. I take after him.”

A finger ghosted over my cheek, tracing the arc of my cheekbone. “Well, you’re not so bad behind those headlights too. Some of us have good day vision you know. And good taste.”

I wished those words didn’t make my chest do funny things. “Thanks.”

“Do you want to hear what my mom said or not?”

“That you shouldn’t worry about evil butterflies?” I wiggled closer. “Because you’ll be really hot and funny and smart one day. So who cares if you’re evil?”

“Yeah, those were her exact words.”

“So?”

“So,” a firm hand took my chin. “Look at me.” I looked at her. I was glad she couldn’t see the flush in my cheeks in any way. “Moths show good fortunes she said.”

“Right. Lots and lots of good fortune.” I breathed, dumbly, of course. She was close and sweet and there was hair in her face. The fronds of her antennae tickle right past my ear.

“They can help you find good fortune. They’re good omens. You know why?” Park’s lips were barely moving as she spoke, hypnotic and unhurried.

“Why?”

“Because they follow the light.”

It happened all at once. Like every cheesy love poem or bad lyrics I wrote in my journals at night. It was every cracked-spine of a book using words like “rosebud lips” and every overdone song about people who find their way to each other.

I kissed her, leaning in with no life vest on or readied crash-landing position. She kissed me and my chest filled with her, breathless, drowning, soft as dreams and stranger than hope. I cradled her and she dragged me closer and closer until it was nothing but floods and brimming.

I’d been nothing before I think, I’d been an island that waits, a bus that leaves, a shadow that hides. And then I had been hers. ----------------- I was strolling home from work along the main road. The thin strip of sidewalk was streaked with bleached sunlight and the salt air was thick enough to burn throats. It was the long way home, but I was in the habit of going back to this corner.

The bus pulled up with little ceremony. It was an interstate one that crisscrossed over empty bellies of land. I stopped in place to watch, just in case, as I had many times before.

A silver head bobbed down the steps and planted herself on the concrete, unbelieving. She took an enormous noisy sniff of the air. “Not so bad!” She bellowed.

“Are you?” That wasn’t meant to be my first word. She was more stooped now and wearing shiny things on her wrist that clanked. She’d lost another tooth. “Mags.”

“Eh!” She yelled and waved frantically as if I hadn’t shot up another inch since I last saw her and started wearing clothes without holes in them. Her eyes sparkled as she tottered over. “So how’d you do, kid?”

“See for yourself.” I smiled. It was nice when the tides came back in. Mags gave me a thorough appraising. “Like this I guess.” I held up my hand. I wiggled my ring finger at her, heavy with a silver band and glittering opal.

“That’s my girl! Always knew you’d find your feet.” She cackled. “Am I too late to give you away, kid?”

I shook my head. She waddled over to me so I could take her hand. I took her home to show her my art and new tattoos, I showed her our terrible one-eyed kitten, Basket (Wicker’s son), and the little house we styled ourselves. I showed her our shoe closet and our queen bed, our messy kitchen and busted screen door. I showed her the moth tattoo over my heart, and Park showed her the matching lighthouse one over hers.

I tried to thank her, of course, I tried to say I owed her more than she knew for picking up an angry, dirty kid and seeing something in her. I owed her everything. But she just patted my hand and said that it’s not about our debts in life, kid. It’s about the becoming.

-----------

If you enjoyed the story please consider donating to my ko-fi or supporting me on patreon (even a dollar helps!), check out my Sapphic fantasy book as well!

[prodigaldaughteralice]

Hello ProdigalDaughter !

Thank you for naming your tumblr on your AO3!

I had another dream about beloved blorbo Creed and needed to let you know.

In this dream, something interrupted Belos whilst he was murdering Creed, enough that he had to leave temporarily. Creed managed to get to his staff and get away, but he passed out before he got further than Darius’s chambers/apartment (this bit was kinda unclear). Darius walks in and sees his bf bleeding out on his carpet and proceeds to freak out.

The dream had a timeskip after that and it moved forward to Creed relearning how to walk with Darius (because of his messed up legs). Darius had a peacock palisman and was lending it to Creed whilst they talked about finding Creed one. I think his was a canid of some sort, but that bit wasn’t clear either. Due to his inflicted injuries, Creed’s voice and legs were permanently damaged, so him and Darius talk in sign, including the tiny little mini abominations.

The dream ended with Darius spotting Hunter and having the same reaction as in the fic canon, until Creed tells him “There was never anyone else, Darius, I promise. Only you.”

And then the dream ended.

Sorry for the ramble, I just thought you might like to know.

Hope you feel better soon, and get plenty of rest,

Gerald.

Hi there I want you to know that you are absolutely making my goddamn day, you seem to have seen my post about being sick but yeah I have a high fever (down from 101.3 to only 99.8 now!) and I’m trying to get my finals stuff done at the same time and this has just absolutely made me so happy. So goddamn happy aaaaa

I love the idea of Darius with a peacock palisman, that suits him so well!!! I love that omg. And I’m such a sucker for the whole slow recovery from injury/adaptation to disability with the help of a loved one thing, I was convinced through most of the midseason hiatus that Raine was going to have significant atrophy from being stuck in Kiki’s cocoon. What a wild dream to have had, thank you so much for sharing with me!!!!

Silver and I have talked a bit on discord about a Self Indulgent AU in which Creed escapes from Belos and somehow ends up stumbling through the door into the Human Realm but then can’t find his way back, and he ends up wearing hats or sweatbands all the time to hide his ears, and he gets a job in a local restaurant in Gravesfield, (he’s worried they won’t hire him because of his hands, but they kind of just look at this massively scarred-up guy with blatant PTSD and no papers and go ”yeah you’re good we’ll get somebody else to do the delicate work” and he slowly learns to cook human food and by ten years later it’s his restaurant, where there’s much less employee turnover than most because he cares about his employees and makes sure they’re paid well and also won’t stand for anybody being assholes to them. He has an (uncropped, undocked) doberman as a therapy dog and Camila vaguely knows him due to her checkups.

The reason I share this is that this morning Silver suggested the kids ending up at Creed’s restaurant after the s2 finale and I wrote a thing and it seems appropriate to share it since you said such nice things <3

——————————————————————————————————

They’d been to the restaurant a few times before they actually saw him. The food was good and they could afford it on summer-job pay; why wouldn’t they? When they did see him, the almost-identical stranger wandering out of the back to check on something, eyes had locked, and there had been a moment, and then Hunter had run. Just got up out of his chair and left the restaurant in a total panic. Gus had gone after him, and the stranger had hurried away with a baffled flush across his face. When their food had come, there was also a piece of cherry pie that no one had ordered and wasn’t on their bill, and a couple of take-away boxes. Willow had carefully transferred her, Hunter, and Gus’s food into them, along with the pie, and gone after the boys, Clover flitting ahead to find them and lead her.

It had ended up being a very, very weird date for Luz and Amity, left behind.

They did come back. The others were ready to avoid the place like the plague, if that was what Hunter wanted, but he said he did want to go back, so they did.

They went a little after lunch rush on a Thursday, so the place wasn’t roaring, but it wasn’t empty either. The waitress told them to sit anywhere they liked, so they found their way to a six-top and positioned themselves around it, Hunter at one end, the others at either side. The waitress handed them menus, smiled, asked if she could get them anything to drink, and it wasn’t in any way weird that she disappeared into the back to get those (two lemonades, a cola, an iced tea, and a tomato juice) but it still felt very much like she was going to fetch the stranger.

Which maybe she was, since he emerged not long after.

He looked tired but gentle, a purple fleece beanie pulled down hard over his ears, brow raised in concern. He put a hand on the back of the unoccupied chair, across from Hunter, and waited until he got a nod from him before sitting down. He didn’t quite meet their eyes at first, none of them, looking down at his hands, latex cook’s gloves not quite hiding his crooked fingers or the way they trembled. Hunter sat still as one of the statues outside, staring, waiting, not ready to speak.

“Hannah-Marie scolded me for not telling her I had a son, after you kids came in last time,” the stranger said, and his voice was painfully familiar. “I tried to say I didn’t know what she was talking about, but she saw the way we both— I ended up saying you were my little brother. Hadn’t seen you in a while. But I think—” and here he raised his head, met Hunter’s eyes with his own, that same colour, one mangled lid that it took real effort not to visibly wince at— “I think you can tell me better than anyone.”

Hunter swallowed. Simultaneously, Willow and Luz reached over to put comforting hands on his knees under the table, and he nodded.

“I think… my uncle might have also been your uncle.” He hesitated, searching for the words, for a way to be more specific without saying things it was still almost impossible to say. He settled on tilting his head a little, brushing his thumb across the scar on his jaw, as if to say this was him, he did this.

The stranger nodded.

“I called him brother,” he said, “at least to myself. But I think you might be right.”

And he offered his hand to shake, across the table, and Hunter took it.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (April 12/2021) - 72 Hours

Quackity takes a trip down memory lane, recounting the events that led up to his visit to the prison.

---

VOD LINKS:

Ponk

Tommy

HBomb94

Foolish

Quackity

Badboyhalo

Karl Jacobs

Ranboo

Eret

Captain Puffy

---

- Ponk’s room in Niki’s city is decorated with posters of anime, his favorite people, pictures of Ponk and Sam next to each other, and his Enderman named Speed Wagon

- He wants to get a poster from both Foolish and HBomb

- Ponk waits at the Community House and Foolish boats in.

- Foolish notices Ponk’s stump, not knowing what it is at first. Ponk tells him that “Sam happened,” and Foolish replies that Ponk needs to get Sam out of his head. Ponk then tells him that he’s been taken into a communist cult, and that he’s missing an arm, and it oozes red stuff. Foolish freaks out.

- Ponk remarks that Foolish has a good sense of style, and he would like to commission something. He leads Foolish to the city. Foolish asks about his arm again, and Ponk says he’ll tell Foolish about it in time.

- Foolish says at least Ponk seems to be in good spirits. Ponk says that it’s because of the medication that Niki gave him. The salmon in his roof produces a drug that makes him happy.

- They mess around with the posters in Ponk’s room some. Ponk mentions that Sam took his arm, and Foolish is shocked. Ponk’s said too much. He wishes Foolish luck and says he’ll pay him well later before leaving Foolish to the room.

- Foolish says he knew Ponk and Sam were on rocky terms, but it’s a bit much of Sam to take Ponk’s arm...

- He puts a picture of himself in the shark outfit on Ponk’s wall and leaves to continue working.

---

LAS NEVADAS: EPISODE TWO

---

Two shadowy hooded figures ride on horseback across the wilderness. 

There’s a third who rides a skeleton horse. 

They approach Eret’s castle from the direction of Antfrost’s animal sanctuary. As they ride down the Prime Path, sirens can be heard in the background.

---

There is a montage of Quackity going to the prison each day, rain or shine. The waivers are shown, and Quackity’s name is signed.

On screen, the day numbers are shown as Dream runs around the cell, punching the air.

It starts from 2. At day 16, Dream is in the respawn pool as Quackity approaches. The numbers go up to 29.

-

72 Hours before The Visit

-

- Quackity rows to a remote island, where he meets Awesamdude. Sam is confused at how Quackity knew about this place.

- Sam has been busy farming in a small patch of land to get away from things. He started not long ago.

- There’s a gravestone with a disc and a jukebox dedicated to Tommy.

- Quackity tells Sam that Tommy’s death wasn’t his fault. Sam disagrees, saying it was his responsibility.

- Sam shows Quackity his beach full of turtles and his horse

- Quackity tells Sam that he’s a very caring person. Sam shows Quackity his house. 

- Quackity then tells Sam that he’s not the only one who thinks Tommy’s death wasn’t his fault, but Dream’s. To accept that is the only way to move on.

Sam: “I could’ve done something, Quackity. I could’ve...I don’t know. I could’ve done something.”

Quackity: “No, you know what you could’ve done? You could’ve gone back into that jail cell and put a sword right through his neck. That’s what you could’ve done, Sam. That’s what you could’ve done to Dream. Because guess what, Sam? this isn’t the first time he does it, and this isn’t the last time either. Sam, look at me...the only way he’s gonna stop this is if you get rid of him, Sam. That is the only way.”

- Quackity says they should do it right now. They go back into the house and Sam activates a secret door with a potato, leading down into a basement full of weapons and armor. They head out in boats as Quackity encourages Sam to do it.

Quackity: “Feel that fury in your fucking heart, Sam, and know that’s all because of Dream. Let’s go. Let’s go, Sam. It’s all because of Dream.”

Sam: “You’re right! I couldn’t do anything! Dream would’ve killed him anyways if I had gone in there, there’s nothing I could’ve done!”

Sam: “I can just kill him! I can just murder him! He can’t get away, he’s stuck in there, he has nothing! He’s so weak! This is the perfect chance! I can just murder -- no one would even need to know that he died! I can just say he was still locked up there, I could -- yes -- you’re right, and if I kill him no one will die! I don’t want any visitors already!” 

Quackity: “Exactly! No visitors! No visitors, Sam! No visitors, no one’s allowed to see Dream ever again, it’s a secret between you and me, Sam...we’re not gonna tell anyone. As far as we’re aware, Dream is in that prison, and no one’s allowed to visit him ever again because he committed that crime against Tommy. Guess what? no one’s even gonna wanna see him, Sam, nobody! Because he killed Tommy, and everyone’s scared of him. But guess what? You and me, we’re not gonna be scared, Sam, because we know Dream is going to be fucking gone.”

Sam: “‘Cause he’s stuck in that cell anyway! There’s nothing he can do! We could kill him, and when he’s a ghost, I could go in and kill him again! And kill him again! And kill him again! And kill him again! And I can kill him a thousand times for the one death he gave Tommy!”

“Do you wanna come with me? You wanna help me do it? You can hold him down, and I'll chop his head off! We can kill him just like that, and there’s nothing he can do! Yes! He can just cry, and scream, and he’ll die -- I wonder if he’ll laugh now!”

- They reach the prison entrance and enter the portal. Quackity tells Sam that this is all for Tommy, and it’ll make him feel better.

- Before they can go through the defenses, though, Sam hesitates and starts having doubts.

Sam: “Quackity, we can’t kill him! That’s the whole reason we put him in here to begin with! Tommy trusted me to keep Dream in here! And now Tommy’s -- Tommy’s dead, I can’t do this to Tommy! Tommy trusted me, and he might’ve died, but that doesn’t mean we can let this happen! No, no! Tommy would want us to keep him locked up! The whole reason we locked him up was -- if someone else dies, Dream’s the only one who can do anything about it!”

“I can’t ruin what I promised to Tommy more than once.”

- Quackity says this is his chance at redemption, but Sam insists they can’t kill him. Quackity stops and then says he’s sorry he got ahead of himself. Quackity goes to leave, but then hesitates and goes back to Sam one last time.

- One way or another, someone will have to do it. If not Sam, Quackity. He reminds Sam that Tommy’s death wasn’t his fault.

Quackity: “Sam, before I leave...you gotta get it together. Las Nevadas will have no place for emotions, or for any personal ideas that you may have, or feelings, Sam. If you’re gonna be my business partner, you gotta do more than this. Understand?”

“I’ll talk to you soon, Sam.”

- Quackity leaves.

-

48 hours before The Visit.

-

- Quackity is speaking with someone. He thanks someone for giving him the spot, telling them that they can’t tell anyone about it. 

- Quackity is near Fundy’s house. He digs straight down into the ground, landing in an underground area made of nether brick. It’s an extensive series of hallways. Quackity has a bunch of TNT.

- He finds the Egg Room and starts putting TNT around the Egg.

- He notices Bad and Punz approach and backs into the area behind, brandishing a redstone torch. Bad warns him not to do it.

- Quackity tells Bad that he doesn’t need the Egg, he knows that there’s still a part of Bad that isn’t doing this, and that they can work together.

- Bad replies that if Quackity gets in the way of his mission, he won’t have anything. 

- Rat starts barking. Quackity says he’s doing this for Bad.

Punz: “Bad, don’t let this guy manipulate you.”

- Quackity shouts that he’s going to light it up and places more.

Quackity: “We’re all gonna go. I’m doing this for your own, Bad! I’m doing this for your own good!”

Bad: “You’re doing this for yourself, Quackity! I need this! I need the Egg!”

- Quackity gets Bad to order Punz away and keeps negotiating with Bad. He tells Bad that before the Egg, Bad was one of his closest friends, and in order for them to do great things together, Bad has to let go of the Egg.

Quackity sets off the TNT. The explosions go off, and the Egg turns to obsidian.

---

On one heart, someone slowly makes their way through the burning remains of the nether brick area, holding a single redstone torch as the Egg whispers. 

HOW DARE YOU TRY AND TAKE THIS ONE FROM ME.

YOU WILL SUFFER FOR THIS.

HOW DARE YOU TRY AND TAKE THIS ONE FROM ME.

They stumble down the hall and the screen goes black.

-

24 hours before The Visit.

-

Quackity rides Boner down the Pogtopia highway.

He pauses at Tommy’s summer home, looking at the prison, and rides down.

- He notices George standing at the entrance, looking towards the portal. The two have a happy reunion. Quackity asks him why he’s here -- George says he’s just chilling.

- Quackity hasn’t seen George in ages. George is surprised by the scar on Quackity’s eye.

- He shows George Boner, who he has renamed to Ossium.

- He asks what George has been up to. It’s been ages since he’s seen George, Karl or Sapnap.

- Quackity tells George that he’s taken a break from El Rapids and has been working on a new project called Las Nevadas, a country full of casinos. An entertainment haven. He wants to set up a meeting with George, Karl and Sapnap about getting them all casinos.

- George asks, what about Kinoko Kingdom? Quackity doesn’t know what that is. George tells him, and says that Karl said he told Quackity about it.

- Quackity wasn’t told anything about this. He asks how long ago. It’s been a while.

- Quackity thought they had El Rapids going. It’s been hard to get in contact with them. George says he can still join.

Quackity: “I was working on this project, and I wanted to p-- no, no no, you’re...that makes sense. That explains so many things.”

- George tells him the direction that Kinoko is in. Quackity asks if they aren’t a part of El Rapids anymore. George says he supposes they can’t be in two countries at once.

- Quackity asks George not to tell anything to anybody about Las Nevadas. It will open soon, but he wants all the details to remain between them. As far as George knows, it’s just a country with entertainment.

- He says goodbye and leaves, telling George to say hi to Karl and Sapnap for him.

---

There’s a shot of Eret’s tower.

The Socializing Club and Purpled’s Walmart.

The old remodeled Community House.

The cobblestone version of Tommy’s house with the spruce trees around his land.

Skeppy’s original blackstone house with the three-door entrance.

Ze Haus.

The Spawn trap.

The camera pans up to a view of L’manburg, with blackstone walls, and the rebuilt Camarvan made of dirt.

The Elton John House and Space Program within the walls.

King’s Court.

It’s the Election Debate, Quackity and George arguing with Wilbur and Tommy.

---

- Quackity is out on a walk with Wilbur. He wants to know more about Wilbur. He asks why Wilbur has done the things he does.

- Wilbur tells him he wants protection for his people. Quackity asks to talk to Wilbur off the books. He wants to talk to Wilbur not as politicians, but people.

Wilbur: “Um, I mean I appreciate it -- No. The election’s in twelve days.”

- Quackity insists, and Wilbur says he’ll try.

- Quackity says he appreciates the Wilbur is trying to protect his people, and he doesn’t aim to overthrow him. 

Quackity: “None of this is about fighting to me. I think there’s just a big difference between you and me, and I like to see the good side on people. I like to think that there’s a side of everyone that is willing to work for wanting to see a better future for everyone, and I think that’s where you and I are very, very different.”

“See, when I got here, when I got to these lands, and I wanted to join L’manburg, I was told I couldn’t. I was told to walk away because I wasn’t allowed to join L’manburg. And to me, that was a lack of belonging. And if I have to become President and tear down some walls in order for no one to ever feel unwelcome again, then so be it. I do believe that everyone has a good side to them, and I do believe that everyone has something to contribute to the nation.”

Wilbur: “Your aspirations of optimism are not going to be subject to my nation’s security, I’m afraid. I -- I completely disagree with everything you said...”

“You say everyone has a good side, Quackity -- and you’re right. You’re right. Everyone has a good side. But that good side is only there to help themselves. If you’re really gonna help people, you’re gonna need power, Quackity. You can make a movement, you can make a resistance, right, you can go out and you can come back, and they’ll give you a ticket-tape parade. They’ll cheer for you in the streets, but you will change nothing. If you have a revolution, everyone will hate you. You will sacrifice everything, and you will lose everything you ever had, but you will come back and everything will be changed. And Quackity, if you wanna change things, you’re gonna need power. That’s what you really want, isn’t it. Look at me..”

“And power isn’t gained from diplomacy, and bureaucracy, and giant courthouses suspended in the sky, blah blah blah -- it’s gained from swords, Quackity. It’s gained from blades. It’s gained from steel. Iron. Even if everyone has this good side that you’re talking about, then anyone who wants to prove it has to show their dark side first. You’re going to have to kill. You’re going to have to torture. You’re going to have to maim. When I look at you, as a fellow outsider...you’re not ready for that.”

“I’m leaving.”

 - There’s a montage: 

Quackity watching as Schlatt destroys the White House the day he left to join Pogtopia.

The Mexican L’manburg Revolution, Quackity facing Dream outside Church Prime.

Dream destroying Mexican L’manburg.

Quackity facing Technoblade in the Final Control Room.

Dream and Quackity outside of Church Prime again.

“I understand that you -- that you wish to cause problems on the SMP, and that’s your number one goal. You are, by far -- you are the biggest enemy on the SMP right now.”

---

Present Day.

---

He’s at Wilbur’s resurrection shrine. There is a chest marked “For Wilbur.”

- Quackity writes in a book.

“My dearest friend, Wilbur...

You were right all along...

And I won’t make the same mistakes twice.”

- He signs the book “PROJECT NEVADAS” and puts it in the chest.

- Quackity rides off on Ossium and dons the black hood as the sirens sound.

---

- Bad sees the sign about concrete that Ranboo left at his house and assumes that it must be some sort of cryptic scavenger hunt. He and Skeppy go to try and figure it out by reading out the other signs throughout the server

- Skeppy eats part of Jonald

- Karl builds a Party Island in Kinoko Kingdom with Pokimane

- Ranboo gets a wither named Logan to mine for him

- Eret works on their fortress

- Captain Puffy does a late night stream and does some mining

---

Upcoming Events:

- The Red Banquet

- The Las Nevadas business opening

- Dream’s lore video

- Ranboo’s lore (April 23)

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Dream SMP’s one-year anniversary

[engie-ivy]

Another story for my candy heart fix from @goodboylupin and the Candy Hearts Challenge! Humour, lots of shameless flirting and a fed up Regulus.

Candy heart message: CRUSHIN'

Regulus has agreed to tutor a classmate in statistics, but quickly comes to regret his life choices when the only chance the guy seems interested in, is the chance of getting to snog Regulus’ older brother.

“You want to snog my brother!” Regulus points his pen accusingly in Remus’ direction.

Remus huffs and straightens his back. “In my defence, your brother is very snogable!”

Part one: Crushin'

Part two: Fallin'

What chance do I have? Part one: Crushin'

REGULUS BLACK: You can come over. My parents aren’t home.

REMUS LUPIN: ??

REGULUS BLACK: Oh my god. That sounded wrong.

REGULUS BLACK: I meant for the tutoring session.

REGULUS BLACK: I know my parents’ reputation. I thought you’d feel more comfortable coming here knowing they aren’t home.

REGULUS BLACK: I am NOT trying to hook up with you.

REMUS LUPIN: Oh thank god.

REMUS LUPIN: Not that you’re not an attractive guy.

REMUS LUPIN: I just don’t see you like that.

REMUS LUPIN: And I mean, you’re probably a bit young for me.

REGULUS BLACK: Lupin.

REGULUS BLACK: Please shut up.

Remus drops his phone on his bed with a shudder.

He’s not a bad student. He knows all about history and writes killer political essays. He’s just terrible with numbers, but he needs to pass his statistics course.

Regulus is a quiet guy, but he’s nice enough. Rumour has it that his parents are these excessively pushy and high-demanding lot, who bully their children to do nothing but study and threaten the school into letting them skip grades. Apparently, they want their eldest son to become the youngest doctor in town, and their youngest son the youngest lawyer, just so they can brag about their advanced children to their posh friends. They’re lucky both their sons are actually very intelligent. Regulus is in Remus’ class, despite being much younger, and they say his older brother, who should be somewhere around Remus’ age, is already in college.

In any case, Regulus won’t pass up the opportunity to earn some extra credit by tutoring Remus in statistics over the summer.

The house of the Black family is exactly like Remus would’ve pictured it. Very old-fashioned, with weird, old objects everywhere, but while some houses packed with old stuff seem warm and cosy, the Blacks’ house just seems cold and dark.

Remus is sitting at the kitchen table watching Regulus flip through textbooks, talking about how they’ll start with refreshing his knowledge on basic chance calculation before moving on to z-scores and significance tests.

Remus is already bored.

Suddenly, a tall, muscular, slightly sweaty guy barges into the kitchen. He’s wearing running shoes, shorts and a t-shirt that clings to his form and shows off his broad shoulders. As good as the shirt looks on him, Remus isn’t complaining when he takes it off, revealing his well-trained torso.

“Jesus, it’s warm outside,” the guy says, dropping the shirt on the floor while pulling the hair tie out of his hair and letting it fall in dark waves across his shoulders. He grabs a water bottle out of the fridge, and throws his head back to drink, spilling some water that drips down over his chest.

As Remus not very subtly ogles the guy, he wonders whether statistics was so boring that he zoned out and is now in some sort of hormonal teenage fantasy. Well, he hopes that if that were the case, he would’ve at least not fantasized Regulus sitting there, glaring from the guy, to Remus, and back to the guy.

“Sirius!” Regulus eventually snaps. “We have a guest.” He gestures at Remus.

The guy, Sirius, who must be the older brother, turns his head and only now spots Remus sitting there. He smiles sheepishly at him. “Oh. Hi.”

“Hello,” Remus says, and they just look and smile at each other for a while.

Then, Remus leans his head on his hands, giving the guy a sweet smile. “So, do you come here often?”

Sirius blinks at him. “Eh, yeah. Yeah, I do. I kind of live here.” He quickly recovers himself. “What about you? You’re a classmate of Reggie? You must be new. I don’t recall seeing you when I went to school there, and I definitely would’ve remembered a face like yours.”

Remus grins. “Yes, my parents moved around a lot, so I went to a lot of different schools.”

Sirius raises his water bottle. “Well, here’s to hoping you’ll stick around this time.” He takes a swig and then grins. “And hoping you’re so bad at... statistics, was it? That you’ll be coming around here more often.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Remus says, looking up at Sirius through his lashes. “I’m bad. I’m very, very bad.”

A slight flush appears in Sirius’ neck, but the grin stays in place. “Good. Then I guess I’ll be seeing you. I’ll try to keep my shirt on next time.”

“Don’t trouble yourself on my account!” Remus calls after Sirius as he leaves the kitchen.

As he stares through the window at other side of the house into the backyard, where Sirius has gone to stretch, Remus can feel Regulus’ eyes burning on him.

“What?”

“You want to snog my brother!” Regulus points his pen accusingly in Remus’ direction.

Remus huffs and straightens his back. “In my defence, your brother is very snogable!”

Regulus shakes his head. “What is it that people see in him?”

Remus points towards the backyard, where Sirius is just bending over to stretch the back of his legs. He doesn’t think he needs any more explanation.

Regulus groans.

The second tutoring session, Sirius walks into the kitchen in low-hanging sweatpants, clearly just out of the shower, with damp hair and a towel around his neck, again shirtless.

He smiles as he sees Remus. “How is it every time I see you I’m not wearing a shirt?”

“I guess I’m just lucky?” Remus suggests.

“I know chance calculation isn’t your strong suit,” Regulus says without looking up from his book. “But considering the fact that Sirius walks around shirtless ninety percent of the time, you don’t need much luck. In fact, it would’ve been more impressive if you saw Sirius with his shirt on.”

Remus lets his eyes wander over Sirius’ muscular chest and abs. “I highly doubt it.”

Regulus’ eyes snap up as Sirius sits down on the kitchen counter. “No. You. Out. Now.”

Sirius raises an eyebrow. “You’re kicking me out of my own kitchen in my own house? I’m not disturbing you.”

“Lupin has enough trouble learning anything as it is, without you sitting there making eyes at him, turning his brain to mush.”

Sirius glances at Remus, who just shrugs. Regulus isn’t wrong.

The third tutoring session is, to Remus’ disappointment, at his house. He’d wanted to protest, but Mr and Mrs Black are apparently back from their business trip, and shamelessly flirting with Regulus’ hot, older brother in front of their strict, high-society parents seemed a little awkward anyway.

When Remus opens the door, a disgruntled looking Regulus immediately pushes past him and strides into the house, leaving Remus looking at a brightly smiling Sirius.

“Hi! Regulus wanted to ride his bike here, but you know, it’s probably going to rain, so I thought it better to give him a ride in my car instead.”

Remus looks up at the clear blue sky with the sun shining brightly, not a cloud to be seen anywhere.

“I see,” Remus says. “And I suppose you have to give him a ride home as well?”

“Yes, definitely.”

“And it’ll be a lot of trouble if you have to drive all the way up and down again.”

“So much trouble indeed.”

“The best thing is probably for you to just stay here.”

“That sure seems like the best solution to me.”

For the fourth tutoring session, Remus has lost track of time sitting at the kitchen table at the Black family home, drinking tea and chatting with Sirius. Remus is telling him about all the different places he has lived, and Sirius is telling him what it’s like to be in college at his age.

REGULUS BLACK: What’s keeping you?

REMUS LUPIN: ?

REMUS LUPIN: I’ve been at your house for like more than an hour, waiting for you to come down from your room?

“You said you’d let me know when Lupin got here!” Regulus points a finger at Sirius.

Sirius blinks innocently at him. “It slipped my mind. I have such a bad memory.”

Regulus rolls his eyes. “You know the Latin name for each part of the human body by heart!”

“Did you know Remus wants to study history?” Sirius says, not very subtly changing the subject. “Won’t he just make the cutest professor?”

“Not so much as you’ll make the hottest doctor!” Remus replies.

“Yes,” Regulus says, while placing his books on the table. “I’m sure the scientific community and the world of medicine will be greatly benefitted from your good looks.”

Remus sighs.

Sirius has just gone upstairs after Regulus threw a book at his head when he interrupted his explanation for the fifth time, distracting a very willingly-distracted Remus with cute dog videos.

Remus sighs again.

Undeterred, Regulus keeps on talking about some jar of marbles out of which Remus for some reason only wants to take the red ones.

Remus sighs again.

“Is there any chance you’re going to stop doing that if I keep ignoring you?”

Remus shakes his head, and Regulus drops his pen and looks up at him. “Okay, what is it?”

“I don’t think I want to snog your brother anymore,” Remus says.

He had expected Regulus to be relieved, but instead something fiercely protective flashes over his face. “I swear to god, Lupin, if you were just leading him on all this time...”

“What? No!” Remus quickly says. “I just mean that I don’t want to just snog your brother anymore. I think I actually like him! Like, like like him! I think I have a crush on your brother! You know, the massive, won’t-go-away-on-his-own kind.”

Regulus just stares at him.

“I mean, at first I just thought he was incredibly hot, funny and charming,” Remus continues. “But now I found out he’s also clever, sweet and caring!” Remus’ tone makes it sound like it’s the worst betrayal he’s ever experienced.

“And this is a problem how?” Regulus asks.

“He’s in college!” Remus exclaims. “He’s probably just looking for a fun summer flirt to pass his time before school starts again, and now he has ruined me for other men forever!”

Regulus pinches the bridge of his nose. “Lupin, I know you’re terrible at chance calculation, so I’m going to put this in words even you can understand. The chance of my brother being into you is one hundred percent.”

“Really?” Remus’ face brightens.

Now it’s Regulus’ turn to sigh. “I never thought I’d ever be saying this, but I’ve had enough. Lupin, will you please go upstairs and snog my brother?”

Remus knocks once and then steps into Sirius’ bedroom. He’s immediately backed up0 against the door by Sirius’ body pressing against him. Sirius’ arms wrap around his waist and Remus’ arms almost automatically wrap around his neck, so he’ll soon be able to finally run his fingers through that perfect hair.

Their faces are so close together Remus can feel Sirius’ breath as he speaks. “Took you long enough.”

Part two

[isabellabrodar]

Rely on You✖️JJ Maybank✖️

word count: 1573

warnings: mentions of alcohol and drugs, death/loss

JJ Maybank x Reader; JJ Maybank x John B’s sister

Everyone in my family has left me at some point. My mother ditched us for Colorado when my brother and I were only three years old. John B took that pretty, hard but I knew we were better off without her. Caring for her children wasn’t really a strength of hers anyways, so we barely talk about her now.

Then our dad went away to find the lost gold on the Royal Merchant and never came back. This time the loss of a parent broke me. I didn’t dare hope that he was just stranded somewhere, slurping on a coconut and waiting until someone comes to get him and although his body never was found, John B and I silently agreed on moving on. Accepting that your dad died isn’t the easiest thing for two teenagers to do. So I tried to lose myself in school stuff and John B took over our household. I think it was just his way of coping with the situation, but it became annoying pretty quickly. Every time our friends came over, it seemed like he was trying to prove that he was taking care of me.

And then he died. Or at least we all thought he and Sarah did. But turns out they were alive the whole time and now everything can go back to normal. But losing almost everyone that you have learned to rely on hurts you in a way that cannot be undone.

I was gripping the red plastic cup tightly as I tried to make my way through the dancing and drinking crowd. My eyes were moving rapidly over every face nearby, searching for my brother’s hazel eyes and curly brown hair. But I didn’t see him. So I pushed further into the mass of people until I passed a group of Kooks, standing on the edge of the boneyards, seeming to be staring at a girl dancing her heart out only a couple of feet away. I usually would’ve said something to them but I just walked by, my breathing becoming quicker as I whispered John B’s name over and over again.

When I felt a strong hand grab my shoulder, I turned around in a quick motion.

“John B?” I said before I looked into clear blue eyes.

“No, Y/N. He left about five minutes ago with Sarah. They’re fine.” JJ’s voice was calm but his look was drenched with worry and his grip didn’t loosen up as my breathing slowed down a bit.

“Sorry, J. I…I just didn’t know where he was. I was…I am sorry.” I felt a small tear of relief roll down my cheek as the panic started to die down and JJ moved to put a strand of my dark brown hair behind my ear.

“It’s okay. No need to apologize, smarty. We’ll go home yeah? I’ll get Kie and Pope.” I could hear a slight slur in his words, probably coming from more than just a couple of beers. Other than that he sounded tired and I knew that was my fault.

“No, J. I can get home by myself. Let them enjoy themselves, I don’t want to ruin the whole evening.” I put the empty cup on a rock wall next to me and straightened out my white summer dress. JJ looked me up and down once and then shook his head. I knew he wasn’t going to let me walk home alone after that panic attack.

“I’ll tell Pope that we’re going home. Meet you at the truck.” And before I could argue once more, JJ was already on his way over to our friends who were chatting with some other Pogues that I had seen before at school. So I went back into the crowd and saw that one of the Kooks from earlier was now dancing with that one girl and his friends weren’t staring anymore but looking around for something or better someone else to watch. I made my way over to my old truck, dodging several elbows and spilling drinks, while thinking about all the other times the panic had taken a hold of me and JJ had been there to help me.

Our friendship used to be very easy, I would say. We met through John B in third grade and have been inseparable ever since then. With the others we would go surfing almost every day but when it came to talking about serious matters, JJ and I usually kept to ourselves. Occasionally I had noticed the forming bruises on his cheeks or ribs whenever he came back from his house, but he always said it was nothing or an accident and I didn’t pressure him into telling me more, although I made it a point to come with him to his house as often as I could, so his dad wouldn’t get a chance to touch JJ.

And in return JJ didn’t ask about my nightmares that would wake me up every night after we thought John B and Sarah died. He’d move closer to me on the mattresses that we put into the living room for us four to sleep on. Kie and Pope mostly slept at their houses though, which was good, because then I didn’t have to explain myself to even more people. The problem is, that even after my brother and Sarah came back, the nightmares didn’t stop and I started having panic attacks when I felt like I lost them again. Just like at the party. And since JJ was the only person who knew about that, he felt obligated to take care of me.

This is pretty far away from us calling each other smarty and pretty boy, reducing each other to what people mostly noticed about us and never talking about anything besides parties, surfing and how many grams of weed we would need to get for the next tour on the HMS Pogue.

I grabbed a hoodie from the passenger seat of my truck and closed the door again when I heard footsteps approaching.

“You know I am fine. No need to deprive all these pretty girls from their favorite pretty boy.” I said in a mocking but tired tone whilst nodding my head towards the dancing crowd. JJ was now standing next to me, smiling.

“They can wait ‘till the next party. Let’s go home.” He held out his arm for me to loop mine around and then we started walking through the Cut. This kind of intimacy between us had become normal, but it never seemed to be anything besides friendship and we were both grateful for that. The summer air was cold on my legs and small goosebumps started to form on my skin.

“You really need to wear more… I don’t know, fabric I guess.”

“You sound like my dad. Or worse, like John B.” A small laugh escaped his lips as we made our way further along the street, arms still intertwined.

“I think you should talk to him about your nightmares.”

“And I think you should tell your dad he can rot in hell.” He let go of me and put a little distance between us.

“Damn, Y/N, I get it. Don’t talk to John B then.” It always came to this. Both of us telling the other what to do and to confront their problems, but we couldn’t do it and then we would get pissed off at each other, but that’s just the way our friendship worked.

We got to John B and I’s house a couple minutes later, which we had spent in silence. I opened the door and went straight towards John B’s room. The light was turned off already and I saw him and Sarah sleep peacefully. That’s when my heart beat finally went completely back to normal. When I stepped into the living room I saw JJ sprawled across one of the big mattresses. He was still wearing his clothes but that didn’t seem to matter to him.

“I’m going to sleep in my room today, J.”

He mumbled a quiet “ok” and turned his back towards me as I stepped past him.

I was standing on the beach and watched John B and my dad go into the waves on a small boat. Then thunder started and the heavy rain made it hard to see anything out on the ocean. There was lightning and then suddenly the sound of the thunderstorm stopped as I saw the lightning hit the boat that my family was on. Then they were just gone.

I woke up, breathing heavily with sweat on my forehead. My room was dark but I could hear quiet steps coming towards my bed. I scooted over to the side and started to relax as JJ planted himself next to me, still fully clothed. I laid back down and closed my eyes as the boy next to me but his arm over my side and started to calmly breathe onto my neck. This is something that has happened a lot the past two months. Always the same dream, the same horror in which I woke up and then JJ being there and helping me back to sleep just by getting closer. But this scared me. How can I let myself rely on him when everything that causes me pain comes from the people that I am closest to disappearing, getting hurt or leaving?

✖️Soo, I usually don’t write but I just wanted to try it. I know this is not a complete story or whatever and it’s kind of all over the place, but if you guys like it, then I might rewrite it or add more:)

[mintugiyuu]

> here’s the final part of your request @kyojoroo ! I’m so sorry it’s in two different parts, but I learned for the first time that these text boxes have a limit lmao, again I hope you enjoy and have a great day/night! <3

༄ we have to stop meeting like this - continued

sfw one-shot

➥ pairing || rengoku kyojurou x reader

➥ au || modern day; college

➥ warnings || cheesy, tooth-rotting fluff with extra cheese

➥ synopsis || the reader keeps bumping into the one and only rengoku kyojurou; only instead of just casually seeing him over and over again, they quite literally bump into him in the most inconvenient ways possible. (cont.)

➥ part one || click here!

༄ the mediterranean sea collection - masterlist

Today had to be one of the worst days in your life. Freezing, drenched, and newly homeless, you tucked yourself onto the bus stop bench. Lucky you, this one didn't even have an awning to protect you from the elements.

The rain had no pity for your predicament as it pelted your body, the light clothing doing close to nothing for you. Summer had just come, yet the night rainfall seemed to have brought an unexpected chill.

Not to mention the suitcase and duffle bag you had with you were now also getting soaked.

You could only hope nothing was too waterlogged.

Your hand did little to protect your dying phone from getting wet as you tried to search for the nearest place to stay. Motel, hotel, air B'N'B; anything in range to get you off the streets for the night.

You had a feeling this would happen, and boy were kicking yourself for not seeing the red flags and preparing sooner.

Not having enough savings for a dorm, you had signed a contract with the residents of an apartment to rent out one of the rooms for cheap.

The agreement only lasted for two semesters, but they had promised that you'd be able to renew it once summer rolled around.

"Promise my ass." You grumbled, remembering how the original owner had gotten a partner. In return, they refused to let you sign another contract so they would have space for the "love of their life".

You saw the signs; you saw how their stuff slowly moved into the apartment and all the time they were spending there.

You just didn't think they'd be shitty enough people to kick you out the moment your contract ended.

A gust of icy wind rolled through, causing another shudder to rack your body. The closest place wasn't in walking distance, and it was far to late for the buses to be running. Sighing, you shut off your phone and closed your eyes.

You had resigned yourself to walk the several blocks to the nearest 24/7 fast food place to at least get out of the rain.

That was until the rain fall suddenly stopped beating down on you. The rain couldn't have stopped though, you could still hear it. You blinked your eyes open and looked up, surprised to what - or more accurately, who - you saw.

"...Kyojurou?"

Standing there in all his warmth and glory, Kyojurou looked down at you with concern, holding a bright red umbrella over your soaked form.

He couldn't seem to help the small smile that graced his lips at the sound of his first name.

"I'd be happier that you finally used my name if you didn't look so sad and drenched."

A humorless snort escaped your lips as you hugged yourself, shivering slightly. "Timing always has my side doesn't it? I'm just about to head to the closest food place to get out of the rain, so don't worry about it."

"Why?"

"I got kicked out," you shrugged, looking to the ground.

"This late at night?"

"It surprised me too. They found a new roommate and wouldn't let me renew my contract for the next school year, and it just so happens it ended tonight." There was a hint of bitterness in your tone, one that was completely understandable.

Kyojurou's brows furrowed. "They didn't give you a heads up? A two week notice?"

"I'm just lucky they let me pack all of my stuff before I had to leave." You continued to look down at the ground, not seeing the way Kyojurou's face contorted ever so slightly.

He didn't get mad often, but whoever your old roommates are were now on his shit list

"Well that's a shitty thing to do," he stated bluntly, causing you to sputter and blink dumbly at him.

It's been almost a year since you've met the blonde, and in all that time you never once heard him say a single bad word.

"Did you just curse??"

He pretended not to hear, pulling out his own phone to see the time as you mulled over the fact that this sweet ray of sunshine just called someone shitty.

Expression neutralizing as he schemed, he turned back to you. "You don't have to stay in a fast food place for the night."

"Huh?? Are you suggesting I sleep in a box?"

The man smiled, resting a reassuring hand on top of your shoulder, frustration forgotten for now. "You can stay with me!"

"What now?"

Chuckling, he passed the umbrella off to you to hold, beginning to slip his arms out of the jacket he wore. "You can stay with me for the time being until you get back on your feet! Well, us. If you wanted to of course! Sanemi just moved out, so we're looking for a new one regardless."

Baffled at the sudden offer, you started to shake your head, forming the words to decline him. It was too big of a favor, how could you accept that?

He was one step ahead of you, as he always is.

"Before you say anything, no, it would not be any trouble, you're a joy to have around! We can settle the nitty gritty later, let's just get you out of the cold."

"Wait, Kyojurou," you were silenced by a heavy warmth that suddenly engulfed your upper body, including your sight. Moving the fabric from your eyes, you realized it was his jacket.

His once dry clothes was slowly becoming just as soaked as you were as he took back the umbrella, insistently keeping it solely above you.

The gentle way he smiled in combination with the light post that shined behind his head had you convinced he was your guardian angel in disguise.

You hesitantly pulled the jacket closer to your body, not being able to deny how relieving the warmth felt. "But, won't you be cold?"

"My insides are practically pocket heaters, it takes a lot for me to be cold. A little wind and rain won't do anything to me, I promise! Now come on, before you get sick," he insisted as he grabbed your bag, throwing them over his shoulder.

"Little" was an understatement, but you didn't have the energy to argue. It was the middle of the night and you could feel your eyes starting to droop.

Grabbing your luggage to role behind, you let the other wrap his free arm around your form, hand resting on your arm. "Thank you, truly I don't know where to start showing how grateful I am. I owe you big time."

"Never refer to me as Rengoku-san again and I'll call it even!"

A wobbly smile tugged at your lips as you leaned into his side, letting him guide you down the route to his apartment. "You have a deal then, Kyojurou."

The weather broadcasters warned everyone about heavy snowfall, but you couldn’t help but think they could’ve prepared everyone a bit more as you stared out your window and could only see the shadow of snow.

Thank the gods above it was winter break or they’d have to cancel classes, which would just be tuition money flushed down the shitter.

Your train of thought was interrupted by a knock at the door of the bedroom you were in, which was odd because the door was open.

Low and behold, it was your sweetheart of a boyfriend, holding two mugs and using his foot to knock. “I brought hot coco!”

"You don't have to knock, this is your room you dork."

"Our room technically, my dear." He responded smoothly, shutting the door with his foot behind him as he made his way to you.

"Careful not to spill it," he winked, laughing slightly as he handed you your mug.

"Just for that I should," you scoffed playfully, sticking your tongue out at him as you took the drink. The smile on his face was nothing but adoring, finding you to be adorable. You had to look away to dismiss the butterflies that swarmed in your tummy. “Looks like we’re snowed in for a bit. The snow is above the windows.”

Kyojurou hummed in agreement. “I still don’t understand how tiny snowflakes can become so damaging so fast!”

“You’re funny,” you chuckled, taking a sip of the hot beverage. Kyojurou always made the best hot chocolate.

“... UME! I’m glad I can be amusing!” You couldn't hold down the snort at the realization that he wasn't joking, swallowing and shaking your head. You granted him mercy and switched the subject.

“What are the others up to?”

Kyojurou leaned against the sill next to you, shoulder bumping yours affectionately. “Tengen is in the living room playing video games with his girlfriends, Mitsuri is watching a movie in her room and Obanai is watching with her. I think she's also painting his nails from the conversation I overheard while passing by."

“I see.”

The both of you were leaning against the window sill, basking in the comfortable silence. It wasn't common in an apartment full of unique roommates.

Even now you both could hear the loud victory cheer of Suma as Tengen groaned in defeat.

Taking another sip of your drink, you hummed, lifting your head to face Kyojurou. You were going to say something, but that was forgotten as you covered your mouth with your fingers as to not laugh suddenly.

"Hm? Is something wrong?" Your poor oblivious lover had a whipped cream mustache. He tilted his head at you - not unlike an owl - seemingly confused to your sudden shift in expression. You swallowed your laughter down as you placed your drink onto the sill, stepping closer to the blonde.

"No, nothing's wrong. You just have a little something rigghtt..." you reached out to grip his chin gently, swiping your thumb across his top lip to collect the whipped cream. "-there, all gone!"

A pretty, bright red color spread across Kyojurou’s face, wide eyes blinking owlishly at you with his mouth slightly agape. Laughing quietly at his reaction, you licked the cream off your thumb, patting the side of his cheek teasingly.

"You'll catch flies, hun." A click of teeth could be heard as he closed his mouth.

"RIGHT!" He stopped himself to clear his throat, turning to face the window as his usual smile reappeared, though a bit wobbly. "Thank you!"

All you did was hum, a slight mischievous smirk settling onto your face. You were set to happily go back to your drink when you shivered, the chill of the room finally reaching you through your clothes.

Kyojurou caught it from the corner of his eye, turning back to you. “Are you cold?”

You waved him off, shaking your head. It wasn't an uncommon occurrence, you'll just get another sweatshirt.

“I’ll be ok. The hot coco will warm me up in- WOAH!” That plan was thrown out the window when he suddenly scooped you up into his broad arms, smiling determinedly.

"You're not allowed to just continue on being cold, not if I can help it!" The firey man plopped you down onto your shared bed, quickly gathering the collection of fluffy blankets you have accumulated over time.

In the blink of an eye, you were neatly swaddled in said blankets and being held gently to your boyfriend's warm chest. He settled underneath the main blanket, wrapping his strong arms around your body.

“Is that better?” He beamed at you, looking oh so proud of himself.

What did you do to deserve him?

"Much," you all but groaned, snuggling your face into the warmth of his chest. It was like cuddling a big warm marshmallow. “I still can’t understand how you’re so warm.”

“I’m a living-breathing heater, my dear. I’ve explained this before, I’m sure of it.”

You snorted, leaning into his hand as he began to run his fingers through your hair. “I’m not complaining, you’re good to keep around for whenever my hands freeze.”

“I wouldn’t mind one bit," his voice came out softly, planting a warm kiss to onto your forehead. This in turn caused you to melt even further into him, burying your face into his shirt.

Kyojurou laughed with amusement as he turned on the television, looking for something for the two of you to watch for the rest of the evening. You eventually peaked your head out to look at him, wrapping your arms around his middle.

“Hey, Kyojurou?”

“Yes?”

All of his attention was on you. Even in these small moments he looks at you as though you're the most precious human being in the world. And to him, you were.

You hummed, placing a kiss onto his chin. “I’m happy I spilled my drink all over you.”

The small peck had similar effects from the whipped cream incident earlier, though he seemed to snap out of it quicker this time. He smiled brighter, cupping your cheek with his large, warm hand.

“That's an odd way of saying I love you."

This made you pause, the 'L-word' not being used between the two of you yet. “Wait, what?"

He gave you no time to question further as he placed a kiss onto your lips in return, his other hand finding the small of your back to pull you closer.

The initial shock of being kissed faded quickly, your arms finding their way around his neck as you pulled yourself closer. The kiss was short and sweet, yet the passion that Kyojurou lived by was always present.

The kiss came to a pause with you laying on top of his chest, remote forgotten and blankets wrapped around you as you steadied your breathing.

Kyojurou's eyes crinkled slightly with his smile, brushing the back of his hand across your cheek.

"I love you too."

[savnofilter]

Kinktober Day 1

dabi 

☠️ warning(s): 𝕙𝕖𝕒𝕥 𝕡𝕝𝕒𝕪, somnophilia, fingering, loss of virginity, con-dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 2.9k words [11 minutes, 40 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: dabi wanted to preserve you for as long as he could, until one morning your beauty was too much for him to just observe.

The sun's beams were what woke him up. His nocturnal nature surprisingly let him sleep in this time, the presence next to him making it possible for him. Not hiding the secret factor of Japan's summer heat doing him in as much as the rest of the league's humid rooms.

He rolled over to blatantly look at you, hiding back the feeling to smile at your peaceful slumber. His eyes scanned as you also fell victim to the hot heat, small amounts of sweat coating your skin. Dabi couldn't help but let his cyan orbs wander, the more his eyes traveled your body the more his mind started to race. He couldn’t help but feel like you were something sacred, the times you did ask him about certain topics lived rent-free in his mind. Most times, your questions were raised when the off-hand perverted comment was made  by Shigaraki with no filter, opening an opportunity for you to talk with Dabi about certain topics.

“You’d like to try it?” Dabi asks looking over at you, his head tilting to look at your face better and smirking playfully at your blush.

“I-I mean yeah! If you wanted… I know you have more experience in this stuff…” You ramble off, shyly hiding into his hoodie. “Just take care of me, okay?”

You two hadn't done anything… intimate yet. Most times Dabi had to teach you things, and the furthest you had ever gone was letting him touch and show you how to pleasure yourself to your embarrassment. As much as you showed disdain for not knowing as much as an adult your age knew, Dabi loved it. It was something about your innocence that always made him want to wait. To hear you beg for him to take you, to show you what other things you could learn.

His actions were teetering on the right and wrongs, his thoughts slowly but surely egging him on to move closer to you. Dabi was taking a heavy leap of faith, not wanting to lose a relationship over a loss of control. The bed moved a bit, the slight movement accentuating the subtle jiggle of certain places that made him smirk. His hand moved to carefully sweep any miscellaneous hairs on your face that either fell out of your bonnet or lost its way in your poorly done bun. 

His hand took a minute to rub your cheek, his free arm moving to support him on the pillow as his other hand ventured down your body. His touches were light, almost as if a ghost was touching human flesh for the first time in a while. His front had successfully pressed up against your back, his growing boner pressing against your underwear-clad butt. He felt you shift just a bit at the feeling, a small but mischievous glint coming to his face as your body unknowingly snuggles into his.

The forgotten hand now rested on your body, his unnaturally warm hand played with the bottom of your tank. His hand slipped under just a bit, his hand softly caressing your skin and letting his hold slowly make it up to your body. He didn't miss how your breasts strained against your struggling top, his hand not helping it either. His palms started to heat up, noting the way your body positively responded to the touch. 

His fingers grope one of your tits, playing with the bud of your hardening nipple. The feeling of your breast pressed against his palm was doing wonders to him; your innocent and sleeping form adjusting slowly to his soft and sensual touches. Dabi leans down to kiss at your neck, his other coming up to take its place with you playing with your chest, the other tugging down your underwear enough to expose your cooter to him. His deep groan comes from his chest as his left-hand heats up in fondling you, tugging the bud before rubbing the erect nipple. His right hand cupped your sex, his fingers testing the waters and pulling away from your neck to see your face. To his delight your face had increasingly softened, your lips now slightly parted and your brows scrunched just a bit at the sensation he was giving your nerves. 

Dabi decided to up the ante, using his middle finger to rub your clit. His eyes caught the way your hips moved to ride his digit, making the corporate decision to warm his fingers. Your breath slowly picks up in an aroused cycle, your untouched body not sure what to do with itself. He continued to rub your clit, observing once your cunt started to slick up and you had finally stirred from your slumber.

You had no proper words to start or explain the sensation you were feeling, the thing you could was let the sounds of pleasure leave your lips. “I -- haaaah…~” You breathed out. Your eyes looked up at his with a loveful lust, his cock twitching in excitement at the confused but trustworthy gaze in your eyes. 

“Good morning,” He starts teasingly, pressing his hips into your ass to emphasize his morning wood. “I hope you don’t mind, I couldn’t help myself~” He leans down to give your lips a peck, the familiar feeling of your plush lips against his making him softly moan. He lets his two fingers rub and tease your opening, moving his position to your side and having you lay on your back. His arm was back to supporting himself next to your head, his face merely inches away. “I’m going to put them in, okay?” He asks, his thumb never slowing to keep your hormones running.

“Please give it to me, Dabi, please…” You softly whine, thighs moving apart to give him room. 

He nervously gulps at that -- for what reason? He doesn’t know himself. It wasn’t like it was his facetime breaking someone’s innocence. The feelings of this going further than you two had ever anticipated rained in the back of his head, the very thought made him want to rush but also cherish this time. 

He leaned down to capture your lips in a kiss again, this time his fingers successfully being able to enter your needy cunt. His mouth ate up all your wanton moans, fingers slowly pumping in and out of your cunt to prepare you for proper comfort. His tongue invaded your mouth, your muscle desperately moving against his and falling submissive to his sensual and loving touches -- the feeling with a hint of deviousness you hadn’t encountered with Dabi yet. The movement was almost hard to do with your virgin cunt squeezing at his fingers, legs spread open for his fucking. His calculated fingers stroked your walls, the new sensation leaving you quivering already. Dabi couldn’t help but speed up his fingers, the erotic sounds of your cunt taking his thrusting making the experience much arousing for both you and him.

When he pulls away you both are light of breath, the room no longer hot but a heavy humid -- only an ambiance of sensuality running through the air. “You like it when my fingers are deep in you like this, Doll~?” He taunts you, smirking as you once again nod your head, one hand designated on holding onto his arm close to your head as the other clung to his snapping wrist that quite literally held your pleasure in the palm of his hand. He positioned his fingers to hit a bit deeper, the change of angle prompting him to hit a spot inside that you weren’t ready for.

A moan shrieked from your mouth as he does, thighs immediately moving to clench around his thighs. Much to his surprise, it was what took you to cum on his fingers. He watched in amazement as you tried to pull his unrelenting fingers away, groaning deep in his chest as your pussy sucked in his fingers, heating his thumb to give your thumb some more stimulation as he rubbed into.

“Dabi--!” You breathlessly called out for him, never mind the other tenants that housed in the building. The pleasure was too great and your body was moving on its own. “Baby, it’s t-too much hnngn~!” You tried to reason, your needy pleas falling on deaf ears.

Dabi was too drunk on your essence and visuals, he glared down at you once he realized your words. You knew the look wasn’t anything but mean, only serving the purpose that he was in charge. “Is it too much for you, babygirl?” He inquires, noting the way your pussy dripped and his fingers. “Can you be a good girl and take another one for me~?” He asks, slowing his fingers to let you catch a breath, his hot fingers still shooting bolts of arousal through your veins. 

For sure he knew he was pushing your limits, how else would he make this fun? Had you been any other simple person he wouldn’t be doing this. It was the desperation in your eyes that pulled him in, using his skillful hands to draw you closer and relish in the feeling of your cute thighs squeezing his arm for him to keep even though you were pulling it in.

Dabi had no mercy in stroking your g-spot, the one spot making you tense and the heat of his fingertips not helping any better either. He was pleased to watch your eyes roll back, a shiver running over your body as he urged another orgasm out of you. He slows down and mumbles reassuring words into your ear, pulling his fingers out slowly and watching as your slick drenches his fingers. He quickly gets up from his bed, getting a towel to clean you up. He holds his smirk when the rough but soft fabric brushes against your throbbing and sensitive clit, tossing the towel behind his back. He reaches over to give you your water bottle, helping you sit up a bit and holding your chin up to his careful hands.

He didn’t communicate anything as he helped you take a sip of water to calm you down, his gaze holding nothing but deep adoration for you. His heart hammered as he took in your panting state, hair now messy and face hot, the few strands of hair sticking to your skin. He hums in content once you hand him back the bottle, screwing the cap back on, and leans down to give your lips a peck before he rests the water bottle back onto its post on the nightstand. His hand moves to hold your cheek, his thumb rubbing your bottom lip.

“Do you think you can go further, or would you like a bath, Doll?” He asks gently. Your adoring eyes stared up into him, pondering on it before slowly nodding your head. He sighs softly, his hand coming up to grip your jaw and tilt your head at a better angle to look at you better. “I need to hear you say it, Y/N.”

“Please, use me as you see fit…” You ask just as told. His eyes only softened just a bit, wordlessly getting off and reaching over for his draws. You see him pull out a bottle that had the label as “lube”, your face scrunching up in mild confusion at it. You watched him get comfortable between your legs again, his hands coming up to get your tank top off leaving you embarrassingly exposed in front of him. You bit your lip as you watched him prepare, not having enough brain capacity to really ask him what is in the bottle when he finally whips out his dick. The question of wanting a condom is almost going over your head since you were so caught up on his erect dick. You had never seen one before, much less even thought about seeing it in a person or on technology.

It is sure as hell was intimidating. Dabi couldn’t have had a normal pecker, no. His cock looked almost 7.5 inches long and not too shy on the thicc side either. His impressive length curved upwards just a bit and his tip had precum at the tip of its head. Your eyes widened in surprise at the piercings on his length, the proud studs that lined up perfectly on the underside of his cock. You watched as he took a generous amount of the translucent liquid into his fist to get himself lubricated fully. You gulped as you witnessed him lube his cock up, his actions alone stoking you up for the next event's activities.

“What? You surprised doll~?” He teases once he’s done, using the remaining lube on his hand to lube up your already slick labia. You purse your lips to keep yourself from moaning out from the feeling, trailing your gaze up to his dark and lustful one.

“Y-Yeah… is it going to fit?” You ask worried, jumping once he carefully presses it against your opening. He pauses and grabs your thighs from the back of your knees and holds you open.

“I mean, it’s not supposed to hurt.” He says ‘reassuringly’, speaking to you as if the underside of his pierced cock wasn’t giving the lips of your cunt a wonderful massage. “If it ever hurts, let me know, okay?” He asks softly, nodding his head in affirmation before he pulls his hips back a bit to allow him some space to have his tip press at your opening once again. He aligns himself before carefully aligning himself. He slowly thrusts himself in, testing the waters and watching your face to see whether to continue or not. When he sees your confirmation he continues, his cock almost halfway in when he managed to grab a whimper from you. The sound was almost too magical for him, the sweet reward of obtaining his sweet, innocent, and beautiful girlfriend’s virginity. The sound makes him pause before he checks on you again and finishes the process with bottoming out. He buries his face into your neck to softly kiss at your skin once he’s fully in, prompting you to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

He lightly kissed at the old marks on your neck, moving to new spaces to bite and create new marks by sucking on them. Being the gentleman he is, he kept a regular pace for you until you gave him the go. As much as he wanted to demolish your cunt, he sure as hell didn’t want to tear it on his first time with you. So he did as said, starting from his comfortable pace before picking it up. Dabi had his hips angled so he could rub against your clit each time he rutted in you, the vibration of his growl against your neck made you shiver along with the feeling of his dick piercings massaging the insides of your cunt walls.

“Daabi ahh~” You cry out for him, your nails digging into the skin of his exposed back. The pain elicits a groan from him, his hips smacking into yours in response. His hold on your thighs was tight and strong, holding you up high and ready to be rawed by him this early in the morning. He smirks against your skin once he hears your loud and annoyed whimper at the feeling of his mark, his tongue unapologetic ally licking the spot to make it better.

At this point, Dabi was successfully bottoming out inside of you and it made you feel wonderful. You had no idea how to shut up from the sensations you were receiving and it did nothing but fuel Dabi’s ego. Your heels dug into the dip of his back, legs keeping him in close as he rides out his pleasure in you. Your cunt was impossibly tight around him and it was so very hard to keep himself from going all the way to his usual pace -- also keeping in mind the studs could just easily hurt you as well.

You didn’t take the time to warn him you were going to cum. The given factor of your sweet words slurring as you tried to catch yourself, head tilting against the pillows and body tensing up in hot pleasure. He watched as you finished on his cock, your erotic face spurring on his as well. Dabi was more skilled in pushing it back to draw yours out. His teeth bit at his bottom lip as he held back from cumming in you and pulling out last minute. His hand easily glided his cock as he eased himself to cum on your untouched and pure skin. A deep groan came from his chest, one short of a deep groan that sounded like a growl.

His white substance coated your skin and gave you a nice look, the sperm landing on your stomach and lips. Dabi smiled sweetly as you tried to catch your breath, your skin glistened with sweat and inappropriately displayed just for him. “I’ll run you a nice bath, you’ve earned it.” He leaned down to give your lips a loving peck as he carefully picked you up in his arms, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders and face nuzzle his neck. He makes his way to the shared bathroom that is connected to your room, his smile quickly changing into one of a mischievous grin.

He couldn’t wait to do more with you in the future~

[crybabykiko]

I just came across you nsfw with Osamu and I really enjoyed it I was wondering if You could do one for Kita?

Hi love! This is for u 💕 and all the kita fuckers worldwide- myself included bc I’m in love with him now 🥺

NSFW Alphabet - Kita Shinsuke

Nsfw below da cut g

gn!reader focus in this hoe

A/n: ty @honey-makki for being my partner in degeneracy and my wife ilysm bc she can read when I can’t

𝕬 - 𝕬𝖋𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖊

Will feed you a full meal. His way of making sure you’re cared for is keeping you well fed. He will cuddle you and spoon feed you himself if he has to, as long as you eat every single bite. He has a routine for everything, aftercare is no exception. He runs you a bath, then, while you soak, he cooks. Will make sure to throw a hoodie in the dryer before heading to the kitchen so it'll be warm for you post shower. Then he feeds you and holds you, playing with your hair or your hands until you fall asleep.

𝕭 - 𝕭𝖔𝖉𝖞 𝕻𝖆𝖗𝖙

You already know what the fuck is going onnnn! Kita is honestly so well sculpted that it really doesn’t matter but let’s talk about his back/shoulders. He’s so mf broad and it's very sexc of him. He’s also very fond of when you cling onto and scratch it up…. delicious

He loves your hands. He loves to hold them, especially when he’s looking straight into your eyes as he drills the hell out of you- he’ll lift one up and kiss it bc ✨romance✨

𝕮 - 𝕮𝖚𝖒

Oh he’s going to fill you so full of cum that it pours out of your ears. He has a big breeding kink, and huge loads to match. But he’s also very healthy and takes good care of himself so his cum isn’t bad on your tongue on the off chance he hasn’t already cum inside you 600 times prior to finally doing so in your mouth. And he’s going to kiss you after- very sexc of him.

𝕯 - 𝕯𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖞 𝕾𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙

Lost his virginity in a barn. Got a tick on his ass of all places. The barn isn’t the secret tho... the tick is.

𝕰 - 𝕰𝖝𝖕𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖈𝖊

When you got together- he was definitely a virgin. Had only gone as far as MAYBE second base. But you used that to your advantage, because you’ve essentially built him up and trained him to be PERFECT for you. You also helped him find out what he likes and what makes him feel good too. Sure there was a lil’ corruption involved, but in the end you’re both very happy with your sex life.

𝕱 - 𝕱𝖆𝖛𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝕻𝖔𝖘𝖎𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

Full on mf wrestling mating press. He’s going to have his cock so deep inside of you that if he even pushed a bit more his body is gonna go in too. Then he’ll just live there. He’s fine with that.

𝕲 - 𝕲𝖔𝖔𝖋𝖞

Unintentionally so. Every once in a while, you’ll both giggle or laugh because you have to reposition when you start to cramp up or you accidentally hit him in the face when tying to pull him closer or something. But he’s a firm believer in the whole “if you can’t laugh with the person you’re having sex with you shouldn’t have sex with them” addage, so he’s very grateful for those light moments.

𝕳 - 𝕳𝖆𝖎𝖗

It could definitely be neater. He isn’t abysmal, but he is hairy and could stand to trim a tiiiny bit more often. He’s just very low maintenance down there. As long as it’s clean he's good, which is both true and a decent place to start but pls tell him to get a little off the top of you know what I mean.

𝕴 - 𝕴𝖓𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖈y

He’s! So! Loving! He’s always going to go the extra mile to make you feel special. He likes to keep things on the softer side I’d say 8/10 times. He prefers to make love instead of just fucking it out- but if you get into an argument or he’s frustrated, he will happily go hard… but still with candles and a massage. Also I said it already but he’s gonna hold your hands while he demolishes you- interlaced fingers and all that cute shit even tho you’re getting railed.

𝕵 - 𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝕺𝖋𝖋

His grandma is one of those old ladies that’s like “don’t do that you’ll go blind,” so poor baby was a lil pent up before he got older. Now, he still doesn't do it often, but he does it once a month or so as part of his routine. He uses coconut oil because he likes the smell and that it melts easily.

𝕶 - 𝕶𝖎𝖓𝖐

Breeding, listen it’s just embedded in country boys to fuck and fill. He is no exception.

Spanking, moreso as a way to direct you. Moving too much? slap to stay still. Changing positions? Slap to get you moving. Just wants to see you jiggle? Yeah that too. Motivational slaps also come into play when he wants you to know you’re doing a good job.

Auralism, He LOVES to hear you. The sound of your breath, your moans, the way you chant his name when you’re close… he eats that shit up. It feeds his ego and boosts his pride. He also makes a lot of noise himself, mostly really deep moans but there’s a sprinkling of praise throughout too.

𝕷 - 𝕷𝖔𝖈𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He needs privacy. So he’s definitely one to want to keep it at home or at least somewhere secluded and away, where he knows only you and him are there and will know about it.

𝕸 - 𝕸𝖔𝖙𝖎𝖛𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

He doesn’t care how he does it, but his number one priority, is making sure that you cum. Kita is a giver. And he will make sure to give you whatever you want from him.

𝕹 - 𝕹𝖔!

He’s not into SUPER rough stuff. He’s not vanilla, but he is the kind of guy that sees sex as “lovemaking” so he’s not gonna punch you in the face or throw you around like a ragdoll. It’s just not his style. Of course if it's what you want, he will… but never expect him to ever bring it up or do so on his own.

𝕺 - 𝕺𝖗𝖆𝖑

Ok so- he's… teachable. I’m not gonna lie, he would start off as absolute trash. But the good thing about him is how adaptable he is, and how willing he is to learn. You’d have to have him work at it a lot but once he gets good he’s great. He’ll love the feeling of accomplishment he gets from you getting off with only his mouth- it does wonders for his pride.

𝕻 - 𝕻𝖆𝖈𝖊

It’s very even- until he starts to get close. When he’s close he’s going to speed up so much that you have to brace yourself against anything that’ll hold you. He is definitely a headboard grabber too.

𝕼 - 𝕼𝖚𝖎𝖈𝖐𝖎𝖊

He likes to take his time with you. For that reason, he isn’t a huge fan. You would really have to convince him that it's worth it. He doesn’t see the point in instant gratification, and thinks you should be patient. Good things come to those who wait and all that Kita stop being so stoic and rail me at the farmers market challenge

𝕽 - 𝕽𝖎𝖘𝖐

Lmfao you think this mans is really gonna go for a public or semi-public scene? Think again. Now, he’s into sex outdoors sure, but only in your fenced in, enclosed backyard. He’s not letting anyone see you point blank periodt, you’re for his eyes only.

𝕾 - 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖆

Excellent self control. He can hold off on cumming for as long as you need him to. Usually he’ll tap out himself after you’ve gotten through at least 3 of your own highs- but his record is 6. Has a super long refractory period tho- so he does things this way to make sure you get everything you need in one go.

𝕿 - 𝕿𝖔𝖞

He actually likes using toys on you. He has a bunch of different plugs and vibes that he uses to suit the situation. He prefers to use a hitachi wand on you while he’s fucking you, but all the others he uses for foreplay- or after to keep you full to the brim of his cum.

𝖀 - 𝖀𝖓𝖋𝖆𝖎𝖗

You both tease each other absentmindedly. He doesn’t know why he gets so turned on by you scrubbing the floor on all fours (that’s why), but he does. He also doesn’t understand why you think its hot when he cuts firewood in winter or wipes his forehead with his shirt during the summer. He thinks he’s gross and sweaty- but you can only think of a million other ways to make him sweatier.

𝖁 - 𝖁𝖔𝖑𝖚𝖒𝖊

Listen we stan. He’s not quiet in bed by any means, but he’s not overly loud either. He’s the type who takes deep breaths and then on the exhale let’s out a moan from deep in his chest- you know the one. And he does that shit on purpose. Not really, but he does think of it as his way of letting you know that he feels as good as you feel. Will also 100% hit you with the “is that it baby? Is that the spot?” While you’re practically turning into jello underneath him bc he absolutely knows that’s the spot he just likes to make you say it.

𝖂 - 𝖂𝖎𝖑𝖉𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖉

Wants to recreate the sex scene from tthe notebook with you. He can’t explain why, he just has an unexplainable urge to suck your face off in the rain and then proceed to raw you after peeling all the damp clothes from your body. Please oblige him.

𝖃 - 𝖃-𝕽𝖆𝖞

He’s got the thickness. Not coke Can thickness but like… you remember the Alaskan bull worm from ep of SpongeBob? Well he’s the whole worm, not just the tongue. I’m going to hell for that reference but ya he has a nice dick. The perfect thickness and and I’ll say a pretty good 5.5-6 inches worth. It’s also very veiny on the underside which- yes I love that.

𝖄 - 𝖄𝖊𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌

Normal sex drive, since you tend to do it at least 2 times a week. He only seems to get a little needier when you CAN’T have sex regularly- ie, one of you is sick or you’re away from each other. When that happens, he’s a little edgier than usual, can snap sometimes but not often.

𝖅 - 𝖅𝖟𝖟

He’s the type to get a second wind after. He’ll only go to sleep after he makes sure all your aftercare needs are met, and even then, he’s only going to power-nap it for maybe 10mins. He’ll stay still and cuddle you while you sleep, but he’ll most likely watch tv or scroll through his phone while you enjoy his warmth. Every once in awhile he’ll give you a kiss while you stir.

Taglist Starseeds (check ur privacy settings if your url is in bold): @honey-makki @crushzone @yumekosgamblingroom @boujiesav @onesingleravioli @ushijimasfarmhat @trouvelle @nekoma-hoe @right-shoe-jpg @atsumusc0ck @nivky0-0 @animoozies @charmarsmith @tsumue @disasteren @hoe4abbacchio @sillykittt @ukaisbaby

[anais-mitchell]

a comprehensive list of every never before seen hadestown lyric revealed in “working on a song”

Note: This list will not include any lyrics from the OBCR, Broadway previews documented in audios, the London run, the Edmonton run, or the NYTW run. Only lyrics that Anaïs has never revealed before. Also, I strongly recommend everyone actually read the book and support Anaïs! It has amazing insights into the show we love. 

(Also, any ellipses mean the song just goes into the lyrics we already know)

Wedding Song

In early Vermont productions, Wedding Song did not exist; there was another duet called Everything Written.

Fates: Seven Sisters / Little Dipper / Great Bear, Hunter / Drinking Gourd / Libra, Leo / Pisces, Pluto / Venus, Virgo / Capricorn

Eurydice: Don’t it make, don’t it make you feel so small? / Orpheus, when you look up at it all? / When I look into the skies / I lose my head for scale and size / And still you’re larger in my eyes / Than any star / You pull on me like gravity / I want to be where you are

They say that everything is written / Everything written in those stars / The very lives we’re living / The very love in our hearts

Orpheus: Who could write, who could write this kind if love? / From such a height, all these light-years up above? / And all these light-years down below / I don’t need any star to show me / What my heart already knows / Eurydice / You pull on me like gravity / I want to be where you are

Eurydice: Come here

Orpheus: I’m here

Eurydice: It’s so cold

Orpheus: So clear

Eurydice: It’s so dark

Orpheus: So fair

Eurydice: Come near

Orpheus: I’m here

Eurydice: You’re there

A workshop version of Wedding Song included this exchange:

Eurydice: You have a way with words don’t you? It’s too bad none of them are true

Orpheus: It’s not a lie- It’s poetry

Eurydice: How many mouths does a poem feed?

Epic I

From 2007 Vermont:

Orpheus: King of diamonds, king of spades! / First there was Hades, king of the dirt / Miners of mines, diggers of graves / They bowed down to Hades who gave them work /  And they bowed down to Hades who made them sweat / Who paid them their wages and set them about / Digging and dredging and dragging the depths / Of the Earth to turn its insides out / Singing la la la la la la la...

Then came Persephone, Hades’s wife / Our Lady of Shadows and Meadows entwined / Made to spend half of the days of her life / Right alongside of him down in the mine / But the other half she could walk in the sun / And the sun in turn burned half as bright / Which is where the seasons come from / And with them the cycle / Of the seed and the sickle / And the lives of the people / And the birds in their flight / Singing la la la la la la la...

So it was and it might have stayed / And the sun came up and the sun went down / A circle of fourths, a perfect cadence / The serpent’s tail in the serpent’s mouth / But the strong will take what they want to take / And the weak can only tell the tale / And the king began to lay his heavy hand upon the scale / What did he want? He wanted Our Lady / To have and to hold, not half, but wholly / To love him and never to leave him again / And as for the seasons, to hell with them! / And the earth warmed over in the dead of winter / The stillborn spring lay cold beneath /  Summer gave a stormy sermon / Autumn walked in the wake with a wreath / And the people moved like weather patterns / Looking for shelter, looking for warmth / Helter-skelter the four winds scattered / The scavengers over the ravaged earth / Singing la la la la la la la...

From a workshop, presumably pre-London:

Hermes: Orpheus was a poor boy / But he had a gift to give / There was one song he’d been working on / He could never seem to finish / A song about this broken world / That he rewrote again and again / As though if he could find the words / He could fix the world with them

Livin’ It Up On Top

From pre-NYTW workshops:

Persephone: A hundred sunny summer days / Till my lover comes to find me / A hundred blooming olive trees / And a hundred grapevines climbing / Singing songs when the sun goes down / Light the fire in the darkness / Brother, pass that bottle around / And we’ll raise a glass to the harvest, it’s / Just enough fruit for the pressing / Just enough wine to fill our cups / But what we have is a blessing / It isn’t much but it’s enough

Eurydice: A hundred starry summer nights / Since my lover came and found me / Picking fruit and hopping freights / With his music all around me / Stay up late making love / All the stars are naked / Talking sweet and sleeping rough / Our bed is where we make it, there’s / Just enough fruit for the pressing...

Way Down Hadestown

From when Anaïs was 21, long before the show was even a concept:

Follow that dollar for a long way down / Far away from the poorhouse door / You either get to hell or a border town / Ain’t no difference anymore...

Suckin’ on the gristle and chewin’ on the bone / Thinkin’ ‘bout missiles and the old Dow Jones / All alone on your chromium throne /And lonely, lonely, lonely, lonely...

From 2006:

Persephone: Though I’m happy at his side / He’s not an easy man to love / I used to keep him satisfied / But lately he can’t get enough / Never enough of the mine and the mill / Never enough of his working girls / Never enough of the wall he’s building / All around the underworld / Way down Hadestown...

Orpheus: Mr. Hades is slick as an eel / Fountain pen, crocodile shoes / Quick as a snake, and he’s hot on your heels / He’ll make you an offer that you can’t refuse! / Way down Hadestown...

Hermes: Speak of the devil and the devil comes / Here comes Mister Hades now / To gather up his chosen ones / And bring ‘em down to Hadestown / Way down Hadestown...

From 2007:

Hermes: Make room, make room for Hermes, sir! / Make a little room for Hermes, ma’am / They call me a messenger / But that ain’t half of who I am 

I’m a man of influence / I’m connected up and down / And  I got all the documents / You need to get to Hadestown / Way down Hadestown...

Tired of walking in your worn-out shoes? / Tired of running on nothing at all? / Tired of standing your bets to lose? / Tired of losing? Give me a call, we’ll go... / Way down Hadestown...

Orpheus: Mister Hades got an iron fist / Step outta line and he’ll have your head / In the blink of an eye, with a flick of the wrist

Hermes: Hang around here and starve instead!

Orpheus: It’s a cattle pen!

Hermes: It’s a feeding trough!

Orpheus: He’ll fatten you up just to cut you down! / I’d rather starve

Hermes: I’d rather stuff my pockets down in Hadestown! / Way down Hadestown...

Hey, Little Songbird

Anaïs says she tried out this line in 2017 to include a more explicit “job offer” in the wake of the MeToo movement:

Hades: Hey, little songbird, gimme a song / I’m a busy man, and I can’t stay long / I’ve got clients to call, I’ve got orders to fill / I’ve got millions of souls on my payroll, but hell / I could fit you as well if you wanted

When the Chips are Down

From Vermont, 2006:

Fates: Cross my palm! Grease my chin / Can’t you see the kind of shape you’re in? / What you gonna do... ?

Wait For Me

From Vermont, 2007:

(These exchanges intercut the chorus)

Hades: Hermes! / Hermes: Hades! / Hades: Back in town! / Please, sit down / Please, relax / You’ve been around the world and back / Haven’t you, Hermes? / Hermes: I have / Hades: How’s the weather? / Hermes: Worse than ever / How’s your wife? / Hades: My wife is fine / Hermes: You’ve been spending a lot of time together / Haven’t you, Hades?

Hades: What have you brought? / Hermes: The latest crop / Hades: The freshest cut? / Hermes: A cut above / Hades: How many of them, a lot? / Hermes: A lot / Hades: A few too many perhaps / What’s this? / Why have you brought me Orpheus? / I know I never ordered that / It seems you’ve gone behind my back / Haven’t you, Hermes?

Hades: What was that? / Hermes: What was what? / Hades: I heard a voice / Hermes: I heard it not / Hades: Someone singing / Hermes: I heard nothing / Hades: Some kind of song / Hermes: You could be wrong / It could have been the wind / Hades: The wind? / Hermes: It could have been the rain / Hades: The rain? / Hermes: It could have been the train... (the train / the train / the train / the train...)

From “an early cutting room floor version”:

Fates: One (one, one) / You forget the sun

Eurydice: I forget the sun

Fates: You forget where you come from / You forget the sun

Eurydice: I forget the sun

Fates: Two (two, two)

Why We Build the Wall

Pre-NYTW:

Hermes: A lot can happen behind closed doors / With the big boss and his fountain pen / A lot of dirty deals go down / When there ain’t nobody watching...

Our Lady of the Underground

The 2006 version of the song was called “A Crack in the Wall” and these were the lyrics:

Persephone: Come and see the stars! / They’re fixin to fall / Slidin’ and a-slipping’ / In their gravity shoes / Old Man Mars / Taking Venus to the ball / Big dipper dippin’ / To the blue-sky blues

Have you forgot? / Which was is up? / I think you’ll find / I have just the thing for you / Put a quarter in the slot / You can fill your loving cup / With a little bit of moonshine / From the pay-per-view

How selfless! / The silent moon / Holding a mirror / For an ungrateful sun / Hey, Orpheus! / Are you leaving so soon? / Every night around here / Is a fateful one 

Maybe you got blindsided / Lost your papers! / Lost your mind! / Maybe you once lost an angel / Just to watch her fall / Look a little closer and / The water turns to wine / Look a little closer: there’s a crack in the wall!

So I raise my cup / To the stars in the sky / If you want a show / Go on, get in line / Step right up brothers / Don’t be shy / What the boss don’t know / The boss won’t mind

Way Down Hadestown (Reprise)

A 2013 version of this song was called “No One Now,” delivered to Orpheus, and these are the lyrics:

Fates: Used to be a blushing bride / That was on the other side / Better to forget her face / Now she’s like the rest of us / One more number in a crowd / Maybe she was someone once / She ain’t no one now

Used to be a loving wife / That was in another life / Carve it on a marble stone / Now she’s like the rest of us / One more body in the ground / Maybe she was someone once / She ain’t no one now

Brother don’t you think we all / Used to have a name to call? / A tale to tell as well as her? / Now she’s like the rest of us...

Maybe when she first arrived / So alive, so naive / All the bright lights in her eyes / All her insides fluttering (alt. Heart aflutter on her sleeve) / Maybe she was someone then / Back when Hades drew her in / Like a moth into his flame / Borne aloft on burning wings / Well she ain’t the first and she ain’t the last / Hades’ fire is hot and fast / Just ask all the other girls / Sweeping up the ashes in the underworld / See even when the flame is new / She doesn’t hold a candle to / The woman Hades truly loves / So maybe she was someone once / But now she’s like the rest of us / All used up, all burned out / Maybe she was someone once / She ain’t no one now

From the Dartmouth workshop:

Hermes (to Orpheus): If you wanna get around down here in the tank / Down here in the clink / Down here in the hole / You got to think the way they think / Which is to say, your mind is blank / Which is to say, don’t think at all / Come / I’ll show you how it’s done 

Welcome to the skeleton crew! / Welcome to the chain gang, kid / Lemme introduce you to / The members of the working dead / Old Jack Hammer! / Mister Miner / Wandering forever in the catacombs / Working on a hole to China / Diggin’ up them dino bones / Way down...

Sweatshop Sally! Missus Miller! / Workin’ in the cellar where the sun don’t shine / Sad eyed little Cinderella / Sweeping up the ashes of the summertime / Used to be one a the boss’s pets / Now she’s just another stiff / One night in the boss’s bed / And a lifetime on the graveyard shift / Way down...

Flowers

Did not exist in Vermont, but there was a brief reprise of “Everything Written”: 

Eurydice: If it’s me- if it’s me you’re looking for / Orpheus, I can’t be with you anymore

Fates: She signed in blood / She signed for good

Eurydice: I signed before I understood / And I’d unsign it if I could / But it’s too late / They say that everything is written / Everything is written in those stars / Even these lives we’re living / Even this love

Fates: Seven sisters...

Papers

Pre-NYTW:

Hades: Let me see your papers, son / Let me see your documents / Or could it be that you have none? / You’re on the wrong side of the fence...

If It’s True

Pre-concept album:

Orpheus: If it’s true what they say / If there’s nothing to be done / If there’s no part left to play / If there’s no song to be sung / If it’s true what they say / If there’s no stone left to turn / If there’s no prayer left to pray / If there’s no bridge left to burn / If it’s true what they say / I’ll be on my way / If it’s true what they say / Then I have lived a lie / They can take the sky away / Take the stars out of my eyes / And my face will be a mask / And my heart will be a stone / And I’ll throw away the past / And I’ll go away alone...

How Long?

Pre-concept album:

Persephone (to Hermes): Brother Hermes, god of speed / Put your feathers on his feet / Hasten his delivery / Keep him hale and whole / Brother, I’m a jaded woman / But there’s something in his singing / And it feels like spring a-comin’ / To the winter of my soul 

Brother Hermes, god of speed / Put your feathers on his feet / Hasten his delivery / Keep him safe and sound / He reminds me of the lover / That I was when I was younger / Back before my heart went under / Undercover / Underground

Chant (Reprise)

Dartmouth Workshop, 2014:

Hades: And in this symphony of mine / Are power chords and power lines / Which I arrange and orchestrate / And every day I dedicate / The magnum opus of my life / To my unkind, ungrateful wife / Persephone, and she shall see / Her name in lights on my marquee / And every night, another show / My symphony will never close! / And she shall have a front row seat / Which she shall never, ever leave! / Young man, you can strum your lyre...

Epic III

Vermont:

Orpheus: The strong will take what they want to take / And the weak can only tell the tale / And the heart of the king loves everything / Like the hammer loves the nail

The heart of the king is iron and steel / The heart of the king is the color of rust / The heart of the king is soldered and sealed / The heart of the king is a tinderbox / That he has to keep under lock and key / That it not catch fire inside his chest / Cos a lover’s desire is a mutiny / A lover’s desire is a wilderness 

But even that hardest of hearts unhardened...

(I just have to say I fucking love this imagery of a fire oh my god)

Lover’s Desire

Anaïs once set the original Lover’s Desire melody to lyrics around the area of Wedding Song:

Orpheus: Lover, can you hear me? / I’m asking for your hand / Your hand for better or for worse / Forever / Whether you’re sick or well / For rich or poorer, to have and to hold for as / Long as we both shall live

Eurydice: Lover, can you hear me? / I’m asking for a hand / A hand that’s steady and strong / To lean on / To catch me if I fall / That’s the hand that I’ll have and I’ll hold for as / Long as we both shall live

Word to the Wise

Early workshops:

Fates: Hey / Hey / Hey / It’s judgement day! / Are you gonna let ‘em just walk away? / What you gonna do... ?

Wait For Me (Reprise)

Vermont:

Hades: Hermes!

Hermes: Hades!

Hades: Time to go / Time to bring this to a close / Time to lay this thing to rest 

Hermes: Orpheus?

Hades: Orpheus / It’s all agreed / We’ve struck a deal / He’s free

Hermes: He’s free?

Hades: He’s free to walk

Hermes: And she?

Hades: To follow at his heel / And she, to follow at his back

Eurydice: Wait for me, I’m coming...

Hades: And she shall follow at his back / And she shall follow in his wake

Hermes: And what’s the catch?

Hades: The catch is this: / He shall not turn to see her face / And if he turns, the game is up / The deal is off, his race is run / And that’s the end of Orpheus / You’ll see it done?

Eurydice: Wait for me, I’m coming...

Written at an unspecified time but never used:

Hermes: A poor boy and a hungry young girl / Walking single file / While the music played / Brother, they looked for all the world / Like they was walking down the aisle / On their wedding day

We Raise Our Cups

The show once ended with an alternate song called “Cloud Machine” in Vermont, the lyrics of which Anaïs says she is embarrassed by:

Orpheus: What have I done? Mother, what have I done? / Squandered the gift that you gave me / Gambled with Hades and Hades won / And there’s no song now that can save me 

Mother, I failed! Oh Mother, I tried / And I fell like a fool would fall / And I left my love / On the other side / On the other side of the wall

(Alt. There’s a crack in the wall / It’s a little bit wider / It’s a little bit wider, that’s all)

Persephone: Come, my son, don’t take it so hard / Everything is forgiven / You have done naught / But to play out the part / That the Fates in their wisdom have written

Orpheus: Raise up the curtain! The crowd goes wild! / The Fates are drunken clowns / All of us dreamers are walking the wire / While they juggle our dream around 

Apollo, come down in your cloud machine / Apollo, come swallowing fire / With your thunder and lightning and kerosene / For the Fates and their funeral pyre

Persephone: Come, my son, we try and we fail / Every tail has an end

But the pale dawn breaks / And the snake eats it’s tail / And the tale begins again...

[lovesgonnabe]

Love Is Worth It Episode V - We Got The Pandemic Blues Under a New York City Skyline

Characters: Chris Evans x Maya Alonso-Evans (Black OFC)

Warnings: straight fluff, cursing, implied smut.

Word Count: 3485

Summary: What happens in NYC stays in NYC!

AN: The NYC Skyline prompt is by @iguessweallcrazyithinktho thank you so much for letting me use your theme I hope I did it justice. If you haven't read any of her stuff what are you doing get on it!

Disclaimer: There’s only slight edits so there may be errors. Also if you haven’t noticed this series will have many time jumps and things referenced here may make more sense later on in the series when new episodes come out so please bear with me.

Taglist: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss, @canadian-girl87, @i-just-like-fanfics, @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful​ if you would like to join the taglist message me.

Please leave a note and tell me what you think!

June 13th, 2020

Being with Chris had its many perks but not working was definitely one Maya never wanted to take advantage of.

When Chris first brought it up when they got engaged she looked at him like he had two heads and said “I worked to hard put myself through school to get these expensive ass letters behind my name to just stay my ass at home” and that was the last time they had that conversation.

But fast forward to 2020 If you told Maya that she would have to close both of her dermatology offices in the middle of award season a few months ago she would have laughed at you.

She just couldn’t see herself not working because she loved what she does, but with both New York and Boston putting in place stay at home orders there’s nothing she could do.

It didn't help that it was only Maya in Boston dealing with work and all that entails, Delilah's up in the air school situation, and a whole hoax of things while Chris was in L A being as supportive of a husband and father as he could be on the other side of the country.

At least Dodger was being pretty normal.

Thanks to Chris's family for being so helpful where they could because for a minute Maya felt like she was beginning to drown.

This saga starts with the beginning of the pandemic.

January was chill there were whispers that there was a deadly pandemic on the horizon but no one took it seriously.

February Chris had left at the beginning of the month to LA to promote his new show Defending Jacob and it wasn't like anything out of the ordinary the couple worked, and called each other daily.

Chris told her he'd have to be there through March but would be home in time for Maya's birthday in April.

Her lawsuit against Boston PD was settled out of court for an undisclosed amount that was donated to charity and trust me that lawsuit cost them a pretty penny because Chris was threatening to go to the press and Boston PD did not need anymore negative press.

After finding out that the older officer already had many reports against him for abuse of power he was "let go" by Boston PD and the other officer was demoted to desk duty and sent Maya an apology letter for his actions

She thinks he only did it because her husband is Chris Evans but she tries not to be a cynic.

In mid March with her offices were forced to close and the lives of her twenty employees were in her hands, but sin there was no money coming in she had to regrettably furlough all of them until she could open back up.

This news could come at a worse time because Lilah's school was trying to transition them to online learning for the rest of the year.

So Maya now had to also be her home school teacher for the last 2 months before summer vacation .

Maya does feel blessed because she was still able to teach some derm online classes through NYU, and her family was healthy but Chris still wasn't home.

Because of travel restrictions in LA on April 1st Maya found out that the earliest Chris could be home was in possibly July or Mid June if they are lucky because he need to start filming for Grey Man that was set in Boston.

Then rumors started to swirl that Chris could be cheating on Maya but

She doesn't play that and isn't a dummy

Chris isn't stupid and

He's been in their home in LA quarenting with his brother Scott the whole time so if some foul shit did happen she would be the first one to know and on the first jet smoking to beat some ass.

But hey when it rains it pours.

In interviews Chris would say he was "quartining with his family at home in Boston."

They would try to make the spaces look just like Chris and Maya's homebase in Boston even going as far as strategically moving photos of them in the background to make it look like his office at home.

And it actually work most people thought Chris was in Boston anyways and it was all gossip the others thought he went back home to clean up this mess.

But nope Chris was not in Boston he was 2,764 miles away and this time it all just felt different and he hated not being able to be there with them during this crazy uncertain time and Maya just needed a vacation.

In April Maya and Delilah just had dinner at the house for her birthday they facetimed Chris and once Liliah had gone to bed Chris and Maya had sexytime over the phone.

The rest of the month Maya just went with the flow and did the same through June.

Now we are all caught up and in the present day.

It's Chris's 39th birthday but he was still in LA.

Maya stayed up to call him at midnight in LA because that was their tradition but now it was about 12pm and Chris has not picked up any of her phone calls Maya was annoyed.

Maya and Delilah sat in the Den as Maya was detangling Delilah's freshly washed hair getting ready to put her curly hair into braids as Mulan played on the tv in front of them.

"Mommy can I call dad it's his birthday and I haven't got to talk to him today. Lilah says playing with Maya's phone.

"Go ahead sweetheart maybe you'll have better luck them me." said Maya as she sectioned Lilah's hair.

As the facetime ringtone went Dodger who was laying in his dog bed next to Lilah began to bark and then he ran for the front door Maya looked that way but didn't see anything since the alarm didn't go off either which she found strange.

She shrugged it off only for a second until she heard a bag hit the ground as she quickly stood up the only thought in her head was to protect Delilah helping her to hide under the couch.

As the person entered their den Dodger continued to bark and she grabbed a pair hair scissors about to attack the intruder until she saw his face and exhaled the breath she didn't even know she was holding.

"CHRIS you scared the shit out of me" she said before he could say anything.

He laughed "Baby I didn't mean to scare you" Chris said

Lilah screamed and crawled from under the couch.

"daddy, daddy, daddy I missed you and Happy Birthday." Lilah said running into Chris's arm.

"I missed you to babycakes you been taking care of mommy for me" Chris said holding Lilah and walking towards a still shocked Maya.

He kissed Maya's forehead trying to pull her into a hug but she rolled her eyes and pushed his hand away.

"Chris i thought you weren't coming home till July" Maya asked

Chris shrugged "plans change now are you gonna come and give daddy a kiss you what"

He said flopping on the couch with Lilah on his lap.

Mays sucked her teeth peeked his lips and told Lilah to come so she could finish her hair.

Her saltiness cause Chris to laugh as Lilah moved over to her mom.

They were sitting on the same couch so Chris bent over and began to whisper in her ear. "Stop acting like that baby I wanted to surprise you"

Maya gave minimal response and Chris didn't like that so then he brought heat.

When he walked Maya had on a beige short set the top was fairly tin and the shorts barely covered her ass, he could see her nipples stand at attention on her delicious breast when walked.

It's been 3 months since he's had sex with his wife and boy can he feel it. He gave her tigh a firm squeeze now pecking her spot behind her ear forcing Maya to stop mid greasing Lilah's scalp to take a deep breath.

"if you stop acting up tonight I'll do that thing with my tongue that you like if not daddy won't be letting you cum at all tonight.

Chris said moving his body back to his original position smirking at his shooken up wife whose attitude did a 180 quick, fast and in a hurry.

Chris was no home and with his girls and he couldn’t be any happier.

After braiding Delilah's hair Maya went and they dropped her off at Chris’s moms which was a fight in itself because she wanted to stay with her daddy but Maya had other plans.

The original plan was to take Chris out of the country for his birthday but plans change.

Before Chris showed up today Maya had nothing planned for Chris's birthday because he was not suppose to be home they were just going to the same thing they did for her birthday.

On there way back home my had an idea with there hands intertwined Maya began to speak.

“So birthday boy what do you want to do for your birthday” Maya asked

“You know I don’t care as long as I’m with you my love” Chris said kissing her hand.

Maya giggled “Well we’ve dropped Dede at your moms and Scott said he could take Dodger”

She states looking at the puppy through the rear view mirror as Chris began to rub is thumb over her knuckles.

“It seems you already have a plan for us babe” he smirks

“I know you are just getting home but how about we drop Dodger off and I was thinking maybe drive to New York, I need to get out of Boston and have a bit of a staycation”. She said.

Chris chuckled and looked at Maya as the stopped at the red light.

“Wherever you lead I’ll follow. He said

“You are so corny old man” Maya laughed as she leaned over and peek his sweet lips.

They continued their drive to Scotts and talked enjoying eachothers company for the first time in a while, they were so wrapped up in each other that Dodger had to bark to remind Chris he was about to pass Scoots house .

Maya laughed at the puppy then pet him telling him how good of a dog he is.

“Alright birthday boy Scott has Dodger now let's switch its my turn to drive you around” She said.

They headed home to pick up a few things and then The Evans were off and headed for there trip.

After the 3 and 1/2 hour drive they got to New York and the barren streets shocked them.

They are staying in there penthouse apartment on the upper east side that over looks Central Park and New York's famous skyline.

Before settling in Maya decided to get groceries once she got back Jazz played softly in her ears as the punchy aroma of the candle Slow Burn hit her nose.

“Hey Chris I'm back” she called out to him.

She was met without a response just the smooth stylings of Frank Sinatra.

Maya put the groceries in the kitchen and headed to their master bedroom.

Kicking her shoes off and following the rose petals into the bathroom that revealed Chris who sat in all his glory in the pink tinted bathtub.

Apparently he did not hear her as his eyes stayed closed and his arms outstretched.

And all Maya could do was admire the greek god that was her husband.

His long wingspan encompassed the entire back of the tub as his strong biceps would flex ever deep breath he took. And don't to get Maya started on those baby blues which were one of the only things Lilah did not get from Chris. Those same blue eyes were now looking straight at her.

“I was hoping you’d be back soon” he said

Raising his head to look at his goddess of a wife smirking at him.

“So I’m guessing you would like me to join you?” She asked

Maya teased him as she began to slowly remove her clothes.

“Hey aren’t I the birthday boy that shouldn’t even be a question Maya so you better bring your sexy ass in here” Chris said to her as his arms still laid on the back of the tub looking like a king”

Maya stepped in with Chris’s help the warm water encapsulating her body as she sinks down.

She sighs in satisfaction when her body is finally completely in the water as she lays into Chris’s embrace.

They just sit there and enjoy each other company, washing the dirt off of each other from the day, and stealing kisses from one another.

Maya and Chris were that couple you loved to hate they didn’t show off their love that much with Chris’s anxiety and Maya’s destain for public scrutiny because she’s black woman with a man of Chris stature, PDA was mostly off the table. However behind closed doors they are the cutest most intimate couple you’d ever meet.

Once she was clean from her road dirt Maya left the water first placing a kiss on Chris’s lips as she headed to start dinner and Chris laid back and continued to relax.

Once Chris finally got out the bath he found Maya in the kitchen halfway finished with dinner.

“Jesus babe it smells fantastic in here and I see you changed the music” Chris said

He was now fully dressed in a blue t-shit in matching joggers, his hair damp from the bath as Lauryn Hill's rendition of Can't Take My Eyes off of You played in the background.

She chuckled “only the best for you my king”

"Mhm I like the sound of that" He said as he went in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of white wine and poured them both a glass.

She was at the counter cutting up veggies.

“Ok so how long do I have wait before I can devour all this?” he asked placing the glass in front of Maya.

They took their first cheers of the night tapping the glasses together.

Maya took a sip and moan at the taste of the wine.

“Soon Chris don’t stress it babe you will be fed very soon” she said.

Her hips began to sway to the music as she hummed along.

At long last, love has arrived, and I thank God I'm alive

Chris walked up behind her wrapping her arms around waist swaying with her body and catching the rhythm.

You're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off you

Moving her hair to her left shoulder Chris begins to kiss her neck.

"Remember when we first bought this place." Chris asked

"Yes you didn't want to you said my place in Brooklyn was enough for us" Maya said putting the knife down and melted into Chris's strong arms.

"Mmm but you did an excellent job at convincing me why we need this place, 3 bedrooms right in the Heart of the city just for times likes these when want to get away." Chris said with his arms still wrapped around her.

She laughed "I thought it was because you fucked me against the balcony on our terrace is why you said yes"

He smirked at the memory "well that to"

Chris sucked on her neck and moved his down her satin dress but the timer on the pot decided to be a cock block and go off before he could make a move.

He groaned and Maya laughed directed him to get ready to eat.

Just as the food was finishing up Chris set the dining table for two, taking the rest of the flowers from his bath laying them out between the kitchen and there Terrence where they were having dinner overlooking the city.

It was a beautiful night. There was a soft breeze and the city was a glow quieter that usual but still a sight to behold.

Maya brought out the food as Chris poured them another glass, they both sat prayed then rose their glasses to cheers again.

During dinner Chris made some corny jokes that always seemed to put Maya in a better mood as Maya would slyly rub her foot up Chris’s pant leg.

Next came dessert still out on the terrace they shared a slice of cake (more like Maya fed Chris cake) which is how she ended up in his lap enjoying the very expensive yet immaculate view they had from their home.

He rubbed her thigh as he kisses her shoulder just thinking of the fastest way to get Maya out of her dress.

"god you are beautiful" Chris said

His hand now playing with the trim of her panties under her strappy white satin dress.

"Oh no birthday boy you not fucking me out here tonight you gotta come inside for your last present" Maya said.

Chris groaned Maya got up seductively waking back inside her curves just begging him to follow her

“This woman Is going to be the death of me” Chris thought as he came back inside and closed the door that lead to the terrace.

Maya handed Chris his third and final glass of wine of the night.

He raised an eyebrow "Are you trying to get me drunk Mrs. Evans so you can have your way with me?" he asked.

Taking a sip from his glass he smacked Maya the ass and watched it move as she walked towards their living room.

She laughed "I wouldn't have to get you drunk to have my way with you Mr. Evans"

Their living room had floor to ceiling windows that overlook Chris's second favorite city, and that's where Maya stood wine glass in hand looking all the people that looked like ants. But all Chris could think about was how this woman fell for him.

She watched the scenery and he watched her but when that signature trumpet blew he remembered that the music was still playing and so did she.

Maya turned around to see Chris was watching her one hand in his pocket and the other still holding his wine, she made a face at him.

"What are you looking at me like that Chris, you ok?” she asked hand on her hip taking another drink from her glass.

The moon shined off her skin like she was in the sun, her white dress reminding him of their wedding day the way it hugged her figure.

Still speechless Chris walked up to her placing both of their glasses on the coffee table, he brushed her hair behind her ear and she moans nuzzling her head in his touch.

"Baby I am absolutely perfect because I am here with you" he says.

Chris softly pulls her by the waist bringing her flush against her body as raspy voice of Louis Armstrong in Le Vie En Rose brought butterfly’s to Maya’s stomach because this was their song.

His hands lay softly on her waist as her arms lay around his shoulder as they dancer slowly around there living room.

Hold me close and hold me fast, The magic spell you cast, this is la vie en rose.

His cologne sent waves of pleasure and warmth through her body, when Maya laid her head on his chest not wanting to let him go. As their heartbeat became in sync the moonlight casted their sillones on the ground.

They were two lovers who were lost in eachother hoping to never get out and wanting to hide from the world it felt new but familiar.

Once the song ended Chris kissed her so deep and and passionately Maya thought she was gonna cum then and there.

Chris's hands moved from their previously respectable position making circle on her hips to the bottom of her ass telling Maya to jump causing Maya wrap her chocolate legs around his waist.

As Chris walked he kept repeating how much he missed Maya so much while he was in LA.

They couldn’t even make it back to their bedroom for their first round of many.

And Maya was a goner as Chris made love to her all night in every corner of their apartment as the city watched as the couple were engulfed with each other.

But there was a little voice in the back of Maya's head "Well damn how are we going to top 40 next year" it asked.

The preoccupied side of her brain shooed hat thought away so she could just enjoy being with her man at this moment.

Thanking god there was no more space between them like the miles before.

[hockeyboysimagines]

Guess I always knew

Prequel to Say it to me Softly.

Pairing:Nolan Patrick x Sawyer Grey(OC fem)

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, parties, alcohol, sexual situations, fluff, angst, harassment, fighting.

Hi all! This is really long, but it had to be done! Just some fun Nolan and Sawyer moments through the years until he asks her to move with him. Hopefully it can give you some background on them and you enjoy it!

-💕

Toast popped up just as Delaney wrapped the hair tie around the bottom of Sawyers braid

“Viola.” She said smiling and pulling it tight. Sawyer smiled at her sister as her mother pulled the toast up and put butter on it. It was a warm early summer morning and a cool breeze was drifting through the open screen door in the kitchen. The radio was on, Sawyer’s mother, Anna humming along with the radio as she moved about the kitchen making breakfast. Mason was in his high chair eating cereal, and she could hear Liv making her way downstairs. Kellan was seated at the island reading the sports section of the paper.

“ Alright.” Delaney said, finishing her orange juice and placing her plate and cup in the dishwasher “I’m out.”

“Where you off to today?” He mom asked as she stirred pancake batter, bowl perched on her hip.

“Heading to the lake with some friends, shouldn’t be home too late.”

Her mom smiled, as Delaney dropped a kiss in Mason’s head and slugged kellan in the side. She waved to the girls and her mom.

“Del?” She turned hoisting her bag over her shoulder, hand braced on the door frame.

“Be careful. “

She smiled “Always am mom.” She breezed out the door, the sound of her flip flops on the gravel growing faint until she reached her car and pulled out of the driveway.

“How bout you?” Her mom said turning to Kellan. He stood drinking the last of his coffee, and stretched setting the paper down.

“I’m heading out to pick up some bait, then I’m gonna meet dad out at the mill and we’re gonna go fishing and then we’ll be home with dinner.” She smiled and wiped her hands on her apron, accepting a kiss on the cheek as he walked to put his boots on.

“And you?” Sawyer smiled and before she could say anything she heard her name being called from the driveway.

“Why do I even ask?” He mother chuckled and opened the window.

“Good morning Nolan honey! Are you hungry?”

“Good morning Mrs.Grey! No thanks my mom wouldn’t let me leave without eating. She said she has flowers to drop off for you later today!” Sawyer shoved her feet in her sneakers and put her plate and cup in the dishwasher before giving her mom a quick hug and waving to her siblings.

Nolan was sitting on his bike at the bottom of the driveway, backpack strapped on his shoulders. Sawyer heaved her own bike up, throwing a leg over it and hoisting herself up on the seat.

“So what do you want to do today?” Nolan asked as they began pedaling down the gravel road.

Summer had just started, and they had 3 whole months of free time with no school, no teachers and no responsibility.

“ I don’t know. It’s not warm enough to go swimming.”

He shook his head as they continued down the road waving to various neighbors and classmates. The sun was out now, high in the sky beating down and burning their shoulders. They ended up pedaling out of the neighborhood and dropped their bikes at the end of a hill and hiked to the top. They could see almost the whole town from there. Nolan was stretched out laying on his back eyes closed. Even at 12 Nolan was all legs and arms, hair shaggy that he refused cut. His mom had given up chasing him around with scissors and threatening bodily harm if he didn’t keep it short.

“I’m so glad schools over.”

“Yeah me too. No more homework, no more class, no more hockey.”

“You love hockey.”

“ Well yeah I do but I like a good break now and again you know.”

They sat for a while talking about the important stuff all 12 year olds talk about until it got too hot. They trekked back down the hill and decided to go to Nolan’s. The sun was shining and the air was warm and what should have been the start of a fun filled summer was the day their lives were about to change. Nolan’s mom had come frantically running from the front door when she saw them coming up the front walk and ushered them both into the car.

Delaney Grey was gone, her car abandoned, and no one knew where she was. Sawyer watched the following days destroy her parents, and turn her world upside down. The discovery of her car and her body later on would change the course of Sawyers entire life. She would forever be known as the girl who’s sister was murdered. Nolan was more important to her than ever. His mom took her in, keeping her shielded and protected from things she didn’t need to see, and stepped in when her mom couldn’t.

Time passed, the wounds healed but her parents were never the same and never okay. A lot of it passed so quickly she woke some days and didn’t remember. But the time they turned 15 rumors and stares mostly died down, until the anniversary. It would always be a part of her, and something that would always affect her. But she had Nolan. So she would fine.

******

“Gosh it’s so hot.” Jessi was sitting on a lawn chair in Sawyers backyard, sunglasses perched on her nose. Jessie had become an unexpected and close friend over the school year. They had met in English class, and paired together in a project. Jessie had a purple streak in her long dark hair, and a nose ring but she was funny and the only person who she could spend long amounts of time with besides Nolan. He even liked her, and the two of them got along well. The girls had been laying out in their bathing suits for almost 45 minutes and the most color they had gotten was sunburn. Sawyer closed her eyes and tipped her head back. It was rare to have peaceful moments like this so she was going to cherish it.

“Speaking of hot-“Jessi lowered her glasses and nudged her chin forward. Nolan and Chase, along with some other guys she didn’t know had just pulled into her driveway.

“Are you sure you never hit that?” Jessi was talking about Nolan, as always. She didn’t understand how ‘two people so attractive could exist as just friends without sex’.

“No Jess, I have not.”

“Are you sure you don’t wanna now? I mean damn.”

“If you think he’s so hot why don’t you-“

“He’s way out of my league babe. I wouldn’t even try it. But you should.”

Nolan had immediately tried to get them to leave her driveway the minute they pulled up and he saw she was wearing a bikini.

“Oh hell no.” Chase said practically jumping out of the car. “Sorry Pat. You said I couldn’t touch, but you said nothing about looking.”

Nolan mumbled something and followed his friends into her backyard, already regretting not calling. Why couldn’t she be wearing clothing?

*******

Sawyer closed her locker, balancing her books in one arm as she clicked the lock shut. It was raining but it was Friday and school was halfway over. As she turned she bumped into a chest. She looked up, about to scold Nolan for sneaking up on her when she was greeted by Kyle Welch. Kyle was the captain of the football team and a pretty well known colossal dick, but all the same he was popular and someone she had never even spoken to. Her eyebrows shot up on her forehead and she took a step back.

Hi. Your Sawyer right?”

“I-Uh yeah?”

“Your in my English class right? We should study sometime.” He was smiling at her, all teeth like a fucking dragon. He was looking at her with the strangest of looks, one that made her very very uncomfortable. Like she was a piece of meat, a toy for him to play with.

“Uhm. Sure. I guess.”

He gave her another smile and a nod before walking down the hallway and disappearing.

She shook her head, still confused but began her walk to the cafeteria. She found Nolan and the rest of her friends seated at the usual table. She sat between Nolan and Chase, across from Jessie, still bothered by the exchange at her locker.

“Your never going to believe who asked me to study today.” She said as she bit into an apple slice from her spot between them.

“Who?” Chase asked turning to her, mouth full of sandwich.

“Kyle Welch.”

Nolan’s bottle of water banged loudly off the table as he dropped it and his head whipped towards her.

“He what?”

She nodded and as she went to speak Kyle himself passed by their table sending her a smile. Nolan was glaring at him so severely, if looks could kill Kyle would be dead and the football team would be out a captain.

“No fucking way are you helping that guy study.” Nolan said, face set in stone.

“Yeah I’m gonna have to second this one.” Chase said from her other side.

“I wasn’t going to anyways, I think he just did it to be a dick.” She could feel heat and tension radiating off of Nolan, though she wasn’t sure why. As far as she knew they had never had any interaction, and ran in separate circles. But he was still glaring at him all the same.

“I heard some pretty messed up shit about that guy.” Chase said, eyeing Kyle from across the room.

“Like what?” Jessie asked. She was staring at Nolan who was still visibly angry, eyebrows furrowed. She glanced at Sawyer, who shrugged and turned her attention to Chase.

“ I mean it’s just a rumor but someone said that spiked some girls drink at Jenny Miller’s party last year. And I guess she isn’t the only one. Apparently he’s done it before. Like I said, just what I heard but still alarming eh?”

“Just stay clear of him.” Nolan snapped. He was quiet for the rest of lunch till the bell rang. He gave her a long look as he stood, and then turned abruptly and left the cafeteria without another word.

“What’s his deal?” Jessi asked, making Chase roll his eyes.

“You know Nolan. Come on.” He said nudging Sawyer “We’re gonna be late.”

She had always tried to keep her distance from Kyle and his group of friends in general. Nolan had an issue with him that she never truly understood but because it was Nolan she trusted it was for a good reason. She was following behind Chase on the way to history, but as he rounded the corner Kyle reappeared in front of her separating them. Chase kept walking unaware that she was no longer behind him.

“Oh hi.” She said taking a step away from him. The hallway was mostly empty and he was way too close to her.

“So about studying. How about later?”

“Oh I Uhm. I don’t know.”

“Come on. My parents are gone for the weekend so we’ll have the place to ourselves.” He reached forward, and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. She froze. Nolan had a habit of tucking her hair behind her ear, but it felt all wrong when Kyle did it, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“I can drive you to my house. It’ll be fun.”

“I usually drive home with-“

“Me.” She jumped and turned to find Nolan coming up behind her. He was glowering at Kyle over her shoulder, who looked at him unfazed.

“Is this your boyfriend or something?”

“Yeah I am. Let’s go.” He steered her away by the waist, and down the hall away from him.

“What the fuck was that about?” He stopped suddenly and spun to face her.

“He wanted me to come home with him after school. I said no.”

He rubbed his forehead eyes closed “Go to History. And wait for me after school. “

He left, storming down the hall leaving her standing in front of her classroom. After class she said goodbye to Chase and stuffed her books into her locker before walking out the back entrance of school. The rain had stopped but it was damp and chilly as she walked, avoiding puddles on the sidewalk. She rubbed her arms through her sweater, and as she turned the corner to the back of the building she stopped.

Kyle and a few of on his football buddies were hanging around, and turned to face her. Kyle smiled slowly, and gave her a once over, making her feel like she needed a shower. She felt trapped for a moment when she realized she was alone, the closest person being way ahead of her in the parking lot.

“Hey. Decided to take me up in my offer eh?” She was still glued to the spot.

“I was actually heading to meet Nolan. Excuse me.” She tried to brush past him but he grabbed her arm.

“Hey where you going?” He pulled her closer, fingers gripping her skin painfully. The other guys had wandered over, circling around laughing. She broke from his grasp only to have him catch both of her wrists and pull him to her.

“You should be thankful I’m even giving you the time of day.” He said coolly “Now how about you come get in my car and we’ll go to my house and you can get on your-“

“What is this?” Nolan had turned to corner with Rhett and Chase. Kyle released her and held his hands up. She bolted to Nolan, falling into his arms holding back tears. Had he not turned the corner she had no idea what would have happened. Kyle and his friends turned to leave, and he yelled over his shoulder.

“Have fun slumming Patrick.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Whoa buddy. Calm down.” Chase said peering around him to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah I’m fine I just really wanna go home.” She swiped at a tear, as more came rolling down her cheeks, she heaved in a ragged breath. He had scared her, and made her feel small. She wondered if this was how her sister felt when she knew she was in trouble that day. Small and scared. And alone. Nolan ducked his head down to look at her.

“Hey. Hey. It’s okay let’s just go.” She walked with them to the car, several student noticing her red eyes and tears. She got in quickly, while Nolan said goodbye to the guys. The ride home was quiet. Too quiet. She felt disgusting, and every time she closed her eyes she could feel his breath on her face and his hands on her skin. Nolan was gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white face unreadable. When he pulled up to her house, he parked and sighed. No one was home, and though normally he would drop her off, he got out.

“I’m not leaving you here alone.”

She nodded and he followed her up the front steps and in the front door. She was still crying as she dropped her backpack by the door.

“Sawyer.” He said softly. She turned, head bowed and he very gently wrapped her in a hug, sobs wracking her body. They stayed like that for a while, till she was all cried out.

******

Nolan had completely forgotten that he promised Bo he would do an “interview” the best day. While he was annoyed, he was also relieved. They had been friends for a long time, and Bo took his mind off getting in his car and driving to Kyle’s house to murder him. Sawyer was going to come over afterwards. She was still upset, but was doing her best to mask it. He felt guilty for letting her walk out of school alone that day, when he would typically meet her by the entrance.

After the whole thing was over and Bo ended the interview, miffed that Nolan had answered the phone before he was done speaking, Nolan hung up and turned back to Bo who was smiling mischievously.

“ So?”

“What?”

Bo rolled his eyes “We all know who your best friend is Pat and we both know it’s neither one of those guys.”

Nolan rolled his eyes and scowled “ Leave her out of this.”

“I would but she’s just so hot-“

Before Bo could say anything else Nolan had pulled the back of his shirt over his head and had him in a tight neck lock. The other guys laughed immediately trying to turn the camera back on.

“Alright Jesus let go Pat! I was joking!”

He released him and pointed a finger threateningly at him as Bo straightened his shirt and started giggling.

“I’m serious-“

“I know Pat I would never do that. I thought you knew me better than that.”

That was Nolan’s worst fear. Most of his friends knew better than to even think about asking Sawyer out but it didn’t stop them from looking and making comments. The speculation that surrounded them had grown huge by the time they were in high school, and while it was exhausting to have to answer the same questions over and over again Nolan found that he didn’t really mind that people thought there was some attachment between them. It kept guys away from her and while he knew it was selfish he couldn’t help it. He just didn’t think anyone was good enough for her. He had purposely said someone else’s name when Bo asked so that they would leave him alone about her and it had backfired anyways.

It was frustrating for Nolan to know that given the opportunity all his friends would make some type of move on her, and he would break both his legs before that happened. He tried to keep a barrier between her and them but most of the time it didn’t work. She was just so damn friendly and approachable, her big smile pulled people in like a magnet.

“ I thought she’d be around, where is she anyway?”

“None of your business.”

Bo held his hands up, and as if on cue Sawyers car pulled into his driveway. Nolan had tried to hurry the process of the ‘interview’ hoping they would be gone before she got there but Bo had spent so much time goofing around they were behind schedule.

Great.

She stepped out, closed the door and made her way to Nolan’s back yard. Her hair was curly today, falling down her back to her waist. She had on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve grey shirt. Even completely covered the other guys had already given her a thorough once over and continued to stare as she came to stand next to him. Nolan gave Bo one last glare

“Hi.” Nolan wrapped an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze. For whatever the reason Nolan got slightly possessive over her in situations like this, which didn’t make sense because he wasn’t her boyfriend. But the arm that he wrapped around her shoulders stayed there, keeping her pulled flush to his side.

“Hi Bo.” She smiled at him, practically making the other guys flood Nolan’s yard with drool.

“Hey. Your boy here just hit me with a plastic ball right in the junk.”

“Well you probably deserved it.”

Nolan laughed and bid Bo and the others goodbye, as they filed out of his yard, and Sawyer followed him up the steps to his room and threw herself down on his bed. He pulled open a drawer and pulled his shirt off to put on a new one. Sawyer turned and felt a blush creep up her neck while he changed. She had seen him shirtless plenty of times but he had obviously been spending extra time in the gym and his long lanky frame was beginning to change.

What the hell am I saying? She shook her head and turned her attention to the tv instead, trying to ignore shirtless Nolan on the other side of the room. He pulled another shirt over his head and came to sit next to her.

“Tired?” He asked. She was curled in a ball, head on his pillow. She nodded and closed her eyes.

“I couldn’t sleep last night after you know-.”

He nodded “I’m still mad about it. But that’s never gonna happen again.”

He laid down next to her, settling in and flipped the tv on and she inches closer resting her head on his shoulder. She had an angry purple bruise on her wrist, another on her upper arm. He was pissed just looking at it. It was a reminder that he hadn’t been there to protect her.

Her eyes had slid closed. He was so warm and inviting and she felt safe and relaxed for the first time in 24 hours, as she felt his arm wrap around her shoulders. He felt her body grow heavy, and her breathing even out and grow slow. They were alone in his house, his parents and sisters were gone and would be for several hours. He reached a hand up and ran it tentatively through her hair. He always had his hands in her hair. It was thick and soft and caught the light just right when she moved. She stirred slightly, and wrapped an arm around his midsection, sighing. Her eyes opened and she tipped her head back to look up at him.

Nolan suddenly felt an extreme urge to kiss her. His eyes moved to her mouth, which was less than 6 inches from his own, and then back up to her eyes again. They stayed that way for a few moments before Nolan leaned forward slightly hand coming up to her face. Her heart rate increased as his nose brushed against hers. Their lips had just touched when the sound of a slamming door from downstairs made them jump apart and Sawyer moved clear across the bed away from him before standing up quickly. Nolan was alarmed at what had almost just happened and was rooted to the spot. She was backed up against the wall like a animal cornered in a cage, eyes large.

“Sawyer I-“

She hurried from the room, the sound of her feet carrying down the stairs, out his front door and into her car. He threw himself backwards and sighed.

Fuck.

******

Sawyer was standing with Jessie drink in hand when Bo came up behind her and bumped her shoulder.

“Your boy is here.” He motioned behind him with his head, and Sawyer rolled her eyes.

“He’s not my boy.” She looked over Bo’s shoulder and felt a twinge of annoyance. Nolan was standing with Rhett and Chase surrounded by a group of girls all giggling and twirling their hair around their fingers, giving them their best doe eyes. One girl in particular had Nolan’s attention, as he leaned against the wall hands in his pockets smiling as she spoke to him. The twinge of annoyance became anger. What the hell was he doing? He had nearly kissed her earlier that afternoon and now he was flirting with someone else?

“Kaylee Smith eh?” Jessie shook her head and took a sip out of her solo cup “Is anyone gonna tell him it’s supposedly like a cave down there?”

Bo stifled a laugh and looked at Sawyer. She was gripping her cup, other arm folded across her midsection.

“Well isn’t that just fucking cozy.”

She downed the rest of her drink and pushed through the crowd to get another one. Bo and Jessie watched her go before turning back to each other.

“This isn’t going to end well.”

“Maybe I should go warn Pat.”

Bo turned and weaved through the crowd of people, and gave Nolan a punch when he reached him. He turned pausing his conversation with Kaylee, and gave Bo a small smile.

“What’s up?”

“Can I talk to you?…. Alone?” Kaylee reached forward and gave Nolan’s hand a small squeeze before she turned to walk away.

“I’ll talk to you later.” She gave him a smile over the shoulder which he returned, and turned to leave with her friends.

“Are you a moron?” Bo asked arms folded. Nolan frowned, and Rhett and Chase both let out a chuckle.

“What?”

“Your about to cause a serious cat fight my guy.”

“Cat fight? I’m down for a cat fight.” Chase was snickering over the top of his solo cup, as he surveyed the girls in the living room.

“Who?” Nolan was confused. He had been talking to Kaylee since he had arrived and she was definitely flirting with him. He didn’t really have any interest in her, but he also didn’t have a girlfriend so he let her continue. And then it hit him. Sawyer had to be around here somewhere and no doubt it looked from the outside that he was going to take Kaylee home.

“Where is she?” Bo was frowning at him, and shook his head.

“What is up with you two? Your friends but I don’t think your really just friends-“

“Please dude we’ve had this conversation with him a million times and he refuses to budge.”

“Where is she?” Nolan repeated more forcefully this time. After what had happened earlier he had to at least explain himself. He couldn’t see her but he did see Jessie making her way through the crowd. He pushed in between them and caught her by the elbow.

“Nolan hi.” She knew what he wanted, but Sawyer had asked her to cover so she was going to.

“Where is she Jessie?”

“I don’t know honestly. I lost her a little bit ago. Check the bathroom maybe?”

Jessie’s face was solid as steel. She wasn’t going to tell him anything.

Sawyer in the mean time was in the kitchen pouring alcohol into a cup when she felt a presence behind her. Kaylee smith was leaning against the counter behind her, arms crossed. She had never spoken a word to her before so she wasn’t sure why she was in her space now.

“Sorry do you need something?” She wasn’t usually this snippy but she was already annoyed and the source of her annoyance was way too close for her liking.

“What’s with you and Nolan?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m going home with him, and I just want to make sure you aren’t together.”

Sawyer giggled into her cup, before sipping off the top of it and shook her head as it burned all the way down her throat. “Your awfully sure of yourself huh?”

She pursed her lips in a tight smile, head turning to the side “Honey, I always get what I want. So you can find your own way home tonight. Kay?” She gave a wide nasty smile and Sawyer saw red.

“You really think he’s taking you home? Then you don’t really know Nolan at all. And don’t ever think he’ll take you home over me. Ever.”

At that moment Nolan himself entered the kitchen looking relieved to find her and then awkward when he realized she wasn’t alone. Kaylee smiled at him but he brushed past her and stood between them.

“Can I talk to you.” He gently grabbed Sawyers elbow and pulled her out of the kitchen. She sent a small smile at Kaylee over her shoulder as he steered her away, and left her standing in the kitchen mouth open. Once out of sight she pulled her arm from his grip and nearly stumbled, catching herself on the wall.

“Are you drunk?”

“Not enough.” She took another sip of her drink and ran her fingers through her hair before she turned on him.

“You and Kaylee smith huh?” She was squinting at him, cheeks red, hand on her hip. She looked angry, but Nolan wasn’t sure why because he hadn’t done anything.

“What? No.”

“Oh please.” She jabbed a finger into his chest, and stumbled back from the force of it “I saw her all googledneyes-gogole eyeed” Nolan was almost tempted to laugh as she stumbled over her words eyebrows furrowed as she struggled to say what she was trying to.

“Okay. I think it’s time to take you home.”

“She said you were taking her home.”

“God no. I’m taking you home. Now let’s go.”

He said goodbye to his friends and put her in the car. Her house was dark which meant no one was home. He had a hell of a time getting her out and up the stairs. He had just gotten her in the door when he felt her start to shake. At first he thought she was going to puke and immediately held her out at arms length, and rubbed against the wall near the light switch trying to turn it on with no hands. But when she let out a whimper he realized she wasn’t about to get sick.

“Are you crying?”

“No.” She choked out, bracing a hand on his arm as she almost fell in the doorway.

“What’s wrong?”

“She’s gonna take you away.”

“What? Who?”

“Kaylee what’s her name? Girlfriends never let guys have girl beat friends.”

“Oh my god are you-stop.” He heaved her up the stairs as tear flowed down her face. He turned her around so her arms were around his neck, face tucked into his shoulder. She had herself pulled so tightly against him he was struggling to get up the stairs. He had one hand firmly on her lower back, the other one he was using to pull himself up the stairs by the railing. She let out a particular loud sob, and Nolan tired to pull her off of him to look at him, but she just held him tighter.

“Im not even into her like that.”

“Her. Someone else. Doesn’t matter. They’ll take you from me.” She whispered against his neck. Her words touched Nolan’s heart.

“That’s never gonna happen okay?” He opened her bedroom door and walked her forward to her bed losing his footing and falling down into bed with her. They landed, bed springs squeaking with a small ‘oof’. Her tears had subsided and she was laying with her eyes closed on her pillow as he untangled himself from her.

“ Nolan?” Sawyer asked face against the pillow

“ Hmmmmm?”

“ Do you still love me?” He chuckled and pulled the covers up over her, pushing her hair from her face. She was flushed and her eyeliner was smudged around the eyes from her crying, but she opened them and stared at him waiting for his answer.

“ Of course I do. Why?”

She sat up suddenly, getting right up in his face. He was frozen as she stared at him, lips pushing up against his, arm wrapping around his neck. It was chaste at first but then she pressed harder and pulled herself flush to him. Like his body was on autopilot he let his tongue trace across her lower lip, and she opened her mouth allowing him to push it inside. Her heart was beating hard in her chest as one of his hands tangled in her hair and gripped the back of her neck. They carried on a few more moments till he felt her tug at the bottom of his shirt.

“No Sawyer.”

She looked shocked, and then angry as she backed up against her headboard.

“Did you say no? “

“Yes I did.”

She sputtered for a moment, genuine hurt clouding her face. Nolan felt bad but he had to put his foot down.

“ What? Not pretty enough?”

“No that has nothing to do with it. I’m not gonna let you do this when your drunk. Now go to bed. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.” She blinked sadly and laid down facing away from him. She was out within seconds and Nolan sighed looking down at her. He laid down on the sofa at the opposite end of her room, and folded his arm beneath his head as stared at the ceiling.

What the hell was going on?

Sawyer woke up with a raging headache the next morning. Her whole body hurt, and her mouth tasted like booze. She blinked a few times before she lifted her head and immediately put it back on her pillow. Her clothing from the night before was still on and as she curled up to snuggle deeper under the blankets her foot hit something. She froze and turned slowly to find Nolan was sitting up next to her on her bed, doing something on his phone. Her curtains were drawn shut and the room was still dark, but the the tv was on. She could hear the putter patter of rain on her window and could see the dark clouds through a sliver of window not covered by the curtain. He looked down when she stirred and smiled.

“Hey. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a train. She rolled over to face him, head still on her pillow.

“Go back to sleep. I’ll stay for a while.”

She nodded and yawned snuggling in closer to him. He reached a tentative hand up and let his fingers run through her hair. She was asleep within a few minutes, her head resting on her pillow by his hip. She didn’t remember last night and he wouldn’t tell her about it. It was a secret he would keep, and kiss he would try to forget.

Nolan never spoke of it to anyone, not his friends, family no one. It was a secret he would take with him not only for his own sake but for hers as well. He didn’t know what she was going through but what had happened last night could have changed everything. He had thankfully not been drinking at that point, because if he had he wasn’t so sure he would have stopped her. The way she had kissed him had sent a chill up his spine. He buried it, and things between them went back to normal, but sometimes late at night when he couldn’t sleep it floated into his mind, and though he would never admit it to anyone but his own conscience, he wanted to do it again.

*******

“Nolan James you are cutting this hair whether you like it or not.” His mom said as she shoved him out the door and into the car. Sawyer was chuckling as she buckled herself in the backseat. He threw his head against the passenger seat. He had worked so hard to grow it out.

“I will not have you looking like a homeless child when you get drafted.”

“Everyone wears it this way now mom-“

“Well you don’t.” Nolan grumbled, and bitched and moaned through the whole thing. His mom made him take it short, shorter than it had been in a long time. He looked clean cut and presentable, but she liked it long.

“You look SO handsome.” She said smiling at him through the mirror. He looked sadly at the long pieces that littered the floor.

“I better get drafted really high for this.”

*******

“Philadelphia selects from the Western Hockey League’s Brandon Wheat Kings, Nolan Patrick.”

Sawyer covered her mouth, blinking away the tears in her eyes. She watched as Nolan stood, and hugged his parents and sisters before turning to her and pulling her into a very long hug.

“I couldn’t have made it this far without you.” He whispered, before releasing her and walked up to the stage, and pulled on the orange sweater.

He had made it. And she was so proud of him. His mom gave her a squeeze and a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s so important to him that your here.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.” She swiped at a tear, and clapped along with the rest of the crowd as Nolan stood on the stage and officially became a Philadelphia Flyer. She knew this meant she was going to lose him, that he would be far away and make new friends, and maybe even meet the girl he would spend the rest of his life with. But he had made it and that was all that mattered. When everything was all said and done, interviews completed and photos taken, it was just them alone in her hotel room. They had broken into the mini bar, and were laying on their back in the bed. The orange jersey hung on the back of a chair, and her black dress was hung on a hanger, shoes on the floor.

“How does it feel?” She asked quietly. The sun had just started to go down, the tv was on and she was sleepy from the long day and the alcohol. He shrugged.

“Nols you got drafted today. That’s a big thing.”

“Yeah. But it means I’m going to have to leave you.”

He turned his head to look at her. He was happy about the draft, but his whole life was in Winnipeg, with his family, his friends, and her. And he would leave all that at the end of the summer.

“I’m not going anywhere Nols. I’ll be here when you leave, and I’ll be here when you get back.”

There wasn’t much talking the rest of the night. They chose to sit in comfortable silence till they both fell asleep. They spent as much time together that summer as they could, clinging on to the last moments together for dear life. They were both absolutely terrified of being without each other for the first time in almost 19 years. She would have to re adjust her life at home without him, and he would have to start over somewhere new without her.

The night before he was due to leave they hiked up to the top of that hill they had sat on the day her sister disappeared. It was dark by the time they reached the top, the sounds of nightfall echoing through the trees. The moon was high in the sky, casting a pale milky glow over the trees and hills. The light sod town seemed so far away as they sat neither one saying a word.

“Will you come visit?” He asked quietly. She nodded.

“Of course. As soon as I can. Your gonna have so much fun in Philly Nolan.”

“I guess.”

It was quiet for a while before Nolan couldn’t take it anymore. He had been dying the last few months, each day getting shorter and shorter as it passed. His time with her seemed like it was being robbed from him. He went over it a million times in his head. And he always came back to the night she kissed him. A night she didn’t even remember and he would never forget.

“Sawyer.” He said suddenly, startling her. She was so used to him mumbling his way through life it took her aback how deep his voice was when he spoke clearly.

“What?”

“Can I- I just. Maybe this is just me being…whatever about leaving tomorrow but, can I…can I kiss you?”

She sucked in a breath, feeling like her chest was constricting. They had not spoken of their almost kiss the day he took her home when she was drunk, and she had pushed it out of her mind as a pity kiss for what had happened at the school the day prior. She didn’t remember the other one, and here he was asking her to do it again. He stared at her for a long time waiting for an answer. She didn’t know why she did it, she couldn’t think of a reason, she could barely even formulate words, but somehow she managed to say.

“Yes.”

He rose to his feet and extended a hand pulling her up with him. Her heart was clocking around in her chest, as she watched his hand moved forward and came to rest on her cheek. He stepped forward, pulling her against him very gently before he leaned down and brushed her nose with his own, before he pressed his lips to hers.

It wasn’t a heavy make out like in a movie. It was soft and slow, and shorter than she wanted it to be. When they broke apart, he sighed and let his forehead fall against her own.

“I don’t want to leave tomorrow.”

******

She watched with tears in her eyes as Nolan hugged his parents, various aunts uncles and friends at the airport. There had been no more talking, or kissing the night before. She didn’t know why he had done it, but it felt like it was okay. He finally turned to her, eyes sad and took a deep breath.

“Don’t cry.” He said as she fell slowly into him, arms coming around his midsection. A series of silent tears fell from her eyes as he rubbed a hand up her back. She knew this moment was coming, but she wasn’t ready for it. He pulled back to look at her, hands resting on her shoulders. She had her head bowed, two fistfuls of the material of his sweatshirt. His mom motioned for the rest of the group to turn around, and give them some privacy.

“Nolan.” Her voice caught in her throat. He reached forward and tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear for what felt like the last time.

“I’ll see you soon.” He gave her a small smile, and let go of her still grasping her hand as he walked away towards the gate until they both let go. She wrapped her arms around her middle. She watched until he disappeared through security before she let out a choked sob. Bo, Jessi, And Chase immediately pulled her into a three way hug, and allowed her to cry on their shoulders right there in the airport.

*******

I hope you like this! It was both funny and sad and special to write! Let me know what you think💕

[everlarkficexchange]

Written by: @alliswell21

Title: One of Us

Prompt 145: She moves in with her aunt and uncle when her parents dies in a small town. After suffering through trama, Katniss slowly starts to get better with the help of her family (aunt, uncle, cousin) and the Mellark brothers. But when things starts happening to her and the people around her, it’s revealed that she and almost everyone in the towns are apart of the werewolf pack and that one of the Mellark brothers is her mate. #werewolves [submitted by @animekpopxx]

Rated: G for general audiences.

Tags: Canon Divergent!AU; Modern with a dash of Supernatural; Grief/Mourning; Feeding as a Language of Love.

Note: This is my final submission to this year's EFE challenge! Yay! I really am grateful to @xerxia31 and @javistg for their continued support of this fandom and for hosting once again this event. You are such amazing people, and I’m absolutely honored to be part of a community with people as amazing as you two are! Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for keeping EFE alive!

@animekpopxx, thank you too! You feed my muse! And you give me Werewolves!!!!

This story was a bit of rushed job, though, and there’s more of it, I mean... we haven’t seen them turn into wolves yet!!! 🤣 I just didn’t have time to edit the complete fic before the deadline, but if you’d like to read the finished product, keep an eye out for it on AO3. I’m fairly sure the rating will keep, but we will see.

 Kpkpkpk

There’s nothing but the sound of crickets and frogs filling the vast darkness of the night.

It’s another moonless night out here in Panem… or is I like to call it ‘the middle of nowhere’. It’s weird, how dark nights feel here, there’s barely a start peeking tonight, but in a strange way, I like it.

Sitting on my aunt and uncle’s porch to watch the infinite dark ahead while listening to the nocturnal critters it’s about my favorite thing to do… it’s what did used to do when we came here for long summer stays, anyway. He used to say he felt at peace and relaxed, connected with nature. Too bad it took him to be gone, for me to appreciate what he meant by that. So every night I come out here and sit in the steps hugging my knees, staring at nothing but the deep, black night surrounding the cabin, whisking my dad was sitting next to me.

Tonight is different than usual, though. It was raining until recently, and the smell of wet earth is so familiar my chest feels tight and my throat is knotted.

“Petrichor, Katniss,” I mumble the words noiselessly, “is the smell of rain, hun. It smells the same everywhere in the world.”

I lean my chin on my knees, wishing I could go back to feeling numb like when my parents just died. But thinking of the word petrichor, while smelling the thing, is bring forth a plethora feelings and memories I don’t know how to handle.

Dad used to love Scrabble, crossword puzzles and trivia challenges. He tried to get me interested in those games, teaching me words and their meanings, every time he had a chance.

I wish I had been more enthusiastic about learning the darned stuff; it would’ve meant an extra moment spent with Dad, and less regret to feel right now.

An involuntary whine leaves my chest. It hurts to think about it, and not for the first time, I dig my nails into my skin to keep myself rooted in place, and not tear running into the void.

I feel like I’m spiraling out of control, I fear this time something will break in my head and I’ll do something crazy, like scratch my skin away and run wild into the woods, like a beast… but the overwhelming thoughts gets halted when I hear soft noises from out in the distance.

It’s like the crunching of footsteps on the gravel at the mouth of my aunt and uncle’s property. It’s too dark and isolated here, deep into the country. I’ve seen big wildlife roaming around: deer, raccoons, coyotes and even a lynx. But the longer I hear the noises, the more certain I am I’m being stalked by something big and fast.

My heart beats erratically in my chest; every hair in my body stands on point, fear is clawing its way up my chest and into my throat, my eyes feel about to pop from my skull, and then I’m disentangling my knees from my arms, standing up as tall as I can— which isn’t saying much—and then I call into the night, “Who’s there?!”

I hear a faint disturbance of air, and then…

“Good evening, Katniss!”

Slowly, from the shadows, a blonde head pops, eerie for a second. Broad shoulders follow, and then a torso. Before the rest of his body comes visible into the light of the porch, two more blonde heads come into view, flank the first person on either side: Shoulders, torsos, Jean covered legs… The three Mellark brothers make their way leisurely towards me.

I nearly faint from relief after the rush of adrenaline pumping in my veins. Going through so many emotions: grief, sorrow, dread and relief, so fast in such a short amount of time has left me winded and unsteady.

I lose my balance, but one of the boys— Peeta, the youngest— breaks ranks, and rushes to hold me upright.

“Are you okay?” He asks softly, helping me sit back down on the porch steps. I lean my head against the main post.

“I’m okay. Just a little lightheaded,” I try not to glare. They gave me a fright, but I doubt they did it on purpose.

It’s something I’ve learn over the years. People in Panem are kind of quirky.

“Sorry we scared you,” Peeta offers, sheepishly. “We wanted to check up on you, and bring you something…” he looks up at his two older brothers and Rye — the middle one— steps forward, holding up a brown, paper bag, with little greasy spots on the sides.

I can guess what’s inside. They’ve been bringing me cheese buns almost daily, since Peeta found out they’re my favorites.

Rey hands the baggie to Peeta, and the latter offers it to me with a soft smile.

“Thanks,” I mumble, gratefully. I can smell the cheesy, yeasty treat through the bag; I can feel the warmth of the buns too! “While I love freshly baked cheese buns, you guys didn’t have to make this trek just to bring me a treat… on a dark, moonless night no less,” I fix them with a glare. “How did you even get here anyway? You couldn’t have walked and I never saw a car coming?”

My aunt and uncle’s cabin is at least 4 miles from town, and surrounded by woods; but then again, most houses in this weird little place are built in similar locations. It seems the townsfolk take their privacy extremely seriously.

“We rode our dirt bikes,” chimes Rye in, cheerily. “Not much light on those bulbs, though, but it’s okay. Our night vision is prime!” He gives me the A-Okay gesture.

“Rye,” the eldest, Bannock, warns lowly. Baring his teeth.

Rye shrugs and slips his hands on his Jean pockets.

I swear Rye hisses something like “it’s true” under his breath, but Peeta has been rubbing my back with the tip of his fingers all this time, and I’m getting drowsy, so I may have imagined the whole exchange.

“You should eat those while they’re still warm,” Peeta murmurs close by my shoulder.

I nod, and open the bag, releasing all the delicious smells of the buns, while Peeta massages my shoulders, encouragingly.

I must be really out if it tonight, because outside of my family, I’ve never been comfortable with people touching me… but, my family is all gone now, and I can’t go through the rest of my life without human touch, can I?

Grief stricken me out of nowhere, and barrels through me. I gasp at the acute pain in my soul at the loss of my parents. But in an instant, I’m enveloped in strong, thick arms, warm and steady. I’m sobbing into a hot, solid chest, covered in the softest cotton I’ve ever felt.

“Shush… I’ve got you, Katniss. I’m here for you,” Peeta whispers soothingly into the crown of my head.

He smells so good; like cinnamon and dill, from the bread he must’ve made this afternoon at his family’s bakery.

It takes a few minutes for me to get a hold of myself, and embarrassedly push out of his embrace, “I’m sorry,” I mumble, mortified.

Bannock presents me with a handkerchief, and I take it gratefully to wipe off my face and nose, before returning the soiled square of fabric to him.

I’m not sure why the Mellark brothers are being so nice to me. I’ve never been around them more than a handful of days over the past few years, when we came to see Dad’s remaining family outside mom and I, his half brother, his wife and their child.

I don’t know the Mellarks all that well, but in the handful of weeks since my parents’ funeral, the three brothers have been incredibly attentive and generous to me. Peeta more than the other two, but I don’t mind… I like him best anyway.

“It’s okay to cry and be devastated, Katniss.” Says Bannock, sagely. “You’re going through the worst time of your life, and we care for you… like family.”

“Oh,” I sit straighter, blowing my nose. I feel a little strange hearing him say that, “thank you? I appreciate your kindness,”

He nods, “Peeta’s right, though. You should eat the cheese buns before they go cold.”

“A full stomach always helps me feel better,” Rye adds, patting his belly, and smiling at me.

My stomach growls, as if to show agreement. I am hungry. I didn’t touch my supper earlier. I pick up the bakery gingerly, and pretty much shove my nose into it. The steam curls out of the baggie, filling my nostrils with the delicious smells. I pluck out a bun and practically inhale it in a second; quickly followed by another one. My third cheese bun, I decide to savor, slowly.

The Mellark siblings just hang around while I devour my treats.

The front door opens just as I’m wiping my hands on my leggings. My aunt’s head peeks out of the door.

“Oh, why hello everyone!” She greets, as bubbly as always. She’s wearing a dark purple wig, to match her dark purple outfit.

“Good evening, Effie,” says Peeta, standing from his squatting position next to me. “We brought Katniss a gift,” he points at the now empty bag in his hand.

“How sweet of you, Peeta!” my aunt gushes, “thank you for checking on our girl, and making sure she’s put something in her tummy before bedtime!”

I roll my eyes. Aunt Effie keeps treating me like a kid. I hate it. I’m 17 and mourning, not a freaking baby!

“It’s no problem at all, Effie! We were just on our way home anyway.”

“Well, it’s always nice having you boys over,” she offers, “but it’s getting late, and Primrose is already in bed, which is why I came out here to begin with, to let Katniss know that her sister was already asleep, so she’d know to tip toe back inside when she was ready to go to bed herself,” my aunt smiles.

I feel a slight pang of guilt; I’ve been wallowing in my own sadness this evening, and missed tucking my sister in to sleep. She’s the only person I’m sure I love, yet tonight I’ve let my own misery drown me.

“Don’t mind us, Effie,” Says Bannock, “We were about to leave…” he pauses and then calls a meaningful, “Peeta?”

“I’m going to wish Katniss a good night, and then we’ll go,” he says.

Not for the first time, I wonder if Peeta has a crush on me? I wouldn’t know he did, even if I wasn’t feeling so rotten inside. I’m not very good at flirting… but with Peeta it is different I think. He’s so nice to me, he’s taken up asking if I’ve eaten that day and if I haven’t, he feeds me something from his family’s bakery without charging me… it’s like he actually cares for me and my well-being, and his brothers care, because he does. It’s mesmerizing at times.

Peeta looks me in the eyes, “Are you ready to go inside?” He asks, offering his two open palms to me. He helps me up from the floor, and then smiles sweetly. He doesn’t let go of my hands while we stand facing each other.

Then something strange happens. Peeta doesn’t blink, as his clear-blue eyes bore into mine, and then his pupils blow out full, until only a ring of deep, glowing azure remains for his irises, “Sleep well, Katniss,” his voice sounds deeper and warmer than usual, “Rest and have a relaxing, dreamless night. Remember what I said: we are all here for you, to help through this hard time… alright?”

I feel groggy, “Yes, Peeta,” I mumble feeling my eyelids getting heavier.

“Oh dear, can you please instruct her to walk herself to bed? She might look lithe, but I promise, her little body is as heavy as any of us,”

Huh? What’s aunt Effie going on about? I don’t understand.

Peeta chuckles, squeezing my hands warmly in his, “You heard Effie… don’t fall asleep until you’ve gone into your bedroom and change into comfy pajamas.”

I nod, “Okay,”

“Good night, Katniss, I’ll be back tomorrow. Try to eat something on your own, I know you’re sad, but you need your strength for when the solstice comes.”

What a weird thing to say! Everything is strange here though… so I nod and march inside the house, mumbling my good nights to everyone and rubbing my very sleepy eyes. Once I’m in my sleep clothes, I lay in bed, and try to ignore the yearning of having Peeta rubbing my back like he was doing while I ate my cheese buns.

I sigh and go to sleep, a weird thought pops into my mind: “I’m so lucky to have such a sweet, caring mate. Peeta Mellark. Can’t wait to be bonded with him,”

[the-starryknight]

By Merlin's Hand, Save Him Rated: T | TW: Minor Character Injury | 1k

For the 2021 Summer Writin' Challenge: Week 2 Prompt: The Ocean, Trope: Time Travel, Craft: Reverse Chronology, Characters/Objects: A Forgotten God Summary: "We've got him," Draco says, as they land back at the hospital room with everything that they'll need to reverse the curse. Thanks to @hogwartsfirebolt for the speedy and stellar beta!

It's pouring down rain, thunderous and angry, but this time, the sea is raging too, splashing over the sides of the boat and sending each of them into bouts of sickness in turn. Draco is belowdecks with the other sailors because he's better at speaking Old English and the sailors' tongue, and at pretending that they're both from the seventeenth century too. So Harry's taking the latest turn at the watch, way up high in the nest where the boat’s rocking is worst, three ropes around his waist tied to the wooden mast. It’s not enough to stop his stomach from wanting to vault out of him.

He's got his wand still, at least, barely keeping a hold on it as the boat lurches and he stares into the night sky, and wonders if Merlin ever listens to prayers, because Harry's going to need some saving this time around. He's meant to be looking out for other ships or great waves, or anything that might set them to capsize but all he can see is rain and the black-blue bruise of the sea.

He hears Draco at the top of the bulkhead before he sees him, shouting into the wind, soaked through after only seconds on deck. They're both wearing thick wool and tar-coated jackets, and Harry had a hat at one point, though it's long gone, lost to the crashing, roiling waves but it doesn't matter, because he does feel a bit warmer now that Draco's there, doesn't he?

"I’ve got it,” Draco shouts, or Harry really fucking hopes that’s what he’s shouting, because he’s brandishing something gold and if it’s not the talisman they came for, they’re both going to die.

“Let me down,” Harry calls back, praying the wind would carry it down. “He’s going to be alright, we just have to get back now.”

The rain steals the words in his throat but Draco Apparates up to his side anyway and he does have it, and then they’re flying through time, the little gold Time-Turner around both their necks and all is going to be alright.

-----

“I’ve got it,” exclaims Draco, fingers spread across the surface of a massive leather manuscript, still perched on the rickety wooden ladder in a massive library in St Gallen.

The library is busy with scholars, nose-deep in their reading or caught in conversation, and no one notices Draco’s poorly draped robes, nor Harry’s badly-transfigured leather boots and the glint of the gold Time-Turner under the collar of his robe as he rushes to Draco’s side.

“Let me see it,” Harry breathes.

Draco slides the heavy tome into his hands and steps off the ladder so they can spread it out between them, one hand on either side. Harry leans closer, pressing his shoulder against Draco’s and breathing in the feeling.

“The spell takes an incantation, a golden talisman, and three stones marked in the name of Merlin,” Draco reads, scanning over the page quickly. “The incantation is here, it’s— well, it’s complex, but it’s manageable,” and he mutters some translation Harry can’t make out.

“A golden talisman?”

Draco points to the illustration, gilded and gleaming off the page. “The author of this book didn’t know where it was.”

“But you do.”

He’s already got the Time-Turner out and slung around both their necks, muttering about a seventeenth-century shipwreck — so much history lost to the seawater that day, Harry — and they’re moving, and Harry’s still got the book in hand.

-----

It’s raining outside the St. Mungo’s room, awful and unrelenting, and it’s been raining since Harry came home to drag Draco out of their bed and to Ron’s side, and Ron’s not waking up.

“I’ve got him,” murmurs Draco, pushing past Harry to sit by his bedside. “I can watch over him for you.”

He takes one of Ron’s pallid hands between his two and rubs the freckles on his knuckles like that’s going to help.

“You need to go get checked out,” Draco says, nodding towards the nurse’s station behind the door, which is bustling with mediwix and potions carts and noise. “Let me take care of him.”

Before he can go, a Healer in headache-inducing green robes walks into the room, clipboard in hand. She starts talking about a bitter, ancient curse and a healing spell lost from a centuries-old Swiss library.

Harry can’t leave after hearing that, so he stays and listens and worries and wonders if there’s any trace of Merlin himself left to protect them in their magic.

-----

Draco and Harry are playing chess together against Ron because it’s the only way that the game is fair, and Ron’s still winning. It’s an antique set that Draco dredged out of an estate sale and cleaned and repaired till it gleams like it was made fresh yesterday, even though the hands that carved each perfect marble piece are centuries buried.

Draco’s good at that sort of stuff, finding ridiculous magical objects in hoards most leave to rot and fixing them until they’re perfect again. There’s a time turner on their bedroom shelf and a prototype sneakoscope from the eighteenth century and a unicorn horn, hand-carved with protective runes and minute decorations across every surface.

Ron’s sprawled out on the couch and Draco is sitting — as he always does — too neatly, legs crossed, surveying the board like a battlemap. Harry is pacing, since he says he thinks better that way, towering over them and the board.

“I’ve got it,” Draco says, and reaches across, flicking his rook into position. Ron grins, like he does when he’s about to destroy them, and makes his move.

It’s when the knight has raised his tiny marble sword that the Patronus arrives with Robards’ panicked voice, shouting about some cache of specialized magic users with violent, rare spell books and three Aurors dead already.

Harry and Ron run, casting protective spells as they Accio their cloaks, leaving Draco amid the crushed chess pieces, smiling because he thinks they’re both coming back safe.

Read 'By Merlin's Hand' on Ao3