#or like they will ask me to bring them my home grown eggs and then act like it's a burden to take them

[arahir]

.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Duck on a String III

Jessie Fleming x Child!Reader

Summary: The team meet your duck

Mama lets you bring your red wagon to training today because you don't want Sir Quackers to be alone at home.

He's got a big cage to keep him safe with lots of blankets and water and food for him and you get to pull him along in your wagon.

You knighted him last night while you and Mama were playing kings and queens so now he's Sir Quackers instead of just Quackers and you love him very much.

Jessie doesn't want your duck being left alone in the house either. He's proven to be a bit of a menace by himself if the chewed-up boxes of cereal are anything to go by.

No.

He's much safer in his cage while he's still too small for the harness and leash Jessie's ordered for when he's older.

"Mama," You say," Will the others like Sir Quackers?"

You seem completely enamoured with him and, despite the fact that the duck seems to think he rules the house, Jessie loves him too.

"They'll love him," She assures you, fondly pushing your hair out of your face as you both approach the doors," Make sure you tell Magda just how thankful you are about her getting Quackers for you."

"Sir Quackers, Mama," You remind her," We knighted him."

"Oh, you're right. Sir Quackers. Sorry, duckie."

"That's okay! He's still getting used to his name too!"

Your proud entrance gets a bit hampered by the fact that your wagon gets caught at a strange angle so Jessie has to help you get it through the doorway.

By that point, the whole room has fallen silent and Magda has grown incredibly pale as you approach her.

"Thank you for my duck, Uncle Magda!"

Pernille scoffs next to her, muttering sarcastically," A dead egg, huh, Magda?"

"Er...You're the welcome," Magda manages to get out after a long bout of silence.

"His name is Sir Quackers!" You tell her, grabbing her by the hand and dragging her through the small crowd that has surrounded your wagon," Because ducks say quack and Mama and me knighted him. So he's Sir Quackers and not just Quackers."

"A duck, huh?" Erin snickers and Jessie buries her face in her hands, Niamh rubbing her shoulders.

"She was very excited."

"Do you know how to take care of the duck?"

"The vet sent us home with an information pack. Duckie's insiting we read it as her bedtime story every night."

"That's sweet," Niamh offers up," It shows she's taking this seriously."

"She keeps trying to sneak out of bed to play with him. I've had to move the duck into my room to make sure I catch her."

Erin can't stop snickering and soon Sam and Guro are laughing too.

"Is it that bad?" Niamh asks and Jessie has to begrudgingly shake her head.

She watches as you hold Magda hostage by your side, very excitedly waffling on about how cool Sir Quackers is and how he's your bestest friend in the world.

Magda looks unbelievably nervous, eyes wide as Pernille stares daggers at her. She ducks her head down to focus on you again, hoping that by showing interest, she can avoid whatever lecture Pernille's already planning in her head.

"Do you want to hold him?" You ask and Magda freeze, throat suddenly going dry.

"W-What?"

"Do you want to hold Sir Quackers?"

"Erm..."

"Are you scared, uncle Magda? That's okay! I'll hold him and you can stroke him!"

You show no fear as you pick Sir Quackers up and offer him to Magda to pet.

"I'm sorry about her," Pernille says, watching from a distance as she slides next to Jessie," She assured me it was dead."

"It's fine," Jessie assures her," I think it's nice Duckie has a friend now."

"Magda will willingly babysit them both."

"I can't ask that."

"You don't need to ask," Pernille says," It's what's going to happen. Magda can supervise duck play."

They both turn in sync to see Magda really awkwardly stroking Sir Quackers as he tries to eat her finger.

"Mama!" You say, looking at Jessie proudly," He is giving uncle Magda kisses!"

[steddieas-shegoes]

cw: discussion of past parental death due to overdose, mention of drug use

Steve stumbled upon the article when he was helping Robin collect articles for a project for her Industry Studies course.

He didn’t think much of reading about another small time musician getting caught up with the wrong crowd, and overdosing or getting in a drunk driving accident. It seemed like a pretty common theme. It was terrible, sad, horrible, but he’d seen about 30 stories like that in the last two days and he was kind of getting numb to it all.

Until he saw the name Munson.

Until a picture of a woman with long, curly hair and Eddie’s smile stared back at him next to a headline that read: “Kentucky Country Queen Dead at 27.”

He read the article with tears in his eyes.

Elizabeth “El” Munson, a hopeful country singer and guitarist, was found dead in her home by her six year old son, Edward. The boy reportedly tried calling his father at work with no luck before finally calling his uncle, Wayne Munson.

Toxicology reports show that she overdosed on multiple illegal substances. At this time, it is believed to have been accidental and no foul play is suspected.

It has now been made clear that Elizabeth was seeking a divorce from her husband, Al Munson, but had not been successful as lawyers were unable to locate him until her funeral. Their son has been put in the care of Wayne until further notice.

Robin found him 20 minutes later, staring at the page with swollen, red eyes. She took the paper, read the article, and put it back in the files wordlessly.

“I don’t think he wants us to know,” she finally said.

She was probably right.

But Steve had grown pretty close to Eddie over the last six months, had opened up to him about his parents, his fake friends, his concussions and nightmares. Eddie had started opening up to him, too.

He thought he had, anyway.

He told him about how his mom died when he was young and his dad was awful so he moved in with Wayne. He told him about how his dad appeared every couple years looking for money or a place to stay and Wayne always turned him away.

But he never really talked about his mom, always said he barely remembered her.

Did he know what happened?

——

Steve asked Wayne the next morning.

He’d come by to pick Eddie up for a day with the kids, but Eddie hadn’t set his alarm and was still asleep.

Perfect opportunity to find out more.

“So. Eddie’s mom.”

Wayne tensed over his plate of toast and scrambled eggs. He didn’t look up, just took another bite of food.

“Does he know how she died?”

“Do you?”

“Newspaper said overdose,” Steve tapped his fingers nervously against his thigh. “Says Eddie found her.”

“Trauma messes with your memory.”

It was final, a statement that left Steve with more questions, but a certainty that he’d get no answers.

“Yeah.” He gulped. “I’ve heard.”

——

Steve doesn’t bring it up to Eddie for a while.

He figured Wayne’s reaction said a lot about what Eddie knew or would be willing to share.

But they were a little high and alone and Eddie’s hand was warm in his and his filter was broken.

“I’m sorry you had to be the one to find your mom.”

The air around them was thick. The silence was deafening.

“Me too.”

Eddie’s voice was quiet, nothing like his usual playful tone.

Steve immediately wanted to put this conversation in reverse, pretend his curiosity didn’t matter.

“I’m sorry.”

Eddie moved closer to Steve, his arm a constant pressure against Steve’s. His head leaned against Steve’s shoulder.

“Wayne doesn’t know I know how she died. He doesn’t know I know my dad gave her bad drugs, convinced her all the up and coming musicians were doing a new strain of heroin. She’d kicked him out of the house,” Eddie’s breath caught. “She shouldn’t have let him come back that day. I heard them arguing before I left for school. She told him she was finding a manager and recording an album and that she was divorcing him. I didn’t know what that meant, but I knew it was bad.”

“Eds, you don’t have to tell me.”

“I know, Stevie. But you know everything else.” Eddie’s face turned until his nose and mouth were pressed against Steve’s arm. “I went to school. Didn’t think about it. Figured my dad would be gone when I got home and might come back in a few days once they cooled off. But when I got home, he was gone and my mom’s bedroom door was closed. And I opened it and there she was.”

Steve turned so he was face to face with Eddie, cupping his jaw and rubbing his thumb along his cheek in encouragement.

“I don’t even know why I tried calling the store first. I didn’t even know if he still worked there. But then I called Wayne and it’s like he just knew.” Eddie’s eyes closed for a moment. “Don’t think he’d ever gotten to our house so quick.”

“Did he know all this?”

“He knew enough. I stayed with him and then my dad gave up his rights. Lied to the counselor about what I knew so Wayne wouldn’t freak. Kept it up for a while,” Eddie let out a small exhale that slightly resembled a laugh. “I read the article about eight years ago. A kid in my class made a joke about me being an orphan because of the drug problem in America as if he even knew what that meant and I decided to see what the newspaper reported.”

“Do you play because of her?” Steve asked.

Eddie blinked back at him.

“I play for a lot of reasons. But I started because of her, yeah,” he whispers. “You’re the first person to ask me that instead of give me that look of pity.”

“I’m sad about how it happened, but giving you pity doesn’t change it. I’d rather hear how it changed you,” Steve whispered back.

They were close, legs intertwined, hands touching bare skin under shirts and on faces and necks.

“It changed everything for me. Wayne packed us up and moved us here as soon as he legally could. Probably for the best. Well,” Eddie gave a small smile. “Definitely for the best. Wouldn’t be here with you if he hadn’t.”

“Do you ever go back?” Steve did his best to ignore the fluttering in his stomach.

“Her birthday every year. She’s got a nice spot near her mom.” Eddie bit his lip. “It’s actually coming up in a couple weeks. Maybe you could come with me?”

“Me? Are you sure?”

Eddie nodded. “If it doesn’t weird you out that I talk to her. I like to give her updates on my life, Wayne’s life, music. Think she’d find it quite funny that I bring the guy I’ve had a crush on for two years.”

It takes a minute for the words to sink in.

“Two years?” Steve’s lips curled up into a smile. “I hope I live up to expectations.”

“I think she’d like you. She’d definitely make fun of me for having a boyfriend who wears polos though.”

“Is that how you’d introduce me?”

“If you’re okay with it.” Eddie leaned his forehead against Steve’s. “I know we haven’t talked about what we-“

Steve pressed his lips to Eddie’s, nearly knocking their noses together painfully in the process.

After the initial shock, they both relaxed into the kiss.

“I’d love to go. As your boyfriend,” Steve said after pulling away for air. “What was her favorite flower?”

“Gardenias. Always wore perfume that smelled like it. Why?”

“Because I have to impress her, right?”

“You realize she’s not gonna actually see or hear you? She’s definitely dead.”

Steve snorted. “I know. But she can still have nice things. Maybe us bringing her nice things in death is a way to apologize for the not nice things she had in life.”

“You’re a pretty incredible boyfriend, sweetheart.” Eddie kissed the tip of his nose. “And you now know more than Wayne, so it’s time for a pinky promise.”

Steve giggled before holding up his pinky. “I swear I won’t tell Wayne anything.”

“And you’ll kiss me whenever I want…”

“That’s a guarantee.”

“And you’ll let me win at Go Fish…”

“Not a chance, Eds.”

Eddie laughed. “Worth a try.”

Steve curled his pinky against Eddie’s. “So do you think she’d like me?”

“Oh. Oh god. She’d love you. You’re exactly who she’d want for me,” Eddie rolled his eyes when Steve flipped his hair back confidently. “And she’d braid your hair every night while you gossiped and sipped tea.”

“And what would you do?”

“Probably just soak it in. Appreciate having her and you around. You’ll just have to gossip with Wayne.”

“Wayne doesn’t strike me as-“

“Oh, he’s got you fooled! He’s a worse gossip than the ladies at the hair salon. Just ask him about the mailbox at the end of the road sometime. Make sure you’ve got an hour to spare.”

“Really?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “Is he home now?”

Eddie pulled Steve forward until he was flush against his front. “No and I have much better plans than gossiping with my uncle.”

“Oh?” Steve’s brow raised.

“It involves my bed and handcuffs. You in?”

“Hopefully you’re in.”

“God, you’re ridiculous. C’mon, now I’m even harder from your stupid flirting,” Eddie sat up and tugged until Steve followed. “Can’t believe this is how my night’s going.”

“Believe it, baby.”

[hawkinshorror94]

Headcannons for a Tav who exhausted after a day of staying home with the kids

(If you guys like these I'd like to make a second one with Wyll, Karlach, Zevlor, and Rolan.)

AN- Happy Birthday to me! I am highly intoxicated while posting this so sorry if it sucks ASS.

Minthara

-”My dear, why are our children making so much noise? I cannot hear myself think.”

-Finds you in absolute shambles over two unruly toddlers, one is crying because you gave her what he asked for and the other is practically hanging from the curtains.

-”In Menzoberranzan, a mother kills children who are bad, but I have grown quite fond of them and would hate for our children to meet an untimely demise at the end of a silver sword.” 

-Though you want to chide Minthara for threatening to kill the kids as a punishment it works, but you’ll definitely have to talk about it with her later

Gale

-“Why are you crying, are you alright, is she alright?” *Gale panic*

-Finds you in bed crying because of some awful postpartum.

-”My mother has been wanting to see her, I’ll bring her over there for a bit. You rest, you bathe, I’ll bring home food. I’ve got her. I’ve got you.”

-Gale bundles her up and makes sure you have everything that you need before he goes. When he comes back, he brings too many gifts from his mother and food for you. And of course, your favorite sweet treat.

Astarion

-“Are there gremishkas loose in our home?”

-Astarion wakes from trance around sundown to find you crying over a fussy teething dhampir and an equally whiny toddler who didn’t have a nap. 

-”Do you think we should go to the night market, little one? And I think your baby brother would also appreciate the night air as well” *Astarion with a baby bundled to his chest (with a sling) so he can always have a free hand in my guilty pleasure*

-When he comes back with both kids settled, he puts you to bed to rub your feet and tell you how much he appreciates you creating two miracles after he’s had such a miserable life.

Shadowheart

-”Come on boys, you can help mummy on the farm this afternoon.”

-Shadowheart wasn’t blind to your snippy tone with her and she also wasn’t blind to the problem either. 2 over ecstatic boys who were just over the moon that school was out for the summer. 

-”Tomorrow you all can help me tend to the plants and animals all day. Does that sound fun?” 

-Shadowheart will smother you in kisses that night after you’re finally a little less overstimulated, if you ask maybe she’ll do some of those Sharran torture tactics on you after the boys are tucked in of course.

Halsin

-”They are children, my heart. They are untamed beasts.”

-Halsin will laugh and kiss your forehead as if you’re the silliest of geese, but he’ll still take out all of the adopted children, just to give you a much needed break.

-The kids come back with every rock, flower, and stick that made them think of you. Each one of them telling you of the adventures daddy Halsin had taken them on that day.

-”It is my job as your husband to care for the children as well, my heart. Just tell me if you need a break.” 

Lae’zel

-“Xan, your mother is the liberator of our people and you’re treating her like any common istik.”

- Lae’zel takes the overzealous boy out to run him through some drills. When he comes back inside he’s tired and remembers why you’re his favorite parent. 

-”I told him we don’t make women cry. Especially our mothers and then I made him do twenty sword swings.”

-Xan doesn’t like swords so he will definitely not be acting a fool like that again. 

-*I wasn’t really sure what to do with Lae’zel because I didn’t raise the egg with her. We did hot lesbian gith and bard stuff And by stuff, I mean fighting Vlaakith’s warriors. 

[thatsmzbitchtoyou]

Marriage Problems Chapter 1

Summary: They’ve been married for 19 years, their 20th anniversary coming up soon.  Older, busier, and stuck on the repeat of their daily lives, Y/N and Bucky are struggling.  Their marriage is good, but feeling rocky the last few years as they’ve settled into this stage of their lives.  Can they get their spark back?  Or is it better to do the unthinkable, and move on without each other?

Warnings:  language, forced kiss, eventual smut

Next chapter

“Come on kids, let’s go!” Y/N shouted, filling up lunch boxes and plating breakfasts.

The pounding of feet on the stairs and the ever-present sound of raised, upset voices filled the kitchen as they all thundered in.

“Just leave me alone!” the oldest, Becca, yelled at the second, Winnie.

“All I asked was to borrow your cardigan,” Winnie scoffed, then turned to Y/N.  “Mama, why can’t I borrow her cardigan?”

“‘Cause it’s not yours,” Y/N huffed, putting down the plates on the table then turning to grab glasses for their orange juice.  “Respect the no.”

“Yeah, respect he no, butthead,” Becca smirked.

“Don’t call your sister a butthead,” Y/N said loudly, bringing over the glasses and filling them up.  

“Mama, I don’t want eggs and toast,” the youngest, James, whined as he sat at the table, scowling at the plate of food.

“Well then get up earlier to make your own breakfast next time,” Y/N sighed, turning away from the table to load their lunch boxes into their backpacks.  “Hurry up and eat, the bus will be here soon.”

“But I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” James said incredulously.  Y/N looked at him like he’d grown a second head, and he quickly started eating.  “I’ll eat fast and go do it,” he said quickly to appease her.

She shook her head as she started cleaning the kitchen, the girls continuing to fight as another set of footsteps echoed down the stairs.  “Good morning my spawn,” Bucky called out to the kids as he swept through the kitchen.

“Morning Dad!” they all chimed in unison, before going back to their previous fighting.

He rounded the island and hesitantly walked up to Y/N, who barely glanced at him as she held out a lunch box and his usual breakfast in a bag to him, his regular coffee in a canister sitting on the island.  “Thanks,” he said quietly, taking them from her.  She didn’t say anything, continuing to clean the island of the crumbs and mess from breakfast.  “Uh, I’ll be back close to six today,” he said, trying to strike up a conversation.  “Got a big presentation that might take a while.  I’ll text you if anything changes.”

“Okay, good luck,” Y/N responded, still not looking at him.  

Bucky sighed quietly, then reached a hand out to touch her arm.  Y/N stopped, slowly looking up at him.  They stared at each other for a moment, their children’s voices interrupting the tense atmosphere as Bucky gave her a small smile.  He didn’t say anything further and leaned down to kiss her cheek lightly before pulling away.  “Alright, I’m out,” he announced, walking over to the kids, kissing each of them on top of their heads quickly before heading for the door to the garage.  “Love you!”

“Love you!” they all said back.  

Bucky glanced at Y/N one more time.  She didn’t look back at him, so he left.  On the drive to work he pondered over their relationship for what felt like the millionth time.  The first few years had been perfect.  They were each other’s ride or die, always in each other’s corner as ultimate support through the finishing school-early marriage-settling down in their jobs phase.  Then Y/N got pregnant with their first, and as excited as they were, it changed the dynamics quickly.  She had to cut back hours at work, which she wasn’t happy about since she loved her job, but did it with a smile to support their growing family.  

Then came the second child, then the third.  And they made the difficult decision for her to quit her job and be a stay at home parent.  Bucky was extremely appreciative of Y/N and all she had done for him and the kids through those years.  She was a great mother, and he helped as much as he could when he was home, but having the financial load put on his shoulders was a lot of pressure, and he had worked hard at his job over the years to get to where he was at now to provide them a comfortable living.  At some point along the way they’d gotten into a routine, and life was a little boring for a while.  Bucky expected this, after years of new beginnings and survival.  But what he didn’t expect was how the boredom and monotony would distance them from each other.  Once all the kids entered the adolescent years, suddenly it felt like they were strangers sleeping in the same bed.

Their sex life came to a screeching halt with how busy they were, the kids’ schedules getting jam packed with activities and events and Bucky’s job requiring more hours with the responsibilities he took on being a lead on his team.  Y/N was withdrawing, he could see and feel it.  But he didn’t know how to fix it.  He had tried scheduling dates more often, taking on more things at home to lighten her load, initiating sex even when he was exhausted.  But she had rebuffed his efforts, getting frustrated with him rather than engaging.  He was contemplating marriage counseling, but didn’t know how to bring it up to her, instead doing some research into their insurance options and the marriage counselors available in their area.

The worst part about it all was how much he missed her, and yet she was right there.  How could you miss someone when they’re literally still in your life within arm’s reach?  He shook his head, fighting off the rush of emotions as he pulled in to work.  He couldn’t stress over it now.  This presentation, if successful, could give him a big bonus that he was hoping to use to give Y/N a redo on their honeymoon for their anniversary, since they’d been a couple of poor college kids when they got married.  Maybe some time away for the two of them would rekindle some romance.  Nineteen years was a long time to be with someone, almost twenty with their anniversary coming up in a few months.  He wasn’t willing to give up.  But was she?

“Hey punk,” Steve greeted him.  

“‘Morning, jerk,” Bucky smirked at him, giving him a quick hug.  “Are we all ready?”

“I think so,” Steve said, glancing at the materials for the presentation on the table in front of them.  “I’ve been triple checking everything.  We should be ready to go.”  He looked at Bucky for a second before a small frown darkened his features.  “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, frowning back at him.  “Why?”

“Nothing, you just look…tired,” Steve observed, his eyes narrowing.  He looked around for any prying ears then leaned in closer.  “You and Y/N still having a hard time?”

Bucky sighed and looked away from his knowing gaze.  “Yeah,” he said quietly.  “I don’t wanna talk about it right now, Steve.  Let’s just focus on this, then we can talk about my marriage problems.”

“Who has marriage problems?” Peter asked.

“Jesus!  Parker, how do you just pop up out of nowhere?” Steve griped.

“I don’t,” Peter frowned.  “You just didn’t hear me come in.”

“Quit being snoopy,” Bucky chastised him.  “And it’s none of your business.”

Peter shrugged and walked around the table, looking over everything.  Steve looked back at Bucky and gave him a small, reassuring smile, then clapped his shoulder.  “It’ll be alright,” he said quietly, before turning back to the table and focusing on the presentation with Peter.

Bucky inhaled deeply, trying to relax.  It would be alright.  They’d figure it out and come back together…somehow.

[princesspastel8]

Chapter 3: Secrets

Dipper POV

My grunkles thought it would be a great idea to take everyone out to eat. They claim it would bring us closer together and catch up on what me and Mable been up to since we left. We are at the diner where Susan works.

I stare out the window with my chin resting in the palm oh my hand. I feel as if something bad is going to happen while I'm here. I just want to go home.

"So how has it been with you two kiddos?" Stan asks while looking at us, mainly Mable.

"School was so much fun, grunkle Stan! I met so many guys, but they were all jerks. I made many friends that I'm still in contact with, too! Prom was so much fun too. I had a pink dress and my date was so cute! Oh, and waddles had kids with another pig, but we had to give them away...." Mable said, pouting at the end.

"Well, that's something. I would've given those boys that did you wrong a knocking to! Haha!" Stan said while trying to flex the muscles that he barely has.

"What about you, Dipper?" Ford asks while writing something about a two-headed squirrel.

"Grow any chest hair?" Stanley jokes.

Mable giggles, "I highly doubt he has. I still have that small curly hair in my scrapbook."

I groan as I begin tapping my leg. "You know I'm not a fan of chest hair nor any kind of hair except the hair on my head and face."

"Oh come oooooon Dipper! Lighten up." Mable pouts while nudging my arm.

I tense up and turn my head, giving her a warning look. Just how many times do I have to remind her not to fucking touch me?!

Mable stops, nodding her head. "Sorry, dip dot."

"What happened just now?" Ford asked.

"Oh, nothing! But yeah, Dipper, do you or do you not have chest hair? I bet it's still the same as it was when we were 12!"

Mable and Stan laugh while Ford is to focus on that damn squirrel. I groan, pulling my hoodie off in front of them. I look at their blank expression, my lips in a thin line. "Happy now?"

Mable and Stan look shock while Ford stares at me. "Oh wow, Dipper, I didn't know you had abs!"

"Well damn kid, you did grow chest hair, even though it's stubble. You're one of those kids who shave chest hair." Stan sighs disappointly.

"Dipper, what is that on you back?" Ford asks.

My eyes widen slightly, but I keep my blank stare. "Nothing, Ford."

"Mable, what's on his back?"

Mable looks as her eyes widen. "U-uh....It's Bill's wheel grunkle Ford."

"Why would you get such a thing done to you, Dipper?!" He shouts.

"Quite down, Stanford. Don't draw attention to us." Stanley comments.

I frown once more, quickly putting my hoodie back on. "I was bored and got drunk one night. Everything else is a blur after that...." I said, lowering my head, memories of that day traveling back.

Mable coughs to clear the air. "I'm sure Dipper only got it because it looks cool!"

"Yeah....let's just order." Stan said.

"Oh hi, Stanley!" Susan chirps.

Stan groans as Ford and mable chuckles. "We would like to order." Said Ford.

"Two pancakes." ,said Stan and Ford.

"A pancake, eggs, and bacon!"

"Monster stack." I said blankly.

"Whoa! Do you think you can handle that? I remember when you were just a boy!"

"Yeah, kid, I don't think you can handle that -"

I cut Stan off by slamming my fist on the table. I jump over Mable and walk over to that damn manly test machine that I could barely ring. I pick up the hammer and slam it down on the button. I watch as the ball inside the machine hits the bell so hard that it cracks and breaks apart. I hiss, placing my hand on the side of my left face.

"Stay calm, Dipper....Just stay calm." I whisper to myself while taking slow, deep breaths.

I walk back over to my family. "I lost my appetite, but as you can see, I'm no longer a kid. So I would appreciate it if you all stopped calling me that. Anyways....I'll be out for awhile." I said, walking out of the diner as quickly as I can.

I walk towards the forest, pulling at my hair with both of my hands. "Ugh damnit! I'm not a fucking kid I'm a grown ass man!" I shout, punching the nearest thing next to me which is a tree.

I look at my bloody knuckle and sigh, chuckling. "Christ Bill, I think your short temper is rubbing off on me."

I rub my fingers over the dent I made in the tree. "Why don't I go blow off some steam, yeah?"

○○○○

I step over the 'keep out' tap that's tapped all over the trees surrounding the minigolf court. I walk towards the center and whistle with my two fingers.

"ATTACK!!" I hear one shout as they begin to throw sticks at me.

I smirk and stomp on the first set of fighters, blue color liquid splashing on my shoes. I watch as many begin to crawl up my leg. I reach down to grab five of these damn things. I shove them into my pocket and run out of there. I'm not stupid, I can't take on thousands of those mini shitty golf heads.

I laugh loudly, whipping the sweat off my forehead. That was so cool. The sound of golf heads crushing under my boot brings satisfaction throughout my whole being! Well, next on the list is the nom vomit. I walk down the trail I remember that leads to the noms hideout. Once I get there, I knock on one of the trees, one nom coming out, and to my dislike, it's the one that talks a lot.

"Oh wow, look at this! Dipper, is that You? Wow, it's been a while since I last saw you. How is your sister doing? You know the offer to still marry her is on the table -"

I cut him off by kicking him in the stomach. He groans and leans over, clutching his stomach in pain. I pull a jar from my duffle bag and place it in front of him.

"You talk too much. Now be of use and hack it up before I kick you again."

He looks at me with fear clouding his eyes and begins to throw up rainbow crap they call vomit. I take the jar and close it, placing it back into my bag once he's done. I walk away, heading back towards the diner. When I made it to the end of the forest, its nightfall.

I reach into my pocket, pulling out a minigolf creature. I smirk as I hold it by its head, placing my two fingers on its body. I watch as it cries, feeling the fear through my fingertips.

"Remove the body slowly from the head." I said, remembering the intrusions given by the journal.

I slowly pull, biting my lip at the sound of the cracks and snaps. "The eyes and mouth will wither from its holes, leaving access to the soul of the sacrifices."

I pull out a different jar, placing the head inside of it. I repeat the process four more times before reaching in my bag for my change of clothes I picked up from the shack as well as my other things. I change into a black pair of pants, a black hoodie, and place leather glove on my hands. I pull out my favorite knife and walk towards the diner.

I can hear Susan's annoying humming from here. I rub my finger over the blade that I place in my pocket. I place the jar on the bar stand as I let out a chuckle.

"O-oh my! Who's there?!" I hear her shout from the kitchen area.

"Come and find out. I think you'll like the surprise." I chuckle, trying to control my laughter.

I watch as she stupidly listens to me. I walk towards her, slowly pulling out my knife. She looks down at the blade, her eyes widening.

Before she can scream, I jump on her, causing both of us to fall. I place my hand over her mouth, raising my blade that in the air.

"Do I still look like that kid you remember, Susan?" I laugh as I stab her over and over again, drops of blood splashing on my face.

I slit her throat for good measure, watching the blood ooze from her body. I stand up, holding my head as I feel a slight pressure as if something is forcing its way into my skull.

"B-Bill....is this you d-doing this? B-but I didn't - "

"It's ok, pinetree! The more sacrifices you kill, the more I'm able to use my power beyond the mindscape, but we have company..." I hear Bill's darken voice ring through my ears. I look at the door, my eyes widen in shock.

"D-dipper?" Pacifica shudders, her voice barely above a whisper.

She looks between my knife, Dead Susan, and the door. She quickly grabs the door handle, but I stop her. She freezes and looks back at the wall, noticing the knife next to her head.

She touches her cheek and looks at her fingers. She screams, but I run to her and place my hand over her mouth, squeezing her jawline. She whimpers as I bag her head against the wall, pulling my knife out from it.

"Pacifica Pacifica Pacifica....isn't this the meaning of 'at the wrong at the wrong time'?" I laugh.

She whimpers, digging her nails into my hoodie. I laugh, my vision changing from clear to red. "Oh, I could just kill you right now! Ooooooooooh, but what's the fun in that? Oh yes, yes, yes! Stare at me with those fearful eyes! I think I'm addicted to this-ahahahahahaha!"

I remove my hand from her mouth and placing it on her throat. She gasp, her hands now crawling at my wrist. I laugh louder in her face while placing my knife in between my fingers and rubbing my bloody glove down my face. My eyes roll back as my vision goes from red to yellow, my voice distorted.

"L-let's make a deeeeeeeeeal! You don't tell anyone my pinetree did this, and I promise he won't kill you? Deal?"

She nods her head, gasping as my grip tightens.

"Let's shake on it, llama sweater!" I cheer, placing the knife back into the wall as I hold my hand out while my body begins to twitch.

She quickly grabs it and shakes my hand, blue flames covering it. I drop her to the ground, watching her gasp for air. I watch as she stands and runs out of the diner as fast as she can while the lights in the diner begin to flicker.

"And remember! We'll be watching yoooooooou-ahahahahahaha-HAHAGAGAHA!"

[bihansthot]

So, I wrote a little something, it’s just some relaxing time with the Lin Kuei girlies, a little suggestive maybe but no ratings apply. It’s self ship so don’t get too excited but you can pretend it’s you if you want. Hopefully this will help get me out of my writers block! Any feedback is always welcome thanks lovelies!

I sigh with relief as my aching body slips into the welcome warmth of the hot springs, enjoying the luxuries of the Lin Kuei’s main temple. I have been sick all week thanks to my youngest son bringing home the flu from school, thankfully my flu shot from last year seemed to help and I was able to keep it going for the most part but today my body had had enough. I sink up to my chin in the blissful, restorative water before I hear soft footfalls, I don’t think much of them though.

“Lady Sol, I didn’t mean to disturb you, I didn’t know you were here,” I hear a soft voice call.

“Sektor, it’s fine, come sit with me,” I call my husband’s second-in-command over, we’re quite close and I’m quite fond of her company.

“Again my apologies,” she repeats and slips gracefully in next to me, close but not too close to feel uncomfortable knowing I had not grown up with public baths as she had.

“How are the new initiates doing? Bi-Han has been so busy getting ready for his brother’s wedding that he hasn’t said much,” I crack an eye open to glance at the female warrior.

“It’s going well, the new recruits are shaping up to be worthy of the Lin Kuei name,” Sektor relaxing as if she suddenly remembered she could be herself with me.

“How’s Cyrax? I haven’t seen her in a few days, she usually works with the twins on Wednesdays.” I reply a bit worried about her whereabouts.

“Apologies my lady, I was away on a mission this week, I thought the Grandmaster would have told you,” Cyrax suddenly appears before joining us in the relaxing water.

“Honestly he might have, I don’t listen to everything he says on the best weeks and poor Shixue has been sick with the flu all week and gave it to me and my brain has been a quagmire,” I respond apologetically.

“Are you feeling any better?” Sektor asks, her warm lips pressed against my forehead checking for a fever. “You feel warm still,” she frowns.

“Sektor I’m in a hot spring, of course I’m going to be warm, I’m fine now, well except for my stomach but that’s tolerable,” I try and assuage her worries.

“Are you pregnant again?” Cyrax chimes in, her brown eyes suddenly lighting up.

I laugh loudly, “I hope not! The egg hasn’t even hatched yet, though Bi-Han would be thrilled if I was.”

“He does love children, you wouldn’t think it with his abrasive personality but I’ve never seen him happier than when he became a father,” Sektor remarks sinking back into the water.

“You can give him one next,” I laugh and splash her lightly.

Her face goes as scarlet as her armor and she starts sputtering, “my lady I couldn’t possibly I mean what are you talking about he’s my Grandmaster and your husband!”

“Sektor I’m not blind, I know your feelings for him, it’s fine I can share him again,” I smile at her and give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“And I can be an auntie again!” Cyrax exclaims flinging water everywhere in her excitement.

“I can’t win against you two can I?” Sektor laughs before sighing, “how do I tell him though?”

“I can if you like, or, or better idea, you just join me in bed one night and we’ll seduce him together! He loves seeing Sareena and I together, I’m sure he’d go crazy for the two of us,” I grin at her feeling confident in my plan.

“M-my lady? The two of us? Together? With the Grandmaster?” Sektor’s voice rises in octaves as she continues.

“Well yeah, we share Sektor it’s all a big package, you don’t get Bi-Han without me too,” I explain.

“I-I understand and that’s perfectly acceptable I’m just afraid my lack of experience may displease you both,” she blurts out flushing deeper.

“Oh don’t worry about that, Bi-Han will LOVE that and I’ll help you out,” I smile softly feeling the tired knots finally leave my body.

“Too bad I’m not in love with the Grandmaster too, I’m feeling left out!” Cyrax pouts playfully before draping herself across my lap.

“At least you have the kids to keep you company though,” I laugh and pinch her cheeks lightly.

“There’s always Syzoth,” Sektor ventures trying to cover up her perpetual blush.

“He is cute, but I think I’m more into girls these days,” Cyrax hums.

“Thank you for volunteering my other partner,” I shove Sektor playfully, before the three of us can get into a massive water fight we hear heavy footfalls.

“Qin are you in here?” Bi-Han’s deep voice calls out.

“I am but I have company pervert so no peeking!” I call back sticking my arms over the girls chests as they both try and sink as far in the water as possible.

“Who’s in there,” he asks sounding a bit annoyed as if he wanted some alone time.

“Sektor and Cyrax are keeping me company,” I reply.

“Oh, good I just wanted to check on you since you don’t feel well and I was worried you’d feel too lightheaded. Don’t stay in too long, Bingbing is looking for you for a bedtime story, I tried but nope it’s gotta be Mama,” he explains before turning to leave.

“Well ladies, looks like I’ve been summoned, Sektor come by tomorrow before dinner and we’ll work something out,” I give her a wink before standing up and grabbing a towel, I dry myself off and follow after Bi-Han who waited for me.

“What business do you have with Sektor?” He asks, brows furrowing with curiosity.

“You’ll find out sooner or later, but I think you’ll be pleased,” I smile and stand on my tiptoes to press a kiss to my husband’s cold cheek. I pull on layers of warm clothing before donning my fur-lined robe and heading back into the bracing cold to read to my daughter.

[spinnerprincess]

"Appeal" (Dragalia Lost, Chelle/Cleo, 813 words)

Femslash February prompt for 2/19: Puzzle

What is it that drives her?

For most people, it's easy to crack them open, as an egg gently against the side of a basin, and see what's inside. With only a few sentences she can find their purpose, be it love, be it money, be it survival, justice, or devotion.

Cleo remains a puzzle.

Her hair is beautiful. Despite assumptions one might make, there is no indication that its two-toned loveliness results from dyes. There may be magical influence involved, but not of a kind Cleo works to upkeep. What has caused it?

Her nature is polite, but steadfast. Even amongst would-be allies her gaze is flinty, guarded and aware of possible danger. What makes her so aware?

Her history is itself shrouded in mystery. All Euden will say is that Cleo is the caretaker of the Halidom, which presents more curiosities than answers. Where does she come from?

She is a little heavy. The trend these days is for women, especially of Chelle's stature, to achieve beauty through being slim. Though Chelle doesn't know if that trend extends to sylvans, Cleo likes food, not just for herself, but for others as well. It brings her joy to cook and to eat, to share with companions, and no passing trend will change her mind. Yet, she also appears so solitary. Why?

She heals, but there is more to her than just that. She brims with magic. Cleo is a lock awaiting the right key, in Chelle's opinion, and she can't help but wonder what will cause her power to open up. In the meantime, she mends wounds with care, possessing a genuine thoughtfulness that many studious healers lack.

Chelle finds her magic appealing, her shape appealing. Chelle finds her colors appealing, her bearing appealing, her personality appealing. All of it, wrapped in one curious little package.

And goodness, if she doesn't find Cleo's mistrust and disdain for her also deeply, frustratingly appealing.

But what makes her tick?

Chelle wants to dress her up. She wants to remove her from those drab, unfashionable peasant's clothes and see her made into the vision she deserves to be. It's not an innocent desire, in the least. It would be a turn-on: both the resulting look, and the sense of claiming that would come of it.

Cleo doesn't seem opposed to the clothing, specifically. No; she senses, and bristles at, the other intent lurking the beneath: the desire Chelle has to make Cleo hers. And, to someday pry each of her secrets from her, to learn the answers to all the questions Cleo dodges with artful wordplay and unfailing bite.

"I do hope you enjoyed your foray into the dressing room," Chelle says over the top of her fan, fondly. "You may keep the outfit you wore when I had you dance with Euden, if you wish. I can think of no better home for it."

Cleo eyes her, ever wary. "I think I won't be keeping your tool of humiliation."

"Humiliation?" Chelle raises an eyebrow. "I only meant to prove you capable of enjoying yourself, despite your obstinacy."

Cleo presses her lips together in restrained displeasure. "Dressing me in fine clothes just to prove a point is no kindness."

"Dear sylvan, your humiliation was not my intent," says Chelle. "Only to see you crack a smile, and to show your other companions a hint of your worth. They had grown used to overlooking you, had they not? After my stunt, they rethought their estimation of you. They removed you from the box of a simple servant into which you had been placed. Is that not so?"

All of it is true. There are other reasons, of course, but Chelle knows better than to scare Cleo off with the full thrust of her intent.

"Perhaps," Cleo admits, after a pause. "But I didn't ask you to remove me from that box."

There's no defense Chelle can conjure for that, so she simply inclines her head, conceding the point.

Cleo offers a simple curtsy, stepping away. "Thank you for offering us the hospitality of Chanzelia."

"My pleasure! Nothing less for my dear, foolhardy brother," Chelle promises sweetly. "And should you ever return, I, and my collection, will ever be available to you."

And there it is, at last - the spark she's been hoping for. The first piece of the alluring, endless puzzle. Cleo rises from her curtsy not entirely with dislike, but with a question in her eyes. A spark of curiosity, now made mutual. "Your Highness," she murmurs, and departs.

Chelle will see her again, perhaps even on more personal terms, next time. She can certainly work from a single spark, if she nurtures it with care, and takes her time well before attempting to turn it into a wonderful, all-encompassing lightning storm.

Chelle hides her smile behind her fan, knowing it will be too broad without.

[aziminohi1992]

Okay. So since my last fic post I have calmed down and actually READ things through instead of panic skimming. LancexFayeOC. This one is more PG-13 but contains Suspense, fear, drama, light swearing, themes of being trapped...you get the point. There is some fluff though. I still don't have an AO3 account but will link when it finally goes through. Oh btw this is nearly 7k words long....yeah. I have zero chill when it comes to writing. If I tried to make a chapter fic it would never end. Probably. Once again I would like to thank the lovely @maggplays for her help and support!

So let's find out how Lance reacts when he returns to the farm to find that his wife never made it home.

Shattered Earth

It was an ordinary Wednesday morning. One just like any other on Willow Haven farm, the farmer and her husband rising with the sun to begin the day. The man made a start on cooking breakfast while his wife went about her morning chores. It was to be their usual fare, farm fresh eggs, pancakes, and hash browns made from potatoes grown by the farmer’s own hand. It wasn't until Lance had married the love of his life that he was required to set foot in a kitchen regularly. Not that he couldn't cook, he had simply lacked the equipment and ingredients necessary to make anything that couldn’t be roasted over a campfire.

Even then, food other than the field rations normally available to adventurers was scarce. His wife's cooking was still far superior in his opinion, but today his would have to do. Since he was not solely dependent on his own income any longer, and his wanderlust had been decidedly tamed, he'd reduced the number of contracts he took on as a combat mage for the Ministry and as an adventurer. He had a few long-term ones he still held onto and of course he continued to work with his clan, the First Slash, but he had ended some of the more dangerous ones. He had no desire to leave Faye a widow. Not a moment later the woman in question entered the house already damp with sweat from the summer heat, a basket of eggs in one hand and a pail of milk in the other, she strode into the kitchen to place both on the opposite counter from where Lance was plating their morning meal. "That smells delicious Lance, I'm starved." She kissed his cheek, bringing a smile to his face before snagging the cup of coffee he had waiting for her and sat at the table to sip at the hot brew, sighing happily. He set her plate in front of her, piled high with food. “Then you’re in luck. I made plenty.”, he informed her, taking his own seat as she gleefully tucked into her meal. “Yoba, this is so good. I don’t know why you insist your cooking is terrible.” He chuckled. “I was ruined for all other fare the first time you fed me, my love. Nothing else has tasted truly good to me since.” Her face immediately turned a bright red. Her husband wasn’t one for empty flattery. “You’re heading to the First Slash today, right?” He grinned at her not so subtle change of subject. “I am. Is there anything you would like for me to do for you while I’m there?” She chewed thoughtfully for a few seconds. “I could use some more potion ingredients. We’re running low and I haven’t had time to restock them myself.” He inclined his head in agreement. “I can do that. Jolyne keeps the clan stores well stocked, I’m sure she won’t mind selling us what we need. What are your plans for the day, beloved?”, he asked, taking his now empty plate to the sink. “I have a few more chores left here on the farm but after that I’m heading into the mines. We’re running low on iron ore. There are  repairs I need to make but I don’t have enough. I refuse to buy it from Clint. He charges far too much for unrefined ore when I can get it myself.” She scowled, her irritation with the blacksmith evident, joining her husband at the counter to help with the breakfast dishes. With the two of them working together the task went by quickly and before long Lance was geared up and ready to leave. Faye walked with him to the Nexus warp located behind the farmhouse. Before stepping through it he turned to his wife, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him, cupping her cheek in his free hand, kissing her thoroughly. “Be careful in the mines today, my heart. I have every confidence you can handle yourself but you do have a tendency to be reckless on occasion.” She sighed. “I’ll try. Be careful yourself, alright?” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I will. I’ll be back tomorrow morning.” He released her reluctantly and, stepping back into the warp, he vanished from sight. He’d been gone for all of a second and she already missed him. She sighed once more, turning towards the farm. “Alright. Time to get to work.”

Two warps later Lance arrived at Fable Reef, the island the First Slash called home. “Excellent timing. We’re getting ready to head out now. Are you ready to go?” Jolyne, the clan's leader, called out to him as she approached, having seen him arrive.  He grinned, striding forward to clasp forearms with her. “Ready as ever. The expedition is still on then?” She nodded. “Of course.That sea cave won’t explore itself.” The two adventurers went to join the squad gathering on the beach. With Lance’s arrival they now had the mages necessary to make it down to the cavern without incident. Each member of the team had a plentiful stock of mana potions to ensure the mages’ strength would last the day and everyone would return home safely. “Alright people! Move out!” At her command the mages cast their spells and the group walked into the sea, Jolyne in the lead, plunging into the ocean depths. They followed the shoreline of the island for a short time before turning off and heading out into the reef, passing by colorful fish and coral alike, the torpedo trout rushing harmlessly by. The crystalline waters grew darker the deeper they went, glow rings flaring to life when the light had faded almost completely. Soon enough their destination came into view, the dark maw of the sea cave opened wide, the cavernous entrance swallowing them whole. They followed the watery passageway until it opened up into a large enclosed grotto filled with kelp and sea grasses. Eels and other more mysterious creatures fled the unnatural light of their enchanted rings. The only way left to go being up, the party ascended until they broke the surface of the water into a large air pocket that led into the dungeon proper. Lance and Jolyne were the first to climb out of the water, the combat mage standing guard while his commander ensured the rest of the team made it safely onto shore. One of his clanmates, Drake, came up beside him. “Seen anything?” Lance shook his head. “Nothing yet.” Soon Jolyne gave the order to move on, the team of adventurers striding forward into the inky blackness of the unknown.

As Lance was venturing deeper into the dark, Faye was heading further into the cold of the ice floors in search of iron ore deposits. Her spelunking trip had been fairly uneventful so far apart from a few slimes and dust sprites, her Galaxy sword making quick work of the weaker monsters. Finding the ore however had been more frustrating. She’d found some but not nearly enough for her purposes. She headed down the ladder to the fiftieth floor deciding now was as good a time as any to take a break. Sitting against the wall near the elevator, she dug inside her pack for the lunch she had made for herself before she left. Since the mines here weren’t as dangerous as the Skull Cavern in the desert, or the climb to the island caldera she had brought something lighter than usual; she hadn’t originally planned to spend so much time in the tunnels below the mountain. I may have to make a second trip tomorrow….Maybe Lance will want to come with me. At least then it won’t be so boring if it turns out like this again. I really need to start paying more attention to Welwick’s program…., she mused, taking bites out of her Survival Burger. She absently looked through her bag while she ate, taking stock of her remaining supplies. Even if the danger here was minimal, being undersupplied was a bad idea. Hmmm….I’ll need to buy more Life Elixirs from Dwarf before I leave today. I don’t have enough purple mushrooms to make them myself. Some bombs too. She sighed and brushed her hands off on her jeans before inspecting the integrity of her weapon and tools. It was unlikely a heavenly sword and iridium tools would degrade but stranger things had happened to her here in the valley. At this point there wasn’t a whole lot that could surprise her. Even Sam’s theory of aliens seemed more and more plausible, especially after that strange capsule had showed up in her fields a few years ago. She pulled a bottle of water from her pack and drank half of it before getting to her feet and slinging her gear back over her shoulder. Pickaxe in hand, she strode towards the ladder to the next floor, the bells on her boots jingling cheerfully as she went.

Hours later, the men and women of the First Slash had probed as far into the sea cavern as their supplies would allow and several members of the group had minor injuries picked up from skirmishes with monsters and unstable terrain. Lance himself had managed to remain unscathed but that was subject to change at any time. They had taken a short rest to tend to their wounded and take stock of their inventory, a task that led to the discovery that their potions were running dangerously low. In the end Jolyne decided it was time to head back, they’d restock and return another time to finish the exploration of the cave. Now that they had a partial map, returning to this point would be much easier. By the time they made it back to the Clan Hall, night had fallen and the few guild members that had remained on the island were waiting with dinner for the returning adventurers. The clan leadership dined together to discuss strategy and logistics for the next expedition into the deeps and eventually decided they would try again a week from then. It was late into the night by the time Lance made it to his bed in the room provided for him by the clan. Weary from the long trip, he sluggishly stripped down in preparation for bed. Clad in only his boxers he slipped under the covers, sighing heavily. Now that he was still, without the threat of monster attack or the stress of planning the next dungeon dive, his thoughts turned to his wife. He had grown used to sharing a bed with her, now that loneliness was no longer his constant companion he missed her warmth. It made drifting off on the days he was required to sleep elsewhere all the more difficult. Tonight was no better. Briefly he thought of using the communication crystal he had gifted her years ago when he had proven to be a disaster with a cell phone (the cursed things were far too easy to lose or damage) to speak to her for a few minutes before bed, if only to ease the mounting anxiety he felt. It was an unfamiliar emotion, moments like this were few and far between for him; as used to unknown stressful situations as he was, the twinges of anxiety felt strange.. A glance at the clock on the wall told him that it was unlikely she was still awake, being well after midnight. Unwilling to risk waking her, he rolled over to face the opposite wall and attempted to banish the feelings of disquiet from his mind. Had he been less exhausted, he may have paid more attention to it and realized it wasn’t simple distress he was experiencing, but rather a premonition of what was waiting for him at home.

Faye glanced at her watch and clicked her tongue derisively. One in the morning and I barely have half of what I need. Her growl of displeasure turned to a sigh of defeat.  I suppose I should head home. No sense in continuing now, maybe I’ll have better luck tomorrow. It’s supposed to rain so I won’t have to worry about the crops with broken sprinklers anyway. Which was the main reason she was down here hunting ore to begin with. Not wanting to waste a totem, she decided to head towards the ladder to the next floor, being on the 69th level of the mines, catching the elevator there was the fastest way out. Once back at the top she’d take the minecarts to the Bus Stop and then walk the rest of the way home. She’d taken all of three steps before the earth shifted and the entire mine began to shake violently, knocking her off balance. She stumbled into the cave wall as rocks began falling all around her. SHIT! There was no time to think, frantically dodging the falling stones she beelined for the nearest cover she could find that would potentially be a little safer than staying out in the open with boulders crashing down around her. She ran as quickly as she could towards the closed off tunnel in front of her, hoping there would be enough room beneath the support beams for her to squeeze under them. She cried out as a falling stalactite ran through her pack, painfully ripping it off her shoulder but didn’t stop her frantic rush towards relative safety. She shoved herself into the cramped space as far she could, praying the beams above were sturdy enough to survive the collapse. She squeezed her eyes shut, clinging to the wall behind her desperately, her heart pounding in her ears loud enough to drown out the sounds of stone crashing all around her. The distant screech of metal on metal heralded the end of the elevator as the cables snapped, followed by a resounding crash from somewhere near the bottom of the mine. Suddenly the shaking stopped, the sound of falling rocks with it. Breathing heavily, she worked up the courage to open her eyes, blinking away the dust, only to be greeted by a solid wall of stone barely more than a few feet in front of her the beams over head the only reason she hadn’t been crushed, the light of her glow ring only compounding the hopelessness of her predicament. She was buried alive, the bag containing her escape totems and supplies on the other side of the wall likely destroyed along with the communication crystal Lance had gifted her on her birthday the first year they were married. Her legs gave out and she slid slowly to the ground in the cramped space as her claustrophobia took hold and panic set in right before she blacked out. 

Lance had slept badly, unease plaguing him insistently throughout the night. By the time morning came he was convinced something was terribly wrong. His gear slung over his shoulder, the potion ingredients Faye had requested forgotten in his haste, he apologized to Jolyne for his unusually abrupt departure and left the reef without so much as eating breakfast. Not that he had any appetite to begin with.  He stepped out of the warp, returning home at last. At first glance he already knew his hunch was correct. Even in the pouring rain he could see signs of damage everywhere, but not one hint of his wife. She would never have allowed her land to remain in such disrepair, rain or no rain. The windows of the farmhouse were dark as he approached, another sign that something was desperately wrong, their normal waking time long past. He burst into the house, panic setting in, everything inside was in disarray. Pictures and precious items had fallen from their shelves, many of them shattered, shards of glass and ceramics littering the floor. “Faye!”, he called her name as he strode towards their bedroom, hoping for a response. “Fay-”, his voice gave out, her name dying on his lips when he saw the corner of the room where she kept her mining gear was empty. Faye had never returned home.He felt as though the world had fallen out from beneath his feet, his body going cold with a kind of terror he had never experienced before, chilling him down to his very soul. He dropped his bag onto the bed, digging frantically for his communication crystal, only to have his heart sink further still. The normally glittering gem was dark and lifeless, meaning only one thing. The stone it was paired with had been destroyed. Still reeling from the fresh surge of emotion, he whirled on his heel, storming back out into the rain towards the warp rune behind the house.

The fact that her Nexus was still functional meant she was alive, but it did nothing to assuage his fears. Depending on what had happened, that was liable to change quickly.  He sped through the grove heading straight for the warp to the Adventurer’s Guild nearest the mines, dread curling in his stomach at what he might find there. Once through, it was obvious something catastrophic had occurred. Adventurers from all over were gathered around the front of the mines, their quiet conversations stilling at Lance’s appearance. They moved quickly out of the way as he approached the cave entrance, following the sound of raised voices inside.“-why the hell wouldn’t we tell him Magnus? He’s her husband for Yoba’s sake. He has a right to know what’s going on if he hasn’t figured it out already. He won’t stay on that island all damn day and you know it! He’ll come home and find her gone eventually.” Marlon’s gruff voice rang out, the usually calm warrior obviously incensed, followed by Magnus’s velvety tone “And what would that accomplish other than creating further problems? You can’t expect him to remain rational when his wife is in such danger! Lance will be told after- "

”I’ll be told after what exactly?”  

The quiet, deep voice of the combat mage cracked through the cavern like a whip, the air around him charged with fury. Marlon took one look at the redhead and put up his hands in surrender. “Well Magnus? You want to tell him now or should I?” The older mage glared at the other man before turning to face the younger wizard in front of him. “There was an earthquake in the valley last night causing many of the denizens of the mines to flee. By the time the situation was brought under control….it came to our attention that Faye was inside when the disaster hit. We have…no idea where to begin looking for her other than she isn’t within the first 30 floors. The locator spell’s range will go no further without a tracking charm being placed in advance. We’ve begun clearing the debris as quickly as is safe to descend further. I was hoping to hold off on informing you until we had more details pertaining to her location at least.” Lance closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in an effort to control his raging temper, crossing his arms over his chest. “And you thought that was a good idea? To keep me unaware when my wife could be dying in those tunnels? Not once did you think I might have any information that might prove helpful in locating her before time runs out? Just because your wife didn’t bother to communicate with you doesn’t mean mine does the same. Did you know she’s claustrophobic? Wherever she is she’s completely terrified!” Magnus winced at the mention of his ex-wife, glancing away from the younger man, no longer able to meet those blazing violet eyes. “I…did not.” Silence fell. “Alright lad, that’s enough. Tearing Magnus’s head off isn’t going to get you any closer to finding Faye. What do you know?” Marlon had decided to step in, a calm steady presence, the hand the older man had placed on his shoulder helping to ground the normally composed Lance. He growled in frustration. Marlon was right, now was decidedly not the time to tear the purple-haired sorcerer apart. No matter how much he wanted to.“She was after iron. She’ll be somewhere between the 40th and 80th floors. Knowing her…closer to 80 than 40.” Suddenly, he had an idea. “The elevator is down?” Marlon nodded. “The cables broke, it crashed damn near all the way to the bottom. Looks to be at about level 95 or so.” He cast his eyes over at the grizzled warrior. “The shaft is clear?” Another nod. “Good.” He strode towards the open elevator doors, leaning slightly to look down the shaft, the faint glow of lava at the bottom giving him a general idea of how far down his target was. “What are you planning lad?” He glanced back over his shoulder at the group behind him. “Something reckless.”, he admitted, before stepping out into open air.

The wind rushed in his ears as he plummeted, using the levitation spell he had cast to control his speed, he kept track of his descent using the elevator doors as markers, coming to a halt at the 60th floor. His hope was that this new position would put Faye within range of a locator spell. Finding her was the only thing he cared about now. A speech spell popped into existence next to his ear. “Have you gone insane?!” Magnus’s irate voice practically seethed over the transmission. Lance chuckled humorlessly. “Not just yet. Right now I’m simply desperate.”, he retorted, dismissing the communication before narrowing his focus on the spell he had chosen to find Faye. One floor, two floors….nine floors down from here there was a faint presence, one decidedly not belonging to a monster. He dropped further down the elevator shaft passing the next door before stopping in front of the one leading to the 70th floor. This one had been knocked slightly ajar by the quake, a large boulder had crashed into it partially blocking it. He would need to be careful, if he wasn’t the boulder would take him with it when plunged into the abyss below once the doors were no longer in the way. Gripping one half of the door he pulled, forcing it open, making sure to stay out of the boulder’s path. It wouldn’t do his wife any good if he got himself hurt or worse trying to save her. Slowly the metal doors creaked open, squealing as the stone scraped against them. Grunting with effort, he managed to pry the doors open enough that, with an almighty screech, the weight of the boulder forced them apart as it fell out of the gap to drop onto the already broken elevator below. Carefully he dropped down onto the elevator landing. Now he had to find a way up. He picked his way through the rubble, alert for any monsters that remained, the only light supplied by his glow ring and a few flickering mine lanterns that had miraculously survived. His hand on the hilt of his sword, he inched forward until he came across the remains of the ladder leading to the upper floor. Several of the ladder rungs were broken, but the tunnel above was mercifully clear. He leapt up, clearing the worst of the damaged rungs, skipping others that were unable to bear his weight as he climbed, levering himself out of the opening onto the rubble-strewn floor.. 

Around the time Lance was frantically searching the farmhouse for her, Faye had begun slowly regaining consciousness. Her head pounding, groaning she pushed herself up into a sitting position, disoriented. After a few seconds she managed to look around at her surroundings. Oh. Right. The cave-in trapped me here…She pressed her back against the wall behind her pulling her knees up to her chest, the barrier in front of her scraping against the toes of her boots. She struggled to keep her mind in order, scrambling for something, anything, to hold onto to keep her sane. Just then an image of the last time she’d seen her husband ran through her head. She sucked in a shuddering breath and pressed her forehead into her knees, clinging to the memory of him with everything she had. It’s alright…I’m alright. I’m alive. I won’t die here. The second Lance finds out what happened he’ll come for me. He’ll find me. Please find me Lance. Please. Hurry. She bit back a sob, crying now would only make things worse. She lost all track of time in the near silent mine, the minutes blurring together while she focused on forcing herself to remain as calm as possible, so when she heard the resounding crash of stone on metal she nearly jumped out of her skin, the sudden noise jerking her violently out of her stupor. She lifted her head, straining her ears for any hint as to what had caused it. I know it might have just been the rocks shifting or a monster knocking something over but…maybe…maybe it wasn’t…

This part of the mine was even more demolished than the last, it looked as if the entirety of the floor  above  had crashed into it. The size of the stones alone made it difficult to move around and even harder to search through. Lance navigated the wreckage as quickly as he dared toward the faint presence of his wife. After slipping around a large boulder the light of his ring glinted off of something in the distance, as he approached he recognized it immediately. It was Faye’s pack, the light shining off her discarded pickax and the silvery iron ore that had fallen from it in the collapse. He would’ve sprinted for it if the terrain hadn’t hindered him. The closer he got, the more terrified he became, what remained of a stalactite piercing the bag through the center. His only consolation the lack of blood nearby. Up until now he’d refrained from calling out, worried any loud noise might trigger another rockslide but now…”Faye!” 

She shot to her feet as quickly as her confines allowed the moment she heard his voice. “LANCE! LANCE I’M BACK HERE!”, she shrieked as loudly as she could, praying he could hear her.

He whirled at the sound of her voice. “Faye! I hear you! I’m coming!”, following her frantic cries he made it to the rock wall separating them. “Faye, I’m here are you alright?”, he asked softly, pitching his voice just loud enough to make it through the stone, fighting back his own emotions in an attempt to calm his terrified wife. Her claustrophobia was clearly taking its toll. “I..I think so…I…I just…I really need out of here. I can’t stay here much longer Lance, I’m so scared I feel like I’m going insane I-” “Shhhh. It’s alright. I’m here now. I’m going to get you out as quickly as I can. I need you to try and stay calm for me, my love. Can you do that?”, he interjected, cutting off her spiral before it could really start. “Just focus on me.” On the other side of the wall he heard her take a deep breath. “Okay…yeah I think I can do that.” He smiled faintly. “That’s my girl. I’m going to see if I can start shifting this stone out of the way. I’m not going anywhere alright?” It was silent for a moment and then, “Okay.” He backed up from where he had been standing and summoned a light spell far brighter than the glow ring he wore to better see what he was up against. From the look of it, it’d be safest to start shifting the rubble  from the top….he only needed enough space to be able to touch her, then he could warp the both of them back to the top of the mine. The problem was being able to move enough stone without making the rest of the debris collapse on either himself or Faye. He activated his levitation spell once more, worried that his weight on the barricade might cause it to fall inward, and drifted to the top of the pile to begin moving one stone at time. After a while he had moved enough to create a small opening in the top, not big enough for either of them to make it through but enough that he could now see her clearly, allowing the light from his spell to filter in. She looked up the second she noticed the extra light meeting his violet eyes with sapphire. Her lips quivered violently, tears sliding down her cheeks. “Lance…” He offered her a gentle smile, relief flooding through him at the sight of her. She was covered in scrapes and bruises and smudged with dirt but otherwise appeared whole. “It won’t be much longer, my darling. Once I get this opened up enough to reach you I’ll be able to warp us out of here. Just hold on a bit more.” She nodded, her eyes fixed on him as he worked, slowly and steadily. A few minutes later, he had the gap widened as far as he could get it without causing the entire thing to collapse. The problem was it still wasn’t quite wide enough for him to reach far enough to touch Faye as far down as she was. Almost, but not quite. “Should I…try to climb up? The stones on this side are really packed in. They didn’t even move when the earthquake hit and everything else was falling.” He looked at the wall in question. “At this point I would say we have little choice. You only need to climb far enough to reach my hand.” She nodded and carefully began scaling the more stable of the two rock piles. Lance floated as close as he could to the opening he had created, an arm outstretched for her to grab once she was close enough. She was inches away when the stone under her feet began to shift. She instinctively jumped for him just as it gave way, the warp spell activating the second her hand clasped his, and the pair materialized in a heap on the top floor of the mines.

Faye clung to her husband like her life depended on it, she sobbed into his shoulder her arms locked around his neck holding onto him as tightly as she could, his arms wrapped around her, his face buried in her hair. “You should take her home, lad. It’ll do her more good to be somewhere safe and familiar than in this damp cave.” It sounded like Marlon speaking but she couldn’t be sure, she really couldn’t care less either. All she cared about was the feeling of Lance’s arms as they shifted to pick her up and carry her away, she barely even registered the feeling of rain on her skin, or the sensation of passing through the warp rune to her Nexus and then the farm. The front door creaked open and then shut without so much as a twitch from her. She felt the bed sink beneath them, heard his boots hit the floor and then hers when he removed them. Laying back on the bed he wrapped himself around her, his cloak draped over them like a blanket and stayed exactly like that until they both fell asleep, exhaustion and relief stealing over them, each reveling in having the other in their arms again.

She awoke to the feeling of Lance’s fingers running gently through her hair, his large frame still wrapped tightly around her. She burrowed deeper into his embrace, pressing her face into the hollow of his throat. “Lance?”, she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Hm?” was his quiet response, a soothing rumble in his chest. “I love you.” He pressed a kiss to the top of her hair at her quiet admission. “I love you too, my darling. More than life itself.” She drew in a shuddering breath as the sound of his voice in her ear chased the last of the fear from her thoughts, her body finally relaxing against him. They laid there quietly for a few more minutes until a quiet knock sounded at the door. Lance sighed. “Do you want me to answer it?” Faye thought hard before nodding. He hesitated for a moment, unwilling to let go of her, before gently disentangling himself from around her and heading for the door. In her husband's absence, she sat up cross legged on the bed and pressed her head in her hands, her arms propped on her knees, listening to the quiet conversation in the next room. It wasn’t a long exchange, the door closing after a minute or so, the mage’s near silent footsteps heralding his return, a ridiculously large basket in hand. She looked up, puzzled. “Who was it?” He sank down onto the bed next to her, setting the basket on the nightstand. “Gus and Shane. The news of what happened has made the rounds. Shane has offered to take care of the animals until the rain lets up. It’s supposed to last another two days so you’ll have a break from the fields. And Gus dropped off a very large basket of food. Apparently everyone in town pitched in, according to him there’s a little bit of everything in there. From the look of it, we won’t have to worry about meals for a week.” The smell wafting from the basket made Faye’s stomach grumble insistently, drawing a chuckle from Lance. “I take it you’re hungry?” She blushed. “Yeah….I haven’t had anything to eat since yesterday afternoon.” He kissed her forehead. “Let’s go to the kitchen and see what’s in this basket then, shall we?”, he suggested, helping her to her feet, picking the basket up once more. Their hands entwined they made their way to the table and sorted through the contents of the enormous care package. Pumpkin soup, curry, vegetable stew, cheese cauliflower, eggplant parm, crispy bass, spaghetti, even a large plate of Evelyn’s cookies, and the portions were anything but small. It was a small wonder it had all fit even with the unconventional size of the basket. “We can choose one or have a little of each...what do you think?” Faye thought about it for all of a second before sighing softly in defeat. “Honestly I don’t have the energy to choose.” Lance reached for her, gently brushing back her curls and caressing her cheek with his fingertips. “A little of everything it is then.” They ate in comfortable silence, both of them still exhausted from the rollercoaster of events since they had parted ways the day before. After putting up the leftovers in the refrigerator they headed back to the bedroom curling up together once more. 

“Hey Lance?”

“Yes?”

“I know we just laid back down but…do you, maybe, want to take a bath? I really need to get the mine stink off of me.”

He laughed softly. “Alright. Bubbles?”

“Yes please.”

He rolled off the bed to start the water running in the tub while his wife gathered clean clothes and towels for them. Once undressed they sank into the tub together, Lance pulling Faye into his lap, his arms wrapped around her waist as she reclined against his chest, eyes closed, burying his face into the side of her neck. She reached up to run her fingers languidly through his hair. They stayed like that until the water began to cool. She didn’t argue when her husband offered to help her wash, even though she didn’t need it, she wanted it. She wanted to be touched as much as he wanted to touch her. They both craved the contact. They got out once they were clean, drying each other off. Draped in a fluffy towel she wound her arms about his waist resting her head on his chest and sighing contentedly when he returned her embrace. "Lance?”, she tilted her head up to meet his eyes, the deep purple orbs looking back at her questioningly. “Kiss me.” He hesitated. That told her all she needed to know. He’d been holding back for her sake, reigning in his desire for physical contact, all but the most chaste of touches, in order to put her needs first. He knew he wouldn’t be able to stop if he kissed her, really kissed her, that it wouldn’t be enough after spending far too long terrified for her safety. “Please Lance. Please kiss me. I need you.”, the pleading tone in her voice broke him, his resolve vanishing in an instant, his mouth came crashing down on hers in a desperate, searing kiss. She gasped into his mouth, his tongue sweeping in, tangling with hers, running his large hands all over her body before he lifted her off the floor and carried her off to their bed, where they spent the rest of the day confirming that they were not dreaming. Faye was safe and they were together. No one was trapped. They were safe and sound in each other's arms.

A few days later Faye was curled up on the living room couch with a book, her chores for the day done, waiting for Lance to come home. He had asked her, very sweetly, to please stay at home while he was gone. “Just for today.” he had stressed, and the look in his eyes had been so very un-Lancelike that she had agreed. His expression had betrayed nothing more than mild concern but his eyes…his eyes had fear hiding behind their violet hue, silently begging her for just this one day to stay at home. If she hadn’t known him so well she might have missed it. So here she sat, her cat Midnight curled up behind her, doing next to nothing for the first time in years. She looked up at the clock, the hands ticking away towards evening, then set her book down on the coffee table and stood, stretching the kinks out of her muscles, making her way into the kitchen to start dinner. She was setting the table when Lance walked in looking as though he’d run a marathon, drenched in sweat. He dropped his gear by the door and strode over to kiss her. Neither of them were the type to care about sweaty kisses. “I brought something for you.” She raised her eyebrows. “Did you now?” He grinned and pulled a small box from his pocket, placing it in her hand. “Open it.” She giggled at his rare impatience, gasping when she removed the lid. Inside was a belt buckle, she’d been needing a new one for her sword belt but that’s not what had surprised her. It was simple and yet…it wasn’t. It was made of iridium, a rare precious metal usually reserved for tools or weapons or large scale projects and machines, not for holding up belts. At first glance there were what looked like ornate designs along the edge, but upon closer inspection, they were actually magic runes carved in Lance’s steady hand, the tiny crystals embedded in the rim sparkling with his magic. He had to have spent most of the day at the dwarven forge making this. She looked up at her husband, mouth agape. “Lance…this is amazing but...what…?” He chuckled at her flabbergasted reaction. “It’s something I’ve been meaning to make for you but had never found the time, and now I wish I had done it sooner. It would have saved us both quite a bit of grief. Whenever you’re in trouble, tap the center twice and I’ll come for you immediately. The spell on it acts as a tracker that only activates when you want it to and only reacts to your touch. Whenever you need me, for whatever reason, use it. Think of it as a way to keep me close, wherever you are. I also have something else for you.” He fished a palm sized crystal out of his other pocket placing it in the box next to the buckle. “This gift I didn’t make, however.” No he didn’t make this one, but it was incredibly expensive. Camilla had let slip just how expensive portable communication crystals were the first time he had purchased a set for them. “Lance, exactly how many times do you intend to sell your soul for these things?” That got a hearty laugh from him, pulling her toward him, his hands on her hips. “As many times as necessary.”, he informed her in a low voice, and kissed her as if the earth could shatter around them and it wouldn’t matter.

[runningfrom2am]

on the one screen in my town; three

summary:

mason’s life with drew was absolutely perfect, she was happier than ever; until everything came crashing down all at once.

tags/warnings:

drew starkey x fem!popstar!oc, drug and alcohol use, death, grief, these tags are not exhaustive, idk i'll add to this as it goes on.

wc: 2.9k

series masterlist

masterlists

The extremely private funeral was only a few weeks later, and Mason was hardly herself anymore. Anyone who knew her could see she was just a shell of herself, hardly there, even when she spoke.

They managed to get a large, private estate in Washington, near her mothers home town, where Mason had grown up. This was perfect for the service, considering it was remote and by exclusive invite only. The last thing anybody wanted was photos or people showing up to ask questions. The media knows almost nothing at this point, just that something has changed and all of Mason's projects have been postponed. Spare, so far, her and Drew's wedding, which was scheduled to take place in two months and thirteen days.

Mason had been counting them down with a childish excitement, but now, as she stands over her mothers coffin, alone, she's dreading it. How can it go on when her mom won't be there to celebrate with them? She can't even imagine it.

"Mason.." She looks up quickly, turning to see Drew as he walks up to her. "It's gonna rain, we've got to head out." He says, wrapping an arm around her and kissing the side of her head.

Everyone else has left, including Este and her family, including Drew's parents, who were kind enough to make the trip from North Carolina, and including her father; and after waiting in the car for her for forty-five minutes, Drew decided enough was enough. He agreed to give her the time alone, of course he did, he wouldn't dream of saying no; but at this point it's not benefitting her anymore. Or him, to sit in the car and watch from a distance as she shakes and stares into space. It's hard to watch.

"Five more minutes?" Mason requests, not having the heart to look up at him.

"Of course." Drew nods, rubbing her shoulder gently. "I'm gonna stay, though."

She nods, leaning her head on his shoulder, lip quivering as she looks down at the coffin, yet to be buried. It's empty, she knows that, but that doesn't make it any easier for her to walk away.

"Jeez, Mace.." Drew sighs softly. He's never figured out what to say, he had hoped it would come to him eventually, but the only thing he's realized is that there is no right answer. Nothing can bring Catherine back, there is not a thing in the world he could do to make her feel better, and he feels so hopeless. "I miss her." He settles on, wanting her to at least know he kind of understands.

"I don't understand... I don't understand why." Mason chokes out, shaking her head and turning to bury her face in his chest, hugging onto him like her life depended on it. It was a car accident, of all things. Wrong place, wrong time. Why did it have to be her?

Drew just shakes his head. "I don't know. She's not gone, though, hey?" He makes sure she's listening, kissing her head again. "She's gonna haunt us like crazy, she could never leave you." He laughs slightly, trying to make her smile.

It works only a little bit, making Mason laugh slightly through her tears. "True. She's gonna be throwing eggs at me if I forget to eat breakfast." She adds, nodding slightly.

"I don't doubt it for a minute." Drew smiles, craning his neck to try and get a look at her smile. He's missed it, she hasn't smiled in weeks. They haven't really talked about any of this yet, but Drew knows he has to wait until she is ready. She's getting there, he can tell. "Can I take you home? I've got to get you fed before Cath uses her ghost powers to try and make you spaghetti or something."

"No." Mason shakes her head. "I hope she does."

"Okay, well, you can explain your late dinner to her so she doesn't come after me." He chuckles, giving her a gentle squeeze.

Three Years Ago

"Mason! I saw on Twitter that you went on a date this week. Twitter! How dare you not call me first!" Catherine says, excitement clear in her tone as soon as her daughter picks up the phone.

"Hi mom." Mason rolls her eyes playfully, dropping her hand to put it on speaker so Este can hear as well.

"Hi Ellen!" Este says, instantly putting her phone down to join the conversation. When they first met, Este had mistakenly remembered Catherine's name as being 'Ellen', and it was just too funny for the three of them to ever let go.

"You can't distract me! Tell me what's going on." Her mom says, making Mason blush and Este grabs the phone from her.

"Oh my god, Ellen, he's a dreamboat! Okay, so, his name is Drew, they met at that premiere I brought her to. That Netflix show I'm working on, Outer Banks? He's in the show. He plays Rafe."

"Oh yes, right. Okay." Catherine laughs, urging her on as Mason buries her face in her hands, shaking her head with embarrassment. "I haven't seen it yet Este but you know it's on my list."

"Yeah, of course! Anyway, you should have seen them, he was like all over her! I'm pretty sure he pretended to 'accidentally' bump into her so they could talk. It was so cute." Este gushes. "Hold on! There's pictures, I'll send them to you."

She grabs her phone again to find the pictures as Catherine fires questions at them. "What did he say? What's he like? Where did you go? Tell me everything I can't wait another minute!"

"Okay, mom, slow down." Mason intervenes. "It was just one date, it's not like he proposed or something."

"Well sorry for being excited! I didn't know that was a crime." She replies with a sassy tone.

"It's not. I just, I don't know. I don't know if I'm ready for another relationship, so I don't know if I'll see him again."

"Oh, shut up." Este says, rolling her eyes at her friend. "He's amazing. Seriously, he looks at you like you're the only girl in the world. Don't push him away because you're scared. Brady was a jerk, Drew's not like that."

"Okay but how do you know?"

"Uh, I don't know, maybe because I've worked with him for two years now?"

"No, you haven't, you've worked with Madelyn and Madison for two years. He was just occasionally around."

"Exactly, if there was any red flags about him they would have told me. I know all the tea, trust." Este insists, scrolling away on her phone looking for all the pictures of Drew and Mason from the premiere. "For example, okay, Rudy and Elaine? They're like, totally on the outs. They don't even know it yet but the rest of us can all tell. She's not great to him. Also I knew about Chase and Madelyn's break up before he did, okay? You always trust the makeup artist! I know everything, but with Drew? There's never been anything. No drama, no one has had a bad thing to say about him ever. Also, Ellen, I just sent the pictures to you."

"See! Honey, just give him a chance." Catherine agrees and Mason sighs. "Oh! Oh gosh, these are so precious! He's very handsome, Mason."

"Ugh, mom!" Mason groans, throwing her head back against the couch cushions.

"I'm not giving you a choice. You need to keep seeing him, it'll be good for you. Just one more date if he asks, then you can do whatever you want. Just give him a shot." She says seriously, pleading with her daughter at this point to at least try.

"I'm glad you say that because he did already ask!" Este tells her. "Mason just hasn't called him back yet."

"Of course he did! You're amazing! You're beautiful, you're so kind, I can't imagine that he wouldn't want to spend more time with you, Honey."

Mason sighs, cheeks totally red and she nods. "Okay, fine, mom. You've convinced me. I'll call him back."

Six Months Later

Drew's bouncing his knee rapidly as Mason drives them down the quiet block, on their way to her parents home in a small town in Washington. "Nervous?" She asks him with a giggle, looking over as he stares out the window.

"No, what makes you say that?" Drew replies, quickly ceasing the movements of his leg.

"Just a hunch." Mason shrugs. "But if you were nervous, I'd say 'Don't worry, they'll adore you'." She assures him, turning onto her block.

"This is it!" She smiles, and he tenses up as she slows down, pretending to pull over.

"Shit, okay, I'm scared." He admits, making her laugh.

"I'm kidding. That wasn't even the house." Mason giggles, pulling out onto the road again.

"Screw you." Drew laughs, shaking his head. "That's not funny, by the way."

"Okay, okay. Sorry. This actually is it though." She says, taking a right turn into the driveway.

"Oh god." Drew groans, leaning his head back and closing his eyes, taking a deep breath. He doesn't even know why he's so nervous, he just wants to make a good impression, but Mason has told him time and time again that they already have a good impression of him based on everything she's told them.

"Watch this. We have about five... four... three..." As Mason counts down, unbuckling her seatbelt and watching the front door of the small ranch home, which suddenly flies open and her mom comes running out, straight up to the car. "Yep, told you." She grins over at Drew, opening her door and stepping out.

"Mason! Oh, I missed you so much!" Catherine smiles, pulling her into a tight hug and kissing her cheek.

"I missed you too..." She smiles, hugging her back and looking over to her dad who is standing against the door frame with a smile on his face. He gives her a quick wave which she returns behind her moms back, before her mom is letting her go.

"Oh, you're Drew! Hi, dear! It's so good to finally meet you!" She's quickly at his side of the car, giving him a hug as well. Him and Mason share a look over her head, and Mason gives him two thumbs up as he chuckles awkwardly and hugs her mom back.

"It's nice to meet you, Catherine." He agrees as she lets him go.

"Oh please, call me Cath. Or Mom. Whichever suits you more." She waves him off, smiling up at him. "Geez, Este wasn't kidding, you are more handsome in person. And tall. My goodness."

"Oh my god, mom!" Mason laughs, blushing furiously as her dad makes his way down the stairs.

"What? I just want him to be comfortable!" Catherine defends, patting Drew on the arm and walking around to the back of the car.

"And you think saying that will help?" Mason giggles, quickly walking up to her dad and hugging him as well.

"Well, I don't know I'm just being nice." Catherine insists, opening the trunk to get their suitcases out.

"I've got it! We're good." Drew insists, cheeks still flushed as he joins her, grabbing them out for her.

"I should probably help him, hey?" Miles whispered to his daughter with a smile and she nods as he nudges her shoulder.

"Yes please, dad." She whispers back, laughing quietly as he walks away, and Mason returns to the car to grab her purse out.

"Here, let me help." Miles says, grabbing his daughters pink suitcase off the ground. "Mason doesn't travel light, hey?"

"No she does not." Drew chuckles, shaking his head.

"Something wrong with that?" Her dad asks, serious now as he raises an eyebrow at Drew.

"Oh- no! Definitely not, sir. Gotta be prepared, you know?" Drew says, the blood draining from his face as he tries to salvage the situation.

"Dad!" Mason scolds him, and he instantly breaks character, laughing at the boys response.

"I'm kidding, don't worry." He laughs, patting his shoulder. "I'm Miles, by the way."

Drew laughs awkwardly, clearly getting minor whiplash from the situation. "Nice to meet you, I'm Drew." He says, repeatedly glancing up at his girlfriend.

"Let's get everything inside before it rains, yeah? We don't have all that beautiful sunny weather that you guys are used to in North Carolina and LA." Catherine says, taking a bag from Drew before he can protest and making her way back inside.

By the time everyone else makes it inside, Catherine is already on facetime with Este, who's back in LA. Mason doesn't know who was more likely to call each other out of the two of them. "Gosh, honey, you were right about him he is lovely!" Catherine says, turning as she hears the door shut. "Oh, here they are! Want to say hi?"

"You know I do!" Este grins, still laughing about how quickly Catherine called her to talk about Drew once they arrived. "Hey guys! How was the flight?" She asks as Catherine passes the phone off to Mason.

"It was good. Not too long." Drew shrugs.

"Yeah. I miss you, though." Mason adds, pouting at her friend.

"Well why didn't she come?" Her mom cuts in before Este can reply.

"Work, unfortunately." She sighs dramatically. "But I'm free next week, if you'll still want some more company."

"Yes, of course! Come up here any time, honey."

"You heard her." Mason agrees, smiling at her friend.

"Alright I'll see you on Tuesday, then." Este giggles.

Mason passes the phone back to her mom as she says she's looking forward to it, grabbing her backpack to bring to her room.

"I guess I should give you the tour." Mason says to her boyfriend, pausing and looking around the open living room and kitchen space. "Alright that's about it. My room is down here, same with the bathroom, and my parents room." She says, making Drew laugh as she heads toward the small hallway, Drew following close after.

"It's such a cute house." He muses, looking around at the array of artwork on the walls.

"You can say it's small, Babes. It's fine." She giggles quietly as they step into her room, throwing her stuff on her bed under the window.

"No, I meant like, the decor and stuff. It's very cute." Drew insists, smiling at her and then looking around her room, which clearly hasn't been changed since she moved out a few years ago, to live with Este in LA.

"Oh, well, my mom will love the review so please tell her." Mason smiles, sitting down on her bed and laying back dramatically.

"I don't know what I expected your room to look like, but it was almost exactly like this." He chuckles, standing in the door frame and taking note of all the posters on the walls, mainly Taylor Swift, One Direction, some of her favourites. "Have you met any of them yet?"

"I met Taylor once." Mason says, sitting back up and smiling at her big 'Lover' poster. "She was really sweet, she said she wants to do a song together sometime, maybe grab lunch. I have her number. I feel like she just pitied me, though."

"No way, she knows talent when she sees it. Clearly." Drew smiles, pacing into the room and sitting next to her.

"Leave the door open!" Miles calls after them from the living room.

"Dad!" Mason huffs as her cheeks turn red and she stands up, walking to the door and looking down the hall at him. "I'm not sixteen anymore, I'll shut the door if I want!" She laughs, then pretending to dramatically slam it before she stops it and closes it gently.

"Who'd you bring in here when you were sixteen?" Drew laughs quietly, cheeks turning slightly red as well.

"Guess." Mason laughs, sighing and rolling her eyes as she joined him on the bed again.

"I've got a pretty good idea." Drew admits, looking around again and this time noticing all the music awards on one wall next to the closet, smiling a little to himself. "Brady still lives here, doesn't he?"

"Yep. Him and his new 'girlfriend'." Mason says, using a mocking tone to refer to her. "Well, not new anymore I guess. It's been over a year."

"He's an idiot, if she was smart she would have left him by now." Drew chuckles. "I'm lucky he's so stupid, honestly."

"Me too. I wouldn't have found out otherwise." Mason chuckles. "God, it's so embarrassing." She groans and covers her face with her hands. Drew laughs a little with her, reaching out and running his fingers through her hair. She shouldn't be embarrassed. It's funny to laugh about a year down the line, but it's hard to think about what she went through- when the world was watching. He wants to make sure she never goes through anything like that ever again.

"Mason! Honey, mind helping me with dinner?" Her mom calls from the living room and she sighs, sitting up.

"Coming!"

taglist:@veescorneroftheworld, @totalswag, @madelynie, @cecesrings, @slut4drudy, @mutual-mendes, @winterrrnight, @sadfury, @h34rtsformilli, @maybankslover, @ffgcfff (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[wild-adventures]

Storybook Island

Rapid City, South Dakota

Shawna Loree

Who has grown up without reading Dr. Seuss books, or at least Cat In The Hat? At Storybook Island in South Dakota, every child gets that opportunity. How? You might ask... Well... I will tell you. You wander down paths, past dragons and through ice cream cones... You hitch a ride on Noah’s ark and travel the yellow brick road. Eventually you find your journey winding past a little red house with a cat sitting on a bench.

Now this cat is no ordinary cat. This cat, well... he wears a hat. “My Lord, he wears a hat?” you gasp – Yes.. He wears a hat!

And this house.. It’s no ordinary house. “How is it different?” You ask… Indeed.. This house has writing on the walls. –le gasp-

Take a breath my friend. It has pictures too.

“Is it an Egyptian pyramid?” I do hear they held their cats in high esteem back then- maybe they wore hats and there was always writing and pictures on the walls – Well… I have to say… no; But this is better..

Why?

Because this house was built for children… This house is in bright cartoon colors. This house draws you in with walls painted with the pages of the very famous Dr. Seuss book “The Cat In The Hat”.

Ooooo… ahhhhh…

I know! I ooo’d and awe’d too!

The book is a famous staple in almost every child’s book shelf or now a-days their tablet… Although to me nothing beats the feel of the book in your hands. Let’s face it, the child reader of tomorrow will more than likely be reading from some sort of touch screen device.  Sad, but true.

Ahhh... but at Storybook Island, they get to stand and read and point and touch and ask you to read it again and again while they climb all over the Cat In The Hat. Here they see the photos up close and personal, and when they get home they want to hold that book in their hands and look at the pictures and read the words over and over again.

What a wonderful way to bring books to life for children; To open their minds to the concept of reading.  Dr. Seuss. The master rhymer. The ‘maker upper’ of words who showed us it is fun to create nonsense words and rhyme them with more nonsense words; To foster the love of reading early on…

You may never make it to Storybook Island, it’s kind of out of the way for 49 ½  states in the U.S. – but you can read a book with lots of colors and fun words to a child. I whole heartedly recommend The Cat In The Hat, Red Light Green Light, One Fish- Two Fish- Red Fish -Blue Fish and every other book in the Dr. Seuss catalogue. Who knows, maybe you will recapture a memory you had forgotten or maybe you will make a new one that years from now your child will look back on and smile reciting “I do not like green eggs and ham, I do not like them Sam I am.” (And yes I know that is not from Cat In The Hat- It is from Green Eggs and Ham).

[nighttimemachinery]

Just Roommates

Jordan Parrish/Scott McCall Rating: T, Word Count: 2,213 Roommates, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Post-Canon 5 times people assume Scott and Parrish are dating and 1 time they finally are. Read on AO3.

1. Stiles

Scott arrives at the San Francisco International Airport in the middle of a particularly rough onslaught of rain. He’s thankful for the covering that hangs over the arrival gate where he’s waiting to be picked up. He hears the clanking of the rickety old jeep before he even sees it. When Stiles rounds the bend and pulls up to the curb, Scott greets him with a wide smile. Stiles hops out of the car and engulfs his best friend in a giant hug.

Apparently, the people who work airport security have no patience for physical affection or brotherly reunions. A man in a reflective yellow jacket walks past them and notifies the two men that they only have a minute to pull out before they’re ticketed and fined. With a glare, Stiles makes his way to the back of the jeep to open up the trunk. Scott throws his bags in and the two scramble into the car - heading out on the two hour drive to Beacon Hills.

“Man,” Stiles starts with a grin to match Scott’s own. “I can’t believe you’re home. And like… a grown up. With a doctorate.”

Scott blushes and scratches bashfully at the back of his neck. “Yeah, I’m excited to be home, too. Looking forward to getting settled in and seeing everyone again.”

“Settled in with Parrish, right?” Stiles wiggles his eyebrows suggestively. “You two sure are moving fast.”

“Huh?” Scott’s eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Well, I know you guys have been hanging out or whatever, but living together is pretty serious. That’s like… a big step on the grand staircase of relationships.”

Scott shakes his head, “Dude, we’re not like together or anything… We just got to talking when I visited for Christmas. He was saying his rent was a little high. And there’s not really a place for me to move in with my mom and your dad. We’re just a couple of friends who both needed a roommate.”

Stiles looks skeptical but leaves it at that. They move on and talk for the rest of the car ride just like they had never spent any time apart.

---

2. Valerie

Scott and Parrish find a rhythm and quickly learn to live with each other. Parrish works either very early or very late hours at the station. Scott, who is now a partner at Deaton’s veterinary clinic, works regular hours Monday through Friday - only going in on the weekends for emergencies.

When Parrish works the night shift, Scott will usually swing by the station with dinner after he’s done at the clinic. One night, Scott arrives with egg rolls and lo mein from Parrish’s favorite Chinese restaurant.

“Oh my gosh, you’re the best! I love you!” Parrish exclaims as he rips open the bag. Scott smiles bashfully at Parrish’s very vocal appreciation, his eyes crinkling around the edges.

Deputy Clark sits one desk over as she sighs loudly and wistfully. Scott and Parrish turn to look at her.

“Wha-” Parrish asks with a mouth full of egg roll.

“Oh, nothing.” She hums, “I just wish I had a boyfriend who would bring me dinner at work.”

Parrish shakes his head, “Scott’s not my boyfriend, he’s just my roommate. A very considerate roommate, but that’s all. And Valerie, you’re a catch. I’m sure there are plenty of guys who are dying to be with you…”

Scott tunes out the conversation and Parrish misses the sad smile that graces the younger man’s face.

---

3. Melissa

Scott washes the dishes in the kitchen sink of his childhood home when Melissa comes up to him and kisses him on the side of his forehead. When he was younger he would have shrugged her off and wiped the nonexistent slobber from his forehead, but at 26 years old he doesn’t mind the show of motherly affection.

Scott’s mom takes a rag and starts drying dishes. They stand side by side in a companionable silence, washing dishes while Parrish takes a phone call from the station in the living room.

Melissa sets down the dish in her hands and turns to Scott. “I’m glad you felt comfortable bringing your boyfriend over for dinner. I know we’ve never had, you know, the talk. But -”

“Mom, please,” he implores, quieting her before Parrish could walk in and overhear.

“What?” Melissa crosses her arms and raises an eyebrow. “I’m just happy for you, that’s all.”

“There’s nothing to be happy about, though. Literally nothing happening here at all,” Scott whispers back at her.

She opens her mouth to respond, but at that moment Parrish walks into the kitchen. “Thank you so much for dinner, Mrs. Mccall. It was amazing. I’m sorry I have to do this, but apparently there’s a massive pileup on the highway and it’s all hands on deck. I have to go into work.”

“Oh, that’s alright.” Melissa smiles understandingly, “I have worked a few emergencies myself. I’m just glad you came.”

Melissa pulls Parrish in for a hug. Surprised, Parrish doesn’t quite know what to do with his arms. He awkwardly pats her on the back.

When he pulls away he turns to Scott, “Are you gonna be alright to get home? I feel bad, we should have taken separate cars.”

Scott shakes his head, “Don’t worry about it - we live about 5 blocks away. And I’m a pretty fast runner.”

Parrish grins at the younger man and bumps shoulders with him. “See you at home,” he says quietly.

Melissa watches the exchange, amused by how absolutely wrong her son could be.

---

4. Allison

Beep. Boop. Boop. Beep.

The noise comes from Scott’s laptop - from Skype, to be specific. Scott’s face splits into a grin when he sees that the call coming in is from Allison.

Scott minimizes the window he has open and accepts Allison’s call.

“Hey, Allison!” He cheerfully greets the brunette when she appears on the screen.

“Scott! I wasn’t sure you’d be up – it’s still early in Beacon Hills now, right?”

“Yeah, I like to get a jump start on the day – have some quiet time before I have to go into the office.”

Allison starts to apologize for interrupting, but he stops her. “I’m always happy to see you, though! What’s up? How’s France?”

“C’est magnifique!” she exclaims with a giggle. “Malia’s not picking up French at all, but I think she’s enjoying it. She’s enjoying me, at least.” Allison wiggles her eyebrows suggestively.

Scott blushes and covers his face. Thankfully, he’s saved from having to respond when Parrish comes out into their shared living room, frantically looking for something.

“You looking for your keys?” Scott asks.

“Yes, have you seen them?”

“You always leave them on the kitchen counter by the cereal. Go check there.”

Parrish does a little jog over to the kitchen and shakes his keys signifying that he found them. “You’re a lifesaver! I have my keys, wallet, and… sunglasses? Where are my sunglasses?”

Scott barks out a laugh and points at Jordan, “They’re on top of your head.”

Jordan shakes his head. “Of course.” He walks over and gives Scott’s shoulder a squeeze, “Thanks, Scott. See you tonight.”

Scott reaches up and briefly touches Jordan’s fingers with his own. “See you then.”

Parrish runs out, the door falling closed behind him. Scott’s eyes linger on the door a beat too long before turning his attention back to Allison on his screen.

“Oh, sorry, Allison! What were we talking about?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just my love life, but maybe we should be talking about yours.” She suggests along with her signature eyebrow raise.

“What love life? I’m too busy with work and friends for any of that right now.”

“Friends like Parrish?”

Scott looks down, bashful. “Yes, friends. Just friends.”

“You just seem so… domestic, though. And that smile says otherwise! You couldn’t wipe that grin off your face the whole time he was in the room. I know that head over heels Scott McCall grin!”

“Maybe, but it doesn’t matter. We’re roommates and we have a good thing going on here. I don’t want to jeopardize that.”

“Scott, his hand was on your shoulder. For a while. Trust me, your feelings are not one-sided.”

“Please, Allison? Just don’t – we’re just gonna be roommates and that’s all.” Scott says with a tone of finality. “Now, tell me what you guys have been up to in France. Nothing graphic, please!”

She laughs and complies with Scott’s request to move the conversation along, but she refuses to believe that Scott’s feelings aren’t reciprocated by Parrish. She’d heard from Stiles how unbearably in love and oblivious they were, but seeing it herself – even on the small laptop screen through Skype – she knew for sure. It was only a matter of time before they figured it out.

---

5. Sheriff

It’s Thanksgiving and the pack has gathered at the recently restored Hale house to celebrate. Scott wanders and takes in the view of his pack - his family - all enjoying a moment of peace together. Jackson, Kira, Isaac, and Boyd play pickup lacrosse in the yard while Derek serves as referee. Danny, Lydia, and Allison drink wine on the front porch and catch up. Stiles and Melissa work together to put the finishing touches on the meal in the kitchen.

Scott stops short of the den when he overhears Jordan talking to the Sheriff. The two men had been half-watching the game (neither of their teams were playing) and chatting.

The Sheriff starts, “You know, Parrish, I’ve always thought of Scott as a son. And I’ve grown to think of you the same way over the past few years. I’m really glad the two of you have found each other.”

“Sheriff, sir -” Parrish tries.

“It’s Noah. Please, we’re not in the office.” The Sheriff interrupts.

“Noah, look. I think Scott’s a great friend and roommate. But that’s all we are. We’re not dating or anything.”

Scott lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and tunes out the rest of their conversation. He leans against the wall, taking a second to compose himself. But with a house this full, that second was all he got.

Malia walks up and knocks Scott’s shoulder with her own. “You smell sad. It’s a weird smell on you.”

Scott paints a smile back on his face. “Nah, I’m good.” He throws an arm over Malia’s shoulders and steers her towards the kitchen. “Let’s go sneak some turkey off the plate. It drives Stiles and my mom crazy, it’s a timeless Thanksgiving tradition!”

---

+1

The following Saturday, Jordan has the day off, so he and Scott are home at the same time. Scott knocks on his bedroom door. Jordan looks up from the book he’s reading and smiles.

“Hey, Scott!”

“Hey, Jordan.” Scott begins, unusually somber. “Can we talk?”

Jordan sits up more in his bed. “Sure, man. What’s up?”

Scott takes a couple steps into the room and sits on the edge of the bed - as far away from Jordan as physically possible while still being on the same bed.

“I’ve been thinking it over and I think I need to move out.” Scott manages to get out, never looking Jordan in the eyes.

Shocked, Jordan opens and closes his mouth. Not sure what to say, at first. “I mean, I guess if you feel like you need to. But why?”

Scott runs his hands over his face, “Don’t make me say it, Jordan.”

“Say what?”

“You have to know how I feel about you. It’s getting embarrassing, dude.”

“How you feel about me?” Jordan repeats back at him.

“I bring you dinner at the station almost every night. I spend all of my time with you when we’re not working. I regularly bring you over to my mom’s house for dinner. I feel like it should be pretty clear.”

“You have feelings for me?”

“Yes, Jordan! I’m stupidly in love with you and I know you don’t feel the same way because you keep laughing and telling people we’re not together. If you’re not into me, that’s fine, but it’s just getting to be too much for me. That’s why I need to move out.”

Jordan sits with his mouth agape for a few moments before launching forward and kissing Scott square on the lips.

“Don’t move out,” is all Jordan says before bringing his lips back to Scott’s.

Scott is still for several moments, surprised by the kiss. Finally, he kisses back and Jordan can feel the younger man’s lips turn up in a smile against his.

Scott pulls back, a goofy smile on his face, and says, “Why haven’t we been doing this for months?”

Jordan shakes his head. “I thought I was the one with the one-sided feelings. I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want to ruin our living situation or make you uncomfortable.”

“Me, too. We’re so dumb.”

“So dumb!” Parrish says with a chuckle. “I promise I’ll tell you all the time about my feelings for you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He punctuates every sentence with a kiss along Scott’s jaw. “How much I like you.” Kiss. “How cute you are.” Kiss. “How hot you are.” Kiss.

“Sounds good to me.”

“How does a date sound to you? Tonight?”

“Perfect.”

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

something with roger being a single daddy and the reader is a baby sitter 🤩

Just A Babysitter

Pairing: Late 80s!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Cursing, sexual innuendos, age gap (20s and 40s), smut, subtle dominance + submission, oral f!receiving. Please let me know if there are any more I should add!

Wordcount: 2.7k

My Masterlist!

Enjoy!

As you’ve grown from a young woman to an adult, and changed employment, you had strictly forbidden romantic relationships in the workplace. It was unprofessional and made things complicated. It was difficult to keep that rule when your employer was the dreamiest man you’ve ever seen. It also didn’t help that you babysat his children for a living. The kids were an absolute delight and brightened up when you arrived every morning to take care of them. You always looked forward to seeing them, but on the other hand, there was their father. Their father was a big-shot rockstar, Roger Taylor. The Roger Taylor. Your heart fluttered every time you saw him, and your face brightened whenever he gave you a heartfelt thank you for watching over his children. He made it so difficult to keep your personal vow.

You arrived at the house just like any other day, bright and early in the morning as usual to help the kids get ready for their day. Roger was there, of course, but was expected to leave shortly after to attend to some Queen business. “Kids! Y/N is here!” you hear Rogers' voice call out as you enter the home, and see a little boy run up to you, with tired eyes and messy brown hair. “Good morning, Felix,” you smile as you comb your fingers through his hair. “Hi, Y/N,” he says as he gives you a hug around the hips. 

“Where’s your little sister?” you ask. “With Papa,” he replies as he brings you to the kitchen where Roger is holding baby Rory, who isn't exactly a baby anymore as her 2nd birthday has just passed. “Good morning, Sir,” you smile as you offer to take Rory out of his arms. Roger laughs. “Please, Y/N. I’ve told you a million times. Roger is just fine,” he says. You swallow slowly before giving him a nod. “Right, Roger. Sorry,” you say and laugh. 

With Rory now in your arms, Roger was free to go get ready for his conference. Usually, he would have Dominique watch the kids, but with the divorce being recently finalized, you were needed more frequently. That was another factor that made it so difficult to keep romance out of the workplace. He was single and looking because you'd watch him get ready out of the corner of your eye and could smell the expensive cologne on him as he left. Even if he was single, it was completely out of the question to have a relationship with him. It wouldn't be right to the kids to have their nanny dating their dad.

As you finish fixing breakfast for the kids, Roger returns to the kitchen to give each kid a hug and a kiss. “Papa will be back very soon, okay?” he tells them in a reassuring tone. He turns to you, his instincts telling you to treat you the same as the kids, but then he remembers youre not his wife, and just the nanny. 

“Good luck at the, uh-”

“Conference,”

“Yes. Good luck at the conference,” and with that, Roger slips on his sports jacket and leave the house. 

“Why were you so weird with Papa?” Felix innocently asks. You laugh. “Its nothing. Now, come on. Eat your eggs.” But you knew it wasn't just nothing. You knew the way your heart skipped a beat wasn't nothing, and you knew the way Roger looked at you with those piercing blue eyes wasn't just nothing.

Hours later you prepared the kids for bed, and once they were both tucked in you gave them a kiss on the head and left their room, obviously leaving the door open a crack in case one of them had another nightmare like usual. 

You sat down on the large sectional sofa, and hours go by as you aimlessly watch television while you await their father's return. The window of time the children usually have their nightmares had passed, and you were glad they will be sleeping soundly tonight.

You hear the front door unlock and click open. That’s your queue to grab your purse and get up to leave. “The kids are in bed,” you say as you round the corner to meet Roger there. “Great, thank you, love,” he says, then his cheeks go red at the realization of what he said. Your face goes equally as flushed as his. Roger Taylor just called you ‘love’. “I mean- uh. Thanks, Y/N,” he says in an attempt to correct himself, but we both knew what he said and neither of us would forget any time soon.

“You're welcome,” you say humbly. “I- um. I’ll be going now,” you say, but Roger stays in front of the door, guarding it. “Why don't you stay for a bit? You know, have a drink,” he suggests. “Bet you deserve one after having to deal with those hell-raisers all day,” he laughs, and you laugh with him. It's one thing to have a little crush on your boss, but to have drinks with him? That was a completely different story. “Sure, why not,” you agree nonetheless. 

You head to the kitchen and take a seat at the breakfast bar while Roger fixes you both a glass of wine. “I prefer not to keep any hard liquor in the house,” he explains. “Not good for you,” he chuckles. You watch as he pours two small glasses of wine. “Also not a good impression on the kids. I’m getting too old of Southern Comfort, anyways.” You laugh. “Youre not old!” you insist, and Roger scoffs. “I’m turning forty this summer.” Maybe he was kinda old.

You hold in a laugh but fail, and his face goes red. “So, uh- how was that conference?” You ask as you take a small and slow sip of the wine. Yum. It must be expensive. “Boring. They kept asking about my personal life when really what I’d like to talk about is the music,” he explains before sipping his portion of the wine, and you could tell that he wished it was a bottle of vodka. You couldn't help but notice how his hand wrapped around the dainty wine glass, and how his free hand felt the smooth texture of the countertop, wishing that the hand was touching you instead.

You nod and respond in an understanding way. “But that’s done with for now. I’ve gotten used to it, anyway,” he explains. He perks up as he changes the subject. “How were the kids? Well behaved, I hope,” he asks. You smile at the thought of the kids. You considered them your own at times. “They're great. You’ve raised them well,” you say, and he smiles. “Well, with help from you, of course. I’d be stranded without your help,” he chuckles, but you can tell he means it sincerely. “I like seeing you with the kids,” he says sheepishly. “You know, like as a mother figure,” you smile at his words. “Not that youre old enough to be their mother, or that I want you to be their mom. Not that you being their mom would be a bad thing-”

You watch as his hand trembles. “Roger,” you say as you grab his hand over the counter. “Calm down.” He laughs. “Sorry,” he chuckles until he notices your hand. It was soft and warm. He holds it, almost like it was his natural instinct to. 

“Your nails…” he whispers as he admires the dark red polish. “They’re nice. Your colour,” he says, and you blush. The calm yet slightly flushed appearance you had was nothing close to how you felt. You were about to burst at the seams. Even for his age, nearing his mid-forties, Roger was handsome as ever and knew just how to make a woman fold.

He notices how you don't retract your hand. He waltzes around the counter, meeting you on the other side. “You know,” he says, taking a sip of his wine slowly. “Seeing you every day, I can’t help but notice the way you look at me,” you swallow thickly, your hand now trembling in his as he slowly wraps his free hand around your waist. “The desire, the thirst,” his hand trails up and down your side, and you shiver with each touch. “The itch you’re begging to be scratched. An emptiness only I can fill.”

You wanted to scoff and claim that it was completely false, but the problem was that he was entirely correct. You can feel his breath on your lips, the smell of wine seeping into your nose mixed with the expensive cologne he always wore. You were speechless. Completely and utterly speechless. A man has never rendered you this helpless before. 

“Roger… I-” 

“What is it, love?” That fucking pet name again.

“I need you.” You finally said it. You said what you have been wishing to scream for what felt like a lifetime. You needed him in every aspect. And finally, he kissed you. The Roger Taylor kissed you. If the press found out he had the hots for a girl barely in her 30s, they would go on a rampage. 

Roger's strong hands come to your head, gently cradling your head as he kisses you passionately, like somebody reuniting with their lover after years of no contact. His tongue explores your mouth. You were shy, but his eagerness broke your shell, and you can’t keep your hands off him. Your hands run down his chest, his button-up shirt still keeping his body concealed. Oh, how bad you wanted to rip it off.

Your hands move further down, gripping his waistband before palming him. The drummer bites his lip as he parts from your lips, kissing down your neck as he searched for your sensitive spot. “Somebody’s needy,” he grins. You whine at his teasing. “Shut up,” you mutter. “Is that any way to talk to your boss?” You froze. “I’m kidding,” Roger smiles as he kisses you again. He grabs your hips, picks you up and places you on the counter. “How’d you feel if I took you right here, right on the counter?” he hums quietly into your neck. You hold back a moan from his words. “Gonna be a good girl for me?” he whispers, and you nod. “Gonna be so good,” he smiles, giving you another kiss on the lips.

“What about the kids? What if they hear- or- or what if they come down?” you worry, but Roger puts those worries at ease. “You’re just gonna have to be quiet, then.”

You begin unbuttoning his shirt, finally allowing you to see his chest. He wasn't fit, but he wasn't overweight, either. A perfect blend of the two. You attach your lips to his collarbone, sucking a hot welt onto his skin. He groans at the suctioning sensation and he couldn't help but imagine how’d that feel on his cock.

Roger begins to remove your top. He watches in awe as your breasts become exposed. He reached up, gently grasping them, kneading the soft flesh in his palms. “Fuck me…” he whispered, not giving a damn if you heard. In a similar fashion as you did, he begins kissing your breasts, then sucking multiple hickeys on your chest. He marked you. You were officially his. 

“Baby…” you beg as you reach down to undo his belt. “I need you.” That wasn't a beg. You were demanding. You needed him, and you were going to get him. You could already see his erection pleading for attention through his pants. You let it free, watching as it springs out as his pants and underwear pool at his ankles. 

You bite your lip at the sight of his reddened cock. “Let me suck it, please,” you hum as you begin stroking him gently, and a whimper comes from him. Roger shakes his head. “No, not right now. After, maybe. I’m not gonna last long,” he huffs. The thought of Roger coming quickly because of you made you need him even more. 

“Want you so bad, baby,” he whispers. You smirk. “If you want me so bad, then fuck me.” He wastes no more time to get your pants off. He removes your panties, grinning at the wet fabric. “So wet for me,” he hums, running his fingers through your slick. “Wanna taste you so bad…” he says as he collects your wetness on his fingers and licks it off. “So good,” he hums.

Roger pulls you closer to the edge of the counter, kneeling down as he buries his head between your legs. You moan as he eats you like a starved animal. “Roger- I… fuck,” you try your best to shut up, but the pleasure was far too much to handle. Your moans were like music sent from the heavens and transcribed by God himself. “Roger. Baby, stop,” you plead. He looks up at your with his worry-filled blue eyes. “What?”

You can't help but smile at his innocent look. You comb your fingers through his blonde hair. “I’m not gonna last too long, either,” you say. “I’ll let you eat me out all you want after I’ve had you inside me.” The word inside made Roger shiver. He agrees, picking himself up from the kitchen floor as he aligns his tip with your pulsing entrance. “Ready?” he asks as if it were your first time. You nod, and he begins pushing inside you. You let out a moan, quickly covering your mouth with your palm as he enters you, inch by inch filling you up entirely. Fuck, he was big. You whine into your hand as he stretches you out. 

“Youre so tight for me, baby girl. Fuck. Feels so good,” he whispers. He gives you a moment to adjust to his size before he begins thrusting. You involuntarily rolled your hips against him, letting out muffled moans into your palm, but your grip was weak. The pleasure was rolling through your body, and you struggled to keep a firm grip on your mouth.

Roger replaces your hand with his, his larger palm doing the job way better. “Fuck. Wish I could hear you loud and clear. Wish I could hear you moan my name,” you wished the same thing. You wanted to moan in his ear and feel as his length twitch inside you.

He pistoned in and out of you, quickly becoming a groaning mess. It was obvious that Roger hadn't had sex in a while. He whimpered in your neck, hot and heavy breath hitting your skin as he became close already. “M’ gonna come, baby. Fuck. Gonna come,” he groaned. He moved his free hand between your bodies, quickly circling your clit like his life depended on it.

“Where do you want it, love?” Roger asks as he removes his palm from your mouth. A strained moan comes out, you attempt to swallow down any others to stay quiet. “In- inside,” you beg. “Come in me. I need you to fill me up.” You had never sounded so helpless before.

Roger's hand moved faster and faster. “Come for me first, baby. Come on my cock,” he whispers. “Be a good girl for me.” He didn't cover your mouth again, welcoming your moans. You took the risk, even if the kids might be able to hear you.

Your hips jerked as the pleasure became too much and the overstimulation began to rise just as your moans became louder and high pitched. Your moans were just enough to push Roger over the edge, but he held off just long enough to make you finish. Your walls tensed around him, your body became stiff as your orgasm washes over you, and your eyes roll back into your head.

Roger finally allowed himself to come, his seed quickly fills you up just as you wanted. “Just like that, babygirl. Fuck. So good for me,” he whispers, talking you through your orgasm as both of your pleasures slowly subsided. 

You've never experienced anything like that. Sure, you've come before and had sex obviously, but nothing that intense. Nobody had made you like that before. “You were… amazing,” you manage to get out once you took back control of your breath.

Roger smirks.  “God… me? No, love. You were absolutely fantastic.” No wonder women couldn't get enough of him, but now, he was the one who couldn't get enough of you.

[havenmoon1369]

Not Again (Sequel to Getting Her Back)

- Chapter 6

November 4th

Quinn slowly started waking up, she could hear noises that sounded like pots and pans being hit, and a TV on low volume playing cartoons. Once she was fully awake she jolted up realizing she wasn't at home, she was in an unfamiliar place. Heath saw her sit up "Hey hey hey kiddo! It's okay you're safe!" Quinn looked around the voice who said that and saw Heath in the kitchen, "Heath? Is that you?" she asked, "You remember me! I knew you would, you're a smart kid" Heath said. "You look different, you got tattoos and your hair is shorter" she observed. "Well I needed a change, you've grown up a lot since I saw you last. What are you 12, 13?" he asked, "Yeah I turned 13 a few months ago, but Heath where am I, where's my dad?" she asked. "He asked me to bring you here, he said you were in danger, and trusted me to look after you while he tried to get the situation under control" Heath said, knowing he was lying to her. "Danger? No, no this can't be happening again, no I want to go home, I want to go home right now!" Quinn started yelling, feeling her anxiety starting. "Hey kiddo it's okay, let's take a deep breath, do you do grounding techniques for your anxiety at all?" Heath asked, "Yeah I learned it in therapy, but how did you know?" Quinn asked curiously, "Your dad told me you had pretty bad anxiety, so I know a few things that can help. I know you're scared but you're safe here okay? I'm gonna make you some breakfast and then we'll give your dad a call okay, do some grounding exercises, watch some cartoons, and take some deep breaths okay?" Heath said, trying to reassure Quinn. Heath went into the kitchen to make her some breakfast, he knew he had to confront Drew about calling the police but he couldn't do it around Quinn, and he had to make sure the police weren't listening in when they spoke. "Here you go kiddo, some eggs and pancakes, you eat that and keep watching TV, I've got to go outside and make a phone call then you can talk to your dad alright?" Quinn nodded as Heath walked outside to call Drew.

Drew was an emotional wreck, he hadn't slept at all, he was worried sick about Quinn. He was at home waiting for the first call to come in, Stephen and Erin were staying with him. Drew had come clean to them about what happened to them earlier in the year, both were shocked but agreed not to tell anyone, not even the police. Drew had also spoken to Hunter, he agreed to help as long as Drew lets the police help with the ransom pick up. Everything was in place, the waiting was the most difficult part. Drew's mind ran wild, what if Quinn's already hurt, what if he's already killed her and is just going to take the money and run, how could he have not seen this coming, why didn't he report the damn texts? Right as he thought he was going to have a breakdown his phone rang, it was the unknown number. "Heath let me talk to Quinn!" Drew demanded, "You've fucked up bro, you called the fucking police? This could have been quick and easy but now you've made it ten times worse!" Heath said angrily. "Someone else called the police, they saw you take Quinn, the police arrived not long after our conversation last night" Drew said trying to convince him, "Yeah bullshit dude, I'm not stupid, how do I know I'm not being recorded by the police right now?" Heath asked. "I didn't tell the police about the ransom Heath, they think it's just a simple revenge kidnapping okay? I have the money, tell me when and where you want to meet so I can get my kid back and we move on." Drew said, "No man, change of plans, you calling the cops I got to change the entire thing now, you're gonna have to wait" Heath said. "I'm not waiting Heath, I've got your money, I want my kid back NOW!" Drew screamed. "Screaming ain't gonna get her back any sooner Drew so shut the fuck up!" Heath yelled. "Okay here's the deal I'll let you talk to Quinn, but you do not mention the cops, the amber alert, the fact that police are looking for me, you don't ask about her location, and you stick the story that's she in danger and I'm just keeping her safe, got it? Heath said. "Do I have a choice?" Drew asked sarcastically, "No you don't, I'm gonna keep you on speaker and the first thing I hear that I don't like I'm ending the call, is that understood?" Heath demanded, "Understood" Drew said sternly. Heath went back inside, Quinn was finishing her breakfast while watching TV, "Hey kiddo turn the TV down, your dad is on the phone" Heath said to Quinn, Drew's heart pounded in his chest, just waiting to hear Quinn's voice. "Hey dad, what's going on, why am I having to stay with Heath?" Quinn asked her dad, Drew held back tears, he was happy to hear her voice and that she was okay. "Something's come up sweetheart, I needed you to get away from the situation so I could handle it without you being in danger, I promise once it's taken care of I'll tell you the whole story, but for now you listen to everything Heath says and don't go against him at all, okay? Drew said, Quinn was confused "But dad I don't even know where I am, he won't tell me" she said with a scared tone, "I know Quinn but it's for the best okay?" Drew hated telling her that. "Okay dad, how long will I be here?" she asked, "Hopefully not too long, me and Heath will stay in touch okay?" Drew said, trying to reassure her as best he could. "Okay y'all we got to cut this phone call short, I'll be in touch Drew, say bye to your dad Quinn" Heath said, "Bye dad, love you" she said as Heath ended the call before Drew could tell her he loved her.

Once the line went dead, Drew lost it. He broke down into tears, he was glad to hear her voice but he felt his world crashing down, he couldn't go through this again. Stephen and Erin tried to calm him but nothing worked, Drew eventually passed out from physical and mental exhaustion. 

[shannyh25]

Well, we’ve been thinking about it for some time—all winter in fact,” returned Marilla. “Mrs. Alexander Spencer was up here one day before Christmas and she said she was going to get a little girl from the asylum over in Hopeton in the spring. Her cousin lives there and Mrs. Spencer has visited here and knows all about it. So Matthew and I have talked it over off and on ever since. We thought we’d get a boy. Matthew is getting up in years, you know—he’s sixty—and he isn’t so spry as he once was. His heart troubles him a good deal. And you know how desperate hard it’s got to be to get hired help. There’s never anybody to be had but those stupid, half-grown little French boys; and as soon as you do get one broke into your ways and taught something he’s up and off to the lobster canneries or the States. At first Matthew suggested getting a Home boy. But I said ‘no’ flat to that. ‘They may be all right—I’m not saying they’re not—but no London street Arabs for me,’ I said. ‘Give me a native born at least. There’ll be a risk, no matter who we get. But I’ll feel easier in my mind and sleep sounder at nights if we get a born Canadian.’ So in the end we decided to ask Mrs. Spencer to pick us out one when she went over to get her little girl. We heard last week she was going, so we sent her word by Richard Spencer’s folks at Carmody to bring us a smart, likely boy of about ten or eleven. We decided that would be the best age—old enough to be of some use in doing chores right off and young enough to be trained up proper. We mean to give him a good home and schooling. We had a telegram from Mrs. Alexander Spencer today—the mail-man brought it from the station—saying they were coming on the five-thirty train tonight. So Matthew went to Bright River to meet him. Mrs. Spencer will drop him off there. Of course she goes on to White Sands station herself..Mrs. Rachel prided herself on always speaking her mind; she proceeded to speak it now, having adjusted her mental attitude to this amazing piece of news.“Well, Marilla, I’ll just tell you plain that I think you’re doing a mighty foolish thing—a risky thing, that’s what. You don’t know what you’re getting. You’re bringing a strange child into your house and home and you don’t know a single thing about him nor what his disposition is like nor what sort of parents he had nor how he’s likely to turn out. Why, it was only last week I read in the paper how a man and his wife up west of the Island took a boy out of an orphan asylum and he set fire to the house at night—set it ON PURPOSE, Marilla—and nearly burnt them to a crisp in their beds. And I know another case where an adopted boy used to suck the eggs—they couldn’t break him of it. If you had asked my advice in the matter—which you didn’t do, Marilla—I’d have said for mercy’s sake not to think of such a thing, that’s what.”

This Job’s comforting seemed neither to offend nor to alarm Marilla. She knitted steadily on.

“I don’t deny there’s something in what you say, Rachel. I’ve had some qualms myself. But Matthew was terrible set on it. I could see that, so I gave in. It’s so seldom Matthew sets his mind on anything that when he does I always feel it’s my duty to give in. And as for the risk, there’s risks in pretty near everything a body does in this world. There’s risks in people’s having children of their own if it comes to that—they don’t always turn out well. And then Nova Scotia is right close to the Island. It isn’t as if we were getting him from England or the States. He can’t be much different from ourselves.”

“Well, I hope it will turn out all right,” said Mrs. Rachel in a tone that plainly indicated her painful doubts. “Only don’t say I didn’t warn you if he burns Green Gables down or puts strychnine in the well—I heard of a case over in New Brunswick where an orphan asylum child did that and the whole family died in fearful agonies. Only, it was a girl in that instance.”

“Well, we’re not getting a girl,” said Marilla, as if poisoning wells were a purely feminine accomplishment and not to be dreaded in the case of a boy. “I’d never dream of taking a girl to bring up. I wonder at Mrs. Alexander Spencer for doing it. But there, SHE wouldn’t shrink from adopting a whole orphan asylum if she took it into her head.” Lucy Maud Montgomery quotes.

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[intothestacks]

@randybr3001

"Curating books in public libraries is not banning books"

My buddy, my pal. What... what do you think librarians do, exactly?

Just buy every book indiscriminately? Who's got the budget for that?

Curating collections and deciding what to buy is a huge part of our job description, my dude. And we buy based on the library's collection policies and the needs and interests of our community.

We have several classes that we are required to take on how to curate a collection in order to acquire a librarianship degree. We are educated professionals who know what we're doing.

You shouldn't get to decide what other grown people are allowed to read.

Just because YOU don't like a certain book doesn't mean no one else in your community will like it either. If a book has inappropriate material for children it won't be in the children's section, it'll be in the adult or YA section. Where it belongs.

"There's no reason for K-12 children to see explicit material in their library"

a) It's not up to you to decide what books someone else's kid can read.

Different parents have different rules about what's acceptable. For example, I have a few Grade 1s who are allowed to read Goosebumps, some Grade 3s who play Five Nights at Freddy's, Grade 4s who read Stephen King, and my mom explained to me where babies come from when I was 5 or 6 but banned me from reading Goosebumps when I was 7.

Meanwhile, a Grade 5 student of mine isn't allowed to read books with queer characters, romance books, or scary books of any kind because their parents think it's inappropriate. So you know what that Grade 5's parents did? They talked to their kid about not getting those books and asked me to let the student know if I know a book they're taking out has what their parents consider inappropriate.

Boom. Beautiful. Perfect. Problem solved. No book banning necessary.

b) No one's putting sexually explicit books in libraries/sections for young children.

No one's making picture books for kiddos with people 69ing each other or something, for Heaven's sake. And if they were, children's librarians wouldn't be buying them.

What people say is "sexually explicit material" when it comes to picture book sections are typically just books that have queer characters in them. Because simply existing as a queer person is supposedly sexual in nature. For example, a book that's often challenged is And Tango Makes Three, which is a sweet real life story about Central Park Zoo's gay penguins raising a rejected egg as their own. There is no mention of sex in any way, shape, or form. There isn't even mention of the word "gay". They just say that two boy penguins were in love and wanted to raise a chick like all other penguin couples do:

That's it.

They might put stuff on puberty in the nonfiction section for kids and teens, but once again, it's up to parents to talk to their kids about what they consider appropriate and to monitor what books kids bring home.

c) Studies show that kids must be taught at a young age how to recognize inappropriate behaviour by adults and what to do if they come across it in order to stay safe.

A kid who knows absolutely nothing on the topic isn't safe, they're vulnerable.

Books that deal with serious topics like sexual abuse are critical to teach kiddos how to stay safe. In one recent case, for example, a little girl recognized that what her dad had been doing to her was wrong and needed to stop by reading a book where a girl was molested by an adult. "That's what happens to me," she told her mom. And now the bastard's behind bars.

Of course, how you talk about it will be slightly different depending on whether you're talking to a Grade 1, a Grade 3, a Grade 6, or an older kiddo, but that's what library sections are for.

If you don't think your kid should read these books then don't let them read it. It's really that simple.

d) You really think high schoolers don't already know about sex?

High schoolers? Really?!

Many high schoolers are already having sex, so I'd rather they learn how to do it safely and consensually than to bungle it up and get hurt.

As a children's librarian, people who harass fans of Harry Potter indiscriminately really worry me.

Here's why.

1. The majority of Harry Potter fans are children.

I've had people call me disgusting and scum and an embarrassment to my disabled community. I've been suicide baited and have received death threats. All of this can be heavy enough stuff for an adult to deal with.

And then I think of how most of my 700+ elementary-aged students are huge Harry Potter fans. Because, you know, Harry Potter is a children's series. And they also have access to the internet and social media like TikTok and YouTube.

Now imagine the stuff that's been said to me being said to a kid. Because Harry Potter's main audience are KIDS.

2. This black-and-white mentality isn't healthy.

Very few things in life are cut-and-dry good vs bad. And if you employ this kind of thinking in one area of your life, odds are you'll apply it to other areas too(more on that in a moment).

And people who go out of their way to harass people who like Harry Potter don't seem to particularly care about any context beyond "If you like Harry Potter in any way whatsoever you're scum".

It hasn't mattered when I've pointed out that I absolutely and unequivocally think Rowling's TERF views are awful and scummy and wrong. It hasn't mattered that I try my best to consume the content only in ways that won't monetarily support her, (which kids typically can't do, btw). It hasn't mattered that it's literally in my job description to keep up with children's media to procure content for my patrons as well as to be able to hold conversations with them.

3. Saying "You're not allowed to read this without being harassed" is no different from saying a book should be banned.

This is ironic, seeing as the people doing the harassing are also often up in arms about queerphobic and racist book bans (as they should be) while demanding book bans of their own.

Because in their all-or-nothing way of thinking, book bans are only bad when the "bad" people do it.

No. Book bans are always bad, no exceptions.

Book bans aren't bad because they're banning the "good" books, they're bad because banning access to different ideas is always bad. Because every book has a lesson to teach us (perhaps not the lesson intended by the author, but a lesson nonetheless).