#one of her old work friends just called like 'I'm so glad I caught you

[featheredomen]

LMFAO I TOOK MY MUM'S FUCKIN' JOB

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Dads, Dads, and more Dads

I did something I shouldn't have! My buds all bailed on our night out, so I hit the bar and got hammered by myself. Somehow, I ended up blackout drunk in a fortune teller's shop. I remember crying about how much I wanted a fatherly figure in my life. She did this weird ritual to make me feel better. I thought it was a joke at the time, but I know now it wasn't...

"Buddy, get out of bed! Breakfast is ready!"

A pang of guilt empties my stomach. For a moment, I stare at the ceiling with absolutely no urge to eat. It's been two days since that fortune teller put a curse on me, and I have no idea how to live with myself. I obviously can't pretend her little ritual wasn't real anymore.

"Hey, Josh," I nervously answer, stepping into the kitchen to look at my roommate.

"Can't sleep all day, buddy. Eat up!" Josh gives me an endearing smile that sends shivers down my spine.

A few days ago, Josh was a lazy, rude asshole who was only good for paying his part of the rent. We were chill enough roommates, but he only ever talked to me when he wanted a second opinion on girls he saw at the gym. The guy was easily the biggest douchebag in our friend group, always showing off and making someone else the butt of his joke.

Looking at him now, I'd laugh! If only I didn't feel so guilty for his personality's erasure.

"Look at the time! I better get moving. That yard won't maintain itself!" Josh flashes the brand new watch on his wrist. The thing is clunky and old: the kind of wristwatch you'd expect a dad to wear.

"You know we're only renting this place for the semester, right?" I search his expression for any trace of the slimy old Josh, "The landlord is supposed to take care of the yard!"

Josh just chuckles and mutters something about wanting to impress the neighbors. He even has the audacity to reach out and tussle my hair. My face gets hot as a guy, only a month older than myself, treats me like a child.

That curse really screwed up his brain. When Josh found me the morning after, something just broke in him. He immediately jumped to my side and promised to help me nurse my hangover, and it didn't stop there. After he tucked me in for a nap, he drove straight to the mall, buying a whole new wardrobe of cargo shorts and polos. I thought he was just hitting the gym like usual, so when he came back dressed up like the suburban father he hates, I barely even recognized him.

"Have a good day, buddy!"

Josh ignores my protests and plants a big smooch on the back of my head before marching out of the kitchen. It was bad enough my roommate was calling me buddy! Does he really have to kiss me like that too? It makes me uncomfortable to see my scummiest friend infused with such insane paternal instincts, but this is kind of what I asked for. Right?

I slam the back door shut and look at my rusty old bike. Today is already getting on my nerves and I'm not in the mood to peddle all the way to class. Maybe, that guy next door hasn't left for work yet...

"Oh, hey there, Kiddo!"

The deep voice of my neighbor makes me relax a little. I see all six and a half feet of him climb out of the car and stare at me with the same look Josh had on earlier. He's a father of four, but ever since my night out, he looks at me like I'm him his only real son.

"Hey, Mr. Jones," I mumble back.

"Glad I caught you, Kiddo. I was just about to pull out of the driveway," he explains, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder, "You want a me to drive you to class today?"

I push aside my feelings of guilt and manage a smile, "That'd be great."

Mr. Jones beams back brilliantly. He claps me on the back, which knocks me a bit off balance. Before I know it, he's guiding me into his passenger seat and asking me to hold his briefcase.

"Just let me text work to let them know I'm coming in later than normal," he adds while texting on his flip phone, "How are classes going, kiddo?"

I shrug off the question with a one-word answer. Now that everyone's forced to act like my dad, I get asked about my classes like twenty times a day. My thoughts drift, but Mr. Jones keeps up the conversation, lecturing me about good grades or something. I don't know how a guy who barely knows me can have so many opinions about my academics!

"You know what!" I cut him off just before he starts reminiscing on his own college years, "Just drop me off at this cafe."

Worry lines form on his forehead, "Are you sure you don't want me to drive you the whole way?

"No. Just give me some cash."

Mr. Jones gives me a look of disappointment before shimmying his wallet out of his khakis. He counts off forty dollars and hands it over.

"Can I have a little more?" I press quietly.

Look, I know it's wrong to abuse this bizarre new dynamic between us, but I'm a poor college kid! If he doesn't want to give me his money, he can just say no. It's not like I'm holding a gun to his head!

"Sure thing, kiddo," he gives me a dry smile and pulls out a couple more twenties, "Don't spend it all in one place!"

"Ok, bye," I awkwardly announce and hop out.

"Wait!" his husky baritone calls from the car window, "You want a ride home after class?"

"Nope! Just go back to your own life," I yell stiffly. Even though I don't turn to watch him drive off, I hear his car pull away. It's just a car, but it somehow sounds disappointed in me too. I try to swallow the growing lump in my throat and step into the cafe for some much needed coffee...

"Morning, young man. What can I get you?"

The lump in my throat seems to get bigger when I see the waiter. He's a lot hotter of a man than I expected to find in this little cafe.

Already, the way he looks at me is shifting. That curse is transforming whatever thoughts he'd just had in his head. He's feeling more and more protective and responsible for me with every second he looks at me. At this point, I've grown accustomed to the mysterious effect I have on older guys. It's only been a few days, but I've seen so many random dudes go through this psychological transition. It's like they're discovering a new purpose in life: me.

"Uh yeah, I guess a cappuccino would be nice," I mutter with a dry mouth.

"You got it, young man!" he gives me a friendly wink, "Anything else I can get you?"

I know I shouldn't push my luck, but I can't help myself with this guy, "A hug would be nice! I've been feeling a bit isolated lately..."

The waiter instantly puts his pen and paper down and holds out his arms. His welcoming smile is gone, and a look of genuine concern waits for me, "Come here."

I practically leap into his arms, and he eagerly accepts me, pulling me into his chest like it's where I belong. It feels amazing to be held by this man, even if I don't know him at all. I could stay here all day if he'd let me.

"Seems like you're enjoying the hug," the waiter eventually chuckles into my ear.

For a second, I'm confused, but then I realize I'm fully erect and the waiter can definitely feel it poking into his waist.

"Sorry!" I jump back, searching for any other witnesses.

"Hey, don't be!" he assures me, "It's a completely normal part of life, ok?"

"You're not mad?" my voice comes out more timid than I expected, but I can't help myself. I just accidentally boned up someone who was trying to be nice. What makes it worse, is that he's probably only trying to be nice because of my ridiculous curse.

"Of course not," he affirms, "I can help you take care of it, if that's ok, young man?"

"What do you mean?" My face burns red hot.

"Oh, let me show you," he grabs me by the hand and leads me away from the table, "There's no need to be ashamed of any part of your body! In fact, this part can be a lot of fun."

I'm left speechless as the waiter gives me another fatherly wink, but I can't linger on what he's said. I'm being pulled into the men's restroom. I hear the click of the door locking behind us as he pulls me in front of the mirror, sliding up behind me. I can feel his chest on my back and his thighs against my ass.

If I was hard before, I'm practically bursting now!

"It's time you had the talk, young man," he calmly speaks in my ear like this is a completely normal thing for a waiter to do.

He starts droning on about men, women, sex, and where babies come from, but I'm not listening. I obviously know what sex is, and I think I'm having it right now. His hands slip under my arms and wrap around my waist to unzip my pants. My rock-hard cock bursts out of my jeans the second they're open, and a moan of surprised ecstasy fumbles over my lips just when the waiter gets to his point on male anatomy.

Does the waiter really believe a dad should do this for their sons?

He starts talking me through how to jack off. He must think I've never masturbated before, and I'm sure as hell not telling him that I have! Hearing him narrate every wrist movement, every ball tug, every nipple pinch is just too much fun! Before long, the waiter has me violently shooting on our reflections in the mirror.

"And there you go," he pats me on the back while I stand there stunned. The waiter steps back and looks at me like he's proud of the great life lesson he'd just taught me, "Now you know how to get rid of those boners of yours. Let me go get your coffee started."

I stand in the bathroom, collecting myself, as the waiter finally tends to my coffee order. This dad-curse the fortune teller gave me might be more fun than I originally thought. If I can get one daddy to randomly jack me off, then who knows what else I can do! Rushing out of the bathroom, I already have so many ideas flooding through my head...

"Excuse me, sir!"

"Sorry!" I shout.

In my excitement, I almost crash into the cafe's porter. A little less graceful, and I would have sent every single dish crashing to the floor. Glancing at the face of my would-be victim, I almost moan when I see get a good look at him. I can tell his head is already filling up with the same artificial need to be my father.

"No damage done," he assures me, lingering back to stare at me like I'm some lost puppy.

"Don't you...um...have to bus some tables or something," I breath nervously.

"Oh yeah," he frowns, "Sorry to get in your way."

He shakes his head like he's trying to lose the strange new thoughts in his brain. I stand there frozen like a deer in headlights as he walks away. He glances back at me before turning his attention to a cluttered table.

"Wait!" I yell, "Come back!"

The busboy drops the tub of dirty dishes and rushes back over like his life depends on it. The sight of this worried hunk running back to me makes me hard all over again.

I grab him and pull him into a hug, but his arms quickly take over and support me. Once again, my boner is rock hard and poking into the body of some random guy I just met!

"You have a car?" I ask.

"Yeah."

"You want to drive me around?"

"Of course!" he yanks off his apron and puts a hand on my back.

The waiter comes back around and hands me my coffee, looking at his coworker in utter confusion.

"Cover his shift," I demand, "He's driving me to school."

The waiter nods with an open mouth. He does look completely confused, but there's also a hint of jealousy in his stare. I think he's mad the busser gets to chauffeur me around: poor guy.

The porter doesn't seem bothered to be walking out of his job. He's busy smiling at me like I'm his whole world. I slide into his humble car and tell him where my class is. Before long, he's pulling out of the parking lot and driving me to school. I use our time to get to know him. I'm honestly not all that interested in learning about his life, but I do enjoy watching him talk. It doesn't take a while for us to get to campus, but before I get out I grab his hand and put on my best puppy dog eyes.

"I don't know when you get off work, but I'd love it if you came by my apartment. My roommate is trying to clean it up, but he could really use the help of someone more experienced."

"I love housework!" he just answers, "I'll be there!"

I snicker and slam the car door shut. I might be an hour late, but I'm finally here for class. It's time to give my professor a visit...

"Yeah, I can unbutton my shirt!"

My professor fell under my spell just as fast as the others. He had a look of anger when I walked in; probably from me skipping his class, but that expression quickly warped as he looked at me. Within seconds he was rounding his desk to give me a big old hug. Apparently, he "forgave" me for being so late.

"You like what you see?" he asks, gesturing to his hairy chest, "Trying to check out your old man?"

"You're my old man?" I ask, kind of surprised by the goofy smile on his face.

"Well, no," he bumbles, "But I am a strong male influence in your life! I'm like your dad!"

I nod my head like he's just made a really good point, "Oh. Then you probably want to treat me like your son. Right?"

"Yeah!" he holds his arms out to animate his enthusiasm.

Professor Reid has a reputation for being stiff and demanding in the classroom, so his new personality completely contradicts his true character. The man I know would never smile at a student, let alone bare his chest to them.

"So, I'm off the hook for missing today's class right?"

"Well," he pauses, "Sure."

"Can I skip the rest of the semester?"

"What, no. I want you to have a good education, my boy!"

I creep up to him and place my hands on his hairy torso, feeling the fur and the weight of his body. Professor Reid sure has a lot to hide under all those dress shirts he always wears.

"I'm just so lucky to have a daddy like you," I purr, "A daddy who's willing to do everything he can for me."

My professor grabs my arm and stares into my eyes. With a serious tone, "I am willing to do everything for you, my boy."

"Alright," I smile, "You should give me private lessons then..."

"What a great idea," he's back to grinning like an idiot.

"...and you should always do it in your underwear!"

"I can do that. From now on, I'll be stripped and ready before you come in!" He smiles at me like this is the best decision he's ever made in his life.

"Alright, now pull the rest of your clothes off," I command, "I want to see what the rest of my daddy looks like."

Mr. Reid doesn't hesitate to start stripping in front of his favorite student. I could probably get this guy to do anything now. I can already imagine our private lessons; me lounging in his leather armchair and him on his knees with his mouth full. Maybe that curse isn't a curse at all. Maybe it's actually a gift...

"Hey, buddy! How was class today?"

Josh looks tired from a long day of yardwork, but he still seems excited for me to come home. The lawn looks immaculate compared to our neighbors', and I have my roommate to thank for that.

"The grass looks great, dad."

"Dad! Woah!" Josh yells ecstatically, "Buddy, I can't tell you how much it means to hear you say that."

Josh sweeps me up in his arms. Apparently, it doesn't bother him to be the father figure of a guy only a few months younger than himself. It doesn't bother me anymore either. I kind of like that he smells like aftershave and bacon now instead of weed and sweat.

"Let's go inside, buddy. I'll cook something up for dinner," Josh says with a hand on my back. I'm already growing so accustomed to being guided around everywhere.

"Actually, I invited a guy to come over," I admit, "He can cook. You should relax. You got a lot of work done today, dad."

"I did, didn't I?" he smiles proudly, "Let me grab a beer, then. We can watch TV."

"Actually, I thought there might be something else you'd enjoy."

"You know me so well, buddy. What are you thinking?"

"You could bend over the couch..."

Josh cringes and shakes his head. Once again, it's like he's fighting the foreign thoughts entering his head.

"...I know how much you like to make me happy, and I really want to pound ass right now."

For a second, a look of horror flashes over his face, but it's gone in an instant. A bright fatherly smile spreads between his cheeks.

"That sounds perfect, buddy. Enjoy yourself."

Josh doesn't look away as he unbuttons his cargo shorts, smiling at me with love and devotion the entire time. He seems completely relaxed as he bends over the couch, and he only seems to become more comfortable as he spreads his cheeks apart.

Once again, I'm rock hard as I stare at one of my dads. This curse might have made me feel guilty before, but Josh said it himself.

I think I will enjoy myself.

Thanks for the ASK, Vebrendos

[msilwrites]

Papa Bear Material - (Captain Price Fic) - Matchmaking Chapter 1 (Shorter Version)  Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9

A/N: I hope you guys can be patient with me as I set up the scene and context for the story! I know you might be eager for Papa Bear John, so if you can't wait, feel free to scroll all the way down or check out the short version. But if you’d like to enjoy the full background and get all the details leading up to the moment, stick around here for the original version. Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoy! Warning: Mention of child abuse in the story. Summary: Y/N is a reserved former constable and master sniper in the London police force, now working full-time as an artisan. She reconnects with old colleagues at a grill house for a catch-up, where her former junior, Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick, tries to play matchmaker. Gaz’s attempt to set her up with the retired SAS and Papa Bear material, Captain John Price, is met with resistance as Y/N is caught off guard by the unexpected attention.

Y/N stepped into the familiar warmth of the grill house, the smoky aroma of sizzling meat mingling with the distinct hum of rugby commentary from the TV above the bar. The place had that well-worn, comfortable charm—like an old friend. She spotted her old colleagues almost immediately, seated around a table, beers in hand, laughter spilling into the air.

“Oi! Look who’s gracing us with her posh, artsy presence!” came the teasing voice of one of the officers. “You still wearing them fancy shoes, Y/N?”

Y/N rolled her eyes, a half-smile playing on her lips as she made her way over. "Oh, please. I’d have to sell a few more prototypes just to afford these," she said, giving her Gucci Princeton Leather slip-ons a quick glance. "You know, designing and crafting, prototypes for others, specially demanding architects and students—it's harder than catching a criminal on a Sunday shift."

The group laughed, and one of them raised their glass. “Come on, that’s not true. Bet you’re all over the art scene now, living the dream!”

“Sure,” she said, narrowing her eyes as she slid into her seat, “if by ‘living the dream’ you mean sometimes starving in a studio, getting rejected by every gallery in town, and designing things no one’s ever heard of, yeah, it’s just like the movies.”

They all burst out laughing again. One of the lads signaled to the waiter, who was making his rounds. "Oi, get her a proper drink," he said with a grin, "she looks like she needs it."

A tap of beer was quickly placed in front of her, and she gave her colleagues a mock glare, but couldn't help but smile. "You lot are too kind. Just wait ‘til you see my next masterpiece—a painting of you lot after too many pints."

As the laughter faded, they began catching up, each group diving into stories and teasing. "Any funny incidents lately?" one of the officers asked, a grin spreading across his face.

Y/N raised an eyebrow. "Oh, plenty. You lot wouldn't believe half of them, but I'm still waiting for the call-up for my big art show... not holding my breath, though."

The conversation shifted, and soon enough, someone asked, “When’s your next reservist shift, then? You’re still doing that, right?”

Y/N leaned back in her chair, taking a moment before answering. "Ah, next month. Got my refresher course first, so I'll see you lot after that." She picked up her glass, the cool beer sliding down her throat as she sighed contentedly.

It had been a long day—too long. But, she was glad to be here, catching up with these old faces, the familiar rhythm of their banter and laughter settling into her. The worries of her day faded, replaced with the warmth of good company and the taste of a well-earned pint.

The table buzzed with laughter and the clink of silverware as everyone dug into their meal. Y/N, content with a bite of lamb chop, was about to take another when Kyle’s voice broke through.

“So, Y/N,” he said with a mischievous grin, leaning forward, “how long’s it been since you’ve been single?”

Y/N paused, looking at him like he’d just asked if she wanted to run a marathon. She narrowed her eyes, the chop still in her hand. “You’re not about to start playing matchmaker, are you, Gaz?”

Kyle shrugged nonchalantly, completely unbothered. “Well, you know... I might have a perfect guy in mind. Could introduce you next time.”

The table erupted into teasing shouts, and a few of the women at the table nudged her playfully. “Ooh, a ‘perfect guy,’ eh?” one of them said with a sly smile. “Sounds like someone’s trying to get you out there, Y/N!”

“Yeah, yeah,” another girl chimed in, grinning. “You can’t stay single forever, love. You need to live a little!”

Y/N laughed, raising her glass of beer to her lips. “I’ve been living plenty, thank you very much,” she said, taking a sip. “I’ve been single since I was 22. Too much going on in my life. Can barely keep up with myself, let alone anyone else.”

One of the guys leaned in, grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t just keep dodging the love life thing forever. You’ve gotta try at least once. Who knows? Maybe this ‘perfect guy’ will be just what you need.”

“Or,” another woman piped up, waggling her eyebrows, “he’ll just be an excuse for a nice date night and some free food. Win-win.”

Y/N put a hand on her chest, feigning shock. “Oh, I see how it is. You lot just want me to get free dinner at someone else’s expense!”

Kyle laughed, raising his beer. “Well, if you don’t like him, I’ll pay for the meal myself. But I’m tellin’ ya, he’s worth a shot.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her tone dry. “Tell you what—if I get to choose the place, I’ll consider it. But no more ‘perfect guy’ nonsense, alright?”

Her colleagues cheered, raising their own glasses. “To Y/N’s perfect guy!” someone shouted, and the table erupted into more laughter.

Y/N just rolled her eyes, taking another bite of her lamb chop. “Alright, alright. You lot are relentless.”

As the teasing continued, Y/N raised an eyebrow, clearly curious. “Alright then, who’s this ‘perfect guy’ Gaz has in mind? One of your mates?”

Kyle leaned back, clearly proud of his matchmaking skills. “Yeah, mate. His name’s Price. Former SAS, top bloke—don’t let the gruff exterior fool you. He’s solid. Got a good head on his shoulders.”

The table went silent for a moment. Some of the guys and girls exchanged glances, clearly impressed by the mention of SAS.

“Ooh, SAS, huh?” one of the women said, grinning. “That’s like, the real deal, right? Tough, mysterious, probably has a six-pack or maybe even eight! Hidden under all that tactical gear.”

“Oh yeah, totally,” another guy added, practically waggling his eyebrows. “Rugged, muscular, probably a bit brooding. Can already see the whole ‘I’ve been through the worst’ vibe.”

“Sounds like someone’s got a lot of mystery about him,” one of the other women teased, nudging Y/N with her elbow. “Could be just the thing you need, Y/N. A real adventure.”

Kyle, clearly delighted by the reactions, went on, “Yeah, you’ll like him. He’s been through the ringer, mate. The kind of bloke you don’t wanna mess with. Tough as nails.”

The group went on, each person adding their own humorous speculation about Price’s rugged, mysterious persona—tough military training, intense eyes, dangerous aura. The teasing was infectious, and everyone was in on it now, laughing and playfully suggesting how wild or sexy Price must be.

But Y/N’s expression had already shifted. Her hand, still holding the lamb chop, froze mid-air, and she stared into the distance, her eyes darkening as she took in what Kyle had said. The laughter around her faded into the background, her own thoughts taking over.

One of the guys, noticing the shift, raised an eyebrow. “You okay, Y/N?” he asked, clearly sensing the change in her mood.

Y/N blinked, breaking out of her thoughts. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “Yeah, fine,” she said quietly, but her tone was noticeably subdued.

Kyle, still excited, didn’t notice. “I’m telling you, mate, he’s a proper top guy. You’ll get along fine with him, I’m sure of it.”

But Y/N’s eyes had taken on a more somber look. “Yeah, maybe,” she muttered, her voice much softer than before. “Look, I’m not saying all military guys are the same, but…” She paused, her hand tightening around her beer glass. “My father was ex-military. Bit of a bastard, to be honest. Mentally and verbally abusive. So, I’ve... never really been into that kind of thing, if I’m honest.”

The teasing stopped abruptly. The table grew quieter as her words sank in. Kyle, finally sensing the shift, looked at her with a soft expression. “I didn’t mean to bring up anything heavy, Y/N. Just thought I was being helpful…”

Y/N gave a small, weary smile, waving it off. “It’s alright, Gaz. You didn’t know.”

One of the women, noticing her mood, reached out and gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. “Hey, you don’t have to meet him, Y/N. No pressure.”

Y/N nodded, the smile returning just a little, though it was faint. “Yeah, don’t worry about it. I’m sure he’s a great guy. Just not sure I’m ready for... anything like that right now.”

The table grew quieter as the conversation shifted away from matchmaking and towards other, lighter topics. Laughter bubbled up again, but Y/N’s mind wandered back, the memories creeping in despite the cheerful chatter around her.

Her father… It didn’t take much to bring his image to the forefront of her mind. The memories of him were sharp and unpleasant, lingering like an unshakable shadow. He’d been in the military for years before moving into MI5 when she was a child. After he retired, though, he never really left the mindset behind.

She could still hear his voice in her head, cutting through the air, as if he was right there. The constant little digs—his sharp tone when he'd see her, trying to maintain that military discipline, as if he could control every aspect of her life. Every time he looked at her, it felt like he was seeing an enemy, like she was still just a soldier under his command.

He’d belittle her. Criticize everything, from her clothes to how she held herself, as though she were an extension of his authority. It wasn’t just the verbal abuse, though. There were moments where the anger would spill over. He’d hit her, sometimes, not out of frustration but out of a need to keep her “in line.” If she argued or disagreed with him, there were times he’d drag her out of the house, leave her stranded in the middle of nowhere just to teach her a “lesson,” and then come back hours later, violently pulling her into the car as though nothing had happened.

Y/N shook her head, pushing the dark thoughts back. She’d spent so long trying to bury them, trying to focus on anything else that didn’t make her feel like a child again, helpless under his control.

It wasn’t until that one night when she was 19—kicked out of the house, no place to go, just a bag and nothing but cold streets—that she decided enough was enough. She didn’t have the luxury of time or an easy choice. She’d had nowhere to go but a friend’s couch for a few nights, and that’s when she made the decision: she would join the police force. She needed the money, the stability, and more than anything, the chance to break free from the past.

The police program offered her a way out, an escape, a way to stand on her own two feet and start building something for herself. At the time, it also came with education, which was a huge draw. She could pay for her tuition while working, get the training she needed to eventually leave all that behind. She’d never intended to stay long in the force, but it turned out to be the best decision she could have made, even though it came with its own set of challenges.

Her eyes flickered back to the table, the laughter still ringing around her, but now muffled, distant. She had come a long way since those dark days, but sometimes—like now—the weight of it all crept back in.

It was easy for her to laugh along with the others, easy to let the jokes flow. But sometimes, when the noise died down, she could still feel the sting of her past, just beneath the surface.

Her thoughts snapped back to the present as someone nudged her elbow. “Oi, you alright, Y/N? You went all quiet there,” one of her friends said, concern lacing their voice.

Y/N blinked, shaking herself free of the memories. She smiled, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah,” she replied, taking another swig of her beer. “Just a long day, that’s all. Don’t mind me.”

They didn’t press further, thankfully, but she could feel their eyes on her for a moment before the conversation shifted again.

The laughter from the table faded as everyone began to gather their things, slipping out one by one into the cool night air. Y/N lingered for a moment, the clink of glasses and murmurs of her friends still echoing in her ears, but it felt distant now—like a tune she was no longer part of. As she stepped outside, the damp pavement underfoot caught the glow of the streetlights, each step sharp and purposeful. She let out a long breath, the chill of the evening sinking into her skin. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d needed this—quiet, space to herself, far away from the constant chatter and noise that seemed to follow her every move.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, snapping her from her thoughts. She glanced down at the screen. An unknown number. Normally, she wouldn’t even bother answering, but something told her to check it.

She unlocked the screen and swiped open the message.

"Hi, Y/N. John Price here. Gaz gave me your number. We should grab a drink sometime. Maybe chat about a few things. Cheers."

Y/N stopped dead in her tracks, eyes narrowing. Her thumb hovered over the screen as her mind scrambled for a reaction. John Price. The John Price? The former SAS legend, now retired, and apparently still involved in some highly classified business? What the hell was Gaz thinking?

"What the fuck, Gaz!!!" Y/N hissed under her breath, staring at the message with disbelief. Her gaze snapped up and scanned the street. She could see her friends walking ahead, far down the street now, their backs turned. Gaz, that bloody menace, had passed her number along without a second thought.

She stormed a few paces ahead, but her steps were more frustrated now. Her mind raced as she considered her options. She didn’t want any part of whatever ‘chat’ Price had in mind. She wasn’t a fool—she knew how these things worked. She could already picture the smug look on Gaz’s face when he thought he was doing her a favour, setting her up with some ‘good guy’ from his circle of military buddies. But military men… well, she had enough of that in her life already.

Y/N scrolled through her contacts, her fingers moving like clockwork. She was about to fire off a quick response to tell Price to kindly go to hell when she caught sight of her reflection in a shop window. Her face looked tired, the exhaustion from the day finally catching up to her. She could feel the cold seeping through her coat, and for a moment, it was like the weight of everything—the years of trying to make it on her own, the trauma, the nightmares—settled right back on her shoulders.

She quickly closed her phone and shoved it back into her pocket. A drink with John Price? Yeah, that was definitely not going to happen. But Gaz? He was going to hear about this. She didn’t care if he was busy with some top-secret ops or whatnot—this was a step too far.

"Next round’s on you, Gaz," she muttered to herself as she walked toward the corner, feeling the familiar mix of annoyance and amusement begin to churn in her stomach. ----------

Y/N's eyes fluttered open to the soft light of the morning, spilling through the gap in her curtains. The events of last night—Gaz's matchmaking attempt and the unexpected message from John Price—already felt like distant memories, lost in the haze of sleep. She groaned and stretched, her arms reaching out before she swung them over the side of the bed and planted her feet onto the cool wooden floor.

She was hungry. More than that, she was starving.

With a deep sigh, she pushed herself to her feet, feeling the weight of yesterday’s long hours still in her bones. Her body moved on autopilot as she made her way to the kitchen. The smell of fresh coffee hit her senses before she even flicked on the kettle. The day ahead was full—pottery to finish, pieces to deliver, and the usual grind of meeting deadlines for design projects. But the pottery was the steady foundation. It brought in consistent income each month, even if it required hours of backbreaking work.

The market was always a good outlet for her—hands-on, personal, where customers could appreciate the craftsmanship and effort she poured into each item. She enjoyed the physicality of it, the quiet satisfaction of shaping clay into something functional and beautiful. She had a reputation for it, too—well-known in the area for her distinctive, handmade pottery, with a smooth, glossy finish that always caught the light just right.

After a quick breakfast of scrambled eggs and bacon, she shuffled into her workshop. There was something grounding about the familiar rhythm of her craft. The kiln had cooled overnight, and her latest batch of pottery—plates, mugs, vases, and a few statement pieces—was ready for inspection. Y/N carefully removed the items, one by one, from the kiln. The glaze had set perfectly, giving each piece a rich, lustrous shine. She ran her fingers over the smooth surfaces, admiring the precision of her work. Her hands were still stained with the evidence of yesterday’s labor, but it didn’t bother her. It was part of the process.

As she carefully packed the finished pieces into protective wrapping for transport, she nodded in approval. She may have put the hours in, but the result was always worth it. The market would love these.

Later, Y/N stood in front of the mirror in her bedroom, examining her reflection with a critical eye. She’d always believed that people treated you better when you looked your best—when you seemed approachable and friendly. And since she was about to step into the public eye again, it was important to put a little effort in. She applied her makeup with precision, the soft strokes highlighting her features, then slipped on a small pair of gold-plated silver earrings that added a touch of chic to her look.

She was wearing a loose white linen shirt with long sleeves, its cuffs casually rolled up. The shirt was light and breathable, perfect for a day of carrying boxes and setting up her stall. Over it, she tied her craftsman apron—dark, worn from years of use, but still functional, with enough pockets to hold all the tools she needed.

Her wide-legged chinos reached just to her ankles, the fit comfortable and practical, paired with her slip-on loafers—a soft, leather pair she’d had for years. It was casual yet still put-together, an outfit that made her feel at ease while still ready for whatever the day might throw at her.

She practiced her smile in the mirror—a grin that wasn’t too forced or strained, but warm and inviting. Some days, it felt like a performance. But she’d learned long ago that a good smile could sell a piece of pottery. And that was what she needed today: to sell, to engage, to make her art speak for her.

With a deep breath, she adjusted her apron, straightened her shoulders, and gave the mirror one final smile before grabbing the first box of finished work.

She had a day of selling ahead. And though sometimes the world felt heavy, she was ready to face it head-on. Her pottery, her designs—they were the bright spots in her life, the reasons she’d fought so hard to keep going, to stay grounded.

With another steadying breath, she stepped out into the cool morning air, the day ahead waiting for her.

-----------

Once Y/N had finished unpacking and arranging her wares at her stall, she took a moment to step back and admire the display. The pieces were neatly arranged—vases catching the light, mugs stacked just right, and her signature pottery glistening with its smooth, glossy finish. She felt a small sense of pride bubble up, but it was quickly tempered by the hustle of the market around her. There was no time to linger; there were customers to engage, products to sell, and a whole day ahead.

Grabbing her phone, she tapped into the group chat with her friends, which, of course, included Gaz. A small smile tugged at her lips as she typed out a quick message:

“Hey guys, I’m set up at the market today—stall 30 if you’re in the area and fancy dropping by. Would be good to catch up if you have the time! 😎”

She added a few relevant emojis, then hit send, tucking her phone back into her apron pocket with a sigh. If they could make it, great. If not, no big deal. It would be nice to see a familiar face, but she’d already grown accustomed to the solitude of her work.

As she glanced up from her phone, she was met with the hustle and bustle of market-goers milling around her stall. Some stopped to admire the pottery, others just passed by, lost in their own little world. Either way, it was all part of the game. She adjusted a few pieces that had shifted during the unpacking and waited for her first customer of the day. -------------

Y/N was arranging the last of her pieces when a tall, broad-shouldered figure stepped up to her stall. She glanced up, quickly taking in his dark blue shirt, trim hair, and the kind of build that made him look like he could carry a truck on his back if he wanted to. The guy looked like Papa Bear material—muscular, solid, and with a presence that seemed to fill the space around him.

He stood still for a moment, his eyes scanning over the pottery on display, then back at her. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly attractive he was. He had the kind of look that made heads turn, even if he didn’t seem to be trying. She could feel a little flutter of nerves creeping in, but she pushed it away, focusing on the pieces in front of her.

"Hi there," she said, forcing a smile as she adjusted a mug on the table.

"Hey," the man replied, his voice deep and steady. "You’ve got some brilliant work here."

Y/N nodded, her hands still busy with arranging. "Thanks. I’ve been at it for years, trying to get the perfect finish."

There was a pause as he looked at her again, this time with a more direct gaze. “You’ve definitely nailed it. Everything looks... well, perfect.”

Y/N felt a little warmth in her cheeks. What’s with this guy? she thought, still unsure of why she was feeling so off-kilter. He didn’t strike her as the type who would be interested in pottery, let alone strike up a conversation about it.

Then, with a small smile, he stepped forward and said, “I’m John, by the way. Gaz sent me.”

Y/N blinked, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of Gaz’s name. Gaz? The first thought that shot through her head was, No, no, not this again. Her stomach turned as she realized that Gaz hadn't given up on matchmaking her with this Papa Bear of a man. Gaz!! You matchmaking bastard, why'd you do this to me!!

She tried to shake off the feeling. "Gaz, huh? Of course. I should’ve known."

John’s smile softened. “Yeah, he said I should come over and introduce myself. Said you’re someone I should meet.”

Y/N gave him a wry grin, glancing at the ground for a moment. "That sounds like something Gaz would say." She forced a casual tone, but inside, she was already second-guessing everything.

There was a brief, knowing pause between them before John continued, his voice a bit quieter but warm. "I’ve seen the pictures Gaz sent me... you’ve definitely exceeded that. And you look even better in person."

Her heart pounded, and she could feel her pulse picking up, but she didn’t want to let him see how much his words affected her. Gaz... you absolute idiot.

John continued, stepping a bit closer. "I don’t usually do this, but I’d love to take you out sometime. Dinner, drinks... whatever you fancy."

Y/N felt a flush creeping up her neck. This was it, wasn't it? Gaz and his matchmaking nonsense had really gone this far... She looked up at him, her expression softer now, but still holding a hint of surprise. This guy wasn’t just tall and fit; he was exactly the kind of person Gaz would go on about.

“Look, I am a little busy right now... uhhmmm,” she said, but there was a small, teasing smile playing at her lips.

John smiled, his eyes twinkling with something playful. “Take your time. I’m patient.”

Y/N sighed inwardly. Gaz hadn't given up on this... She couldn’t help but feel the pressure of it all, even as she admired John's presence. Big guy, military background, and that soft, paternal charm. She’d met her fair share of tough guys, but there was something different about John Price. The way he carried himself—genuine, steady, and disarmingly kind—was impossible to ignore. A/N: I do hope you enjoyed that one! I’ll be writing another chapter when inspiration strikes, or feel free to drop any suggestions you might have! On to the NEXT CHAPTER ----->

[brains4brawn]

Stolen Fate

The youth plopped in front of me and hunched down in the previously vacant seat. He was a pretty average, round face with glasses, a grey sweater, earphones and a skateboard.

I glanced out my window to see a group of jocks searching the train terminal for for who I assumed was the youngster across from me. With my raspy voice I told the boy to duck down as a gaggle of bullies started to peak through the windows heading our way. He scrambled down and pressed himself against the outer wall, just underneath the train's window. The athletes seemed to give up the hunt and gathered in the lobby. My old heart sank as I realized the leader of this group of miscreants was my own grandson Lachlan.

In fact, the seat across from me was reserved for him so he could accompany me to the city for some shopping. I sighed. I knew my grandson was a bad egg, he had been caught more then once bullying kids. My daughter and her rich husband always made whatever problems Lachlan had go away. This ride was supposed to set the boy straight, that's why I had spent over the last 6 months enchanting this train ticket.

Now the ticket was reacting to this strange boy. On an impulse I handed the ticket to the boy just before the conductor came to punch it. There was a brief flash of golden light and the youth sat back down into his new seat. I heard a soft thanks as he sighed with relief.

"Now Dear, whom do I have the pleasure of saving today?" I asked in my raspy voice.

"M...M.....M....My name is Davis Kent ma'am" he stammered.

"Nice to meet you Davis. I'm Marlene Anderson, but you can call me Grams, everyone else does."

Davis sat a bit higher, a subtle golden glow surrounded him.

"Thank you Grams, You really saved me from those stupid jocks," he said with a touch of confidence.

"Tell me about yourself Davis"

"Not much to tell, I'm 18 errrr.... ugh... 19 going to college"

"And those other boys?"

"One of them, Lachlan use to be my friend, then he found out I was gay, now he and those football stooges hunt me down for fun" Davis had a startled expression and moved to cover his mouth.

I cackled as only an old woman can, "Hehehehehe, that's quite alright dear. I've been a supporter of your rights for years now."

Davis just stared at me, mouth ajar. "Thank you Mrs. Anders........ Grams"

I nodded in approval, and a sense of excitement. The tunnel was coming up and this particular enchantment works better when no-one can see.

Flash......... Flash...............Flash

The glow settled down and now an older Davis sat across from me.

"Davis, have you had any luck on the job hunt?"

"Not yet Grams, It was nice for Mom and Pete to host me at their house during the summer, got to play with Lachlan a little bit, but he was to busy to hang out with his older Bro."

I was a bit surprised, but the new memories soon filled in. Davis was now my elder grandson and step brother to Lachlan.

"I'm so glad you could ride with me back to the city Grams, It's been like forever sense you and me could spend some time together."

"Were you able to find a place to stay while out on the job hunt?" I asked. Curiously the golden glow still was there changing him slowly as we spoke.

"A few of my college friends went in together on a three thousand square foot loft on the north side of town. They said I could crash there while I find a job."

"Any boys I should know about?" I asked, just to see his face flush.

"N.....n......n.....no Grams I'm kinda in-between guys right now." he said with an embarrassed stammer.

The glow started to intensify as we passed into a deep forest where the sun was barely visible. In the dappled light the changes progressed even further.

"Hey mom, thanks for coming with me to the city, Greg and I need all the help we can packing and what not."

I stared at the new Davis, almost 30 with a loving, long term boyfriend Greg.

Davis was now my youngest, born when Lachlan's Mom was 15.

"Are you excited to be working in such a small town?"

"Mom....ugh..... I know... I know.... Greg and I have discussed this. Working as a corporate drone was draining me, and well he can work from home anywhere with an internet connection. Anyway, I want to put my History and Sports Medicine degrees to good use."

I was just giving the poor boy a hard time. Secretly I was overjoyed that he and Greg would be moving closer to family. Lachlan had been getting into a lot of trouble lately, and having a pair of strong male influences like Davis and Greg could be just what the boy needed. Plus as both the high school football coach and history teacher Davis could keep an eye on her troubled grandson as he tried to graduate a second time.

Davis kept being oblivious to the golden aurora and I was getting nervous. I liked this Davis and I didn't want him to change but as we entered the city the sun was being blocked by the high rises.

"Ma, you ok?" the deep bass voice rumbled as a huge hand shook my knee.

I nodded, as more new memories assaulted my mind. Davis is still my son but now he is twins with Lachlan's mother. He and Greg are still together, only now they have kids.

Oh my God, I have more grandkids to spoil! Five, to be precise: 3 boys and 2 girls!!!!

I felt my knee shake again and I could see the look of concern in my eldest's eye.

"Ma you sure your alright? I can go into town to pick up the boys. You could just rest here at the depot."

Knowledge poured into my head, I could remember why Davis and I came to the city. Lachlan..... only not the original Lachlan..... My oldest grandson had now grown up with his uncles Davis and Greg plus his 5 cousins who saw him as a role model. He was now a bright and kind boy with a sense of responsibility. He had graduated early was now in his second year at state university. He was also JV Quarterback and quickly rising to be an All-Star for nationals.

We pulled into the station and a thick wall momentarily blocked the sun. Davis's final change settled on him. Along with a fantastic husband and great kids, Davis was now the first openly gay Head Coach at a major University. I am so proud of the man he's become.

We get out and stretch our legs, Davis now stands at incredible 6'8" and weighs about 300 lbs. He commands the attention of every passerby. Some even want to take pictures with him and he basks in the attention he receives.

Shaking my head I give an over-exaggerated cough. My big man turns around and blushes, then we make our way through the throng of onlookers to the busy streets.

The city is packed with people as pride is in full swing. Everywhere is color and celebrations of what makes us unique. I was enthralled with the spectacle of it all that I didn't notice we had found Lachlan and his boyfriend Tristian Kent.

[thepossumwrites]

Glad You're Home, Asshole

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Reader (no gender specific language used)

Word Count: 1,640

Warnings: swearing, reader is american and a streamer

A/N: this is so self indulgent. the time period is modern obviously, since the reader is a streamer, but Draco and reader are in their like . . . 20's-30's. just dont worry about it

this might become a little one shot series, not sure. currently hyperfixating

The Ministry was probably the most boring place in the world. 

Draco Malfoy sat back in his office chair, sighing deeply. That would have to be enough for today. He closed the book he was looking through, setting it off to the side. There were so many archaic laws still to sort through, Hermione was right when she told him it would most likely take him years of diligent work. Still, he was grateful for it. This was what he was good at, the superfluous language, the knowledge of what went through the minds of a group of aristocratic wizards. His job was to put the past into the present and hand that information over to those who could make a difference. Already he’d been instrumental in helping overturn old laws that had no bearing in modern society. It gave him a sense of accomplishment, of pride. 

He stood, collecting his suit coat and bag. He knew you’d be waiting for him, he had promised you he’d either call you by 5 pm to tell you he was going to be late, or he would be home by 7 pm. A quick glance at his watch told him that it was 6:45 pm, so he’d have to be quick. 

Heading to one of the designated apparating stations, he left the Ministry with a crack. 

He landed in the mudroom, setting his suit coat and bag down. The house was warm, inviting, a space that instantly melted the stress of work and the outside world off him. As he makes his way through the house in search of you, he remembers what it took to get here. 

An American in Britain always stirred up some emotion from the native peoples, an American magic user in the Ministry of Magic stirred up more than just emotion. Draco is the first to admit that British magic users still had a long way to go when it came to the acceptance of certain people by and large. He still had to catch himself every once in a while when he interacted with muggles. He’d met a couple Americans here and there, but generally in passing, generally muggle. He couldn’t remember the last time he spoke to an American magic user, he genuinely may never had before. But when you caught his eye as he walked through the Atrium he couldn’t move as you walked over, a smile brightening up your beautiful face.

He could tell you were American from the way you dressed, the way you let your emotions dance across your face. You were animated in a way his compatriots generally weren’t. It was . . . refreshing, he decided in the moments it took for you to reach him.

“Hi! I’m so sorry to be a bother, but I’m looking for someone and the stupid sim card I bought for my phone isn’t working, and this place is just massive. Could you tell me where Regina Hillspire’s office is?” Your voice was animated as you smiled through the whole sentence.

He hesitated for a moment, caught up in the magnetic pull of your being. People didn’t really smile at him at this point, didn’t really ask him for anything outside of a professional capacity, and even then it seemed forced. Here you were, making solid eye contact, your voice melodious in a chorus of one notes. 

“She’s a friend, you see, we met online. I stream actually, and we started talking because we both play this really cool game. She invited me to visit, and I've never been to Britain before so I figured ‘why not?’! I just got in, so on top of the sim card thing not working I'm also super jet lagged. If you don’t know where her office is, that's totally cool, I can maybe find it?” You looked around, the hesitancy of your conviction evident in your face.

Draco looked to the side, needing to divert his gaze to hard reboot his brain. After a moment he nodded and turned back to you, “Yeah, I know her office. It’s just down the hall from mine, let me walk you there.”

You smiled wide, “Great! Thank you so much! I’m Y/n by the way.”

“Draco,”

“Nice to meet you, Draco.” 

You started walking, following Draco as he weaved his way through the labyrinth that was the Ministry. You were quiet as you two walked, and it didn’t sit right with him. He liked hearing your voice, a fact that he filed away quickly in a box labeled “eh”.

“So . . .” He started after they walked into an elevator and the doors whispered shut, “You stream?”

You nodded at him, “Yeah, generally I stream video games, sometimes I do other things. Right now i’m streaming a run of a new game, I got early access to it so I could stream it. That’s my favorite, I think, introducing something new. It’s really cool.”

You were definitely introducing something new to him.

“Do you . . . I mean can I . . .” He didn't know how to ask how to watch your streams. He’d never played a video game before, let alone watch someone play one. 

You looked at him with expectant eyes.

Before he could figure out how to ask, the elevator doors opened, depositing the two of you onto his floor. Instead of finishing his sentence he strode out, his long legs propelling him down the hallway at a clipped pace. You struggled to keep up for a moment, chasing after him. 

After a couple seconds he slowed down, giving you an apologetic look. You just waved your hand and smiled.

It didn’t take long to reach Regina’s door. They could hear her talking behind it, most likely on the phone. 

“Well, here’s her office.” He stuck his hands into his pockets, unsure what to do. He didn’t want to leave you, he wanted to ask you about your streams, talk to you about your life. He wanted to be selfish and take your time away from your actual friend. But he couldn’t do that, the only claim he had of your time was this simple act.

“Thank you so much,” you responded, smiling happily.

He nodded and turned, intending to head to his office and wallow. 

“Hey Draco?” 

Draco stopped in his tracks, turning back to you with an eyebrow raised.

“I would love to go on a date with you.” 

For the second time that day Draco hesitated, this time his surprise flashing across his face. He watched as your smile slowly turned down and into a grimace.

“Or is that . . . not what you wanted to ask me in the elevator?” 

“I . . . no that’s not what I wanted to ask you." His words were slow, brows knitting together.

You nodded slowly, your gaze flicking from his face to the closed door of Regina’s office.

“But!” He said quickly as you reached for the handle, “I would really like to go on a date with you, if you have some time during your visit.”

You quickly looked back at him, face lighting up. Warmth spread through his chest, warming the tips of his ears and making him feel slightly drunk. He really liked your face, liked the look of it when he made you happy. 

The rest, they say, was history. Two short years later and you had moved in, you were sleeping in his bed and letting him call you darling, baby, honey, love. He fell more in love with you every day, and today was no different. 

When he didn’t find you in the living room, he knew you had to be in your office. The day you moved in Draco had installed a light next to the door frame. Green meant he could come in, red meant you were streaming or working on something and couldn't be distracted. 

The light was green, so he quietly opened the door and headed inside. Your streaming room/office was a gorgeous extension of your personality. It was filled with the things you loved, the things that made you you. Draco had had a marvelous time helping you set it up, basking in the glow of you being with him all the time. 

Right now you were contorted in your computer chair, noise canceling headphones on, wrapped in a blanket he’d had since Hogwarts. It was dark in the room, the only lighting your two monitors as you stared intently at the one that held the game. 

He crept up behind you, wanting to see what you were playing. The second monitor had a game page on Steam up for a demo, a horror game it seemed. He smiled softly, you did say you’d try anything once. 

You flinched suddenly, hitting pause on the keyboard so quick your hand was a blur.

“Holy shit,” You muttered, taking a deep breath. “What the fuck was that?”

Draco had to stifle his laugh, watching as you steeled yourself. You hit play again and move your mouse, the first person view point shifting, lighting up a tree with a figure behind it, its eyes black and its smile wide. He chose that moment to place his hand on your shoulder.

You screamed, jumping up and ripping your headphones off, reaching for the wand that was placed neatly in a holder on the side of your desk.

“It’s me! It’s me!” Draco laughed, holding his hands up.

Your breathing was ragged as you took in the site of your boyfriend. You glanced at the clock on your desk, “Draco! What the fuck man??”

“I’m sorry love, I couldn't resist.” He smiled the world's most infuriatingly charming smile as he swept you up in his arms.

You grumbled but let him hug you, sighing heavily, “Glad your home, asshole.”

He laughed once more and kissed you, “So am I.”

[seaoflove07]

Love Planted a Rose 🌹

~ Dark ~

• Artwork by The Drawables •

Full Art Cover and Story Description, Here.

OCXCanon. 🔪 Azusa & Christine’s Story. 🌹

Fan Fiction Written by Me.

Fandom: Diabolik Lovers.

Masterpost.

Monologue

Sadness...

Sadness is all I can feel now.

I was just slowly recovering from my heartbreak from Mark.

But now, I was sent here to Japan.

To be a blood whore to vampires.

My hands can’t stop shaking.

I have no escape...

What will wait for me when I go back to the Mukami mansion?

Azusa is gonna attack me for this.

He’s gonna see Reiji’s bite marks.

No makeup will be able to cover these marks.

I keep shaking...

Knowing that this hell of a night will not end...

- The scene starts in Yui’s Bedroom -

Yui: “Christine-san, I brought you some lavender tea. I hope it calms you a bit.”

Christine: “Thank you, Yui.”

She grabs the tea with shaky hands.

Yui: ... ...

“It saddens me to see you this way. I apologize again for not checking on you earlier.”

Christine: “It’s not your fault and don’t worry, I’ll be okay.”

She takes a sip of the tea.

“Mmm... it tastes really good. So this is your room?”

Yui nods.

Christine: “I see you like the color pink. We have that in common.”

A smile spread on Yui’s lips.

Yui: “I’m glad we have that in common...”

“Christine-san? How is it going with the Mukami Brothers?”

Christine: “A lot of weird things have been happening lately… but I was able to get to know a little bit about Azusa’s past. Because of that, my heart aches for him and I can understand why he's the way he is.”

Yui: “So that's a good thing that the two of you are getting closer.”

Christine: “To be honest, he doesn't leave me alone but I’m kinda getting used to it.”

Yui: “Why doesn't Azusa-kun come with you here?”

Christine: “I think Ruki doesn't let him. I don't know why.”

Yui: “I see. How do the rest of them treat you?”

Christine: “I don't interact much with the other brothers. I can say Ruki is the one I talk to a little more when we are doing chores together and thankfully, he hasn't tried to suck my blood. With Kou and Yuma, I have made a few small conversations when we eat together at the kitchen table. I'm with Azusa the majority of the time.”

Yui: “I see. It’s a good thing that the other brothers haven't sucked your blood. I still think Azusa-kun chose you and that's what’s keeping the other brothers away. Who knows? Maybe Azusa-kun and you will fall in love.”

- Christine gave her a sharp look -

Christine: “I don't want to fall in love. I've been in love before and that ended badly. I'm still not fully recovered from it. I'm not doing that again.”

Yui: “You’ve been in love before!? I'm sorry it didn't work out. I don't want to get into your business, but… I want to get to know you. What was his name?”

Christine: “Mark…We dated all throughout high school and college. Well, he is still in college. My courses were shorter than his.”

“But long story short, I was madly in love with him, he was my first everything. My first love, my first kiss, and the one I lost my virginity to. I honestly thought we would grow old together...”

“At first, the relationship was going well until he got tired of me and was treating me like garbage. What makes me angry with myself is that I let him verbally abuse me to his heart's content. His words were so bad that I began to believe him and tried to do my best to be good enough for him…”

“But nothing was good enough for Mark, and we were having terrible arguments every day. He was calling me, “Fat” telling me I needed to lose weight. I ended up having an eating disorder for a while, and that's not all, he did more terrible things to me and I was starting to get depressed. But I still stayed with him.”

Tears run down her cheeks.

“Then he began to cheat on me behind my back. A friend of mine from back home caught him with another woman at a party and she told me about it. When I confronted him, he told me he was done with me and left me broken…”

(My heart aches so bad…)

“I was stupid for not having the courage to break up with him first. But if I'm being honest with myself. I think it was best that he walked away first, because…”

More tears keep running down her cheeks.

“I don't think I would have let him go… I'm so stupid and was blinded by love! So you see, Yui. How can I give my heart to someone after this? I don't think I would be able to handle a second heartbreak.”

- Yui suddenly hugs her -

Yui: “Oh, Christine-san! Please don't say that about yourself. You are not stupid. You were just a girl in love. But there is always a second chance of happiness, you just haven't found it yet. I'm sorry that the relationship with your first love didn't end well.”

Christine: “Don’t worry, I'm fine. It took me a while to move on with my life… but now, I ended up here and it's not going any better. All I have to do is try to survive.”

Yui breaks the hug.

Yui: “Keep surviving Christine-san and stay strong. Please, don't harm yourself ever again by not eating. You are beautiful the way you are.”

- Christine smiles -

Christine: “Thank you, Yui for your kind words, and don't worry I will never go through that again. No man is worth starving for, I know that now. I love food and I eat good portions now. Also! You are beautiful too.”

Yui: “E-Eh!? No, I'm not.”

Christine: “Oh stop! Yes, you are.”

They both giggle.

Yui: “Thank you, you are so nice. Say, Christine-san? Have you figured out what Karlheinz-sama wants with you?”

Christine: “No. Ruki told me he would keep trying to find out any information. Have you heard anything? Maybe from one of the Sakamaki’s?”

Yui: “No. Ayato-kun and the rest of the brothers haven't mentioned anything. I don't think they know either. Karlheinz-sama is a very mysterious man and he never fully discusses his plans…”

“From what I heard the Adam and Eve plan is still not completed. But out of all the brothers, he does send letters to Shu-san since he is the oldest. Usually, when he sends out plans or orders for everyone, Shu-san is the first to know, so maybe… you should try to ask him.”

Christine: “Gosh! Is that the sleepy one? I doubt he will be any—”

- The door opens -

Ayato: “Chichinashi! I was lookin’ everywhere for you. Whatcha doin’ in your room with Chihuahua?”

Yui: “A-Ayato-kun! I was helping Christine-san since Reiji-san bit her and—”

Ayato: “Four eyes? Hahahaha!”

Christine: “It is not funny!”

Ayato: “Stop yappin’ You already hog my Chichinashi long enough from me. Now be gone! I want some alone time with her.”

Yui: “You are being rude!”

Ayato: “The fuck you talkin’ about?”

Christine: “It’s okay, Yui. Don't worry. I'm not offended. Besides my work shift is over so I'm gonna go and try to find Kou so we can leave.”

Yui: “Alright then. I'll see you next Friday, Christine-san.”

Christine: “Yes, see ya. And thank you for everything, Yui. Have a good weekend.”

Yui: “Thanks, you too. Be safe!”

*TimeSkip*

Christine was walking through the hallway and saw Reiji walking towards her.

Christine: (Oh No!!...)

They both stopped and stared at each other not saying anything for a while.

Reiji: “Your manners earlier were foolish, and you certainly need a lot of discipline.”

He walks closer to her and runs his fingers on the bite marks on her neck.

“I will say my marks look lovely on your skin and the taste of your blood was high quality for being a mere human.”

Christine: (I feel disgusted with his touch but I don’t push him away. I don’t have the energy and I don’t want to repeat what happened earlier tonight...)

Reiji: “You are remaining quiet I see?”

He grabs her chin.

“You sure are a beauty, but you lack manners. I need to start training you. With my training, you would become the perfect lady.”

Christine: !!!!

“W-What do you mean by—“

Kou: “Reiji! Let go of Kujaku-chan.”

He shoves Reiji.

Reiji: “Don’t you dare put your filthy hands on me again! Or I will snatch them next time.”

Kou: “Fufu~ I would like to see you try.”

He looks at his watch.

“Guess it will have to be another night. Our time is up.”

- Kou grabs Christine’s hand -

“Let’s go. It’s time to go back to the manor.”

*Timeskip*

- In the Limousine -

Kou: “Kujaku-chan! I left just for a tiny moment and look what you got yourself into! Ruki and Azusa are gonna scold me for this.”

Christine: “You should have known that it takes only a second for the Sakamakis to take any opportunity.”

Kou: “Dammit! And he got you good. Your neck is full of his marks.”

Christine: “I’m aware! I need to hide from Azusa.”

Kou: “You must be dumb, there is no hiding from us. We can smell your scent anywhere, even if you hide he will find you. Also, Reiji’s scent is all over you.”

Christine: “Fuck! So I guess another torture awaits for me.”

Kou: “You sure have a dirty month.”

- The limousine stops -

“Well Kujaku-chan, we are home, get out.”

*Timeskip*

Once Christine got to the mansion she didn't see Ruki and Azusa. So she immediately walked nervously towards her room. She was getting close but felt someone was behind her.

Azusa: “Rose-san, welcome back.”

She froze for a few seconds and slowly turned around to face him.

- Azusa flinched, then furrowed his eyebrows as he stared at her -

Azusa: “Say, Rose-san? Who’s marks and scent… that is all over you belong to…?”

Christine: … …

(I’m so afraid that I can't even answer…)

Azusa: “I see... so… you have someone else you prefer...”

Christine: “No! Azusa. Please let me explain it’s not what you—”

Azusa: “You do not have to explain... Just tell me... who was it...?”

Christine: “It was Reiji.”

(I can hear my heart beating like crazy…)

Azusa: “... I see...”

… …

“Hit me… show me… that I’m needed… here… cut me with this knife… Christina, Justin, and Melissa… would like to have more friends…”

He walks closer to her.

Christine: “No! Stay back! Please, don't come near me.”

She steps back.

Azusa: “Why…?”

Christine: (I can see the anger on his face…)

“Because I know what you're gonna do to me and… I don't think I can't handle it tonight. So, please. Go away and leave me alone.”

(His hands are shaking…)

- Azusa drops the knife to the floor and grabs her wrist tight, pulling her closer to him -

Azusa: “I will not go away…!”

- He suddenly pins her down -

• Artwork by @//yuma-mukami-garden-god •

Azusa: “Don’t you see, Rose… This jealousy is killing me…! Do you know… how messed up in the head… I am… because of you…!”

Christine: “I haven't done anything to you! You're the one who is always after me, and It’s not my fault that Reiji bit me!”

(There’s still anger in those lavender eyes...)

Azusa: “You chose me, Princess... you came into my dreams… and now… you are my precious Rose … I will not let you get away from me...”

Christine: “What are you talking about, Azusa!?”

Azusa: “I will not let anyone else.. have you…”

He stares at Reiji’s bite marks and pulls down the strap from her dress.

Azusa: “This will hurt… but... please endure it... okay...? I will... remove his marks... from you...”

Christine: (Oh no!…)

- Azusa bites on the exact same spots Reiji did -

Christine: “Ah!”

She holds on to him tight.

*Slurp, Slurp*

Azusa: “Aah…It’s always so very sweet… It is sticking… to the inside of my throat... I can't get enough of it...”

He keeps biting her deeper and deeper, making it hurt a lot.

“...Nn... Haah, haah...”

*Gulp, Gulp*

Christine: “Please! I can’t bear anymore…It hurts too much...”

She tightens her grip on his shoulders.

Azusa: “Does it...? But I can still see... traces of him... so please... endure it a little longer...”

He bites her again.

Christine: (This pain! Is like I can never escape it. Is this going to be my life from now on?…)

- Christine starts sobbing -

He sucks a little more before finally stopping and licking the new marks.

Azusa: “I don't know why… my heart always aches… every time… I see you cry…”

He wipes her tears.

“Come…”

He helps her stand up and hugs her.

“I’m sorry... Rose-san... You can hit me… it will make you… feel better…”

Christine: (His apology and sudden hug took me by surprise...)

She hugs him back.

“No Azu... I don't want to hurt you, and even if I wanted to, I don't have the strength. I’m feeling dizzy. I lost too much blood tonight...”

(I feel my head spinning now...)

Azusa: “I‘ll take you to your room...”

She tried walking but the second she moved her foot she fell backward, Azusa caught her in time and lifted her up in his arms. He takes a moment to stare at her lovely face.

“Rose-san... you fainted on me again...”

He admits he’s still angry about the fact that Reiji bit his Rose. Suddenly a Flashback comes to his mind of warnings from the Princess.

Flashback

Azusa: “Nn... Hah... Nn.... Princess...?”

Princess: “Yes…?”

Azusa: “Can I bite you...?”

Princess: “No Azu. I need to warn you about something before our time is up. Even though we belong to each other. There can be situations that won’t allow us to be together. Human me is very vulnerable right now, and destiny can be changed. You need to be careful someone else doesn’t claim her before you do.”

Flashback Ends

His heart sank just by the thought of her being vulnerable to Reiji. He can not allow not even an inch. His hands began to shake badly even having her in his arms. His heart doesn't stop aching.

Azusa: (Even though I love being physically hurt but emotional pain makes me so very uneasy. I will not hand her over to anyone. Much less, Reiji...)

*TimeSkip*

When Christine woke up she immediately went and took a bath and got ready for tonight. She has a headache and the marks from her neck still hurts. Two vampires suck her blood the same night. It’s a miracle she still has a neck attached to her, she thought. She wanted a cup of coffee and breakfast but first, she needed to thank Azusa for bringing her to her room safely after she fainted. She knocked on his door but he didn't answer. She was about to leave thinking he wasn't there but suddenly she heard breathing.

She opens the door and walks into his dark room.

Christine: (I can smell a strong scent of blood…)

Shock washed over her at the sight of Azusa sitting on the floor with a lot of blood, and him holding a knife still cutting himself.

Christine: “Azusa!!”

She runs to him.

*Stab, Stab*

- Azusa kept cutting himself, lost in his thoughts with tears in his eyes -

She kneels in front of him and grabs his hand to stop him.

Christine: “Please… That is enough… Azu.”

Tears filled her eyes.

Azusa: “Rose… what are you doing here…? And… why are you crying…?”

Christine: “I wanted to say thank you for bringing me back to my room safely, and I'm crying because… it hurts me to see you harm yourself.”

Azusa: “You don't like it… when I am…hurt...?”

Christine: “No, I don't like it. It breaks my heart to see you like this.”

- More tears kept coming down from Azusa’s eyes. -

She gently took the knife away from his hand and placed it on the floor.

“What happened?”

Azusa: “… My life… has always been a disaster… and I wanted to forget… this strong emotional pain… that I'm feeling… right now…”

Christine: “Azu, I'm truly sorry that life was so hard for you.”

She cups his cheeks.

“I know, I probably won't fix your problems. But I have told you before that whenever you feel this way, please come find me and I'll be here for you. There are other ways to cope with emotional pain, and I promise you I will find a way to keep you entertained. There are so many places we can go together, and I remember you told me one time that you don't mind, if I read poetry to you. I would be happy to read my favorite poems to you.”

He sighed and gave her a gentle smile.

Azusa: “Would you really do that for me…?”

Christine: “Yes. Plus, the more time we spend together, the more we get to know each other. Wasn't that something we both wanted?”

He cups her cheek.

Azusa: “Rose… I’ll do anything… to keep you near me…”

Christine: “A-Azu…”

Azusa: (Her cute blushy face, I love seeing that side of her. She has no idea how much she means to me and how scared I am of losing her…)

“Rose-san…? Will you..stay by my side…regardless… Even on my worst days…?”

She nods.

Christine: “Yes, I will.”

They both smiled at each other.

Azusa: “Thank you, Rose-san… I'm feeling a bit calmed… because… you are here with me…”

Christine: “I'm glad that you feel calmer. Azu, your arms are bleeding a lot. Let me clean and put new bandages on your wounds and then we can eat breakfast together.”

He nods and they both stand up.

*TimeSkip*

After Christine and Azusa ate breakfast together she was happy to see that Azusa calmed down and was in a better mood. Now she was in the manor’s library with Ruki dusting the shelves and organizing books. It was the weekend and her day off but Ruki asked her if she could help him with some chores in the Library. Since she loves reading and the library she said yes. She did promise Azusa to meet up with him after she was done. Tonight she will read some of her favorite poems to him. She's excited since she always wanted to do this with someone.

Christine: “Ruki, what do your brothers and you like to do in the summer? Sorry for the sudden question. Is just we are already in mid-summer and I haven't seen you guys do anything fun.”

Ruki: “You sure are nosey, Livestock. My brothers and I don't do much. The majority of the time we just stay here and do our own things.”

Christine: (That seems so boring! And I'm getting bored myself. I haven't done anything fun since I got here…)

“How bought next weekend we all go together to the beach?”

Ruki: “And why should we do such a thing?”

Christine: “I just think it will be fun and I can tell that you and your brothers are close. I also feel that Azusa needs this trip. It can help him clear out his negative thoughts.”

Ruki: “Hmph... Very well, I think this trip will be good for my brothers. But we are not going to the beach. I do not want to deal with the mess of the sand. That will be troublesome, so the Hot Springs seem like a better idea.”

Christine: “Hot Springs! I've never been to one but I have seen photos online and they do look nice and relaxing.”

Ruki: “I will book everything for the upcoming weekend. Just make sure you are prepared.”

Christine: “I will!”

(I’m so excited for this!…)

Ruki: “Oi, Is just a hot spring, nothing to be that excited about. Now be gone. I don't need you anymore in the Library. I got it from here.”

Christine: “Okay, I'll take my leave now.”

Monologue

I got lucky that Ruki suggested the Hot Springs.

I honestly thought he was gonna say no about all of us going anywhere together next weekend.

So for that,

I am happy.

I truly hope that Azusa can relax and clear his thoughts.

Even though,

Him and I go through rough nights together,

I still want to be his emotional support.

I don't understand his feelings towards me

and I

Don't understand my feelings towards him either.

But Hopefully,

With this upcoming trip.

The both of us can try to heal in some way.

— TO BE CONTINUED —

• Artwork by MonMonArtz •

[prolix-yuy]

The Reason for the Season

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: What does Christmas mean after the world falls apart? Ellie sure doesn't know, but Joel knows who might.

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: T, some suggestive thoughts, one steamy kiss, teen angst and a whole lot of yearning! Our reader is given the following attributes: a history of Christmas celebrations, a father, and while not stated in the fic, she was old enough to be a teacher when the outbreak happened. While this story is not explicit, my blog and the content shared on it is 18+ MINORS DNI.

Notes: Hello to my sweet Sil @psychedelic-ink! I'm your not-so-secret Santa and I'm here to deliver your holiday fic! And doubly, your birthday present! I’m so glad we got to meet on this wild app, and may your holidays and your birthday be as amazing as you!

You asked for something very Christmas-y with some friends to lovers romance, and boy did this get out of hand! I hope you enjoy Joel finding a little Christmas spirit.

Cross-posted on AO3

There’s little sacred in the world anymore, but making the morning cup of coffee might be as close as Joel gets. The early rising, his bedtime vestments crumpled and stretched across tired muscles. The soothing routine: the mug, the pour over coffee dripper, and the Holy Beans. Every movement is seamless, practiced and almost sightless for those mornings when he can’t peel his eyes open. All in service to the first sip, and the glorious awakening it will bring.

Though with the clattering of Doc Martens and teen angst coming down the stairs, it’s not necessarily needed.

“Mornin’,” Joel rumbles over the mug, eyebrows raised at Ellie’s earlier-than-usual scowl. She opens the fridge, every movement thrown to the extremes of her small frame. Bowl clattering, spoon chiming against stoneware, a worrisome glug of milk, and she returns to flop into her seat across from Joel. He takes another sip, maybe a little louder than usual.

“Sounds the same going in as coming out,” she grumbles, but the half smile she allows is a triumph. 

“Told you not to listen in on a man’s morning movements.” Ellie scrunches her nose up at that, jabbing her spoon into some granola. She’s only moving it around, not partaking, and Joel sets his cup down on the table. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looks down his nose at her.

“Something on your mind?” 

Joel was never much for beating around the bush with Sarah’s moods, and he certainly hasn’t changed much with Ellie. She sighs and lets the spoon clatter back into the bowl.

“What the hell is up with Christmas?” 

The question works better than the coffee, brain scrambling into overdrive in much the same way as when he caught Ellie holding a beat-up Bearskin magazine.

“Well…” he starts pensively, but Ellie bowls right through his low hum.

“Like some of the kids celebrate it and others don’t, but neither of them know why. Everyone’s arguing about something called Santa. And they’re bringing trees inside!” She tosses her hands, giving him a weird am I right look that butts against his confused expression.

“FEDRA didn’t teach you kids about Christmas?” 

Ellie shrugs, folding her legs up into the kitchen chair.

“I’ve heard of it, but y’know…not exactly high on their list of priorities.” She starts worrying at a small rip in her jeans until Joel snaps a warning look. He just bartered for those, he won’t have her hurrying them back to scrap.

“I’ve kinda been…pretending I get it.” She trails off, face closing back up and Joel recognizes the outburst for what it is. Embarrassment.

“Well, Christmas is something that, uh…that lots of families celebrated before. It’s, uh…it’s a time at the end of the year to be…you know, to be together and thankful. That sort of thing.”

He can practically hear her eyes roll.

“But what the hell’s a Santa, and trees, and all the baking?” Her finger shoots up, angled directly at Joel. “I know there are presents!”

Joel scoffs, taking another sip and ruminating on how to tackle a tradition he’s barely paid attention to since the outbreak. It all felt so insignificant in the winters following, only a counter for how long he’s suffered so far. Then, when things calmed a fraction, the idea of opening his heart to anything remotely like thankfulness made him want to bloody every knuckle. 

So he tucked his chin and paid no attention to parents trying their best to give their children something bright in the darkest days of winter. Tess never mentioned it, the shine in her eyes at candles lit in windows hard to distinguish from tears. And now, twenty-odd years later, he can barely fathom where to start. 

“There’s a lot of traditions, variations. I don’t remember half of ‘em, but…” A sudden spark of an idea, a way to cheat out of this conversation and not get sulked to death over it, catches the corner of his mouth. “But I think that teacher you like might have some books about it.” 

Ellie’s face lights up, abandoning her bowl to go galloping back up the stairs to her room. “Eat something first, then we’ll go,” trails up behind her. Joel savors the last bit of coffee before rising to rinse the cup, his own smile tugging at his lips. Shouldering his heavy winter jacket, Ellie wolfs down four bites of her granola while still in motion. Wiping her chin with the cuff of her jacket, she shoots a shit-eating grin at Joel as she heads to the door.

“Don’t think I didn’t catch that, old man,” she sing-songs as they move into the bracing Wyoming air. “Always looking for an excuse.”

“Whaddya mean?” he asks with as much nonchalance as he can muster, but Ellie’s raised brown and carefree shrug clearly don’t buy it.

“You’re a lousy liar, Joel.”

Not as bad as you think.

The schoolhouse is not much more than a converted home, the ground floor filled with bookshelves and improvised desks and controlled chaos. By the time Joel and Ellie came to Jackson it was well established, but Maria explained how it changed hands and struggled for years before the current teacher. 

“It’s hard to prioritize learning over survival, but it’s the only way we move on as a community,” she said as she led the pair through their Jackson orientation. Ellie had been sighing heavily and dragging her feet - “school is boring, Joel, why can’t I go on patrol?” - before Maria led them into the kitchen. 

“And here’s who we have to thank for dealing with our wild ones,” Maria said, and you looked up from your work. 

The first thing Joel noticed was your smile. It spread so easily across your face, unselfconscious and radiant. You extended a hand to Ellie first, who suppressed enough of her ennui to act pleasant. Joel was next, enveloping her cool fingers with his large palm. He blanked on your name that time, needing to ask Maria privately for it, but the warmth and lightness of your presence could be blamed for that. 

Joel didn’t believe in love at first sight, but that meeting sure as hell paved the way for the private and closely guarded crush he had on you now. 

Ellie took a liking to you almost as quickly, and Joel could see why you were successful when others might have failed. You assessed her mood with ease, redirecting her dread to a section of the schoolhouse that held instruments. She moved immediately to an old guitar, cross-legged on the floor with the too-large instrument in her lap. 

“Can you teach me how to play this?” she asked, and you admitted to only knowing a few chords. 

“I can,” Joel piped up, his own voice surprising him. “I know how to play.” 

Twin bright eyes danced on his face, and he struggled to keep the flush from creeping past his collar.

“If you have some time, I have other students who would love to learn.”

And that’s how on some afternoons Joel found himself showing a handful of teens on the cusp of adulthood how to strum chord progressions. He viewed it as a duty to the community…or at least that’s what he said when Maria and Tommy asked. It was also the perfect excuse to stop by early and chat with you, or scrutinize a leaky window or dripping faucet. Anything to keep him in the same room as you taught simple math or reading comprehension. 

“Any time you want to bring that handiness by my place you’re welcome,” Tommy teased when he caught Joel waving you goodbye on the well-trodden path home. 

“You take better care of your place, you won’t need help,” he spat back with no fire. Tommy shrugged, hands stuffed into his jeans pockets. 

“Just sayin’, that schoolhouse might withstand another apocalypse with all the work you’ve done on it. I hope its proprietor is…appreciative.” The cheeky wink eggs on a shoulder punch that almost becomes a wrestling match between two men who should know better. Instead Joel calls Tommy a name and Tommy laughs and Joel stares at the ceiling that night wondering if you would be…appreciative of what he’d like to give you. 

Only some of those thoughts are pure in nature.

But the years, even the kind ones, have choked up his tongue and made him a coward. You’re clearly eligible, no other men sniffing around much to Joel’s surprise. He doesn’t think it’s completely one-sided either. You smile at him and put your hand on his shoulder and stand close enough that he can smell your soap and gentle musk. And what’s worse is you’re something rare to him, something miraculously unsullied by twenty years of hell. He didn’t think it was possible for someone to survive without hardening, without breaking and mending over and over until the repair is the whole self. But you are still kind, and understanding, and gentle, and open. There’s only one reason Joel can attribute to this rarity. 

Someone loved you.

Someone loved you so very much that they protected you, let you be open-hearted and trusting even with the world crashing down. And if that someone is no longer here, that’s a hole he can never fill. But every day he spends in Jackson shedding years of plate armor and barbed wire, he contemplates if he might be getting closer to someone who could at least try. 

In the meantime he makes his excuses, much like now, and suppresses the little smiles and giddy feeling in his stomach. 

“Been meaning to check on that plumbing issue she had last week,” he says breezily, snow crunching underfoot and the chill air nipping at his nose. 

“Suuuure, I bet you’d love to see her plumbing,” Ellie snarks, sprinting away as Joel’s face heats up.

“Watch your fucking language, kid,” he growls, the irony not lost on him, as the schoolhouse comes into view.

You can always tell when Ellie arrives. The kids born after the outbreak have a peculiar set of social norms and rules. You’re not sure if she even knows that she should knock before entering, or take her boots off. Then again, it’s an exercise in contemplation when you consider why those societal norms would return when their framework’s been shattered.

Keep your boots on in case you have to run.

Don’t announce your entrance in case something’s lurking.

A whole other etiquette you watch like a zookeeper behind glass.

“Good morning Ellie,” you call from the kitchen. Your heart flutters briefly wondering if…

“Morning, ma’am.”

Joel ambles into the kitchen, massaging heat back into his palms. His cheeks are ruddy with windburn, and you bite the inside of your lip considering how your own hot palms could warm them. 

“Good morning Joel, didn’t expect you in so early.” Dusting your hands off, you round the counter to step into his space. A little game you like to play: how much more obvious must you be before he’ll notice you’re flirting with him? Another brushed shoulder, squeeze of the forearm, eyes connecting a second too long. Thrilling yes - it’s been a long time since you’ve had a crush - but at this rate you’ll both be ninety before either of you admit it. 

“Ellie has something to ask you,” he says, turning to look for his ward. The strange wording patters your heartbeat into an uneasy rhythm. 

“Should I be worried?” you laugh, Joel’s deep brown eyes coming back to your face with a sheepish smile. Oh god, when he smiles your knees can barely handle it.

“I might have passed the buck on a conversation.” 

Before you can ask Ellie slips into the kitchen, weaving around Joel’s wider frame and hopping up on one of the barstools surrounding the kitchen island. The ones Joel made with those strong hands and thick fingers.

“What’s the deal with Christmas?”

The question catches you off guard no matter the preamble. 

“Um. Huh. Well, I guess…what do you want to know?” you ask, sidling around to lean across the counter from her. Joel is still in your peripheral, practically filling the door frame.

“Everybody’s talking about it,” she bemoans, taking a dried apple slice you’d laid out and turning it on the countertop. “And I keep pretending it’s like, so awesome, but I just don’t…get it.” Her thumbnails pick at the leathery edge of the fruit, and the child you’ve watched pressure girls twice her age into shenanigans softens around the edges. 

“It’s all, ‘my family does this, my family does that,’ and it’s like…I never had anyone to celebrate with before. FEDRA did some stuff with us, but it was…” A shrug, accepted without comment. “And they all seem to love it, and I maybe want to…feel that.” The hedging makes you lean further over, grabbing your own apple slice and turning it between your fingers.

“Well, Joel must have told you there are a lot of ways people celebrate the holidays.” Looking up to Joel he grimaces slightly, raising one shoulder in apology. “And there are lots of different traditions. I’m not surprised you’re confused.”

“Yes! Is Jesus like, Santa’s kid or something?”

The stifled laugh comes straight out of your nose and you have to clear your throat to keep from snorting further. 

“Okay, there’s a lot to unpack here but tell you what, I’ve got a plan.” Ellie looks up at you with a guarded sparkle in her eyes, and it only widens your smile. “Let me do some research first. There are things I don’t know either. So how about you come back next week and I’ll tell you what I’ve learned during the tree decorating.”

Ellie raises an eyebrow. “Tree decorating?”

You must be glowing by now. “Oh, you are in for a treat.”

Leaning against the doorway, Joel takes in the scene. Ellie’s moment of vulnerability, buried back under her feigned indifference. The excitement bubbling under the surface of your smile. 

The way you lean over the counter, the curve of your back only accentuating your shapely ass as you sway slightly. 

Fuck, maybe he should just come out and confess his crush so he can at least feel awkward when he sees you instead of embarrassingly horny.

He’s relieved Ellie suggested coming to you. Your solution to his problem is simple and brilliant, a weight lifting off his chest. Sometimes Ellie is no different than his child, and other times Sarah’s memory makes the smallest endearing unbearable.

Sarah’s mom had taken care of the holiday explanation, navigating the unique customs of their little household. She explained why they had a tree and a menorah, and who’s Santa and the Festival of Lights. When Sarah got older and started asking more pointed questions, they both sat down and explained all their traditions and why they were important. Joel had, admittedly, been more of a supporting role, but for their family it worked. 

Then Ellie had to pitch that question at him, looking up like Sarah had, though so much smaller, and his throat closed up. He knew she needed it. Hell, maybe even he could use some holiday cheer, but Ellie was too no-nonsense and Joel was too out of practice, ripe for bungling it up.

He’ll have to thank you in some way. Though there’s not much to fix nowadays, and if he spends much more time here volunteering he might get roped into actually being a teacher. 

“...and since it’s your first time, you get to add your own ornament to the tree. It can be anything you want, and at the end of the holidays we pack it up with the others for next year.”

That’s it, he thinks. A small way to repay your kindness. He has some scrap wood in the communal woodshop, and most evenings are quiet there. There must be a coping saw in some toolbox, a few rasps and awls. 

“That does sound pretty cool,” Ellie says, and where you might have thought it to be begrudging, Joel can clearly hear her excitement. 

“I think you’ll love it.”

That week was one of the busiest - and sneakiest - that Joel could recall in recent years. It seemed to be the same for you, watching you flit around town with a battered notebook and chewed-up pencil. You were talking to people, smiling, laughing. Whatever the conversation was made everyone else smile too, throwing fond looks at each other. Sometimes playful bickering, or conspiratorial whispers followed, and you gathered up all those words into that well-worn notepad. 

Joel, on the other hand, was making himself more scarce than usual. He kept up appearances, not slacking on patrols and showing up when he’s expected, but every free moment is spent in the woodshop. 

He could have gone the simple route, cutting slices out of some nice quality wood, something with a live edge, but it was too simple. He wanted something that would make you light up, your mouth drop open and your eyes sparkle. 

Further back than he’s willing to count, he remembered a fellow contractor showing him gifts he made for his daughters each year. Beautiful wooden snowflakes, carved in geometric shapes that would reveal tessellations and patterns when glued together. 

The idea seemed simple enough, but it had been a long time since his hands had done anything delicate. The pattern was easy to make, but as he dragged the coping saw along the curves and points his hand would cramp, or the blade would zig when he wanted it to zag. He’d get up and walk around the shop to shake out the frustration, telling himself it’s only four more pieces…for this ornament. 

When he feels like giving up and tossing the whole project in the trash, he thinks of the feeling he’ll get when you hang them on the branches, the way you might touch his arm or look into his eyes when you thank him. 

And then he thinks that forget the mistletoe, he’ll kiss you whenever and wherever you’ll let him.

On the fourth day of hiding in the woodshop Ellie bursts in, halfway through a sentence before she even gets in the door.

“...and I haven’t gotten her anything and I know she’ll get me something so like, what should I…” Her entrance startles him, yanking a rag over a freshly glued ornament. 

Too slow, old man, he thinks as her eyes snap to his attempt at deception.

“What’cha got there, Joel?” she asks, sly smile matching her embellished cadence. 

“Just workin’ on things, what were you talking about?” he deflects, leaning on one elbow to hide the mess behind his shoulder. Ellie nods, understanding stark on her face as she ambles up.

“Oh sure, since when have you ever cared what I’m talking about?”

Joel can’t stop the hurt look dashing across his face, leaning forward. “I care…”

Tricked! Ellie’s hands dart under his arm and yank the cloth away, exposing the half-assembled ornaments and lengths of twine.

“You’re so fucking easy…” she starts to say, but the words stop when she sees the mess underneath. 

“What are those?” she asks, and for a moment Joel wants to snark something back at her - none of your goddamn business or don’t make fun of me - but then he realizes she probably doesn’t have any idea what they are. What would she have seen adorning a tree? Maybe dried fruit, popcorn, little trinkets that people saved hoping one day they could have Christmas again? 

So he clears his throat and makes himself vulnerable. To a teenager. Easily one of the scariest things on this earth, cordyceps included.

“They’re for the tree lighting. Had a buddy who used to make ‘em, and I thought it’d be a nice gift for…to the schoolhouse. For being so helpful and all that.” He can feel his ears reddening but Ellie hasn’t taken her eyes off the snowflakes. She traces one of the finished ones, pointer finger running along the edge he dulled with an ancient rust-filled rasp. “You hang them on the tree.”

Ellie’s quiet for a moment, inspecting and nudging the pieces around, before she finally speaks.

“They’re cool. I didn’t know contractors could make pretty things too.”

Joel snorts, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll let you know I’m a man of multitudes.”

She snorts, the tension breaking, as Joel moves pieces around to show how they fit together to form the abstract snowflake shape. As he’s explaining the process she’s shockingly quiet, but everything is open - eyes, ears, half-parted mouth. If he’d known this was something they shared he would have built things with her ages ago.

“Is one of these mine? The one I can bring?”

Joel mulls for a moment, tapping fingers on the workbench, before he hauls himself up to stand.

“Nah, I’ve got something better for you.”

It takes a few minutes of searching for a suitable wood piece not being used for something important. Then a few more to saw off a round, sweat beading on the edge of his hairline and biceps tensing. Ellie’s eyes widen when he hands her the wood circle, ushering her back to the workbench. 

“I think somethin’ more personal would be good to bring. How about you write your name on it?”

Ellie’s eyes narrow, playfully mistrusting.

“Just my name?”

“You’ll see.”

As she writes and erases about six times, Joel hunts through the workshop for the little woodburning kit he spied weeks ago. It’s janky, but it doesn’t electrocute him when he plugs it in. He waves Ellie over and takes the wood, admiring her no-nonsense script. 

“They ever teach you woodburning at school?” Ellie shakes her head, and Joel’s smile turns lopsided. “Then you’re gonna love this.”

Using the hot metal tip of the fat pencil-like tool, he meticulously traces her lettering, burning it permanently into the wood.

“Holy shit, that’s so cool!” she exclaims, getting close enough that he has to shoo her back so she doesn’t get wisps of woodsmoke right up her nose. He lets her finish the last E, warning her to go slow so the line doesn’t chatter. It’s not perfect, but she’s so excited he can’t find fault.

“Now for a little holiday decoration,” he mumbles, and with stiff joints and too-big hands he burns in a border of holly leaves and berries, even dotting the I in her name with one. 

“All finished,” he says, and before he can even blow on the final product it’s in her hands, tracing the lines and practically thrumming with excitement.

“Can I keep it?” she asks, spinning it in her palm. 

“Just until this weekend, but I can show you how to make…” His sentence trails off as she’s already heading for the door.

“Awesome, thanks Joel!” she calls over her shoulder. He chuckles to himself, ambling back to his own little project. Ellie turns in the doorway, silhouetted by the sun dipping low.

“She’ll love those too,” she says, wiggling her eyebrows and disappearing before he can retort. Sighing, he turns back to the last few pieces he needs to assemble.

He hopes she does.

Joel finishes the ornaments just in time for the tree decorating, timed perfectly with Jackson’s town square lighting. Joel saw Tommy drag the tree into your schoolhouse, conversing with you and Maria as he brushed stray needles from your front porch. The way you smiled when someone did kind things for you warmed Joel even from afar.

“Planning on helping out with the festivities tonight?” Tommy asked as the day wound down, putting boxes on the bar as Joel enjoyed a whiskey. 

“Ellie wants to go to the tree decoratin’, figured I’d make myself useful.”

Tommy’s half smile hovers in his periphery. He tries to ignore it.

“You got something to hang on that nice teacher’s tree?” Joel rolls his eyes and throws back the drink. He’s not going to sit by and tolerate romance advice from his baby brother. “C’mon, you know she’s into you, right? Looks at you like you hung the moon.” Tommy leans on the bar, turning something small between his fingers. “See you looking at her like that too. Practically Hallmark shit by now.” 

“See ya, Tommy,” Joel sighs, getting up from his chair while rolling his eyes.

“Well, at least you can bring this too,” he says, and holds out what he’s been fiddling with. 

Joel looks down, and his heart stops.

“...Where did you…”

Tommy’s face softens, placing the item between them on the bar. 

“Went home before I ended up in Jackson. Not a lot left there, but I found the Christmas box in the basement. It was one of the few things I could carry with me.” Tommy’s face fights an emotion welling up, forcing a smile even as his eyes shine. “Thought she could be part of a new tradition too.”

A small wooden ornament fashioned to look like a Christmas ball, the name “Sarah” painted in the center and surrounded by red and green patterns. She brought it home from school and it had a prominent place on their tree, even as she got older and complained about how ugly it was. 

Joel’s throat is so tight his breath whistles out, chest pounding and eyes stinging, but he picks up the ornament and cradles it in his work-worn hands. Then, a lightness eases his breathing, and a soft smile plays across his face. He clears his throat preemptively, pocketing the treasure.

“Yeah, I will. I’ll put it next to Ellie’s. Thank…thank you,” he stumbles, and the brothers share a moment of memory. 

“And you know, everyone’s gonna be out looking at the lights tonight in case you need some privacy,” Tommy suggests, breaking the tension with all the finesse of a sledgehammer. 

“Bye, Tommy,” Joel calls over his shoulder, Tommy’s chuckle ushering him out.

You must have done this many times before, because when Joel and Ellie walk into the schoolhouse it’s like something off a holiday card. The school supplies are tucked away in favor of  soft seating areas. The tree Tommy brought in is tucked in a corner, lights already wound around the thick boughs. Something apple and spiced wafts through the air, and the chatter of children and adults alike is at the comfortable level that it blankets everything in a festive glow. 

Ellie’s face is glowing too, taking in the drastic shift in decor. She hangs back a little, eyes roaming and waving to friends but shyly tucked behind Joel’s elbow. Her hand is in her pocket, and Joel would put money on her ornament being in the palm of her hand. Joel’s not much better, Sarah’s in his own and a paper packet tucked under his arm. 

Before either of them can feel too out of place, you weave through the growing crowd with a wave. 

“I’m so glad you could come!” you call out, squeezing Joel’s arm and beaming down at Ellie. She shifts on her feet, a small smile appearing at a familiar face.

“This is wild, is like the whole town here?” she asks, and you shrug with your hands on your hips. Some of your hair is out of place, and perspiration clings to your throat. Joel swallows, eyes darting away. 

“Well I did say I had a special surprise for tonight, and you inspired it!” you say, motioning to a series of little dioramas tucked into an empty bookshelf. Ellie weaves around Joel to get a closer look as you point out one of the shelves.

“You asked me about Christmas and I didn’t know what to tell you because I don’t know all that much about how it came to be, or the traditions around it. But then I realized we’re all building a new world together, and the holidays are what we bring with us.” You slide a piece of paper out and hand it to Ellie, and she reads it with a growing smile. Joel leans over to catch a glimpse at your prim handwriting.

Christmas was very traditional in my house. Santa was supposed to come by and bring us presents for being good girls and boys. We would write letters to him about things we wanted, and our parents were supposed to deliver them to him. On Christmas Eve we baked cookies and left them out for Santa because he had a lot of houses to deliver to and needed snacks. I left out carrots for the reindeer too, because they were doing all the work. And then on Christmas morning dad made pancakes and we weren’t allowed to open anything until mom was up. I believed in Santa until I was about 12, when I asked how he could get into houses without chimneys. My parents told me that Santa was an idea, not a real person, and the spirit of the season was to show people you appreciate them and give back to the community around you. I was more worried that I would get less presents if Santa wasn’t giving them to me anymore.

“I gathered up all these stories from everyone in Jackson, of all faiths and beliefs, and you can read through them and see how everyone celebrates.” You lean down now, speaking quieter. “There’s no right way, and no one person celebrates the same as everyone else. The one thing that does stay the same is that it’s a time to show love to the people around you.” 

Joel’s eyes roam the shelves, spotting a Hanukkah-themed scene and something with bright colors he doesn’t recognize. Pages of script torn from your notepad tuck behind Santa figurines and menorahs and little wooden shoes. Ellie picks up another slip of paper. 

“Wait, there are elves?”

You shrug, straightening up and catching Joel’s eye. He gives a lopsided smile as you’re pulled away by someone else entering, a twinkling light in the night surrounding Jackson. 

A time to show love to the people around you? Maybe he can finally pluck up the courage to do that.

“Okay, everyone with an ornament please come up to the tree! Not too many at one time!” you call out, and Joel’s heart jumps into his throat. He pulls the packet from under his arm, hoping that maybe a bunch of kids would rush to the front, but everyone is reluctant to be the first. You stand by the tree, a shimmer of trepidation on your face, and Joel takes the first step.

“Brought these for…for the tree,” he says, handing the rough package to her. He should have put a bow on it, but he already wrestled with the packaging too long, he didn’t think he had the nerve to make it look any more like a gift. All eyes are on you as you unfold the wrapping, eyes darting up to Joel like he’s playing a trick, but when six delicate snowflakes are revealed a murmur of chatter fills the room. Your eyebrows lift, eyes lighting up and he wishes he’d given it to you alone. He wants your appreciation and surprise and happiness all for himself, even as the whispers, “oh wows,” and “good job, Joels,” waft to his ears. 

“Joel, these are amazing,” you breathe, lifting one of the snowflakes out to dangle on your fingers. A smattering of applause he doesn’t deserve deepens his blush, but he takes the praises as graciously as possible. “I’m…thank you so much. I’m going to put them on, please everyone! Bring your ornaments up!” The snap into something much cheerier and brighter flutters Joel’s heart, catching a brief shine in your eye as you busy yourself adding his ornaments to the tree. 

Could he go to you in the hubbub of people now approaching, lay a hand on your shoulder and envelope you in his arms? The ache to do so is close to a real animal in his chest begging to be touched. Instead he hangs back as kids hang dried apples and garland, painted baubles and all varieties of crafts. Wooden birds with real plumage, tiny knitted mittens, worn pictures encased in resin. His eyes draw to Ellie, sidling up next to you to hang her name ornament. You help her pick a spot, and Joel can see how you praise the design, and add some reassuring words. Standing back from the tree Ellie leans against you, and you wrap an arm around her shoulders. 

The world slows around them, frozen in time under Joel’s watchful eye. He blinks, capturing a mental photo of this moment. He’ll look back on it often, the way Ellie both looks so much like a child but also so grown. How you give her kindness and support in as quiet of a way as she’ll accept, rewarded with her ease. And the feeling in his own chest, expanding and swelling like his heart could never fit his body again.

“Look outside!” calls one of the younger children, and the crush of people move from the tree to the windows at the front of the schoolhouse. Craning his neck, Joel catches the lights strung around town starting to click on, brilliant bubbles of amber light dissipating the darkness. A murmur kicks up, and the tree sparkles to life with colorful pops illuminating every memory adorning its branches. There’s cheering and clapping again, this time well deserved, and Ellie’s face brightens as her name sways gently with all of the others. 

“There’s more!” someone cheers, and the front door opens to guide the group out and onto the frigid streets. Ellie’s head whips around, eyes pleading, and Joel can only nod with feigned annoyance as she rushes out.

“Put on your hat…” he calls after her, but if she hears she gives no indication. In a moment the schoolhouse is empty of all but you and him. Joel glimpses more lights leading the people of Jackson through the town center, noise dulling to a comforting hum. 

You’re still in front of the tree, admiring the final product. Joel takes a deep breath and slowly approaches, standing beside you in comfortable silence. You take in a big breath of your own and blow it out, satisfaction painting your features.

“Every year it seems like it’ll never get done, and yet it always comes together,” you say, bumping shoulders with Joel. He snorts and smiles, taking in all of the chaotic beauty of the decorations.

“Meant a lot to Ellie that you did all this,” he says, tossing his head back at the written history you compiled. You cock your head at him thoughtfully. 

“It got me thinking, you know. What’s important to everyone, now that we’re here after everything?” Your eyes search the tree, Joel’s following. “For me, it was my dad. We called him Father Christmas. Loved the holidays, was excited for them every year.” Your fingers find a red plastic boot nestled in the boughs. “When we got to Jackson he was so excited to be around people again, to feel that community. He brought Christmas back for lots of people.” A watery sigh signals Joel to lean closer, fitting his arm snugly around your waist. It’s never felt more right to hold someone. “The years since he’s passed have been hard to keep this all up, but it’s also the closest I feel to him.” 

Joel reaches into his pocket, Sarah’s ornament in the palm of his hand. Ellie’s has a perfect spot next to it, and he tucks them together amongst the lights. Fresh spruce tickles his nostrils as he arranges them just so.

“My daughter,” Joel says, and it may be the first time he’s offered this part of himself up willingly. “Lost her on the day it all went to hell. She loved the holidays too, always wanted to see real snow. You know, like something out of a Norman Rockwell.” The rest of the words he wants to say stick in his throat, but it’s enough. You turn to him, sliding a hand up his arm to squeeze it gently. A knowing smile curves your lips, tempting as hot cocoa after a cold day.

“Thank you, Joel. For the ornaments, for being here. For everything.”

His body steps into yours, pulling you close. Your eyes widen briefly, then your expression becomes hopeful.

“Thought maybe I was being obvious, around all the time looking for a reason to be where you are,” Joel muses, finally bold enough to cup your cheek. Leaning into it, you fit your body into his.

“Maybe I thought it was too good to be true,” you say, a tiny brush of his thumb over your lips startling a breath out. 

“Pretty sure it’s me who’s been feelin’ that way, darlin’,” Joel teases, but the yearning in your eyes tells him he’s got to say it now. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for…so goddamn long.”

Then your hand winds into his nape, and your lips meet.

You’re as soft as he hoped, yielding to his firmer press but bold when he parts his lips and your tongue begs entrance. A choked moan dies in his throat as cinnamon and apple dances on his palate, cradling your head so he can deepen the kiss. The grip on his hair tightens, your other hand fisted in his flannel. He wraps around you, protector, devotee, your body and soul safe with him.

Your lips part regretfully, foreheads pressed together as you catch your breath. Beating him to composure, you tilt your chin to press a kiss to a spot on his jaw where his beard is a little thin.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you here for so long,” you repeat, breathy giggles rippling through you both. Joel dips in to claim your lips again, softer, slower. Your arms wind around his neck, and if he wasn’t keenly aware that at any moment someone could wander back in he would have laid you out to explore with his lips and teeth and tongue. His calmer head prevailed.

“Darlin’, I wouldn’t ask you for a single other thing, Christmas or not, if you’d say you’ll be mine,” he asks, heart on the line as he hopes you feel the magic of this moment just as much. Your eyes crinkle, fingers stroking through his hair.

“Joel Miller, nothing would make me happier,” you answer, earning another sweetly spicy kiss. When you part again, you say, “Well, except…”

Joel’s heart hammers, eyebrows knitting up in concern.

“...I could use help putting the star on my tree tonight. The one in my bedroom?” 

A mischievous smile darts onto Joel’s face, playfully squeezing your ass.

“And how tall is this tree? Should I bring my ladder?”

You tap your chin thoughtfully.

“Maybe two, three feet?”

Joel nods with understanding.

“Of course, we should take care of that immediately.”

“Immediately.”

Hand in hand, you exit the schoolhouse, leaving it unlocked in case anyone wants to come bask in the holiday cheer later in the evening. Looking down the main street, Jackson is lit like a beacon of hope. Children toss snowballs at each other while parents watch on and laugh. Ellie is talking to a girl her age, shyly extending a paper-wrapped gift. A beautiful, kind woman is holding his hand and if his back were better he’d throw her over his shoulder in his haste to get her alone. 

And in the darkest of times, when the days are short and cold and hope runs thin, there is still so much love to share.

END

A/N: the ornaments Joel makes were inspired by a gift I got a few years back. These handmade ornaments are some of my favorites every year!

[baronessvonglitter]

if love be rough with you, be rough with love | chapter 14 | "london calling"

Word count: 2,370

Summary: suspicions arise and your relationship is put to the test when a great opportunity comes your way.

WARNINGS: 18+ Only! Mature and Explicit, mentions of jealosy/suspicion, cunnilingus/anilingus, rough sex, nearly getting caught, semi-public sex, and.. actual fluff(!), no use of y/n

Author's note: this chapter seemed so much longer when I started out, but the plot is being pushed forward and I'm super excited for the next one because it's gonna be a doozy!

Series Masterlist

"I don't know how you do it, Carol," the president of the Women's Club says from across the table, sipping iced tea.

Carol shifts in her seat, scooting forward. "Do what, exactly, Vanessa?"

The casual lunch meeting has concluded with its business and the talk has now gone to catching up on gossip. "That pretty au pair of yours," Vanessa continues. "You're very confident in your husband's fidelity."

The smile remains on Carol's face as some of the other women at the table cover their chuckling with small coughs. But the light darkens in her eyes a little, her tone of voice less sweet. "She's a great help to me, and she's wonderful with the girls." She pointedly neglects to remark on the question of Dave's devotion.

"Of course!" Vanessa soothes. "I just mean that.. bringing a younger woman into your home, having her take care of the house and the children.. it's like bringing in your replacement." She looks around the table. "That's why I'm so glad I hired Helga. She's almost seventy years old, and George has never looked at her inappropriately."

Carol smiles and tries to look unbothered by her associate's remarks, but she's practiced in the art of pretense, of smiling when she feels like shit, stamping worries and fears so far down it's like she's walking on them.

But as soon as the luncheon is over she gets in her car and speeds home.

"Fuck!!"

You've long given up on this particular episode of Sex and the City, unable to concentrate while Dave's head is between your thighs as you straddle him. This was the only way he agreed to watch your favorite show with you, and now you're a trembling mess while onscreen the characters lament their dating lives.

You came home from class in a great mood, one that struck Dave as odd, and his jealousy flared up for a hot second. It's only good news, you'd promised him. But I have to tell you and Carol together.

That was when, in the middle of relaxing in front of the TV, Dave found a way for you to focus on him.

After you've finished coming the fourth time, Dave taps your thigh, his silent plea for you to get up. "What's wrong?"

"I want to see if Carrie's gonna end up with that guy," he says, positioning himself behind you, fingers fucking your sloppy cunt until the commercial break when he dives down to eat you out from behind.

"You mean.. Big?" you gasp as he pulls your head down to the sofa, keeping your ass up to him. "You know they end up getting married, right?"

"Oh?" he seems completely uninterested in anything but licking a long stripe up your crease, then teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue as his fingers work your clit, smirking as your body tenses up for coming a fifth time.

Carol races home, finding your car and Dave's parked in the driveway. All the talk from her "friends" in the society have poisoned her mind, put the darkest possible scenarios at the forefront of her brain. What was she thinking, hiring you? You make her daughters laugh, you doctor their wounds, nourish them.. and who knows what you've been doing behind her back with her husband? You two rarely look at each other, you seem to go out of your way to avoid one another.

She's not expected back for another hour, but now she has the opportunity to walk in unanticipated, a surprise, and a deep, dark part of her wants to catch you in the act, even if it's something as innocent as a touch on the arm, a shared laugh, even a hug.

She doesn't expect to walk in to find the girls home already (an early release from school), and you in the pantry while Dave helps the kids with homework.

"Carol," you greet her with a smile. "I didn't know you came back early. I was going to text you that we need more bread crumbs for the meatloaf tonight, but I'll just Instacart them."

She just nods, relief flooding her veins. What had she been thinking, that she'd walk in and find you in flagrante delicto with her husband? The kind of thing that only happens on her guilty-pleasure TV shows?

Smiling, she puts her coat and purse away, resolved never to listen to Vanessa or her idiotic opinions ever again.

"I have an announcement to make."

The Yorks look at you, curious as to what you're going to say.

Taking a deep breath, you begin. "I've been offered a scholarship to study in London for the rest of the semester. And I'm going to accept it."

The looks on their faces couldn't be more opposite. Carol looks happy.. almost relieved, and Dave looks like you've just taken his heart right out of his chest, but he quickly masks it. "London," he repeats. "Wow.."

You know he can't show too much emotion with his wife right next to him, but you do your best to allay his worries. "I know it sounds like a lot, but I've always wanted this. I've worked really hard for this opportunity."

Carol's expression is guarded, for the first time seeing you as a threat, and feeling awful that she's glad you're leaving, even if only temporarily. "Well, we're very proud of you, aren't we, David?"

You manage to look demure as you feel Dave's eyes studying you, analyzing this sudden notice of departure. It feels like you've been here forever, and only too late had he grabbed the chance to do everything he'd fantasized about doing with you. He chews his lower lip, nodding a little, averting your eyes and Carol's as well. "Yes. We're happy for you."

"I can refer another au pair. She's older, but she has plenty of experience and she's great with kids." It's hard to hide your sadness when you look at Dave. It's hard enough being away on the weekends, how are you going to handle being four thousand miles away? "I'm going to miss both of you, and the girls of course."

"We'll miss you too," Carol says, speaking for her husband, who still seems unable to put the situation into words. "You've been an important part of our family."

"When do you leave?" Dave asks abruptly.

"Three weeks from now. And I'll be back for the spring semester next year," you answer him, hoping to assuage the situation. "Unless of course you like the new au pair better," you joke.

"Nonsense." Carol's smile is tight, and there's nothing in her eyes. "We love you very much."

"Thank you both for understanding," you smile, relieved it's gone better than you expected.

As soon as you're upstairs, going back to your room, Dave is right behind you, his hand on your arm, not grabbing as he usually does; it's a soft, pleading touch. "Can I talk to you?"

"What is it?" You nervously check around to make sure Carol isn't around.

He sighs and takes your hand, pulls you into your own room and locks the door.

"I don't think we should be alone right now. Your wife--" but he cuts you off with a scorching kiss.

He pushes you onto your bed, covering your body with his. "I need you.. right now.."

Your entire body is shaking, but you nod, giving your consent. He quickly unbuttons your jeans, sliding them down, then your underwear. He smirks, seeing how sopping wet you are already, and all from a mere kiss. In a flurry he undoes his pants, slipping them down enough to free his cock and unceremoniously shove it into your warm, willing, wet cunt.

You moan his name as quietly as you can, but each time you dare to let slip a noise that's just loud enough to get you caught, he covers your mouth, either with his hand or with a kiss. In the heat of the moment you bite his lip, and he rewards you with his hand around your throat, squeezing until your walls squeeze around him, daring him to give his spend so soon.

He releases you, digging harder into you for trying to best him.

"Don't you think.. your wife will hear us?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

The glint in his eyes is pure mischief or pure evil, purely dependent upon how well you know him. "Oh yes.. she might. If she's paying attention." With that he becomes relentless, thrusting hard and deep, defying you to make a sound that Carol might hear, might investigate with an already-suspicious mindset. The mattress squeaks almost gleefully beneath you.

Your eyes widen as you hear footsteps on the stairs. "Oh god, Dave, I'm gonna come!" you whisper just as the squeaking gets faster. Under the door you can see a shadow blocking the light from the hallway. Your soul nearly leaves your body when Carol knocks. "Is everything all right in there?" she asks through the door. "I thought I heard some noises.."

You clear your throat, thankful that Dave moves slowly on top of you as he also listens.

"I'm fine," you call out, voice a little shaky. "I'm on the phone with my boyfriend.. it's kind of an intimate conversation." The disgust you feel at pretending to be having phone sex is soon alleviated by Dave's lips on your neck.

"Sorry! Just.. I'll talk to you later." Neither of you move until you hear Carol's retreating footsteps.

"Do you realize how close that was?" you swat Dave's shoulder. "You're crazy, you know that?"

"We can be a little crazy together, right?" he ignores the urgency of your words as he presses himself deeper, your legs wrapped around him.

He fucks you as if he's trying to get under your skin, inside of it, to possess a part of you and make it his completely. With each roll of his hips you swear you've never felt him deeper, more desperate. And you want more.

His hand goes to your throat again and his heart nearly melts when you tilt your head back, giving him what he wants, trusting him, even to death.

In the aftermath, his lips grazing your forehead, tasting the light sweat gathered at your temple, he's gentle, almost contrite.

"If you want me to stay, I'll stay," you tell him before you both get up to get dressed. "Nothing's more important to me than you."

"You need this for you. We'll make it work. We'll figure it out, okay?" Dave himself is surprised by the composure of his words.

"We need to start off with mimosas," you tell the waiter at the restaurant. You and Dave are huddled together in a private booth. He caresses your thigh, fingers moving up under the hem of your dress as you give your order.

"Careful with these, they can sneak up on you," you warn him as two glasses of the golden-yellow drinks arrive.

"To our first date," you raise your glass to his. "And I must say: I'm already having fun."

Dave smirks at you, eyes lighting up with zeal. "I never thought I'd be on a date with the most beautiful woman in the world." You kiss after your first sip, the tangy sweetness of the mimosas on your lips.

"How about a little appetizer before our food arrives?" he murmurs, bringing you onto his lap, facing away. Through your dress you can feel him, already hard, nearly bulging from his pants.

"Is this the surprise you promised me?" you tease him.

"Not quite.." as his hands wander up your thighs his breath hitches, his cock starts to leak when he realizes you aren't wearing panties. "You," he growls, "are the absolute, fucking best."

He kisses your neck softly as you grind down on him, leaning your head back to allow him more access. You lift up just a moment as Dave quickly, furtively, unbuckles his belt and frees himself, cock hard and weeping. You nestle down in his lap, drenched cunt swallowing him up as you both try hard not to make too much sound.

His hands smooth over your hips, holding tightly as you move, your own hands gripping the edge of the seat. You bounce on his lap, eliciting a raw fuck or god damn it from him, and when a waiter passes by you grind down on him, squeezing to tease him, looking as innocent as you can. Just a woman sitting in her man's lap. Nothing to see here.

Each fuck lately has been sweetened with the risk of getting caught, almost as if Dave wants to out the both of you. You want to think it's because he loves you so much, but you also dread that he's just giving you both the damnation you deserve.

"Come for me, sweetpea, and you'll get your surprise," he says, his hands moving under your dress to find your clit, so swollen and needy for his touch. Sometimes he likes depriving you of such a pleasure, seeing what else you can do to snatch the gratification for yourself.

You can barely stop yourself from whimpering, his thick cock wedged into your tight pussy, your inhibitions lowering after each sip of mimosa. That one perfect brush of his thumb against your pearl sends you heavenward, your legs vining around his as you milk him for everything he's got.

It's only when you're resting your head back on his shoulder that you feel something cold and heavy at your throat. Putting your hand there you realize what it is: a necklace of pearls, the pendant a large gold B with smaller pearls descending from it. It's the famous Anne Boleyn necklace you've wanted since you were little, and now it's yours, a gift from Dave.

Though it's on the tip of your tongue, he doesn't require your thanks. Just the look on your face is enough: your beautiful eyes wide, nearly brimming over with tears, your lips parted in surprise, your lovely fingers gently tracing each pearl on the pendant.

"I just thought you should go to London looking like a queen," he says softly.

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[heyidkyay]

And I'm petrified of being alone, now |

Part Eight

Matty Healy x reader

Summary: She’s just trying to get by, really. What with being a single parent to her four year old son whilst simultaneously trying to kick start a successful career as a radio presenter. She’s got everything she’s ever wanted though, friends close by, a mum who’s merely a phone call away, and of course her baby boy. What else is there to wish for? But then, it’s not long before her relatively normal life gets upended and turned on its head, and she’s suddenly forced to deal with situations she’s never even thought to imagine.

What happens when one mention of a certain controversial singer on her show sends a flood of unexpected challenges her way? 

Authors Note: Hey! Quick note, this part has a LOT going on, it jumps from pov 2 or 3 times, but there's details mentioned that will make more sense later on, I hope that leaves no one confused:) Also there are a few new characters coming in, some will stay, some won't, so keep that in mind! I was gonna end this part like halfway through and then post, but it felt a little unfinished, so here it is hope you enjoy:))) x

Warnings: A short scene revolving around body image, mentions of scars, drugs, sobriety and heavy drinking

Masterlist

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) In the area, fancy meeting up for coffee?

It had been a good few days since I had last messaged either Jamie or Matty. Though the latter hadn't seemed to have caught onto the fact that I had suddenly distanced myself. Jamie, on the other hand, had and had surprisingly given me some space with it. 

Well, up until now that was.

It was a weary sigh that escaped me when I gazed down at my phone, needless chatter of gossiping mums and squealing children having faded far into the background.

I had only just managed to drop Teddy off at nursery, dipping and diving through the crowd to deliver him right to the classroom door, and was already halfway out of the playground now. It was my first day off in weeks- like proper day off. And now, I had Jamie to deal with.

Alright, maybe that was a bit harsh, but saying that, I wasn’t so much of a twat to just ignore the first message he’d sent me in a while. Especially after I'd disregarded all of the man's previous efforts. Still I couldn't quite stop myself from huffing quietly as I shot him back a message, anxiety creeping in.

Messages now Closer to Tufnell Park than the studio at the minute

Jamie’s response came only seconds later.

Messages now Jamie O (glasses!) No worries! Meet you near The Dome?

Sidestepping a few latecomers as I exited the school gate, I chewed on my bottom lip but eventually sent a text to let Jamie know that I'd be there. I only hoped that the man didn't ask too many questions about my sudden disappearance, I wasn’t too sure I could take the heat.

Early morning rush hour was in full swing by the time I’d made my way out onto the highstreet, people bustled past me to get to work without a care, or even an apology, for anyone who got in their way, zooming on ahead like a soldier in a storm. That was one of the things that had taken me some time to get used to, in truth. How different the crowds of London were to the tiny population of my hometown.

I'd just surpassed the underground station when I caught sight of a vaguely familiar head of dishevelled hair. Jamie stood a way ahead, smiling at the passersby with his hands shoved deeply into the lining of his coat's pockets. He wore a pair of dark, fitted trousers and had a smart looking scarf thrown haphazardly over his right shoulder, something to shelter him from the exaggerated cold. 

Somehow, his face seemed to brighten upon seeing me approach.

"Glad you could make it!" He said as I approached, and he clapped my upper arm in light greeting. "Thought you would have managed to beat me here though."

I made do with a small smile, before gesturing my head over towards where a quaint cafe sat up a few doors down so that we could begin walking.

"Nah, it's pretty hectic trying to escape the crowds at this time. Did you catch the tube up here then?" I conversed and saw Jamie’s brow dip for the briefest of moments before he hastily shook his head at my question.

"Oh, no. Was just leaving a meeting up in Shoreditch, you were on my route so I thought I'd ask."

I gave a low hum, unsure, but didn't comment on it when I thanked him for holding the door open for me to pass through.

"What are you in the mood for then? It's on me."

"Ah, no it's-"

I didn't even get the chance to decline the offer before Jamie was waving me off with a charming smile and a wave of his arm. "Honestly, mate. It's fine, a cup of coffee won't have me out on my arse. So what do you want?"

Blinking with a somewhat disbelieving shake of my head, I prattled off my usual order in a low murmur and told Jamie that I'd find us a table. Just wanting to be helpful, but also to get a second to think things through.

The cafe wasn't too busy. It held the expected usuals; a handful of early-rising old timers and a couple of suits headed in late. So there were a few free tables up for grabs. I picked the one by the window.

Jamie joined me a few minutes later, wearing his usual grin as he carried over a tray of goodies. I raised an eyebrow at the mountain of sweet pastries procured but the man simply shrugged.

"Looked like you'd had a long morning, figured you to be the chocolate type." He commented as he nudged a large croissant in my direction.

Just looking at the buttery roll made my stomach grumble. Teddy and I had been in a wee bit of a rush this morning to get out of the house after my alarm had failed to wake us, so I'd skipped breakfast and picked Teds up something to eat on the way into school.

Toying with the rim of the coffee's handle, I gave Jamie an appreciative smile. “Cheers.” I breathed out and carefully pulled the plate in a little closer.

After that we both simply sipped at our warm drinks for a short while, watching as the morning commuters passed by the large window. It was a calm affair and far from as awkward as I might've expected the meeting to be. In fact, it was actually the first time Jamie and I had met up since that day at the studio, and even then we hadn't had much of an opportunity to chat. 

Still, Jamie’s company felt very similar to that of Adi's- perhaps even Finn's. It allowed me to relax a little. 

It was only after I'd broken off the end of my croissant that I spoke up.

"So, is driving across London at nine in the morning just to buy me a drink your idea of a date, or do you do this with all your mates?"

Jamie blinked at me once, twice, before his eyes widened in alarm, which caused me to, quite literally, snort into my tea.

"I'm joking! Don't fret. Just wondering why the sudden change in pace."

Jamie gifted me a sheepish grin in response and took a quick swig of his coffee before he finally replied.

"You went quiet on us." He shrugged as he picked apart a blueberry muffin, separating the berries from the soft sponge, which amused me somewhat. "Gave you a couple days to breathe, but I reckon you've had long enough. You wanna tell me what's up?"

My eyes strayed back to the window as I withheld a sigh, knowing full well that this had been coming. 

“You know how it is.” I shrugged, almost petulant, and gripped at my cup a little tighter. "Just got busy. I mean, you have to deal with Matty and the band constantly. Can’t be an easy feat."

I received a laugh in turn but my attempt at a little lighthearted humour didn't derail Jamie.

"I know we haven't known each other that long, and you really do have no reason to trust me, of all people, with your problems. But I am here if you ever need anything. Can't speak for Matty, try as I might, but I wouldn't put it past him to go completely out of his way to do whatever you asked either." He chuckled to himself then, like he knew something I didn’t. "He actually hasn't been able to stop talking about you, you know. Not since we met."

I tapped at the mug and felt my tongue prod the inside of my cheek to keep from snorting at Jamie’s words. I just shook my head.

"Doubt he's even noticed I've stopped replying." I quipped lightly, trying to shrug off the sudden emotion that admission had stirred up.

"Ah, so you have been ignoring us then."

I inhaled sharply and dropped my gaze. I couldn’t outright lie to him. 

"Yeah, sorry. Just had a lot going on, you know? This is all new for me, you and Matty, you've just. I don't even know. You just turned up out of the blue and..."

"Sort of invited ourselves into your life?" Jamie filled in with a wry smile.

"No, no! That's- that's not what I meant. Honestly. It's just strange. Different from what I expected." I attempted to backtrack, but ultimately failed.

"No, I get it." Jamie assured, but didn't push the topic any further. "You're stupid, by the way, if you think Matty hasn't noticed. In all the time I've known him, the idiot’s only ever texted me when he's needed something- but the last couple days? I don't think my phone’s stopped going off."

I shovelled another piece of the chocolatey pastry into my mouth to keep myself from replying or reading too much into that.

Jamie released a breathy chuckle and shook his head, as though he could read my reaction, my thoughts. "You've been good for him so far, Mouse. No parties. No drugs. Can't say the same thing about the drink, but he's cut a lot of it out. And I'm chalking that all up to you, ‘cause I can't think of anything else that might've changed in his life to have forced his hand like this."

His words confused me, but then he paused for a moment and purposely caught my eye. 

"Whatever's happened, don't let it keep you from opening up. Not just for his sake, but for yours too. Besides, you can never have too many friends, can you?"

I wiped at my mouth before dipping my head in quiet assent. "No. I ‘spose I can do friends."

Jamie all but beamed, looking pretty proud of himself as he reached across the table for a scone. "Now, tell me all the things that I've missed."

***

Matty practically jumped out of his seat when he heard the front door rattle shut. 

He'd been on edge since the moment he had woken up, but had decided to try for once. He made breakfast (well, rather a late lunch), tried all that meditating malarky (his therapist would be, oh so, proud), and even ended up doing a loop of the block in a desperate attempt to keep his chaotic mind at bay. But nothing. Nothing. Had been able to keep him from wearing the soles of his feet into the fucking floorboards. 

"And where’ve you been?" Matty instigated as soon as Jamie strolled into his sitting room with his usual smile, shaking off the autumn chill he’d invited in with him.

"Around." Was all the twat replied as he draped his heavy overcoat on the back of one of the upholstered armchairs. He paused to eye Matty closely. "Why, what's got your knickers in a twist?"

Matty’s scowl was infamous by this point, but Jamie was one of the fair few to have gotten used to it. A right shame, that. "Nothing! Just- I texted you, wanted an update."

Jamie quirked an amused brow his way and it took all of Matty’s nervous pent up energy not to blow up at him. He could feel his own irritation building though, it tingled in the tips of his fingers and raised goosebumps across his skin. 

"That all? You know the team won't give us an answer until they’re certain that it all won't fall through."

Matty gritted his teeth together and tugged a rough hand through his dishevelled hair. "It's bollocks! It's our fucking album, why do they get a say in what happens with it?"

Jamie sighed quietly to himself as he wandered over towards the heavyset globe sat in the far corner. Matty watched on as he slid its top off and procured a pair of tumblers, pouring two fingers of murky whiskey into each of the old fashioned glasses.

"You know why, mate." 

They'd had this conversation too many times before. And yet,

Matty clenched his jaw to keep from snapping, lashing out, but his knuckles whitened around the glass when Jamie pressed it into his palm. He almost wanted to laugh.

"Thought you wanted me off the drink?" He remarked coldly but swallowed the spirit down before Jamie could give him an actual answer, or take it away. He only wished that the alcohol burned brighter, these days it barely left a bitter tang on his tongue.

Jamie didn't touch his own as he made his way on over towards the chaise lounge, but his fingertips tapped a smooth rhythm against the crystal. The house didn’t make a sound.

Matty followed, as expected, restlessly flinging his feet up onto the centre table before his agitation once again began to overwhelm him. He huffed when he dropped them back to the floor again, the heavy vibrations grounding him somewhat as he moved to rest his elbows on the knobs of his knees.

"That newest story's doing wonders for you right now though." Jamie told him gently when Matty’s quick eyes met his gaze, his hands still toying with the full glass. "They want to rebuild your image. Figure it'll help with album presales, and they're not really all that wrong, mate. Since you've been out of um-”

“You can say it.”

Jamie rolled his eyes but barrelled on, “Since you've been out of rehab. Well, the public's been enjoying seeing this new side of you. Besides, I thought you liked whatever her name was."

With a scoff, Matty forced his gaze away. "It's complete shit and you know it. PR just wants control. For me to fall in line. And the public couldn't give a single fuck about what I do! All they live for is the gossip, the drama. And that's what I do best, no? Don't worry though, J, I'm sure I'll fuck up sooner or later."

"Don't talk like that." Jamie scolded as he pushed his tumbler onto the table and moved a little closer. He looked to be fighting an internal battle, his fingers twitching on the inseam of his leg to keep himself from reaching out to comfort.

"Oh, fucking come off it, Jamie! You know it's true." Matty spat back, the rage once again building. These past few days had had him fraying. "I bet they’re already sitting there at that table just waiting for the other shoe to drop. And I already know they’ll want to be the first in the know, when I finally do fuck up again. Spout about what a waste of space I am! How they should've sacked me off sooner. That it should've been me and not-"

"Don't."

Jamie’s voice cut through the room like a blaring siren, but Matty had never heard him speak so lowly. 

"Don't go there. He wouldn't want you thinking that way."

Matty locked his jaw and narrowed his scrutinising eyes at Jamie. "Don't act like you know what he'd want."

Jamie glanced away for the briefest of seconds and inhaled slowly before his gaze finally returned. Matty could see his own torment reflected in Jamie’s sad eyes. "It hurt me too. You know that."

Matty forced his eyes closed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Unable to deal with the many emotions that threatened to overpower him. He swiped Jamie's drink off of the table and swallowed it down in one, then swiftly stood and strode across the room to make another.

The amber liquid warmed his chest as expected and he felt the moment it hit his empty stomach. He braced himself against the globe's golden stand, leaving his hair to fall helplessly into his face. Thankfully, it shielded his glossy eyes from Jamie’s view.

It was still so hard. Most nights it was all he could ever picture-

No. Not today, he rebuked. Not now. Not again.

It was a never ending nightmare that he just couldn't seem to wake himself up from. And how he fucking wished he could wake up.

Matty went to refill the glass again but faltered. His hand stilled, midair, fingers itching to grab at the ancient old bourbon that sat only inches away, but instead he reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone.

Too many notifications cluttered the screen. But not a single one from the person he wanted to talk to most. 

In a fit of dismay, he went to throw the stupid thing at the nearest wall but a hand caught his wrist before he could do any real damage.

Matty’s eyes flickered up to meet Jamie’s- he choked.

"I just-" He tried to force out but the words felt like thick bile in his throat. His lip trembled and Jamie tugged him close. Matty wondered when he'd ever allowed the man to get so close. To breach his high walls.

"I know." Jamie hushed him, allowing a steady hand to come to rest at the back of Matty’s neck. "I know, mate."

Matty wondered if he truly did.

***

Mesmerising. 

I let the word play over and over on a loop in my head as my fingertips trailed along the jagged lines of my torso. 

Seventeen I'd been- my first time with this boy from college and he had called the scars I was forced to bare mesmerising. As if they were something special, something to be proud of. I'd frozen back then, the word had, so suddenly, hindered my entire world, but he'd gone on exploring without even noticing the way my mind had started to spiral.

The scars had always been a difficult pill to swallow. They weren't mine. I hated how others could so easily claim their own. His scars. My scars. Hers. I didn't want them. They were just there. A myriad of haunted memories to which I'd been burdened with since the age of seven.

All these years later and still I couldn't recall the smooth expanse of skin that had once been there- untarnished, unharmed.

The bronze shadows, created by the setting sun which illuminated my bedroom walls in a burning shade of amber, crawled across the floorboards beneath my feet and caressed my skin. They dipped and curved, exaggerating sharp lines and hallowing shallow slopes.

I'd only meant to have a quick shower, in and out, before Finn inevitably ended up dropping Teddy back home. But I'd left the wardrobe door wide open in my haste to leave early this morning and had yet to shut it, exposing the slim mirror attached to the inside of the wooden door. A slip up.

So now my distorted body stared back at me mercilessly and I couldn't find it in myself to tear my eyes away. The meek girl stood within its four cutting lines just wasn't me. It was simply the reflection of a sheltered kid who'd been forced to grow up far too quickly. 

Her skin, hardly what you'd pale but not far off, was flushed and pink all over from the steam of the shower. Her hair, still damp and wet, clung to the majority of her forehead and dripped water droplets down the line of her throat. Her eyes, usually a deep, warm colour, were somewhat sunken, hidden behind heavy lids and long lashes. The dark circles that sat beneath them only emphasised the muted scarlet that rimmed her waterline- a lack of sleep. 

I wet my lips. They were dry, bitten from hours of relentless anxiety, but parted enough so that my front teeth could just about be seen. Her face was lined by worry. Fine wrinkles etched themselves around the corners of her eyes and mouth, then again between her furrowed brows.

The scars, faded but somehow still raw, swept up her neck and collarbone, and jumped over her right shoulder. One crept across the cut of her jaw, whilst another sliced through the bridge of her nose to meet another, smaller scar, on her cheek. Her chest, where it had been previously impaled, was now stretched and knitted. Some lines were a few shades darker than her natural complexion, maroon, and oftentimes cardinal. Others were lighter, pale and whitened. Faded.

A gruesome gash down the centre of her abdomen led to a spattering of fine hairs that lined her navel, trailing low beneath the hem of the towel she'd wrapped around her waist earlier. Her hands were now fisted at her sides though, so much so that prominent veins danced up the insides of her forearms, skirting around the few fawn freckles that painted her skin.

Mesmerising.

The sudden blare of a mobile ringing sent a sharp chill up my spine and knocked the air back into me. Shakily I inhaled, averting my eyes from the mirrored prison, then spun round on my heel to answer the call.

There was no greeting, no small talk. It was cutthroat and to the point.

"I need a drink. You coming?"

And I had never answered a question quicker.

--

It was a hard task, squinting down at my phone in an attempt to concentrate on the text I was trying to send to Finn, but the strobe lights and throng of people around me were making the task rather fucking difficult.

To be honest though, I couldn’t actually remember the last time I'd stepped foot inside a club. Or even spent an entire evening sat in the local pub. But I’d been all but desperate, and so, in the heat of the moment, I had practically jumped at the first offer I’d been given. 

I was beginning to second guess that decision now though as I pushed my way through the rowdy crowds, the assorted smell of liquor and sweat already clinging to my clothes. I hadn't really put too much thought into those, too busy trying to escape my own head. Really, I’d just thrown on an old skirt from my uni days, a top that made my tits look great but hid the scar there, and the well-worn leather jacket Finn had gifted me at the end of my first year working on the show.

I had just sent the text off, double checking with the man himself that he was still alright to have Teddy til the following morning, when a raised voice caught my attention.

Frowning, my head snapped up but that soon faded once I caught sight of the tall ginger propped up against the bar not too far away. My lips curled up into a lopsided grin on their own command and I was quick to pocket my phone, already moving towards him.

"Mighty Mouse. You actually made it!" Ronan Kelly bellowed in that familiar Irish lilt of his, welcoming me in with a hearty squeeze to the waist as we embraced. "It's a feckin' miracle!"

I gave him an impish smile and dipped my head slightly to rub at my nose, then made the effort to catch Ronan's icy gaze. "I guess it has been a while."

"A while- Babe, I ain't seen you in months!" Ronan laughed, flashing a row of white teeth and wrinkling his bright blue eyes. I felt some of my worries ease at the sight of the man's familiar face, a warm reminder of older days. "Can't believe you actually agreed to come out with us!"

I shook my head and released an airy chuckle, "You know how it is, Ro- got Teddy to worry about now."

Ronan's face, if possible, lit up even further at the mention of the small toddler. "Ah, grand! How is the wean? At school now, right?"

It was sweet of him to ask and I smiled up at him as I went to answer, but was forced further into Ronan’s space when some prat barged past me to get to the bar. Ronan caught me by the waist with a natural ease he’d always been capable of and narrowed his eyes at the guilty party from over my shoulder. 

Not wanting things to escalate, I did my best to quickly wave it off and distract. "Teddy's good!" I heard myself tell him, voice slightly raised to be heard over the pulsing music, tiptoeing almost now in his grasp. "He's with Finn at the moment."

Ronan's gaze reluctantly trailed back to me upon hearing me speak, he reluctantly smiled and nodded but had yet to drop his hands from where they were now stationed at my hips.

"I'm sure Finn is completely lovin' that."

With a light laugh, I rolled my eyes at his sarky reply and moved to press my forearm up against the edge of the bar’s countertop. "They're a proper little duo. Finn has been a saint, what with all his help and that. Don't think I'd be standing here today without him really."

"Well, let's cheers to that then, hey?" Ronan grinned, then raised a hand to gesture over towards the barman.

Within seconds two pints were being placed on the bartop, a dizzying yellow colour filled to the brim with minuscule bubbles that had my mouth watering. It had been a long while since a fresh pint of lager had wet my lips and it helped that Ronan’s presence was a comfort.

"Sláinte!" He announced brashly, already having hoisted his glass into the air between us.

"Cheers!" I laughed, clinking our glasses together before gulping down a too large swig.

"That's what I like to see!" Ronan whooped, almost proudly. He squeezed my right hip in celebration before choosing to steer us both away from the bar and over towards a wall lined with darkened booths. "Come on, Auley and everyone's waiting over here, been excited to see ya!”

I only nodded in reply, pint close to my chest as I followed after him, bobbing between an array of patrons effortlessly now. The earlier anxiety shovelled deep, deep down.

***

Withdrawal was something Matty had never thought too much about in the years before. He'd always had everything right there, on tap. A quick hit, a line just to pick him up. It always felt so easy.

But now, without the copious amount of pills, the parties, he finally realised why the fuck people were never able to stay away for too long. Because sooner or later, they always ended up crawling back.

It wasn't so much the flu-ish like sickness that had him reeling, although he really could've done without the high-fever sweats and the full body tremors. It was more that ever encompassing sorrow. The depression that never seemed to lift- but then again, depressed wasn't even the first word he would use to describe it. It was like a thick plume of murky black that fogged every exit, far beyond the gut wrenching nausea that clawed away at his insides at all hours of the day, or the constant drilling in his head that kept him from sleep.

Being without- 

Being without was practically maddening. A spiral of hellish days with no escape, the only choice he had was to carry on or simply turn back. And he'd come too far now to run towards the latter, he’d already made that mistake. And if he had anything to thank his godforsaken mother for, it was the sheer stubbornness they both so clearly shared.

Matty couldn't complain though, he wouldn’t, as much as he wished he often could though, because he was still leaning heavily on the spirits. He knew. As well as the band and Jamie, who'd also been hellbent on 'helping'. In their own way.

Although the idiots hadn't made things much easier for him, the guys hadn't put up much of a fight against his drunk ramblings or the never ending mood swings. They just took it all in stride. Which Matty was mostly grateful for.

The alcohol though, he'd currently taken to using as a crutch. He'd drink a little more and more just to cope with the effects, the longing, to get him through to the next day. But he'd never felt too dependent on it before and didn't feel as though it was a massive problem now, he'd been drinking since before he'd worked out how to pick the lock on his dad’s old liquor cabinet. He’d keep drinking ‘til he was near the grave.

The drinking though, was just a baby habit in comparison to the drugs.

It was also how he'd managed to find himself out on a Thursday night. 

He'd actually managed to forgo Hann's mothering this time, sending his mate off home early from the studio before he'd called up an old friend. Itching for that familiarity of older times, shaking with it really, but knowing better.

"Oi, Healy- you still with us?" Crowed a loud voice in his left ear.

Matty startled at it and turned back around to find the one and only Danny Willis hanging over his shoulder, usual open-mouthed grin on full display, a drink in hand.

He blinked up at him once before Matty’s lips turned upwards into a lazy smile, he spun around on his foot to get further in his friend's face. "Thought you'd gone off with that bird?"

"Who, blondie?" Danny questioned, smirking now. "Nah, wouldn't have left you hanging all alone, mate."

Matty snorted.

"Ah, so you do care!" He drained the dregs of his bourbon then grinned at the twat, "Always wondered whether you fancied me, Danny boy! Guess this just proves it, don’t it?"

Danny wound an arm around his shoulders and leant in to press a sloppy, wet kiss to his cheek. Matty pulled away, cackling as he tried to shrug the added weight off.

"Prick." Matty scoffed lightly, stumbling as he rubbed at his face. He grunted at the small group he'd accidentally bulldozed into in his haste and they all scowled in return, but it wasn't long before Danny jumped in to rescue and steer him away.

"Come on. Let's get out of here, hey? The next bar awaits and all that." Danny proclaimed, chucking back the remnants of his own drink. Matty chuckled when the man winced and then wiped the corners of his mouth. "Reckon we might be able to find someone decent for you to take home there!"

Matty merely hummed in reply as they pushed their way through a set of double doors and out into the night, not really listening as he propped himself up against Dan's side, ignoring the whispers that tended to follow wherever he went.

"Ah, look at that, would you!" Danny's voice came again, right by his ear, as he paused on the pavement to cock his chin outwards, forcing Matty to follow his gaze. "It's a full moon!"

Matty rolled his eyes.

***

"Come on, Mouse!" Auley tried for the umpteenth time that night. His larger than life smile, I noted, had always been much gentler than that of his brother's. "You can't stay cooped up in this booth all evenin'! You need to put yourself out there, darlin’- have some fun!"

I shook my head, chuckling up at the giant of a man standing before me. "I swear I'm fine here, Aul. You go and have enough fun for the both of us."

Auley's face scrunched up in distaste as he reluctantly pushed away from the table's edge, the dim lights of the bar illuminating his hair, almost seeming to set it alight as it added a halogen glow to the already coppery red.

Ronan chose that moment to reappear, brushing past his brother to settle back into the booth next to me. He set two more drinks down on the table. "Leave the poor lass alone, won’t you, Aul! You know how she gets."

I rolled my eyes, albeit fondly, and Auley did the same as he slowly backed away, mouth quirked upwards. "Yeah, yeah. Yer like a pair of old women, you two- peas in a pod or somethin'."

"Ah, shove off!" Ronan laughed, a deep rumbling sound that shook his whole body. "Think I can hear the dance floor callin' your name, mate."

"Too right." Auley quipped, flashing another bright grin at his brother before he turned back to face me. "Know that this isn't over just yet. You might've won this battle but you ain't won the war, darlin’. I'll soon get that dance."

I snorted, but was unable to help my grin. "One day, babe."

Auley winked at me and I watched on as he melted into the mob of people before us, leaving Ronan and I alone.

I observed the crowd for a long moment, taking note of all their dizzying smiles. For a Thursday night, the bar was oddly rampacked, but I couldn't find it in myself to complain too much, not when everyone seemed to be having a great time. 

There was a large group of us out tonight. Alongside asking me to join, Ronan and Auley had brought along the entirety of their flat as well as a few others, some from uni, others from work, I reckoned. They'd all split up within the first half hour though, but they kept drifting back and forth, I could easily spot Penn and his brightly coloured shirt over by the snooker table in the very far corner, and most of the girls had crowded together out on the dance floor. 

"Havin' a good night then?"

I repositioned myself upon hearing Ronan's question, he was closer now in an attempt to be heard over the music, and I sipped at the foamy top of my pint before answering. "Yeah, I am. It's, well it's been a while since I last did anything like this." I chuckled, eyes roaming the room again. 

Ronan shifted closer once more, the booth’s leather seat squeaking quietly under his weight as the song on the overhead speakers faded into the next.

"I'm glad. We haven't seen you proper since yer last year at uni."

It was true but that wasn't just down to me, I felt the need to say. But instead gave him a small smile as I just shrugged, thumbing the edge of the table, "Life gets busy with a baby. Plus, it's not as though any of you lot had time to just drop by and see me, with all your classes and what not."

Ronan’s lips pursed at my words and a quiet stretched between us. I watched on as he fiddled with the bottom of his pint glass, before finally he replied. "Could've made time. Finn did. Cassie, too. Just- it felt strange, going back after that summer and you not bein' there."

To be honest, I didn't really know what to say to that. 

As much as I had loved my time at university, I hadn't really had much space for it in my life after Teddy had come along. And although I’d never regretted my decision to leave, not after everything I'd gone through to get to where I am today. Because my God, had that been hard. I did sometimes miss the memories I’d made there, the people I’d met and, surprisingly, the workload too. It made me question whether I could have had it all, a degree and a baby. Although, I somehow doubted that that was what Ronan was grasping at here.

But it wouldn’t do well to continue to dwell on the past. I'd already spent a large portion of my life doing exactly that, and I’d known in the long run that I would have to have let go of some things in order to provide a better life for Teddy, better than the one that I’d had. I wanted my son to have every possible opportunity, every choice, in order to better himself. I wanted him to be a kid for as long as life would let him.

And as much as I really did love spending time with Ronan and the old gang, I also knew that come tomorrow morning I had actual commitments and responsibilities to attend to. I didn't have the opportunity anymore to skive and bunk off of lectures so that I could deal with a nasty hangover and sleep in. Teddy was always relying on me to come through. And come through I would. Every time.

But right now! I just needed to let my hair down. Enjoy an evening away, and maybe (hopefully) get rid of some of that tension that had been piling up over the previous weeks.

Thankfully though, I was saved from answering when a flushed Alice came hurrying over, clinking her cocktail on the table so hard it's fruity contents spilled out across the wooden surface. The overexcited girl, who was practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, didn't pay much mind to the mess as she threw herself into our booth and peered over her shoulder to search for something or other. 

I shot Ronan a bewildered look, but the ginger merely widened his eyes at me as if to say that he had no clue what was going on either. 

"Er, you alright, Al?"

Alice's head snapped back so fast that I honestly fretted a little over the whiplash she must've felt.

"No?! Do I look alright?" Alice stressed, digging her perfectly painted nails into the red cushion that lined the booth's back. "You'll never believe who Penn and I just saw walk in!"

I only hid a smile to myself whilst Ronan decided to humour Alice. "Who d’ya see, Ali-cat?"

Alice's face was nothing like I had ever seen before, her usual pretty smile had been traded in for a kilowatt grin, bunching her rosy cheeks and narrowing her soft brown eyes.

"That singer! You know- the one with the hair and the face! Ah, what's his name? From that band!"

"Matty!" Answered Indra- seemingly a friend of a friend of a friend- who had bounded up to our table in the time Alice had been freaking out, practically hyperventilating. "The. Matty Healy!"

"That's who!" Alice exclaimed and was nodding away excitedly now, whilst I simply sat frozen, drink halfway to my lips.

"Didn't you interview him?" Indra queried suddenly, her eyes as wide as saucers whilst her gaze flitted back and forth between me and the bar at an impossible pace.

Shakily, I set my glass down.

"You did?" Ronan piped up beside me. I swallowed thickly before turning my head towards him, then back towards the two girls, who were anxiously waiting on my reply.

"Uh, yeah." It felt as though I’d forced the words out of my mouth. A ball of cotton having replaced my tongue.

"Oh, Mouse! Introduce us, would you? Please!" Alice all but squealed imploringly.

My alarmed eyes flickered back to Ronan again, then Indra, and then Alice.

My mouth had never felt so dry as I tried my best to ground myself, to get over the sudden, unexpected headfuck that had sent my mind reeling.

"Ah, I don't know, Al. It's, well. I-" I really did struggle to find the right words that could possibly get me out of this entire situation, but before I even knew what was happening, Indra was already reaching for me and pulling me up out of the booth. 

Alice jumped up to join her and patted my sleeve eagerly before proceeding to try and drag me away. Ronan, thank the stars, reached out to stop them just in time, tugging on the hem of my jacket and shooting the two girls a sharp look.

"Oi, you two. Behave, will yer? You didn't even give her the chance to answer."

Alice looked up and flashed me a sheepish grin, "Sorry, hun."

Feeling sheepish and rather relieved, really, to be freed from all the clawing hands, I waved her apology off, knowing Ali was only just drunk and excited. "It's fine, just- I think I'm better off heading home now in truth. You know, I've got Teddy to think about."

Both of the girls' disappointment was overwhelmingly obvious, but they didn't push it any further, simply nodded and tried to smile as best as they could.

"No worries, Mouse. You get on home, babe. Sorry again."

"Wait, you're not actually leaving, are you?" Ronan questioned suddenly, causing me to cast a glance over at him. He was frowning now, that much was obvious from the deep set line rapidly forming between his bushy brows. "It's not 'cause of that tosser, is it?"

Immediately, I felt myself shake my head, already knowing that the lie would taste bitter in my mouth.

"Ah, come off it! Stay for another round at least." Ronan goaded me, moving to stand with the girls, his hand still on my elbow though.

"Nah, I'd best head home, Ro. I don't want to be dealing with a hangover as well as a screaming toddler tomorrow morning." I insisted with a lighthearted chuckle, I gifted him an apologetic smile whilst fishing out my phone to call a cab.

It wasn't even late yet, just gone eleven, and there was an unread text from Finn demanding that I have some fun. I gave a heavy sigh.

"Don't be like that, babe. Come on, one more drink and I'll even walk you home." Ronan raised a brow just as he jutted out his jaw and smiled.

It was tempting but...

I laughed lightly and shook my head. "Honestly, Ro-"

But the man wouldn't hear it. "Come on, ladies. Help me out here!" He implored to both of the girls standing either side of him now, the way he towered them was almost funny.

Indra giggled just as Ronan wrapped his strong arms around her and Alice, shaking them a little. Alice simply rolled her eyes at him in amusement, but pulled away slightly to squeeze my hand.

"It's up to you, M. You know we love seeing you, but I can call you a cab if you really want to head off now."

I could only smile at her and silently questioned why we didn't spend more time together outside of the group. I could easily recall Finn saying something or other about a pottery class the two of them had attended the previous weekend and wondered if that would be something I might enjoy.

"I'll be fine, babe. Thank you, though." I told her kindly, before turning to face Ronan. "You enjoy the rest of your night, alright? I'll text you when I've made it back."

"Mouse..." Ronan groaned unhappily, "Just one more drink. For me?"

I shook my head and tugged my jacket further around my body as I stepped away from the trio, patting down my pockets to make sure that I did have everything I needed. 

"I'll come out again, soon." I promised them, but tried to aim my words at the frowning redhead as I continued to back away. "You can hold me to it."

Ronan worked his jaw before he nodded curtly, and I sighed to myself before spinning on my heel to hastily make my exit. 

Only, it didn't quite happen like that of course, because, of all the people, in all the world, I just had to bump right into none other than Matty.

[diyakkul]

✩°｡⋆THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU HEADCANONS⸜🎥✮

bc I'm bored and I miss them ♡ (diyakkul on AO3) warning for spoilers ahead??

First thing first: Neteyam and Lo'ak are half latinos!! And they perfectly speak Spanish (Lo'ak has a bit of an accent and Neytiri blames Jake's horrible/broken Spanish he had to learn to speak with Mo'at);

Neytiri never wanted Neteyam and Lo'ak to become actors because she didn't want the media to target them as 'nepo babies' due to her past fame;

Neytiri's choice to stop her actress career was solely hers after marrying Jake— he wanted her to continue;

Neteyam's first acting role was playing a tree in an elementary school musical recital;

Lo'ak was the first one to sign himself as an extra to start his acting career and dragged Neteyam with him;

Jake and Neytiri found out their sons were acting as extras while watching a movie on Netflix:

"Hey, doesn't that guy look like Neteyam?" Asked Jake as they were cuddling on the couch. "That guy is Neteyam!" Neytiri shouted after pausing the movie and studying the guy up close.

Their theatre club teacher was the first person they called when James Cameron sent them the script for Pandora;

Neteyam and Lo'ak bought their 'villa' together;

For Lo'ak was love at first sight when he saw Tsireya sitting in the script reading room;

Tsireya used to be a child model and did a few commercials when she was younger;

Tsireya and Ao'nung grew up together since Tonowari and Ronal are best friends;

Rotxo was already their friend since they attended the same high school for 'rich kids';

Ao'nung is the nepo kid par excellence, his first acting role was in one of Tonowari's movies as his own son, and doesn't care about being called a nepo baby;

Tonowari = Dwayne Johnson/The Rock btw;

Ao'nung *stared* at Neteyam throughout the first reading meeting but was so shy and overawed by his beauty that he forgot to say 'hi' back (the rest is history);

Neteyam was glad he had to switch roles with Lo'ak until he realized his character (Rai'uk) had too many scenes with Ao'nung's (Sahné);

After the switch roles news, Tsireya had to listen to Ao'nung's two-hour-long cheer in their usual nightly FaceTime call (Rotxo pretended to be sleeping);

Lo'ak and Spider used to challenge themselves in 'illegal golf cart racing' between a studio and another until James Cameron caught them;

Rotxo and Kiri had their very first kiss in his dressing room in the middle of the first season recording and had been dating ever since secretly;

Rotxo and Kiri used to share secret notes between one take and another;

Neteyam has never accepted roles in musical movies because he thinks he isn't good enough but he occasionally shares song covers on Instagram;

Among the cast, Tsireya is the one who shares the most moments/photo dumps;

Ao'nung had a secret account just to follow Neteyam before opening his own Instagram account;

Neteyam and Rotxo always read fans' tweets together;

Spider's podcast had to be a joke but too many people started following him, so he went with it;

Kiri will more likely end her acting career after the last season of Pandora because she wants to travel the world and do environmental volunteering work with Grace;

Neteyam sometimes thinks about accepting modeling offers;

Ao'nung's Instagram explore page: South Pacific landscapes, RPG games, Neteyam, surfing stuff;

Ao'nung's house is so big that Neteyam didn't meet his boyfriend's parents until two months after they went back together (Tonowari once opened the door for him and Neteyam couldn't stop praising him for his movies, Ao'nung had to drag him away + he met Ao'nung's mother in the middle of the night while he and Ao'nung were making a late night snack in the kitchen);

Neteyam and Ao'nung's housekeeper are partners in crime;

Neteyam and Ao'nung moved close to Lo'ak and Neteyam's old villa since Tsireya moved in with Lo'ak to be neighborhoods;

Ao'nung felt so betrayed by Rotxo after learning he had actually been dating Kiri for all those years he didn't speak to him for two weeks straight (Neteyam had to intervene);

Neteyam and Ao'nung sometimes like to share cute videos about their daily life or do Instagram lives together;

TMI (+18): Rai'uk and Sahné were switch;

Every time rumors about Lo'ak and Tsireya breaking up spread around the internet, they post a story thumbing their noses;

ENDING HEADCANONS! ♡⋆｡˚

Neteyam will become a director;

Ao'nung will join the cast of a highly successful action movie after a long hiatus after Pandora's fourth season: it will become a franchise, and Ao'nung'll live off that success.

Lo'ak will still do back-and-forth between horror and action movies;

Tsireya will slowly retire from Hollywood's spotlight after founding a cosmetic and haircare brand that will be a worldwide success (girl boss, she actually will make more money than Lo'ak);

Rotxo will eventually join Kiri in her environmental volunteering work around the world, and they will found two sea animal rescue centers: the first in Awa'atlu and the second in California;

Lo'ak and Tsireya are going to have two twins: Raul, a boy, and Lani, a girl;

Neteyam and Ao'nung will be more than happy to just be the funny gay uncles and will adopt two dogs, a French bulldog named Rainé (after Rai'uk and Sahné's ship name, Ao'nung's choice) and a beagle named Coco (Neteyam wanted to call him Cacao but 'caca' is still the only thing Ao'nung knows in Spanish and laughed too much);

Kiri and Rotxo were fine being the rich uncle&aunt couple until Kiri found out she was pregnant in one of their trips to Awa'atlu, they'll end up having a girl named Raina.

[whohasfourthumbsand]

So. "Big man", is it now?

[Kennedi leans against your doorpost with an uncharacteristically coy smirk on her face, imposing in stature yet wholly friendly in posture, prosthetic arm glinting proudly in the light. (Though - you don't recall hearing her knock, much less the door opening...)]

I apologize for the unexpected visit; it's been a long time coming, but my squadron has been rather busy over the last month. I caught Commander Gatsby on my way in; they've given me permission to say hello, so long as I don't disrupt your "medical leave". As they tell it, you've been working yourself half to death - and I must agree with them when they say a break would do you some good.

...jokes aside, it really is good to see you again, Gray. I apologize for not coming to visit you sooner.

I have heard much of your accomplishments and triumphs since your joining MSMC-148, many of them directly from your squadmates. It seems they've grown rather fond of you - as has your commander, given they willingly modified their old jumpsuit specifically to suit your prosthesis. I'm glad that you and GRAE have found a home for yourselves here, as well as a group of friends to call your own.

This being said - hm. How to broach the subject...

I saw your latest journal entry. The one about your brother - also named Kennedy, if Slipshod's translation of the encryption was correct - and a copy of an NHP named HOWL, previously his co-pilot, which you have now gained possession of.

I know nothing of your brother, other than what you yourself have disclosed in your writings of him. Who he was in life, how he cared for you, the lessons you learned from him - such questions are not my business to pry into. I also know nothing of HOWL - not its personality, not how it interacted with your brother, not how it interacted with you (if at all).

What I do know is this: were Kennedy still alive today, I am certain he would be overwhelmingly proud of the pilot you've become.

Just as my squadmates are.

Just as I am.

Gray - Arthur - I have watched you grow from an anxious fledgling mechanic sheltered under IPS-N custody into a talented, insightful, and exceptionally kind pilot. I have thoroughly enjoyed hearing about every step of your journey, be it from my (exceptionally nosy) squadmates or yours. Commander Gatsby has nothing but praise to share on your account, and even the ways in which your co-pilot GRAE speaks of you indicate nothing but deep-rooted love and respect for the person you've become.

I was an only child at birth, and to my knowledge, I remain so. Allow me to say that - had your brother Kennedy not beaten me to such honors first - I consider you a younger sibling. My younger sibling.

Whether I am a suitable role model for such a bright young person as you remains to be seen - my squadmates are keen to assure me that I have done an excellent job thus far, but I retain my doubts. We have spoken prior about the darkness in my past - I know not what Kennedy experienced prior to his passing, but if I am anything like he was, I can only hope that these doubts are proven wrong, and that I prove to be a positive influence in your life, just as he was.

All this to say... I am exceptionally proud of you, Arthur. It is an honor to wear your prosthetics, and I look forward to serving alongside you (and your squadron) for many years to come.

-- Lockbr-

(No. That won't do.)

-- Kennedi

+ Sorry, Captain says I can't have guests right n-- KENNEDI!?

I don't-- holy shit- I didn't- woahh you aresotallinreallife- I don't know what to say- I didn't expect to meet you face-to-face for a long time, and- the arm fits perfectly, that's, that's nice to see! Sorry, pardon, sorry- I'm running on so little sleep and- and this is a lot-

Okay, okay, I'm- I'm okay. I'm really happy you got to meet my detachment, and that you've spoken to my squad- I wasn't sure if they would like me to begin with, honestly, but so many of them are- well, they're like me. I'm not the only bioaugmented person, though I am still the youngest; I'm not the only prosthetist, I'm not even the only engineer from Carina! It felt like I fit in instantly- like I started talking, and people were actually listening, like they really really cared about what I had to say, my ideas, what I could teach them. The only person who gave me any flack was the Commander, Gatsby, but I think that's just- their job. They like me, like you said. A lot. It's just taking me some time to get used to that.

GRAE's in the hangar, by the way; Slotted his casket back into the VLAD so he could get up and stretch, and it seems like lately he's taken a fondness to watching over the primary workshop. You should stop by and see him before you leave- He has something for Slipshod, I think.

As for.. for the..- larger topic- You would've really liked my brother, Kennedi. I mean, really, you two were- are- so alike, in a lot of painfully meaningful ways. Beyond just the name. When you were talking about who you are- what you've done, how you view yourself because of it, how you've been living in the wake of who you were- it just reminded me of those times he'd come home, bruised up, covered in bandages, muttering to me about how I shouldn't look up to him. How nobody should. Yet, you both kept moving, kept going, growing- I like to think that, if he was- was still with us- he'd have turned out a lot like you.

That's part of why you being so proud of me has meant so much, I guess. You feel like him, but you're also- you- and there's nothing I wanted more than for you to like me. I'm really, really happy to have an older sister like you, Kennedi, if that's- really how you see me.

It's an honor to know you, and to serve alongside Heaven's Fury, and to be a part of this squadron, here and now. I wrote to you a long time ago, when I was first debating leaving Carina, that I wanted to become someone that I could be proud of. That I wasn't who I wanted to be, not yet. I don't think I am now, not entirely, but I do know- without a shadow of a doubt- that I am on the right path.

I have you, Kennedy, Heaven's Fury, CORSAIR, and so many of the amazing people on the Omninet to thank for that.

Thank you. + "Gray"

[caffeinatedattorney]

Final thoughts! I'm going to talk about the aspects of the game bc I'm not thinking abt this anymore in a few days and I might as well since it's fresh in my mind. Also I didn't play it, I watched someone play it so I won't speak abt gameplay at all.

Harvey and Bruce are very much not okay. This batman is so angry and he's so desperate to save people. He's caught up in vengeance (defending Leslie and harvey) but clearly isn't sure what his modus operandi is just yet. That and he isn't seasoned so ppls deaths affect him and make him blame himself and hesitate. (when the inmate in black gate is pronounced dead.)

I was not expecting it to go hard on the trauma and abuse and how children act after said trauma, much less show it which was surprising! It is triggering but, depending how much you can handle, that makes it all the more engaging and heartbreaking.

I find it interesting how Bruce is the one prone to violence. He hits Harvey after Harvey says something from their fav show that triggers Bruce. I doubt ppl ever write Bruce being autistic but both Bruce and harvey come off to me as on the spectrum. With their fixation on justice, the fact they seem to be old enough to stop playing pretend but still do (though that could be just arrested development from trauma) and it seems to be their happy place as harvey is his loudest around Bruce and in the, what is it, rehabilitation center? Also they don't seem to have (m)any friends.

I remember this plot point from my own worst enemy and I like how it works here. I'm glad Leslie has a big role and connects everything together. (her telling Bruce off for making voices at her LMAO)

Harvey is more affected than Bruce is bc his trauma continues well into adulthood. He never left his fathers house, never stood up to him. I don't need him to articulate why but it feels so real and fitting and sad and I love it? It makes me feel things that he had a support system with Bruce and Leslie even if it seemingly wasn't enough.

I have a theory that the Rat King moniker is Harvey's self loathing coming to life and becoming his bigger-than-life mask. Bruce has the bat and harvey the rat. One soars through the skies and intimidates, the other burrows underground for safety and cohabitates to survive (and forms a cult)

Harvey's dissociation and the DID name drop ough. ("am I psychotic?!" ) I just felt bad. Dudes mental barriers are so high up he loses track of time (and probably feels like he's getting sucked underground). It hits hard that Bruce is one of the things that ground him despite the fear and disorientation. Wish we had seen Gilda tho. Unless they're meant to be separated?

And fuck, Harvey's voice. He's so meek and unsure the whole game. His little jokes ("this one was right outside my office. *pause* I'm fine by the way" ) . He gains strength when angry and when full of disdain (talking to matches) which is to be expected but goddamn that performance killed me. Leslie has to remind him to calm down ("be good" "be good" he repeats in an almost childish voice ) Too real. too good. He thinks of himself as weak until he's backed agaisnt the corner (when he was about to get shot he screams "Do it you coward!" )

Edit: I have this Hc of harvey putting a big front the way Bruce juggles batman and Bruce Wayne and the fact it's been validated makes me wanna go harder on it and harvey being autistic and the pressures and stress he must face. End edit.

Also interesting how they have Bruce and harvey call each other brother. Didn't want for it to come out too gay? I will say, it feels forced but I haven't sene anyone else mentioned bc its that inconsequential I guess.

I loved babs trying to help Bruce despite his attempts to push her away. ("I'm taking this crowbar" and he actually says "don't care!" ) also apparently when she leaves she turns a few times fuming and you can see it in detective mode lmao

Overall, better than I expected? I wasn't expecting harvey to be important at all. Hate the bait and switch and the fact it's a vr game bc I'll never get to try this lol. I'm glad they could expand on why Harvey and Bruce are how they are in the arkham universe.

[emma23]

Algorithme of the heart:

————————————————————————

Nathan Bateman had always been a figure of fascination and frustration in your life. As old friends from college, you had bonded over late-night debates about AI and consciousness. However, after Nathan founded Blue Book and retreated into his reclusive lifestyle, your communication had dwindled to occasional messages and rare phone calls.

One day, out of the blue, Nathan invited you to his secluded estate, promising an intriguing new project he wanted to share. Your curiosity piqued, you accepted, eager to rekindle the intellectual spark that had always marked your friendship.

Upon arrival, you were greeted by Nathan's familiar grin, though his eyes held a weariness you hadn't seen before. "It's been too long," he said, pulling you into a quick, warm embrace.

"Definitely," you replied, taking in the high-tech surroundings. "So, what's this secret project you couldn't tell me about over the phone?"

Nathan's smile widened. "Let's just say it's something that could change everything."

Nathan led you to his private lab, where he unveiled Ava, a humanoid AI with remarkable realism and advanced capabilities. You were stunned by the sophistication of her design and the complexity of her programming.

"This is beyond impressive, Nathan," you said, unable to tear your eyes away from Ava. "She's... extraordinary."

Nathan watched you closely, a hint of pride in his expression. "Thanks. I've been working on her for years. I want you to help me refine her, particularly her emotional responses."

As you delved into the project, your days were filled with technical discussions and debates, much like the old times. The comfortable rhythm of working together brought back memories and rekindled the deep intellectual connection you shared.

One evening, after a particularly intense session, you both collapsed on the couch in Nathan's living room, exhausted yet exhilarated.

"It's like old times," Nathan remarked, handing you a drink. "Remember those all-nighters in the dorm, arguing about the future of AI?"

You laughed, taking a sip. "How could I forget? You always had the craziest ideas."

Nathan's gaze softened. "And you always challenged me. I missed that."

As weeks passed, you found yourself growing closer to Nathan in ways you hadn't anticipated. The long hours and shared meals led to deeper, more personal conversations. Nathan revealed the pressures of his isolated life, his fears about the ethical implications of his work, and his lingering doubts about the path he had chosen.

"You know," Nathan said one night, staring into his glass, "sometimes I wonder if I've gone too far with this."

You looked at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his voice. "Why do you say that?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Creating something like Ava... it's a huge responsibility. There's a fine line between playing God and pushing the boundaries of science."

You reached out, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "Nathan, you've always been a pioneer. It's natural to question the ethics of what you're doing, but you've also shown a deep respect for the implications. That's why I'm here—to help you see all sides."

He met your gaze, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and something else you couldn't quite decipher. "I'm glad you're here. I don't think I could do this without you."

The more time you spent together, the more you became aware of the subtle shift in your feelings for Nathan. The intellectual admiration and deep friendship had always been there, but now there was a growing undercurrent of attraction that you couldn't ignore.

You often caught Nathan watching you with a contemplative expression, his eyes lingering on you longer than necessary. The air between you crackled with unspoken tension, a mix of curiosity and desire.

One night, after a particularly intense discussion about Ava's programming, you found yourselves alone in the lab. The room was dimly lit, and the quiet hum of the equipment created an intimate atmosphere.

Nathan leaned against a table, his eyes fixed on you. "You know, working with you again has reminded me how much I missed this... missed you."

Your heart raced, the implications of his words hanging in the air. "I missed you too, Nathan. More than I realized."

He took a step closer, his voice soft. "There's something I've been wanting to tell you, but I wasn't sure how."

You swallowed hard, your own feelings bubbling to the surface. "What is it?"

Nathan hesitated, then took your hand in his, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. "I think I've been in love with you for a long time, but I was too focused on my work to see it."

Your breath caught, the confession catching you off guard yet feeling strangely right. "Nathan, I..."

Before you could finish, Nathan leaned in, his lips capturing yours in a tentative, yet passionate kiss. It was as if the dam had broken, all the unspoken emotions flooding out at once.

You kissed him back, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you, finally acknowledging the depth of your feelings.

The transition from friends to lovers brought a new layer of intimacy to your relationship. The shared work and long hours in the lab became intertwined with stolen glances, tender touches, and moments of passion that left you both breathless.

One night, after a particularly grueling day, you and Nathan retreated to his quarters. The tension had been building all day, and as soon as the door closed behind you, Nathan pulled you into his arms, his lips capturing yours in a searing kiss.

The kiss deepened, hands exploring, bodies pressing closer. Nathan's touch was both urgent and gentle, as if savoring each moment. You responded with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. The room felt charged, the air thick with unspoken desire.

Nathan broke the kiss briefly, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot and heavy. "I've wanted this for so long," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "But I didn't know how to tell you."

You cupped his face, your eyes meeting his, seeing the vulnerability and longing there. "Me too, Nathan. I've wanted you."

That admission seemed to be the final barrier. Nathan's hands moved to your waist, lifting you effortlessly and carrying you to the bed. As he laid you down, his eyes never left yours, filled with a mix of adoration and hunger.

Slowly, he undressed you, each piece of clothing falling away with deliberate care. His lips followed the path of his hands, kissing every inch of exposed skin, leaving you trembling with anticipation. When you were finally bare before him, he paused, his gaze sweeping over you with a reverence that made your heart ache.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "So beautiful."

You reached for him, pulling him down to meet your lips again. The kiss was softer this time, but no less passionate. Nathan's hands roamed your body, exploring every curve, every contour, committing you to memory. Your own hands were just as eager, tracing the muscles of his back, feeling the strength and warmth of his body.

When he finally entered you, it was slow, almost reverent. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and deep connection. Nathan's movements were controlled, each thrust measured, as if savoring the moment. Your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, each touch, each kiss deepening the bond between you.

The world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you, lost in each other. As you reached the peak of pleasure, Nathan whispered your name, his voice breaking with emotion. The sound of it, the intimacy of the moment, sent you over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your climax.

Nathan followed soon after, his grip on you tightening as he buried his face in your neck, his breath hot against your skin. The two of you lay there, intertwined, the world slowly coming back into focus. But even as reality returned, the connection between you remained, stronger than ever.

The morning after, you and Nathan lay intertwined, the weight of the new reality settling in. While the passion and connection were undeniable, there were still challenges to face, both personally and professionally.

Nathan was the brilliant yet enigmatic CEO of Blue Book, while you were an AI researcher with your own aspirations. The project with Ava had been a catalyst for your relationship, but it also posed ethical dilemmas and public scrutiny.

As you lay in bed, Nathan turned to you, his expression serious. "We need to talk about what this means for us... for the project."

You nodded, knowing this conversation was inevitable. "I agree. We have to be careful about how we proceed, both for our relationship and for Ava."

Nathan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I don't want to lose what we have, but I also don't want to jeopardize the work we've done."

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. "We'll figure it out together. We always do."

[rentenesen]

Woven - Chapter 1

Gale x Astarion BG3 fanfiction

This is one my first times dabbling in fanfiction and my first time posting anything like this. Was inspired by the Profession Dekarios comics posted by @ssalballoon

Summary: Set in alternate universe, modern day, exploring a world where fae exist (non-dnd). Gale, once a very special child with the ability to see fae, is now a regular almost middle aged man, working as a professor. Bored by his life and unable to let go of the life he once had, Gale struggles with the guilt of how he got here. That is until a strange, pale man appears at his doorstep and Gale is once again pulled back into the world of magick, unaware of what dangers lay ahead.

Word Count: 1.7k This chapter is mostly just set up! Astarion does not appear but is mentioned briefly. I welcome any tips on posting/corrections for how I'm formatting things. Hope you enjoy! ______________________________________________________________

Many children dream of being something greater than they are. How could they not, growing up getting lost in movies and books of fantastical worlds; little boys and girls setting off on journeys through otherworldly realms, adventuring towards their calling, towards their destiny, the chosen ones. Gale Dekarios was that child.

Before he even knew what was happening or how to vocalize it Gale knew that magick was real and alive; even in the city where nature was sometimes rare. He remembered being maybe four years old walking down the street holding hands with his mother, the trees bending in their little cages along the sidewalk, facing forming and melting into the bark, whispers layered in the noise and bustle of the afternoon. Looking back he could see how someone not accustomed to such oddities might see it as twisted and nightmarish but children have no context for the world. To Gale this has always been the way of things. The faces in the trees were like little friends popping out to greet him. The people he would see on the street, impossibly tall, green skin, long fingers, eyes alight they were simply, strangers, out and about, going through their own mundane lives.

Sometimes he would point out these strange happenings to his mother with a giggle or or a question, asking her why that man had spikes down his back or laughing at the silly blue hair floating around the woman on the train, like a jelly fish. His mother would smile down at him, eyebrow raised, and tell him what a creative little boy he was; seldom answering his questions. Sometimes though she would and she would huddle close to him and they would talk about all the wonderful things Gale had seen that day. He now knows she was just playing along, encouraging his "stories" blind to the world around them that was so open and inviting to him.

He remembered his father was a bit less indulgent when Gale would speak of such things. Often eyeing him with a soft stoic look and letting out a little sigh in response. Gale wondered if his father thought of his child as simply being a little "out there" for his own tastes or if he was genuinely concerned. Had his parents ever talked about taking Gale to a doctor? Maybe they should have, but he's glad they never followed through if they did. Gale was not sure how we would have navigated trying to prove he wasn't loosing his mind, especially being the only one who could see what he could.. perhaps they would have convinced him it was all in his mind. How different his life might have turned out then. Either way, he quickly caught on as he got older and started going to school that something about him, about the way he saw the world, was not "normal" and he wised up and stopped talking about it.

He would still write about it though, late at night, exploring his theories, pouring over books in the school libraries feverishly, anything he could get his hands on to learn more about this strange world he seemed to be a part of in some way. He soon learned that the creatures he saw were called fae and he fell deeper and deeper into the study of them. And not just that. There was a time where he had been accepted by them. There was a time when he would dance in the middle of the forrest at night, lavish parties, tender friends, secrets of magick revealed, and even gifted. Gale Dekarius was once a very special boy who lived an impossibly exciting and charmed life. And now he stood in front of his bathroom cabinet mirror, groggy with bags accentuating his eyes, even through he had been dead asleep for the past nine hours. He was pushing forty, his messy beard and unkempt hair making him look even older. He was washed up, he was exhausted.

Regardless, he still had responsibilities so Gale splashed some water on his face and got to trimming his facial hair. His life was not horrible by any means. Gale was a home owner, a rarity more and more these days, of a charming two-story house, with a little back garden and a gate that lead out to a walking trail. and he had a very secure job, an esteemed one even. The title of professor did come with some respect and gave him plenty of time to indulge in how own studies. His parent lived close by and he could often stop in for an afternoon lunch or have them over, not that they stayed too long these days. His father's health had been getting worse and it was a bit more comfortable for them in their own home. Still, his mother would try to come visit regularly, even if it was only her, making occasional use of his spare room, which had become a guest room since his roommate had moved out. Gale wondered when she would be back, his best friend, his confidant, she had left almost a year ago now. He had seen her occasionally since then when she popped back into town, but missed her presence and company around the house. It felt a little too quiet these days, and nights he stayed up reading in the library a little too lonely, without her chastising him for not being in bed or forgetting to eat again. Now he had to keep his life together on his own and felt like he was failing miserably. ___

After fixing up his face Gale threw on a button up from his clean laundry pile, noticed it was a little too wrinkled to look professional, and swapped it for a turtle neck. He'd have to throw it back in the dryer for a bit before wearing it. Maybe he'd actually hang it up in time too, instead of leaving it for days to get wrinkled again. He really should invest in more of those wrinkle-proof shirts, he thought, throwing a blazer on over his sweater.

He stumbled downstairs, his briefcase where he had left it the night before, sitting in on the bench of his dining nook. He popped a piece of bread in the toaster, flicked on the kettle and checked the clock. On time, he sighed in relief, looks like today will go smoothly, he thought.

His phone rang, startling him a little bit and he looked at the caller id. His mother, they talked often but it was unusual for her to call him this early on a school day.

"Hey, Mom" he said, only having to fake his cheery demeanour a little. "How are you this morning?"

"Oh, I'm just wonderful, dear, did you sleep alright" Gale held his tongue, he had always been a night owl and even as an adult it seemed he would never live it down.

"Yes, I did, I slept a lot actually, must of needed it. To what do I own the pleasure of your call mom, is everything okay with dad?"

"Ah yes, it is, didn't mean to concern you, we're both just fine, I'm actually calling because I just wanted to let you know, I've been watching the news this morning and it seems there's something going on in your neighbourhood."

"Oh?" Gale replied, only half listening as he tucked his phone against his shoulder so he could get good grip to butter his toast "What's this?"

"Well your neighbour, Mrs. Wilson, mentioned last time I was over, that something had been rummaging around in her yard" His mother, while a lovely woman, could be quiet the talker, just like Gale himself. He moved on to preparing his tea in a to-go cup, eyeing the clock, hoping she would reach the point soon.

"I see"

"Well and now, I'm seeing on the news more people are noticing it seems like an animal has been prowling around. I just thought I should warn you. Have you seen anything like that?"

Gale thought about it for a moment, but he knew he was not always the most perceptive about those things, "I don't think I have Mom, but I will keep an eye out."

"I trust you will, I just worry about you, you know, want to make sure you're keeping safe"

Gale smiled, softly a little sadly "I am Mom, I love you. Wish we could talk longer but I have to get to school"

"Okay, love you too sweetheart, give me a call back this week"

"I will"

Gale grabbed a paper towel to put his toast on, scooped up his tea and his briefcase, then headed out the door to his car. Before he got in, fumbling with his keys he took a quick look around his street. Had he seen anything? Was there anything amiss? He couldn't tell. He had left the garbage bins out too long, he would have to bring them in tonight but they were upright, undisturbed by prying paws. He shrugged and got into his car, heading off for work.

Curious he turned on the radio, seeing if his local channel had anything to say. It took a few minutes but sure enough, they mentioned it. An animal, they presumed, had wandered into town from the woods. They said residents in the area should be alert and keep all pets indoors. Gale wasn't too worried. He was sure he had seen a lot worse in his lifetime after all, and he knew all he had to do to scare away a lost little creature was to make himself look big and shout loudly. They're more scared of you than you are of them, he thought; he wondered what kind of beast they had strolling the streets, looking for a snack.

No one had caught a good sight of it so far, just the messes it had left behind. The only mention someone made of actually seeing something was in the bushes of their back yard. They had heard a noise, noticed a rustling when they went to investigate and quickly, shown a light on it they had seen a quick flash of red, animal eyes staring back at them; most likely a trick of the light. The thing darted off before the neighbour could get better look at it.

Chucking to himself about how worked up everyone was getting about the situation, Gale hoped at least this might be something interesting. Maybe if he was lucky he himself could see the little fox, or whatever it was, running through his own back yard.

[carbo-ships]

Christmas

AO3 posting: [link] words: 1,976

Christmas fell on a Monday that year, which meant preparations for the day prevented Ardis from spending the weekend with Aether and the ghouls as she typically would have. It was, of course, one of the biggest days of the year at her monastery, and nothing more than an average weekday at the satanic ministry.

She was, however, permitted to visit them after the evening service on Christmas day. Ardis transported to the outer wall as soon as she could, eager to see her friends. The heavy gate swung open almost immediately after she rang the bell, revealing Aether. He must have been waiting there for her. Before she could even greet him, he pulled her into a tight hug. "I missed you so much," he murmured into her hair, placing a gentle kiss there.

She smiled as she hugged him back. "I missed you, too." When they finally pulled away, he shut the gate behind them and took her hand in his. Aether led her through the gardens toward the residential building, residual frost crunching under their boots. It was a cold evening, but Ardis's hand felt warm in his. They quickly stepped inside and closed the door to keep the heat in.

"Did you have a nice Christmas?" Aether asked her as they walked through the stone halls. It was warm indoors, which Aether still wasn't fully used to. When he first arrived, the ministry was working on a much smaller budget. Running the heating was a luxury. However, thanks to the success that came with Papa Emeritus IV's rise to power, those days were over. The ticket and merchandise sales kept the residential building cozy throughout the winter.

"It was certainly busy, but everything came together nicely. The services were lovely. You'd have liked them," she said with a smile. "We got to break out the good candles, and the fancy vestments... It was exhausting, but worth the effort.

Aether grinned. "I'm glad to hear it. And now, it's time to relax. You have been working too hard." They soon reached the ghouls' den, and Aether opened the door.

When Ardis stepped through the doorway, she gasped. In the corner of the room sat a Christmas tree, carefully decorated in string lights, red ornaments, and golden tinsel. A long garland was draped across the mantle over the lit fireplace. Eleven stockings were densely crammed together so they would all fit. Scattered around the room were all of the ghouls, dressed in festive sweaters of varying quality. Papa stood in the middle of the crowd, cozy in his red velveteen tracksuit with a Santa hat atop his head. They all greeted her with warm smiles. "What... What's..." Ardis stuttered, her eyes darting around the room in surprise and amazement.

"We, um..." Aether started awkwardly. "We wanted you to feel at home." He squeezed her hand. "Did we do alright?"

"Oh, Aether," she squeaked, throwing her arms around him and burying her face in his shoulder. He hugged her back tightly. "Is all this really just for me?"

"Of course it is," he cooed, kissing her temple as the others smiled at them. When she pulled away, he caressed her cheek lovingly. "It's important to you, so it's important to us."

Aether finally released her to let her say hello to the rest of her friends. Swiss scooped her into his arms, making her laugh, then handed her to Sodo. The stoic ghoul caught her awkwardly then carefully reacquainted her feet with the floor before accepting her affection with an ingenuine eye-roll that very poorly hid just how fond he was of her. After she greeted the other ghouls, Papa plopped down on the loveseat and patted his knee. "Come along, cara ," he called to her, "tell Santa what you want for Christmas!"

Ardis giggled with delight and skipped over to him, settling into his lap. He pecked her cheek and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, Papa, you look adorable!" she fawned.

"What can this old man do for his little angel, eh? You've been a very good girl this year," Papa teased, giving her a little squeeze.

Her wings fluttered as she let out a childlike laugh, overcome with glee. "I don't need a single thing. You've already done so much for me. And I can't thank you enough for all of this," she said, gesturing to the festive room.

"Oh, don't thank me," he said dismissively. "It was Aether's idea. All I did was put on a funny hat and help him herd the others."

She gazed at Aether adoringly. His back was turned as he shed his jacket and pulled on a Christmas sweater. The collar got stuck on one of his horns for a moment, and Swiss had to come assist him.

"But really, Ardis," Papa said, drawing her out of her trance, "is there anything I can do to make this day any better for you? Just say the word, cara . Your wish is my command."

She thought for a moment. What did she want? Was there anything Papa could provide that was missing? An idea struck her. She leaned close to whisper in his ear, too embarrassed to make her request out loud. "Can the three of us cuddle again sometime? Like we did on the tour bus?"

A smile stretched across his lips. "As long as Aether agrees to it, I'm more than willing," he whispered back before kissing her cheek. "Not tonight, though. I believe your ghoul has something planned for you."

"H-He does?" she asked, her cheeks warming.

Papa put his finger to his lips playfully. "I've said too much. All in due time, my pet. But yes, I'd be more than happy to cuddle tomorrow evening. You can even spend the night again, if you'd like."

She practically beamed at him. "Oh, yes please!"

He gave her another little squeeze before she climbed off of his lap to return to Aether's side. The ghouls all eventually settled into the various couches to watch a movie. While Papa voted for Die Hard , insisting that it was technically a "Christmas movie", the group ultimately decided on The Nightmare Before Christmas . Ardis was tucked blissfully into Aether's side as they watched. He had his arm around her, periodically pulling her closer. It was so nice to have a moment to relax like this. She giggled when Swiss and the ghoulettes sang along to the songs. Papa took it upon himself to do his best impression of Oogie Boogie.

It was late when the movie finished, and Papa was clearly getting sleepy. “Aether, go on and give Ardis her present before I doze off,” he said with a yawn.

Ardis looked up at Aether in surprise. “You got me something?”

“Of course,” Aether chuckled. “Sodo, dig it out of her stocking for me, will you?”

Sodo nodded, standing from his seat with a grunt. He approached the mantle and his hand dove into one of the stockings to retrieve a small wrapped box.

Aether accepted it as he thanked him before handing it to Ardis. It was only about the size of the palm of his hand. “Just a little something.”

Ardis carefully tore off the paper and removed the lid. Inside was a necklace with a silver pendant in the shape of the quintessence symbol. Her cheeks flushed. That was Aether’s symbol. “Oh, Aether…”

“I hope that isn't too tacky,” Aether chuckled. “Swiss insisted it was a good idea. I wanted you to have something to remind you of me when you're away.”

Swiss laughed. “I was thinking of it more like a dog tag.”

“Shut up, Swiss,” Aether barked back. “It’s, well… Perhaps. I’m proud that you're mine. I want people to know that you’re mine. But mostly the first thing.”

She smiled at him bashfully. “Could you put it on for me?”

He grinned back at her. “Of course.” She swept her long braids over one shoulder as he took the necklace out of the box. Unclasping the dainty chain, he looped it around her neck and fastened it behind her.

She let her fingers gently touch the shiny pendant just below her collarbone and smiled to herself. She was his. “I love it, Aether. Thank you.”

“You're very welcome.” He kissed her forehead lovingly.

Papa stood from his seat and followed suit, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. “It’s time for this old man to go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow morning at breakfast, okay?”

Ardis nodded. “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, cara .” With that, he exited the ghouls’ den.

“I imagine you're probably getting tired as well, aren't you?” Aether asked her. “You’ve had quite a long day.”

As if on cue, she yawned. “I suppose so,” she giggled.

“Let’s get some sleep, then,” he said, standing up and offering her his hand. “Good night, everyone.”

They all said farewell, and Ardis and Aether walked hand in hand to his bedroom. When he opened the door, Ardis spotted what Papa had been alluding to earlier that evening.

Tied to the center of his headboard was a sprig of mistletoe.

Ardis gasped. "Oh!" While not practiced in her homeland, she was well aware of the tradition. She knew what mistletoe meant.

Aether cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly a bit self-conscious. Perhaps he'd overdone it. "I, er, hope that isn't too forward of me."

"N-No! I just, um... wasn't expecting that." They'd spent countless nights kissing in his bed, but it was always something that just happened . Not something he ever explicitly requested. He'd never gone, Good evening, Ardis, shall we make out tonight?

"It's, well..." he mumbled sheepishly. "This is what I'd like for Christmas. I trust this presents itself as a request rather than a demand, yes?" he clarified quickly.

"Yes, of course," she assured him. "I... I'd love to," she admitted bashfully, her wings fluttering a bit.

Relief flooded Aether's system and a broad smile appeared on his lips. "Well, in that case, let's get ready for bed." He let go of her hand so they could both change into their sleeping clothes. Ardis moved to the drawer that Aether had cleaned out for her and pulled out a comfy pair of sweatpants and one of Aether's old t-shirts. She was comfortable changing in the same room as him now, with the understanding that he would have his back turned and wouldn't stare. He was always on his best behavior in those vulnerable moments, of course, even when it went against his ghoulish instincts. He'd worked hard to earn her trust and intended to keep it.

When they'd both changed, they made their way to the communal bathroom to brush their teeth. As they stood together at the sink, Aether's gaze drifted to the reflection of the shower stalls behind them. He'd often imagined asking her to shower with him. She'd say no. He knew that. But still... Maybe someday, he told himself. The thought of helping her wash her small back almost made his tail wag.

They returned to his room when they were done and said their prayers at the foot of his bed before he turned to her with a grin. "Shall we?"

Ardis gave a little nod, returning his smile. She lied on her back on the center of the bed and Aether carefully crawled over her. She couldn't help but giggle. Being so close to him like this made her a bit giddy.

He laughed as well, gently rubbing his nose against hers. "You're so cute, you know that?" He took her new necklace off for her and set it on the nightstand where it would be safe. They gazed at each other lovingly for a moment before he leaned close again, his eyes closing and his breath fanning over her lips. “Merry Christmas…”

[madd-nix]

Reuniting, Better Late Than Never

Chapter 1

What if Legends Arceus didn't take place as far back as we thought? What if a few of the younger characters are still alive? This is just me wanting Dawn and Ingo to get the chance to reunite with a few of their friends once they've come back to present day.

(Chapter 2 can be found here, and there's a link to the Ao3 page for it in one of my reblogs in the tags.)

Words: 1,644

Rating: PG (ask to tag)

Rei stood in the kitchen of his small home, preparing some tea for himself. The small Purugly that he now had as a pet purred as she rubbed her head against his leg.

He chuckled and scratched behind her ears, then made his way back to the living room with his teacup. His old partner Pikachu - eventually Raichu once he evolved - had passed on many years ago. He has since retired from battling, so this Purugly was simply here to keep him company.

Together, he and Purugly sat down on his couch and turned on the TV, although it was more to provide background noise, since he didn't really feel like watching anything in particular. The news was on and he just barely paid enough attention to hear as the anchorman went on again about how the champion of Sinnoh had finally returned just a few days ago. He couldn't help but smile a little to himself at that.

Some time passed, and he was just about to doze on the couch after having finished his tea. Purugly was purring contently on his lap, and as long as he wasn't expecting a call from his granddaughter, this was the perfect time for a nap. However, life had other plans for him apparently. There was a loud, anxious knock on the door. Rei groaned and his Purugly let out a low, annoyed meow.

"It's unlocked! Come on in!" he called.

The door opened and his great-granddaughter came storming in, followed by her mother, his granddaughter.

"Dawn, I'm so glad to see you're back home and safe! Your mother called me in tears just the other day saying you finally came home, and I was wondering when you'd come visit your old great-grandpa," Rei said cheerfully.

Dawn stared at him with a look Rei had never seen on her face before. It was a mix of recognition, relief, and some other emotion he couldn't quite read, and her eyes were wet with unshed tears. She wasn't looking at him as her great-grandpa. She was seeing him as someone else.

"Rei..... you're alive!" Dawn cried out.

She then ran forward and launched herself at him. Purugly luckily moved just in time so she wouldn't get squished as Rei caught Dawn in his arms. She hugged him tightly as she buried her face on his shoulder. He smiled as he gently rubbed her back.

"So, you finally realized who I am. It's good to see you again, Dawn."

It was certainly strange. He had watched this girl grow up since the time she was born. He had watched her toddle around as an infant, play in his yard as a child, go to school, and go on her pokemon journey once she had finally come of age. This was his great-granddaughter after all. But this was also his best friend. The girl he could remember following the professor into the village for the first time after having fallen from the sky. He had taught her how to catch pokemon and craft pokeballs, and she taught him how to bond more with his partner Pikachu. They worked together to create the region's first PokeDex. And he could still remember the day she left with that Pearl Clan warden.

"Rei?" Rei looked up at the sound of his name. The voice was so familiar despite not having heard it for decades. Standing in the doorway just behind Johanna, was Ingo.

"Warden Ingo, it's been a while," Rei said.

Ingo made his way into the house, probably taking in his appearance. To be fair, to Dawn and Ingo, he had still been just a teenager the last they had seen him. And now here he was as an old man. The change must be a bit jarring.

Ingo awkwardly sat down on the couch beside Rei, while Dawn still held on to him tightly. Rei couldn't help but chuckle a little at how the former warden hadn't changed a bit since he last saw him.

"I can't believe you're still alive," Ingo muttered, uncharacteristically quiet.

"Ha! You're telling me," Rei laughed. "I'm 105 years old and I'm still somehow kicking."

"105 years old?" Ingo's eyes widened. "So it's been..."

"90 years, yeah," Rei finished for him. "It's been quite a while since I last saw you. So, why are you still here in Sinnoh? Or do you live here too?"

"I still don't remember where I live," Ingo explained. "I'm still working on getting my memories back. Until then, Johanna has been kind enough to let me stay with her and Dawn."

"It's the least I could do for you after you helped bring Dawn back," Johanna said as she took a seat on the couch beside Ingo. "And Grandpa, you really were right. Dawn found a way home just like you said."

"Well, I told you I remembered her leaving to return home. I've just been waiting to see when Dawn would realize who I was after she got back."

At this, Dawn looked up at Rei. Her face was covered in tears and her shoulders still shook with repressed sobs.

"I-I can't believe you're m-my great-grandpa!" she cried. "My great-grandpa is my best friend!"

"And my great-granddaughter is my best friend and the hero of Hisui," Rei chuckled. "I've been waiting for the day that I'd get to see you again like this."

Dawn wiped at her face with her sleeve, then moved so she could sit beside him and not on his lap. He still kept an arm around her though.

"S-so... you knew I would get sent to Hisui?" Dawn asked.

"Yes, I did," Rei admitted with a sigh. "And I'm sorry I didn't warn you or prepare you more for it. I didn't want to risk altering the timeline, if that was even possible. As I watched you get older and you grew closer and closer to the young girl I befriended in Hisui, I knew that you were the Dawn I knew back then. Especially after you showed you had the strength to take down Team Galactic and beat Champion Cynthia, I knew where you would be heading eventually. Then your mother called me in a panic some months ago, crying about how you had disappeared. I called her over and explained what was going on. And Johanna, sweetheart, I'm sorry I couldn't have warned you better either."

His granddaughter had been so mad at the time for him keeping Dawn's disappearance a secret. She had yelled at him about how he could've at least said something about it, even just to warn them so they could be prepared for it. But he had been too scared to change the course of history to risk saying anything.

"It's okay, you've already apologized," Johanna said. "I know you didn't want to change things. I'm just glad you filled me in once it happened."

Rei nodded to her, then turned back to Dawn.

"When I heard from your mother that you were back, I told her not to say anything about me. Not until you asked or brought up my name," he explained. "I'm glad it didn't take you too long. I was starting to get impatient after waiting for nine decades." He chuckled, which got a small smile out of Dawn.

"I'm so glad you're still alive," she said. "When I knew that I'd be going back to my time, I thought for sure that... that..."

"That everyone we knew would be long gone," Ingo finished for her. "It really is nice to see that at least one familiar face is still here."

"While most everyone we knew then has passed on, I'm not the only one still alive," Rei said. This got both Dawn and Ingo to sit up a little straighter.

"Who? Who else is alive?" Dawn asked quickly.

"I haven't spoken or written to them in a while, but Lian is still around in Oreburgh City, and Sabi lives up in Snowpoint City. I could give them a call or you could go see them yourselves."

"Lian is still alive?" Ingo asked. His eyes were wide with hope, eager to see the last other living member of his clan.

"He is. Oreburgh isn't too far from here. I'm sure he'd love to see you again."

"And you said Sabi is up in Snowpoint? We could easily fly up there!" Dawn said eagerly. "We have to go see them both and let them know we made it back home!"

"Heh, always on the move, aren't you?" Rei chuckled as he ruffled Dawn's hair. She puffed out her cheeks in annoyance and quickly fixed her hair and adjusted her bandana.

"We can go out to Oreburgh tomorrow, how about that?" Johanna suggested. "Then we can go to Snowpoint a day or two after that."

"Okay!" Dawn nodded determinedly. "But for now, you have to tell me what all we missed in the last 90 years. Did Professor Laventon do more work other than the PokeDex? Did Kamado really disband the Galaxy Team before Cyrus took over?"

"And how was Zisu? She was always such a great sparring partner. Did she continue to work with up and coming trainers?" Ingo added. "And do you know about anyone from the Pearl and Diamond clans?"

"Heh, one question at a time," Rei laughed. "Hold on, I think you both might want to see some of what I've got too."

With a slight grunt and the assistance of his cane, Rei stood up from the couch and walked over to his bookshelf. He looked around for only a moment before his eyes landed on a thick photo album. He grabbed it, then returned to his spot on the couch between Dawn and Ingo.

"I have some photos of everyone over the years. Thought you might like to see them."