#parlor magazines

[cherries-jubilee-parlor]

Teehee. Not me making this blog a month ago and then totally abandoning it only to come back later with a small writing piece. Anyway, here's a snippet about me and A.manda.

Length: 1.4k

The Garden is as it ever was. Rustic dirt paths leading weaving through garden beds and hedges, small alcoves of statuary and fruit trees, arbors laden with heavy roses and other climbing flowers, and the house on the hill absolutely smothered with all sorts of greenery. The fake sun shines down with vague warmth, but Amanda finds herself sighing in relief regardless.

It was a good day, it seems. Or it’s been a stretch of okay days and the Entity is feeling merciful. It’s never a good idea to question why the Entity allows a visit to the Garden. One must simply bask in it while it lasts.

Amanda is especially eager to get deeper into the realm and to who she really wishes to see, but knows that there’s special protocol to follow. The Pig takes just one step onto one of the dirt paths and stops. Then, she stomps on the ground with force a few times.

Hopefully the other is in the system, as they’ve both come to call it. It seems like she is more often that not these days.

A twitch from the innards of some bush with pastel purple flowers. Slowly, a dark green vine twists its way out and into the air like a snake. It waves around idly, feeling for her as it creeps ever forward. Another joining it slithers along the ground towards her foot, finding purchase around Amanda’s ankle and coiling around it to hold her snug. The air-vine creeps ever towards her face, and she grants it the mercy of reaching for it.

The vine tip weaves through her fingers and holds it gently, wriggling around and trying to discern just who it belongs to. Amanda traces it softly with her other hand, causing it to still. Then, she taps. Tap, tap, tippy tap-tap-tap. A secret code for just the two of them.

The reaction is instant. The vine around her ankle snaps away and retreats, the other giving her hand a firm squeeze. Hello, hello! She can almost imagine the cheery voice saying. The vine around her fingers untagles itself and gives a firm point to the house on the hill before returning to the bush where it came.

The Gardener knows who she is and that she’s now on her way up. Amanda smiles ever so slightly beneath her mask and reaches to the bush to break of a quick sprig of whatever this flower is to bring along.

Smells only get sweeter as she gets deeper, nearly noxious when the porch is in sight. Aromatic lilies and roses, other flowers that Amanda has no idea what they’re called. The Gardener has tried to teach her many times, but it always gets pushed to the wayside for more important idea of traps and tactics for Trials. The Gardener never minds, just smiling and huffing fondly.

Amanda climbs the steps to the run-down porch and sees her there. The corpse is sat on the porch swing completely still, slumped against stained cushions and dead to the world. It has a gaping stomach wound and a split head, both overgrown with plant matter that weaves in through ribs and no doubt around the remaining brain left in the skull. It would be a ghastly sight if it wasn’t known that this is someone who’s actually still living.

“Hey,” She calls plainly.

The corpse all of a sudden springs back to life, a deep breath raising its chest and the eyes fluttering open. The good eye looks over to where she idles at the steps before the Gardener’s face stretches into a brilliant smile.

“Hello,” She chimes sweetly, “You got here faster than usual. One moment, please.”

“Of course.”

It’s always fascinating to see the Gardener unwind from the Garden. The plants slowly withdraw from her, leaving her body only with the peonies that have taken residence up in her permanently. One or two stray branches stay attached to her organs, but a guiding hand tugs them away and shoos them back to the rest its comrades. Soon it’s just the Gardener lounged lazily on the swing, stretching the life back into her muscles and yawning.

She finally finishes, rubbing her face and smiling once more.

“Hello, dove,” the Gardener speaks with absolute affection dripping from her voice. “Sorry about that, I was finishing up some planting.”

“No problem. Not really in a rush, anyway.” The Pig is all too willing to take the sweaty mask off in order to reveal her face to her beloved, smiling herself and walking the rest of the way to the swing.

Amanda sits rather ungracefully next to the Gardener, sighing deeply and letting her head fall back. The swing jostles and creaks at such a harsh intrusion, but holds fast for the two of them. She doesn’t worry that it might collapse, the Gardener has assured her that it’s plenty strong despite the run-down look of it.

(“If it can hold Yamaoka-san, I’m sure it’ll hold you just fine.” Amanda had chuckled at the thought of such a large man crammed onto the seat. How the Gardener manages to placate him, she doesn’t know.)

The corpse snuggles up to the Pig’s shoulder, making her throw an arm around the Gardener to pull her close. The two lean on each other and just take a moment to enjoy the peace before even attempting to talk. Amanda, because she cherishes these rare moments, and the Gardener, because she’s still trying to get back into her body after having her roots in the whole realm.

Eventually, though, the Gardener lets her head loll onto Amanda’s shoulder and she murmurs the start of conversation.

“How was your day?”

“Long,” Amanda admits. Trials are never easy, even for the Killers. “But I’m here now. Must have done something right, yeah?”

“Must have. I’ve also been waiting on you, so maybe the Boss picked up on that.”

The Gardener does indeed have a little sway on the Entity, but it’s not very much. Only enough to convince it to keep certain people out and inviting some people in ever so slightly more.

“I missed you,” Amanda admits with a small kiss to the Gardener’s head.

The other hums, content, answering right back, “I missed you too. I’m glad you’re here.”

“You were a bit tight on the ankle, though,” Amanda jokes, nudging her with her shoulder ever so slightly.

“Oh!” The Gardener pulls away with concern in her eyes before apologizing immediately, “I’m so sorry about that. I was expecting someone else, and-”

“I’m kidding,” Amanda laughs. The corpse stares blankly for a moment before sighing eyes and punching her ever so lightly on the thigh and snuggling back up.

“Jerk.”

“It’s what I do.”

Just like that, all is forgiven. Her curiosity is piqued, though, so she can’t help but ask:

“Who were you expecting?”

“I don’t know. Had a case of some minor vandalism a while ago. Nothing major, mind you, but still a pain.”

“Huh. You know who it was?”

“Not for sure, but I have my suspicions. Legion, most likely.”

“You want me to talk to them? Can’t have anyone fuckin’ up my girl’s garden.”

The Gardener giggles. Amanda smiles.

“No, don’t bother. Just kids being kids. I just have to be really careful about knowing who’s coming and going for a while.”

“If you say so. I’m sure I could rough ‘em up real good, though.”

“I bet you could! But they’d also just make fun of you for being so soft on me. I can hear it now; Big, scary Amanda Young being ushy-gushy with the Gardener.”

“Well, if they say that, I’ll just hit them harder. Problem solved.”

“No. No terrorizing the teenagers.”

Something cynical wants to speak up and remind the Gardener that these teenagers are cold-hearted killers just like the rest, but something about the notion of protecting the youth is sweet. Always her little Gardener being the one to look out for those stuck in the Nightmare.

And so, the two of them are content to sit on the porch, gossiping and chatting, hoping by the grace of the Entity that this will be a longer visit. All is well for right now. The sun is fake, but it’s warm enough. The porch swing is rusty and stained, but plenty comfortable to seat them for hours. The Garden is a sweet solace away from it all, and the Gardener its warden. The Gardener, Amanda’s girlfriend and dearest companion in this wretched hellscape. Though the pleasures are fleeting, she’ll cling on to them with every ounce of strength she has.

[oldschoolfrp]

Lord Guzz the hobgoblin king has arrived (Michael Wright from “At the Spottle Parlor” by Rick Swan, Dungeon magazine 12, July/August 1988)

[cerealkiller740]

1966 Shakey’s Pizza Parlors advertisement

[friendlessghoul]

Buster Keaton and Charlotte Greenwood Parlor, Bedroom and Bath - 1931

-Cinelandia, August 1931

[labellenouvelle]

TWISTED HEART

A set of  6 2 early 1900′s twisted steel wire Ice Cream parlor chairs . Back Heart design and great original patina. Super strong and sturdy , pretty comfortable too !!

Item No. RM3

Dimensions: Each chair is 35″ high ( back ) seats are 14″ round / 18.5″ high from the floor to seat.

List Price: $ 150 each / 2 available

504.581.3733 / t

info@labellenouvelle.com / e

[jolenes-book-journey]

Found Another Short Story in a Magazine

I am so excited I finally found a copy of the magazine called, “Calling All Girls”, February 1949 with the short story called. “A Giant in the Parlor”. It is a fictional story that Mrs. Butters wrote about Abraham Lincoln. There was no mention of this story in anything I have read until I was collecting newspaper articles to include with all the republished Young Adult books the family is…

[evan-collins90]

Georgie Porgie's Ice Cream Parlor - Westport, CT (1987?)

Designed by Arnold Kaye

Scanned from a 1988 issue of Contract Interiors Magazine & the book, Food Presentation & Display (1992)

[dustedmagazine]

P.G. Six — Parlor Tricks and Porch Favorites (Amish)

Parlor Tricks and Porch Favorites by P.G. Six

Lately, you’re likely to hear PG Six’s Pat Gubler shading Garcia Peoples’ guitar sprawl with folky modal melodies or wigging out alongside New England psych mainstay Matt Valentine in Wet Tuna or beefing up an already guitar-centric sound in acid folk’s Weeping Bong Band. But before all that, he, along with Valentine, did a lot to invent the whole freak folk genre in Tower Recordings. This debut solo album, originally recorded in 2001 and expanded with eight live and unreleased tracks, comes just after that and continues on from there. Its lysergic takes on ancient tunes make you realize just how freaky the folk genre is, even before you start to fool with it.

Gubler accompanied himself in a range of stringed and keyboarded instruments, some familiar, some not, as well as a mystic flute. His main partner for this disc was Tim Barnes, a drummer who has collaborated with rock and experimental artists including Tony Conrad, Ikue Mori, Sonic Youth, Jim O'Rourke and Jeph Jerman.

The original disc opens and closes with versions of “Letter to Lilli St. Cyr,” one in flute, the other in a reedy, staticky keyboard and the overtone haunted strumming of something like a dulcimer. The sounds are traditional but stretched and distorted into stranger shapes. The traditional song, “When I Was a Young Man,” gets this treatment, too, starting in a ren faire lilt of folky flute and sunlit guitar, a patter of hand drums moving its stately rhythm. Not only elapses, however, before a fuzzed electric shoulders into view, putting buzz and friction under this melancholy frolic. The song ends in a tug of war between its folk and psychedelic forces, with splintered distortions of electric guitar winning out in the end.

That latter song is one of the more well-behaved and gentle cuts from this original collection. The longer cuts push further into alchemical amalgamations of folk and free-rock jam. “Go Your Way,” an Annie Briggs cover and the album’s clear centerpiece, changes shapes like a wizard sloughing off forms. Its radiant picked purity giving way to fluttery sung melody slapped into motion by north African desert rhythms. It dissolves, late in the cut, into pure tone and timber, the sawing dissonance of stringed instruments smoldering, throwing off sudden bright sparks.

“Go Your Way” comes up again in the extra tracks, via a sparer, less free-ranging acoustic version performed at the Dwars Festival in Amsterdam. “When I Was a Young Man” also gets a second look, this time from a radio performance on New York’s WNYU, and an alternate take of “Divine Invasion” was recorded live at the Flywheel in Easthampton; I’m pretty sure I was there. These extra tracks are, to a one, warm and unfussy and assured, Gubler’s clear, unhurried voice drifting over complex webs of crystalline picking.

This expanded version of Parlor Tricks documents a free-wheeling turn-of-the-century scene in which New Weird America was just getting started. Hippie enclaves in California and rural New England had got to wondering, what if you took old British tunes and chords and got them really, really high? The answer was surprisingly wonderful, an art with roots in the past and heads in the clouds, and P.G. Six was as good as anyone at it. Parlor tricks, indeed! This stuff is magic.

Jennifer Kelly

[dovesdreaming]

Ink and needles

You and Eddie become close when you keep coming back to him for your piercings. One day you ask for a piercing that leaves Eddie flustered though and romance follows.

I want to write a steamier version one day!

Warnings: anatomy (not gendered), piercing tools

-

The bell above the door chimed as you stepped into the dimly lit tattoo parlor. The walls were adorned with flash sheets and framed photos of satisfied clients showing off their ink. The air was thick with the smell of antiseptic and the faint hum of a tattoo machine coming from the back room. You glanced around, taking it all in, until your eyes landed on the front desk where a man was leaning casually against the counter. He was flipping through a magazine, his wild curls spilling over his shoulders, and his black band tee showcasing worn graphics. Rings adorned his fingers, and his arms were covered in intricate tattoos that snaked up beneath his sleeves. Eddie Munson. You’d heard of him before, people in town talked about the guy who made the darkest, most intricate designs come to life. He had a reputation for being a bit of a wildcard, but everyone who came to him always left with a story.

You cleared your throat, nerves buzzing in your stomach as you approached the desk. He glanced up, his deep brown eyes locking onto yours. The corner of his mouth quirked up in a crooked grin. “Hey there” he greeted, his voice low and rough. "What can I do for you today?". You hesitated for a moment before speaking. "Hi, um, I was thinking about getting a piercing”. His grin widened, and he set the magazine down. "You've come to the right place. What are you thinking? Something simple, or are you looking to get a little wild?". You laughed softly, feeling the tension in your shoulders ease just a bit. There was something disarming about him, the way he looked at you like you were the most interesting person in the room. "Maybe somewhere in between”. He nodded, motioning for you to follow him to a side room with a high leather chair and a table lined with neatly arranged piercing tools. You sat down, your nerves creeping back as you explained what you wanted.

Eddie listened intently, his gaze focused on you the entire time. He asked a few questions, making sure you were comfortable and confident in your choice. His easygoing demeanor helped you relax, and before long, the piercing was done with minimal pain and a surprising amount of laughter. “There you go” he said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "You handled that like a champ”. You smiled, genuinely pleased with the result. "Thanks. I was more nervous than I thought I’d be, but you made it easy”. Eddie chuckled, running a hand through his curls. "Well, you’re a natural. Maybe you should come back, keep me company in this lonely old shop." You laughed, not entirely sure if he was joking or serious, but something about the way he said it made you want to take him up on the offer.

And you did. You found yourself coming back to the shop more often than you’d ever planned, sometimes for a new piercing, sometimes just to say hi. Each visit brought you and Eddie closer, your conversations becoming longer, more personal. You’d talk about everything from music to movies to the strange quirks of living in Hawkins. There was an easy chemistry between you two, something that neither of you acknowledged outright, but it was there, simmering just below the surface. Eddie’s teasing became more playful, his smiles lingering a bit longer, and you found yourself looking forward to every visit just to see him.

Then came the day you walked in with a request that neither of you were quite prepared for. Eddie was at the counter, sorting through paperwork when you strolled in. He looked up, his grin spreading across his face as soon as he saw you. "Well, if it isn’t my favorite client. What’s the plan for today? New piercing? Or are we finally gonna get you started on that tattoo?". You took a deep breath, feeling the familiar flutter in your stomach that always came when you were around him. "Actually, I was thinking about getting a piercing. But… it’s a little different this time." Eddie’s curiosity was piqued. He motioned for you to follow him into the piercing room, where he prepped his tools as usual. "Alright, hit me with it. What are we doing today?". You hesitated, your cheeks heating up as you fidgeted with the hem of your shirt. "I was thinking… nipple piercings."

Eddie froze for a split second, his hands pausing over the equipment. He cleared his throat, glancing up at you with a look that was both surprised and something else you couldn’t quite place. “You sure about that?" he asked, his voice a little rougher than usual. You nodded, trying to keep your voice steady. "Yeah, I’ve thought about it for a while now." He nodded slowly, his usual confidence faltering as he tried to process the request. "Alright. We can do that. Uh, just… make yourself comfortable, and we’ll get started." You could feel the shift in the air as you took off your top, leaving you in just your bra. Eddie was suddenly more careful with his movements, more focused on the task at hand, but you didn’t miss the way his eyes flickered over your skin, lingering a bit longer than necessary.

He guided you through the process, explaining everything as he went, his voice steady but lacking its usual playfulness. When it came time for the piercing, his fingers brushed against your skin, and you noticed how his touch was gentler than ever before. It wasn’t long before the piercings were done, but the atmosphere in the room had changed entirely. Eddie seemed a little more flustered, his usual bravado replaced by something softer, almost hesitant.

“All done” he said, his voice quieter as he stepped back, avoiding your gaze.

You smiled, feeling a strange mix of emotions swirling inside you. "Thanks, Eddie. They look… really good”. He finally looked at you, his eyes softer than you’d ever seen them. "Yeah, well, you make it easy”. You both stood there for a moment, the weight of what had just happened hanging in the air. There was something unspoken between you, something that had been building for weeks, maybe even months. Before you could second-guess yourself, you closed the distance between you and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. His skin was warm under your lips, and you felt him tense for just a second before relaxing.

“Eddie” you began, your voice trembling slightly as you pulled back, meeting his gaze. "I… I really like spending time with you”.

He blinked, clearly taken aback by your sudden admission, but then a slow smile spread across his face, more genuine and tender than you’d ever seen. "Yeah? Well, I really like having you around”. His hand reached up, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering just a moment too long. "You know… you don’t have to come in just for piercings, right? You can, uh, come in anytime. For anything”. Your heart raced at his words, the meaning behind them clear as day. "I’d like that" you whispered, your eyes locking onto his. Eddie’s smile widened, his usual confidence returning as he leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. "Good. Because I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t want to scare you off."

You laughed softly, the tension in the room melting away. "I think I can handle it”. “Yeah?" He grinned, his thumb brushing gently across your cheek. "Well, in that case, how about we start with dinner tonight?". You nodded, your shyness momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the moment. "I’d love that”. Eddie’s smile was contagious as he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. "Me too. Now, let’s get you cleaned up, and we’ll make those dinner plans official."

And as you sat there, the cool antiseptic stinging slightly against your fresh piercings, you couldn’t help but feel that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something much bigger than either of you had expected.

[brunchable]

Golden Hour

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader

Themes: Set in 1940s. Confession. Reciprocated love. Friends to Lovers. FOR HOPELESS ROMANTICS. FLUFF, FLUFF FLUFF, I'M GOING TO CRY.

Summary: They say if you catch a falling maple leaf, you will fall in love with the person you are walking with….

A/N: IT'S AUTUMN SO WHY NOT AN AUTUMN FLUFFFF. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH. That's all I can say for this oneshot. HEEEEEEELP.

tags: @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss

They say if you catch a falling maple leaf, you will fall in love with the person you are walking with…

You’d heard it once, some playful superstition from a passing stranger or tucked within a ladies’ magazine you’d read in the parlor. A charming, innocent idea, really. But as autumn swept in, bringing with it the rustle of leaves and the scent of burning wood, it was hard not to dwell on it every time you found yourself alone with him, that ache in your heart growing quietly beneath the weight of all the things you couldn’t say.

It started with the glances. Fleeting moments where you’d catch Bucky watching you across a crowded room, his gaze soft and unguarded, only to see him look away the moment he knew you’d noticed. And while every sensible thought told you it was nothing, a part of you, tender and foolish, couldn’t help but wonder. Wonder if maybe, in those stolen glances, there was something he didn’t say. But then he’d laugh, smile, and carry on, as if you were just a friend, a confidante… nothing more.

The doubt settled heavily in your chest, a quiet weight that seemed to deepen each time he stood just a little too close, each accidental brush of his hand against yours. Every polite touch, every lingering smile—it was agony and comfort all at once, and you told yourself it was only natural, the way he acted around you. Yet it didn’t stop your heart from racing with every small kindness, hoping, praying, that maybe… just maybe, there was something more hidden in those smiles.

Still, it was a longing you knew must be yours alone, a secret you held tightly, tucked away like a pressed flower in a favorite book, something you feared would wither if he saw it too clearly. Because what if he did notice? What if he saw how your breath caught when he laughed, how you spent sleepless nights replaying every moment he’d lingered too close, his presence warming the air between you, as if he belonged there? The mere thought of him realizing, of knowing you looked at him that way, was as thrilling as it was terrifying. So you’d almost convinced yourself it was safer this way—to keep your distance, to save yourself the heartbreak of expecting something that wasn’t yours to hope for.

And yet, those little whispers of hope refused to fade. You’d wonder, late at night, if he noticed how your smile softened when he was near, if he ever sensed the way you held onto his every word. It was that quiet, fragile hope that kept you walking beside him now, clutching the silly old superstition as if it were a lifeline. If only you could catch that falling leaf, you told yourself, maybe it would mean something. Maybe it would make these quiet, one-sided glances into something real.

It was a ridiculous thought. You knew that. But as you strolled beside him beneath the blazing colors of the trees, your heart beating in time with each leaf that drifted to the ground, you couldn’t stop yourself from wishing—wishing that, just this once, he would look at you and truly see.

× × × ×

The park was alight with the fiery colors of autumn, the soft hum of city life drifting faintly in the background—horns honking in the distance, the murmur of people milling about in their wool coats and fedoras. You strolled side by side with Bucky, wrapped up in your coat and scarf, the crisp October air nipping at your cheeks. He wasn’t one to join you on leisurely walks, especially on his rare day off, but here he was, his hands in his pockets, letting you nudge him now and then, teasing him about looking so out of place among all the folks enjoying the pumpkin displays and hot chestnut stands.

As you walked, you kept glancing up, scanning the branches above, hoping they might give you just one chance at catching a leaf. Every time the breeze rustled through, a few would break free, fluttering down to the ground, but always out of reach. You tried to be subtle, sneaking looks upward every so often.

But Bucky wasn’t so easy to fool.

“You keep looking at the trees like they’re about to start talking or something,” he finally said, raising an eyebrow. “Something on your mind doll?”

“Hmm? Oh, just taking in the leaves,” you replied quickly, glancing away to hide the color rising in your cheeks. There was no way you were going to tell him about the silly superstition that had been occupying your thoughts since you’d left home: the one that claimed if you caught a falling maple leaf, you’d fall in love with the person you were walking beside.

Ridiculous, really, you told yourself. Just a bit of fun that didn’t mean anything. And yet, the hope of catching that leaf lingered, even as you kept up the act of enjoying the autumn air like anyone else out for a stroll.

You kept walking, chatting here and there, and just as you were about to give up on the idea, a bright red maple leaf broke from the branches above, twirling down like it was dancing on the breeze.

“There!” you gasped, reaching up on your toes without a second thought, laughing at your own attempt. But it floated just out of reach, swaying side to side like it was toying with you and just as you thought you had it, a warm hand reached past your shoulder, catching it effortlessly.

“Got it.” he said, voice low, his breath warm against your ear.

Bucky was right behind you, his chest brushing against your back, and you felt your heart skip a beat as his fingers closed around the delicate stem of the leaf. He slowly drew his hand back, and as you turned, you found yourself face to face with him, his blue eyes fixed on you, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. Just as you reached for it. He held it up, drawing his hand back ever so slightly, holding the leaf just out of reach with a smug glint in his eye. You shot him a look, reaching again, but he raised it even higher, his lips twitching into a smirk.

“Is this what you’re after?” he asked, holding up the leaf between you both teasingly dangling the leaf above your head. His voice was low, his gaze warm, and for a second, the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, standing in the dappled sunlight beneath a canopy of brilliant colors.

“Actually,” you replied, shrugging, trying to play it cool, “just throw it away.”

“Throw it away?” His eyebrow lifted, still holding the leaf just out of reach. “Why’s that?”

You sighed, hoping he wouldn’t catch the faint blush rising to your cheeks. 

“Because,” you muttered, trying to sound dismissive, “if you catch a falling maple leaf, you’re supposed to fall in love with the person you’re walking with. So… throw it away.”

A flicker of surprise passed over his face, followed by a look of curiosity, his smirk softening as he held the leaf up between you.

“Oh really?” he asked, voice low, like he’d just uncovered something unexpectedly fascinating. “Then why did you try to catch it?”

Your mind scrambled, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted, “Because there was a cute guy over there.” You pointed vaguely behind him, your heart hammering with the hope that he’d buy it.

“A cute guy?” He stilled, eyebrows furrowing, his jaw tightening slightly as he turned, his gaze scanning over his shoulder. 

In that split second, you seized the chance, swiping the leaf from his hand and tucking it into your coat pocket just as he turned back around. When he did, his eyes dropped to your hand resting protectively over your pocket, a knowing smile pulling at his lips.

“So… a cute guy, huh?”

You shrugged, trying to sound casual, though the racing in your chest was anything but. “Yup.”

He tilted his head, studying you, a soft chuckle slipping from him, one that you felt more than heard, as if he’d found the whole thing irresistibly charming. He gave a small shake of his head, his eyes still fixed on you, his gaze holding just long enough to make your heart trip.

“Guess I missed him,” he said, his voice carrying a softness that made your stomach flutter.

“Guess you did,” you replied, fighting a grin as you started walking again, trying to ignore the way your heart skipped every time his gaze lingered a little too long.

And as the two of you continued walking, he kept glancing at you, his eyes holding a spark you hadn’t seen before, as if he was seeing right through the playful mask you’d tried to keep up. Then, after a few quiet steps, he looked up again, as if guided by instinct. Another leaf had broken from the trees above, twirling down toward him, and before you could even react, he lifted his hand, fingers closing around it with smooth ease.

You swallowed as he lowered the leaf, holding it between you once again, but this time, the teasing spark in his eyes was gentler, softer, with a warmth that made your breath hitch.

“Got another one,” he said lightly, though his voice was gentle. You swallowed, your heart hammering in your chest, the warmth in his eyes undeniable.

“What are you going to do with it?” you managed, voice barely a whisper.

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips, his gaze slipping from the leaf to you. 

“Well,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper as he stepped closer, slipping the leaf into the pocket of your jacket, his hand brushing yours, lingering just long enough to make your pulse quicken. “Guess we should keep this one safe, too.”

His fingers brushed over yours as he pulled his hand away, his touch warm even through the fabric of your coat, and for a moment, he didn’t step back. His eyes held yours, the silence between you electric, his expression softened in a way that made your chest ache.

“Maybe these superstitions aren’t just legends after all,” he murmured, his voice barely audible, the words hanging in the air as his gaze swept over your face, almost as if he were memorizing it.

With a slow, knowing smile that sent a thrill down your spine, he straightened, his hand brushing yours ever so slightly as he turned to keep walking. He only made it a few steps before glancing back, an amused spark in his eye as he looked at you, still standing there, your cheeks warm, your heart racing.

“Well?” he called, his tone a soft invitation. “Are you coming?”

Before you could gather your thoughts, he reached out, taking your hand in his. His fingers intertwined with yours, your smaller hand fitting perfectly in his larger one, his touch warm against the chill in the air. Then, in one smooth, gentle motion, he brought both your hands up and tucked them inside his coat pocket, pulling you closer, the fabric soft and warm around your hand.

You glanced up, caught off guard by the quiet tenderness in his expression. His hand remained steady around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a subtle, comforting motion as he held you close, shielding your joined hands from the cool autumn breeze.

As you began walking together, his arm tucked protectively around yours, he glanced down at you, a hint of that warm, knowing smile still lingering on his lips. And as his eyes met yours, you felt that spark again, that unspoken promise that this, whatever it was, was only the beginning.

[lilyginnyblackv2]

Social Issues that Help with Understanding Buddy Daddies

Here are some political, social, and cultural aspects of Japanese culture that I think is important to keep in mind when watching Buddy Daddies. Please note: this is a super long post, with lots of pictures. 

1. Human Trafficking - Slave Labor

In Episode One, we learn that Miri’s birth father was involved in labor based human trafficking involving Southeast Asian individuals. This is currently a very big issue in Japan, since Southeast Asian immigrants (among others) are viewed as a cheap labor option and usually experience slave labor like conditions.

From The United States Department of State website:

Men, women, and children from Northeast Asia, Southeast Asia, South Asia, Latin America, and Africa travel to Japan for employment or fraudulent marriage and are subjected to sex trafficking. Traffickers use fraudulent marriages between foreign women and Japanese men to facilitate the entry of women into Japan for sex trafficking in bars, clubs, brothels, and massage parlors. Traffickers keep victims in forced labor or commercial sex using debt-based coercion, threats of violence or deportation, blackmail, confiscation of passports and other documents, and other psychologically coercive methods.

2. Drugs in Japan

When I was living and working as an ALT in Japan, two ALTs (in a different district, but within the same company of my own), got caught with drugs. It was a big deal and ended up in the newspapers. The company I worked for had to do a lot of PR work with the elementary and junior high schools that they had contracts with, to ensure that the contracts would remain. As for me and the other ALTs? We had to sit through like five separate meetings within like two months about drugs and drug laws in Japan. 

The barebones takeaway is that, in Japan, weed is viewed as being on the same level as hardcore drugs. Charges can be steep and strict. Even just knowing that someone has drugs, and you don’t say anything to law enforcement about it, can get you in trouble. There is a grey area with drugs, which is stuff like bath salts and the like. Since the selling of things like that cannot be prohibited, so they are easily accessible to the public. 

Japan still has a very “90′s D.A.R.E.” approach to drugs. It’s catchphrase is 「ダメ。ゼッタイ。」or “No! Never.”

(Image from a Web Magazine called Nagasaki Press.)

When celebrities are caught with (what’s usually) weed, it can basically be the end of their careers, since recreational drug use of any kind (excluding alcohol, of course), is still negatively looked down upon in Japanese society. This is why it is still heavily left in the hands of the yakuza and drug kingpins, etc. Though there has been a recent increase in protests and ideology surrounding the idea of legalizing weed. Still, not much acceptance for recreational use is likely to come yet. However...

There may soon be some revision to the laws, which will allow for medical use:

Legislation changes scheduled for 2023

In 2021, the MHLW established an expert committee to review the Cannabis Control Act, and it is expected revisions will be proposed in a bill to be submitted in 2023. This will most likely allow for the use of medical cannabis. 2022/12/02

From: Euromonitor

So, something to keep in mind when Kazuki talks about a drug kingpin here is that this drug kingpin is likely not just dealing with super, hardcore drugs, but also softer ones too, like weed.

3. Child Protection Squad

There is this misconception in Japan that really young kids, like Miri’s age, can just roam free all around Japan and no one will find it odd. In Episode 1, we do see Miri roaming around the city without anyone really taking notice, but she also wasn’t in an area where there would be people that are trained to take notice.

In the above image she is at a park, which is likely close to a school somewhere. The man that approaches her here has a band around his jacket sleeve that says こども見守り隊 (kodomo mimamori-tai), which gets translated to “Child Protection Squad.” Basically, these are like crossing guards, in a way, because they do play a similar role to that, but they also do more than that as well:

(Image from the Japanese website: Nice Senior).

This people basically ensure that kids stay on the right paths on their way to school. Most of the time, when elementary school children head off to school, they will go in groups (with the 5th or 6th graders being the leaders) and there will often be older people outside their houses on their way in, keeping an eye on the children to make sure they get to school okay. 

And that’s talking about elementary school aged kids. For ones that are around Miri’s age, usually the parents (mostly mothers) will bring them by bike:

Or they will get picked up by a bus:

This one looks pretty boring in comparison to some others you might see though, like these:

(Image from the Hiyoshidai School Website)

Sometimes the daycare workers will also take them on little excursions outside using big strollers for the kids to travel around in:

(The image is obviously from a stock photo site called fotostock, but yeah, I’ve seen these before when I lived in Japan).

But a little toddler just sitting on her own at a mostly empty park with just a guy sitting at a park bench nearby watching her? That would raise attention and an eyebrow from someone who is essentially a crossing guard and whose job is to ensure the safety of kids as they travel to and from school. 

The rest is under a Read More.

4. Police in Japan

I saw a comment somewhere (maybe it was over on Youtube) about how the cops are portrayed here in Buddy Daddies. The comment was basically that Japanese cops wouldn’t be that aggressive with a child. But, well, cops in Japan have issues like everywhere. Though, the main issue with cops recently has more so been with racial profiling:

(Excerpt is from a Japan Times article entitled:  60% of people with foreign roots questioned by Japanese police, survey finds).

Of course, this situation is different from the one we see happening with Miri, but the Japanese police have issues with corruption too. So this happening wouldn’t seem too out of the realm of possibilities to me. The anime Tiger & Bunny 2 Part 2 also recently had some moments in the season where there was some anti-cop (ACAB-type) sentiments expressed by a character (though that series is also meant to take place in a city based on NYC).

5. Issues Surrounding Reproductive Rights, Contraception, and Abortion

“Took advantage of me” is fairly vague wording, but considering the type of guy he was, and the fact that Miri’s mother is caught in another abusive relationship, it wouldn’t surprise me if Miri’s conception wasn’t fully consensual one. People like to talk about how safe Japan is, but Japan has a lot of sexual violence that goes unreported: 

(From an article entitled:  Many sexual violence victims in Japan do not report assaults to police, support groups: survey - The article was posted on November 24, 2020 over on The Mainichi news website).

There is a lot of societal pressure in Japan, that can cause a lot of judgement as well. Especially around issues of reproductive rights. From a Japan Times articles entitled:  Pandemic provides an opportunity to improve access to contraception, posted on January 30th, 2022, we can get a little insight into the issues surrounding contraceptives:

The article also talked about the judgement that can come with contraceptives. The last line also talks about abortion, which comes with its own set of issues in Japan:

(From The Japan Times article: Abortion legal and apolitical in Japan, but cost and consent present barriers)

So abortion was likely an option that Miri’s mother didn’t think was really viable, especially in her situation.

7. Being a Single Mother in Japan, Adoption

In Ep.3 we hear Kazuki parroting a lot of the stuff you usually hear when it comes to women in children, like it is meant to be a natural and innate thing. There is a societal pressure for a woman to give birth and care for the child, even when they aren’t in the best situations to do so. Miri’s mother was, for all intents and purposes, a single mother. Since I doubt the abusive man she is currently with had any hand in helping Miri.

Being a single mother anywhere can be a big challenge, but especially so in Japan. Some issues that single mother’s face in Japan, according to the article “Why Most Families with Single Mothers in Japan are Living in Poverty” from a site called The Borgen Project: 

From that same article, we learn that joint-custody and child support doesn’t exist in Japan. So Miri’s mother was likely under a lot of societal and financial stress, along with possible Post-Partum Depression, and (also probable) burnout. This doesn’t mean that her behavior or attitudes are okay, but that they are likely a result of a failed system. 

I’ve seen some people bring up adoption, but adoption doesn’t automatically mean that a child will have a better life either. My grandfather’s mother was force to give her children up to the state, so my grandfather spent a good chunk of his life in an orphanage. It wasn’t a pleasant experience. And the probability that Miri would have been adopted had her mother gone through the actual system is, sadly, extremely low. From an article entitled: “The state of orphans in Japan and how to help” found on the site Zenbird.Media is this bit of information:

And even if Miri had been in an orphanage, Misaki (Miri’s mother) would still be her legal guardian. 

So an option like that would be unappealing for Misaki, because she doesn’t want anything to do with Miri. 

7. LGBT+ Individuals Being Viewed as “Not Productive”

Finally, we have the last thing I briefly want to talk about. The main backbone of Buddy Daddies, which is these two hitmen taking care of a child. Last year, a Japanese politician was in the news because she retracted some previous statements she made in 2016 and 2018. We are going to focus on her 2018 statements, which were:

Her comment received a lot of backlash and was big news. Her retracting her statements also brought a lot of news and talk too. The above information comes from The Japan Times article: “ Japanese lawmaker retracts past remarks on LGBTQ and other minorities.” Her other comments are awful too, but it should be noted that her one about sexual-minority couples stems from the issue of Japan’s declining birthrate. Even though many people in Japan are supportive of LGBT+ rights, there are people that hold a similar viewpoint as this. 

Buddy Daddies is pretty directly challenging this ideology, especially with how they have been handling things. So that’s pretty cool and revolutionary in its own way. It makes me interested in seeing how this continued topic as well as any future social issue topics will be handled or touched upon in Buddy Daddies.

If you read this all until the end: thank you so much! I put a lot of work into this write up and I hope it can help (I learned some things too while researching!).

[oldschoolfrp]

A spirited round of spottle, a game using dice rolled in fly dust to tempt the spottle toad.  (Michael Wright from “At the Spottle Parlor” by Rick Swan, Dungeon magazine No 12, July/August 1988)

Guests for tonight's game include Shkad the AWOL lizard man who drank too much leech wine and was separated from his patrol. He hopes to make enough money to bribe his superiors when he returns. Also playing is Gergy d'Ambreville, "a distantly related member of the famed d'Ambreville family of the House of Sylaire in New Averoigne (described in D&D module X2 Castle Amber). Like many members of that family, Gergy is afflicted with lycanthropy. His disease causes him to periodically transform into a wereboar."

[thealtoduck]

Well, fuck me… on a magic altar

Garfield Logan x Male Reader

Warnings: Smut, bottom!Reader, top!Gar, anal sex, virgininty loss, missionary position, magic sex ritual, unprotected sex, friends with benefits (… kinda)…

Part 1 & Part 2…

Summary: Rachel needs your and Gar’s help to seal away a demon but the process of doing it is rather heated…

——

You were working your regular shift in Madame Xanadu’s parlor, it was only 2 hours left until closing. There wasn’t a lot of business that day so you sat behind the reception reading a magazine. The bell over the door rang making you look up as Rachel and Gar came over towards you.

”Hey guys, what’s up?” you said casually, closing your magazine. Rachel looked awkwardly towards Gar for help but Gar looked just as lost on what to do. ”Y/n, uhm- there is no way to make this easy so i’m just gonna say it” Rachel warned.

”Y/n, i need you to have sex with Gar” Rachel blurted out.

”Get out of my parlor! What kind of establishment do you think we’re running here?” you stated shocked.

”Y/n, you don’t understand, i need you and Gar to have sex on a magic altar to seal away a demon” Rachel tried.

”I’m sorry, what did you just say…?” you asked still just as confused.

”Okay, Y/n, listen! There is this magic evil demon who was sealed away in a magic prison 5000 years ago in a magic temple. Every 100 years you need to do a ritual to keep him locked in, the ritual includes having virgin get their virginty taken on the altar inside the magic temple, that’s why we need you” Rachel explained fully.

You turned to Gar and said seriously ”Bro… you told her i’m a virgin… not cool”. ”Sorry, it was urgent” Gar apologised. ”Y/n focus! Are you in or not?” Rachel questioned in a panic, banging her fist down on the counter. ”Will you at least buy me dinner first?” you asked. Rachel looked like she was about to kill you before Gar cut in saying ”Of course we will”.

”Okay sick, let’s go” you said and picked up your jacket. You then walked in to Madame Xanadu’s fortune telling room, where she was shuffling a deck of cards with magic and said ”Hey, Madame Xanadu?”. ”Yes, dear?” she said looking up from her cards.

”I’m gonna have to leave early, Rachel and Gar are taking me to somekind of temple so Gar can can take my virginity to keep a demon imprisoned” you explained. Madame Xanadu didn’t flinch at the statement, only uttering a small ”Has it already been a hundered years, huh? Wow, time flies”. Before saying a quick ”Alright have fun”.

The three of you left stopping at a fast food place to get you and Gar some food. You three then made your way in to an alley where Rachel opened a portal that you all went through. On the other side you stepped out to a magnificent stone temple.

Intricate carvings were all along the walls and pillars. Torches were spread along the walls, tons of candles had been lit around the big stone altar table which was waiting for you and Gar. ”There’s the altar, when you’re ready just get up on it and do your thing” Rachel explained drawing a chalk circle around it.

”I guess i’ll just leave you to it then, good luck” Rachel said and re-opened the portal and went through, once it closed you and Gar were left alone. It didn’t hit you how awkward the whole thing was until now, when Rachel was there it had felt like you were doing your part in saving the world.

Now that it was just you and Gar the whole thing felt a lot more personal. Sure, you and Gar had been flirty and had cuddled a little in the past but you weren’t boyfriends or even dating. The two of you sat down on the temple floor in silence and ate your food.

”How are you feeling?” Gar asked caringly nudging your leg. You took a sip from your soda and answered ”Just trying to absorb the whole thing, i’m gonna be completely honest this is not how i imagined losing my virginity”.

Gar let out a small chuckle. ”Are you fine with you know… it being with me?” he asked. ”Yeah, i’d rather it be with someone i know and trust” you answered making Gar smile and say ”I promise i’ll try to make it special for you”. The two of you finished your fast food dinner and stood up.

”So… where do we begin…?” you asked awkwardly. ”How about…” Gar started and pressed a soft kiss against your lips, the action made your cheeks heat up. Gar then led you in to the chalk circle Rachel had drawn out and you sat down on the edge of the stone altar.

You took of your jacket and threw it aside, Gar stood himself between your spead legs and you and Gar started shyly making out, Gar letting you get a feel for it. His lips were delicate to yours making a quiet moan escape your mouth. Gar ran his hands on your thighs massaging them lightly.

You put your arms around his neck as your make out grew more heated. Once you pulled your lips apart, Gar looked at you with loving eyes. He wanted to make you feel good so you could remember it with joy despite the circumstances.

”Can you help me undress?” you asked him he nodded and got down on one knee. He started by taking off your shoes and socks, he then took of his own, he then stood up again. You unbuttoned your pants and Gar helped you pull them down your legs.

Gar then removed his hoodie and t-shirt revealing his slim athletic physique. You put your fingers against his chest trailing them lightly over his skin. You moved further up on the altar as Gar took of his own pants leaving him in his boxers.

The two of you sat on the altar making out, Gar lifted your shirt and helped you remove it. You had expected the big temple room to feel cold and drafty to your skin, but the many lit candles around the altar and spread through the room made it warm and cozy almost like being next to a fire place.

Gar helped you lay down on the altar which felt chilly at first touch to your back making you let out a small gasp, Gar noticed and picked up his shirt laying it down under you as a small blanket. ”Is that better?” he asked. ”Yeah” you said.

Gar positioned himself on top of you as you made out in your underwear, your bulges rubbing softly against each other for the first time. Both your cocks had grown hard in anticipation what was about to happen between the two of you.

You broke your lips from Gar and whispered ”I’m ready”. Gar nodded and uttered a small ”Okay”. His fingers slipped under the waistband of your boxers and Gar gently pulled them down, revealing your untouched manhood to him. Once your boxers were fully of he threw them aside.

He then tugged of his own underwear revealing his hung dick. Gar climbed off the altar and rumaged through his bag eventually picking up a bottle of lube. He then came back, he sat on his knees and spread your legs revealing your virgin ass for him, your face heated up as he did.

Gar noticed you had grown a bit nervous and he looked you in the eyes. ”You’re so beautiful” he said genuinely he then leaned down placing a kiss on your upper chest. He trailed kisses down your body until he eventually placed one on your dick making it twitch in excitement.

”I gonna stretch you out now, okay?” he let you know. You gave him an approving nodd and he poured some lube in his hand spreading it on his finger. He lifted your legs revealing your tight virgin hole to him, then his first finger made contact making you let out a light gasp as his lube slicked finger penetrated you.

The new feeling made you let out quiet moan. Gar studied your face for signs of discomfort but you were taking it so well. ”You’re doing so good, Y/n” he praised lightly as his finger was all the way inside you. He slowly moved his finger in and out of you until he felt he could add another finger.

He kept stretching you out until he had added a third finger and worked you open. He then removed his fingers from your ass making sure to pull out slowly. ”Are you ready?” Gar asked softly. ”Yeah” you confirmed taking his hand yours and placing a kiss on it.

Gar then spread lube over his cock and aligned himself with your hole and slowly started pushing in to your virgin heat. You gripped Gar’s arm, squeezing it as Gar slowly filled your ass with his cock. ”Your taking me so well Y/n” Gar whispered encouragingly.

Once he was fully sheathed inside you, he gave you time to adjust to him as he placed kisses on your cheek and whispered praises in your ear. After a while you told him ”You can start moving”. ”Okay” Gar nodded and slowly started pulling out before softly pushing back in.

Gar was completely stuffed inside but the previous pain had turned to pleasure as Gar rhythmically moved in and out of your tightness. You and Gar started hungrily making out once more, both your moans in pleasure echoing through the temple room

Your shared body heat created beads of sweat on your foreheads and gave your naked bodies a light sheen in the candle light. The carvings along the walls had started glowing white, probably a sign that the magic ritual had begun.

You wondered if the demon could see you get deflowered for the purpose of sealing him away. ”Gar, fuck your big” you moaned as his gentle thrusts filled you up. ”That’s right baby” Gar said with a cocky smile.

You hands pressed against Gar’s pecs, this action made Gar release a loud moan. He was in ecstasy as your tight virgin hole was squeezed around his large cock. ”Such a perfect ass” Gar praised, he wanted to bring you to the same kind of pleasure he felt.

He did his best to thrust deeper in to you without going to hard wanting to stay gentle for your first time. It worked as his length grazed against your prostate making you let out a sudden moan.

His sudden action made your orgasm quickly approach making you brain go foggy from . ”Gar, I’m gonna- I’m gonn-!” you moaned but couldn’t finish as you shot ropes of cum over yourself and Gar’s abs. The sight of your cum covered self made Gar wanna go wild.

He did is best to contain the beast from erupting from within him and taking you like a common bitch. You and Gar kissed and he said gently ”I’m close”. As he plowed himself in to you the feeling of your walls clenching around him drove him over the edge.

With one last pump in your now loose virgin hole, Gar groaned loudly as his cock erupted filling you with his warm load, his seed staining your innocence forever. Both of you panted heavily as your hot and sweaty bodies tangeled together letting you both catch your breath.

The glowing white walls created a large flash of white signifying the rituals completion. Your body felt shaky as you tried to move, Gar let you sit on the edge of the altar as he helped you get dressed again. ”Did it feel good?” he wondered.

”Yeah” you answered dreamily not having fully snapped back to reality yet, this made Gar smile. ”Was- Was i good?” you found yourself asking. Gar cupped your cheeks and said ”You were perfect” and he placed a loving kiss on your lips.

Once you both were fully dressed Rachel soon emerged through a portal to pick you up. She understandingly didn’t ask a lot more questions than ”Did it go well?” and a ”Feeling okay?” directed towards you. She opened a portal that led to right outside your apartment building and you all walked through.

Gar then turned to Rachel saying ”Can we have a moment?”. Rachel nodded understandingly and gave the two of you some privacy. ”Look i know this whole thing wasn’t ideal so i wanted to ask you out on real date to you know make up for it” Gar said.

You smirked and said jokingly ”Really? This was all i could have possibly wanted” making Gar chuckle. You continued ”I will however take you up on that date offer, how about sometime next week?”. Gar nodded and said ”Sure, i’ll text you later with a date”. ”Okay” you nodded and you pulled each other in to a hug. Gar gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before letting go.

You waved him and Rachel goodbye as they entered another portal taking them home. You then on shaky legs made your way in to your apartment building, dreaming about you future date with Gar.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Like my father pt 3 {burb}

Sirius Black x Potter!Reader

Summary: Sirius asks Y/N out on a date, with the subtly of being hit by a bus

CW: A few curses, no helmets on the motorcycle(drive responsively), fluffy, not proof read

WC: 2714

Tagged: @hisparentsgallerryy @crowleythesexydemon @otterlockholmes

Part one

You were in the parlor room of the house, wrapped up in a wooden quilt your mother had worked on all summer.

It was getting darker earlier, a telltale sign that summer was ending. Still, fall was coming, and you couldn't deny your excitement for it. Especially as the flowers outside started to turn that beautiful red and gold.

“Still reading?” Your eyes flickered from the window to the figure in the hall. It was late, and Sirius had been out most of the day, you couldn't believe you didn't hear the door open. You were hardly able to make out the figure of your father walking upstairs.

“Mhm.” You hummed and set the book aside. “I'm lying, no, not really.”

He chuckled and set his keys on the coffee table. Trying to be quiet and respectful of the sleeping residents.

Then, like an absolute dick, he grabbed you by your ankles and yanked you across the couch. You gave a yelp and a laugh as he lugged you up by your arms when he was able to reach them. “Up! Up! Let's go.”

“Where?” You squeaked out past your giggles and got to your feet, he simply put his finger to his lips to tell you to shush. As if he didn't cause the scene to begin with-

He dragged you along, grabbing his keys again and pulling you out the door with hardly enough time for you to slip on your shoes. He walked you down the drive and gestured to a large tarp in the street.

You looked at it with a small laugh and lifted your eyebrow at him. “What's this?”

“You can't tell James yet.” He smirked and grabbed the tarp, yanking it down to reveal a jet black motorcycle. Your jaw dropped as you looked it over, and he patted the seat a bit. “What do you think?”

You walked over and gave it a good look. It looked so damn cool, but.. “This isn't the bike you wanted.”

Sirius couldn't help but smile. Of course, all those months of him cutting out models from magazines, ranting about different fit and engine sizes, he never really thought you were truly listening to him. Not how much he listens to you.

“Why the change?”

Sirius snapped out of his thoughts and gave a small shrug. “Your dad helped me pick it out. Said it was more stable for a two seater.”

You raised an eyebrow, giving a small shocked laugh. “So, you’re telling me my dad had a hand in this?”

Sirius nodded, his grin widening. “Yep! He even took it for a spin to make sure it could handle a bit of speed. Said it was perfect for two people..”

“Two people?” You echoed and walked over, as he sat down on the bike and smirked up at you. You smiled with an arched eyebrow as you pulled your cardigan tighter around you.

“Mhm. In case I have to save you from another rough date.” He teased and you groaned in embarrassment.

“Seriously? You’re still thinking about that?” You laughed, shaking your head. “It was one bad date! I’m fine now.”

“Maybe.” He shrugged, a mischievous smirk taking over his face. “But I’d rather be prepared. You never know when another git might come along.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile was tugging at your lips. “So, are you saying I need a personal bodyguard now? Is that you?”

“Always has been, against my will, might I add.” He cheeked and you couldn't help but laugh.

“Come on. I need to test her out, you gonna help me or not?”

“What? You want me to get on? Ride that death trip? I'm not your guinea pig.” You scoffed and he pressed his tongue to his cheek.

“No need to be scared, bams.”

You gave a huff of a laugh and shook your head. “No way.”

“Come on, bambi. You know how this goes. You tell me no, I say I'll beg, you tell me not to be an idiot, I get all sentimental and you cave to my charms.”

You crossed your arms, trying to suppress a smile. “That’s not fair! You know I can’t resist when you get all sentimental.” You sang in a sarcastic tone.

“Exactly.” Sirius leaned in closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “So save us both the embarrassment.”

You glanced back at the house, where the soft glow of lamps lit up in your parents room. You bit your cheek and watched as your father’s shadow greeted your mothers.

“... she'll kill you if she sees me on that thing. You and my dad.”

“Then let's make sure she doesn't see.” He teased and nudged you with a helmet. You only stood there for a few more moments before muttering a curse and taking it with a giddy feeling.

Sirius beamed as you accepted the helmet, sliding it over your head and adjusting the straps beneath your chin. “See? You look so cute.” Cooed teasingly.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto your face. “Fine, but if my mom finds out, I’m blaming you.”

“Good luck with that.” He laughed, giving you a playful nudge as he swung his leg over the bike and settled into the seat. “Just hold on tight, and I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You climbed on behind him, your heart racing with anticipation and a hint of nerves. As you wrapped your arms around his waist, you felt the warmth of his body seep through the layers of your clothing. It was a comforting sensation, though you tried to focus on the task at hand rather than the fluttering in your heart.

You felt so incredibly pathetic.

Since that night he saved you from your bad date, you had seen Sirius a bit differently. Not that you didn't have a small crush on him back at Hogwarts, it was so different now. You didn't want to admit you might be crushing again, giving Sirius made it abundantly clear you were just a sister to him. A kid.

“Ready?”

“Yeah!” You shouted above the engine and gave a startled yelp when he started up and sped off.

“Where is your helmet!?” You screamed and he laughed, leaning forward further.

“You're wearing it, bams!”

You closed your eyes tight and hugged him closer, hiding your face in his back. Only for your eyes to shoot open wide when you felt the pavement become smoother.

Not smooth.

You were bloody flying. (More like hovering but if he were to correct you you'd surely go for the eyes.)

“Sirius Orion Black! Get me back to the earth this instant!”

Sirius just laughed as you scrambled for purchase. He quickly moved one hand to grab your wrists, keeping your arms locked around him. He looked back at you with that stupid charming smirk of his.

“Bams, trust me!” He shouted above the rushing in your ears. “I've never let you down, yeah?”

You hugged him tighter and closed your eyes, but still shook your head. “N-no…”

“Can't hear ya, bams!”

“N-no!” You squeaked and he chuckled.

Leaning back to let his lips brush over your cheek. Merlin strike you both dead, bring you some pity. “Open your eyes.”

You hesitated, your heart pounding wildly in your chest as the wind whipped around you. "Sirius, I swear-"

"Just a quick peek!" He urged, his voice filled with excitement. "I promise it's worth it!"

With a deep breath, you slowly opened your eyes, your grip on him tightening instinctively. The world around you was a blur of colors, but as you focused, you realized you were flying down a winding road lined with trees, their leaves shimmering in shades of red and gold. Oh, those colors you loved. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow over everything, and the crisp autumn air filled your lungs. Hardly above the ground, maybe a foot or so, and carefully raising higher and higher.

“Wow…” You breathed, momentarily forgetting your fear. The beauty of it all was breathtaking. The way the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, made your heart swell with joy.

“See? Not so bad, right?” Sirius shouted over the wind, and you couldn't help but smile.

“It's so pretty!”

Sirius took a second to glance back at your awestruck expression. Quickly looking back to the road and unable to help how he slowly began to smile like a love sick fool.

“Yeah? I have something better to show ya.” He cooed and you slowly nuzzled your nose into the back of his shoulder.

“What do you mean?” You shouted.

He didn’t respond right away, instead, he made a sharp turn down a narrower road, lowering just enough for his wheels to finally hit the ground again. The trees around you seemed to close in, creating a tunnel of vibrant colors as you picked up speed. Your heart raced not just from the adrenaline of the ride, but from the sheer thrill of the moment.

“Hold on tight!” Sirius shouted, and before you could fully process what he meant, he accelerated even faster, the bike roaring as it surged forward. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your face against his back, feeling safe and secured as long as Sirius was there to latch onto..

“Where are we going?” You yelled over the wind, even with the slight fear you were so damn excited..

“Just a little further!” He called back, his tone light and carefree. “Trust me!”

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to relax as you clung to him. The wind whipped through your hair through the opening in the helmet, and you could feel the cool evening air invigorating your senses. It felt freeing, and for a moment, all your worries vanished.

You felt like you unstood Sirius all that much more, able to get behind the thrill of danger if it felt like this. Though, you couldn't help but wonder if your bravery was only because you knew Sirius would be right here.

Eventually, Sirius slowed down and came to a stop in a small clearing. You opened your eyes and looked around, taking in the stunning view. The sun was nearly set, casting a golden glow across a vast field that stretched out before you. The trees framed the horizon beautifully, and the sky was painted with the last remnants of sunset.

“Wow.” You whispered, looking out at the scene before you. “This is incredible.”

Sirius grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “Told you it would be worth it. Found this place a few days ago.”

Finally, he let go of your wrists and you moved to take your helmet off, looking around in awe; the perfect little autumn scene.

“I guess I could live with almost dying to see this.” You muttered and slowly got off the bike. Looking around to get a proper view of the place. It was beautiful, the air was crisp, and the trees hid you away from any who would try and intrude on your time together.

Even as the sun officially set, there was still a magic about the place. A small lamp post over a branch that looked down at an almost dried up lake.

Even its imperfections were beautiful.

You turned to face Sirius, your heart still racing from both the ride and the beauty surrounding you. He was leaning against his bike with his arms crossed, smirking at you. You gave a small laugh and his smirk only grew. “You really know how to make a girl feel alive, don’t you?”

“I know how to keep a bird entertained.” He cheeked with a playful wink, running a hand through his wind swept hair. “But I think I might need to start charging you for these services.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, please. You could put a price on a day like this.”

Sirius stood up and. took a step closer, his eyes sweeping around you as he invaded your space. The intrusion was very much welcome as you instinctively wrapped your arms around his. “What if I demand a favor instead? You know, a life debt or something?”

You raised an eyebrow, giving a dry laugh. “A life debt? What kind of favor are we talking about here, weirdo?”

“Hmm…” He mused in faux thought, putting a finger to his chin dramatically. “How about you agree to go on at least one more date? With me this time. Just to keep the practice up for when the next git comes along.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at his suggestion, but you couldn’t help smiling. “Are you asking me out, Black?”

He shrugged, trying to hide his cheeky little smile. “It's very possible, depending on your answer.”

You rolled your eyes fondly and gave a laugh hum of thought. “I'm not sure, Sirius… what's in it for me?”

He gave an exaggerated gasp, clenching his chest with his free hand. “Wha- huh? What's in it for you?” He dramatized. “Darling, have you seen me?”

You looked away from him but couldn't hold back your smile any longer, and he gave a snicker. “Oh, you totally have been checking me out, haven't you?”

“Oh shut it, Black.” You spat back in a fluster and he just laughed louder.

Sirius leaned in a bit closer, a playful glint in his eyes. “Admit it! You think I’m charming, dashing, and the perfect motorcycle riding dreamboat.”

You crossed your arms, pretending to consider it seriously. “Charming? Maybe. Dashing? That’s a stretch. Perfect motorcycle breamboat? You've lost it. Are you trying to get me grounded for life?”

“Grounded? Pfft!” He scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. “Your father can't even stay angry at you for longer than an hour.”

“It's my mother to fear, Sirius.”

“Oh, she loves me. Thinks I'm just the sweetest gentleman.”

“Right, because running off with her daughter on a motorcycle is complete gentlemanly behavior.” You shot back, rolling your eyes. “Not to mention you did it at night. What will the press say?” You gasped in fake horror and he rolled his eyes.

“Uh huh. After all that, nothing? Not even the Grease stunt?”

You furrowed your brows at him in amused confusion before your jaw dropped and your face lit up. “Sirius Black!”

“The one and only.” He winked at you as you playfully hit his chest.

“You enchanted your bike to fly? To copy the ending in Grease? Oh my stars, you're a sap!”

He bit his cheek and tried to avoid your eyes, clearly flustered beyond belief. You gave a laugh before you looked around and you felt your heart clench helplessly in your chest as another realization hit you.

“This field- like when Laurie confessed to Jo-”

“You said you always wished they got together.” He shrugged and you gawked at him. “... what? Sirius-”

Your eyes snapped around before you hugged his arm tighter. Whispering softly. “Sunflowers?”

“Why would you need those, bambi? You got a sunset.”

“You've.. you've gone mad, Sirius.” You choked on your own sniffles before you quickly dried your tears. “Absolutely loony.”

He turned to face you fully and shook his head. Reaching out to cup your cheeks. “Everytime I see you at night you're crying. Come on.” He cooed and you couldn't help but fall against his chest. Hugging him tighter as he cradled you close.

He brushed your back and you let out a whine as the tears dried up. “It's not fair. I feel like I'm going to explode over here.”

He laughed and raised his hands to cup your jaw on either side. Pushing you to look up at him as he cooed teasingly. “Pretty girl-”

“Oh Merlin, don't call me that.” You huffed and hid your face in his shoulder. He laughed and nuzzled his nose against your hair, lips right against your ear. “Pretty girl. The prettiest girl I've ever seen.”

“You're going to kill me!” You wheezed against his sleeve and he gave your ear tip a gentle kiss.

“One way to make me stop, darling girl.”

“Anything.” You whined and he bit his cheek.

“Just one date, doll.”

“Please.”

[watchoutforthefanfics]

goodbye for now || Reddie (IT)

AVAILABLE ON AO3 (SOON)

Inspiration: ^^^ this amazing art by @you-are-braver-than-you-think + I love you by Billie Eilish

Summary: Richie was ready to leave Derry. But that doesn't mean he's ready to leave everything in it.

TWs: crying, saying goodbye, angst, hurt/no comfort, the Forgetting (idk what to call it) and mention of the 27 years.

[[A/N: This one fucking hits. So be warned. Enjoy :)) ]]

Richie didn't believe in wanderlust. The whole longing for something bigger, better. Or that, one day, he'd want to leave Derry.

Not because it wasn't a shithole, it definitely fucking was. He knew that ever since that summer when their whole lives were changed (he still stared at the scar on his hand sometimes). Even still, he never in his heart felt like he wanted to leave his friends -they'd been through so much shit that he'd knew they would be there forever. Or at least, he thought they would be.

But then, people started leaving. Promising that they would write, that they would call.

And Richie watched their cars leave -chasing them with his bike the first time, waving so enthusiastically he almost fell off. But as time went by, they disappeared and there was nothing. Nothing from anybody. It changed.

The hugs lasted longer, and he cried a little more. All of them did. Because even though they said they'd call, or even fucking write, it never happened. It was like as soon as they left, Derry was just gone. Richie eventually learned to stop waiting.

Richie Tozier didn't believe in wanderlust when he was ten. But as he got older, colleges were reaching out and the world was at his fingertips, and well, teenage Richie Tozier believed in wanderlust. Magazines of monuments and letters from colleges, he wanted to fucking go.

Derry felt like a cage, and Richie was ready to open the door.

But it wasn't that easy.

Not as he stared at the acceptance letter from the University of California Los Angeles. Not as he saved up for an apartment with his shitty icecream parlor job (his parents wanted to help him, but they wanted him to earn it too) wage. Not as he got fucking excited about the idea of making more of himself than dirty bathroom walls (and a carving on the kissing bridge).

And especially not as he looked into the eyes of Eddie Kaspbrak and told him that this was his last summer in Derry.

"What?"

"Eds," he was laughing, but it felt like his heart was ripped open, "-I got accepted into UCLA a couple of months before we graduated. And I'm... starting in the fall."

"What?" Eddie repeated, and he watched his face twist into something Richie fucking hated (hurt), "-Why the fuck didn't you tell me that shit?"

"I didn't want to make this any worse," Richie answered honestly.

"Richie, it's fucking June," Eddie retorted, something deep and heavy in his words, "-and you're leaving in like two months and you didn't fucking tell me?"

Richie had debated it for a long time. But as he watched Eddie live out his senior year, the most free he's ever been, the decision was easy. He wouldn't ruin it for him, and, selfishly, didn't want to ruin it for himself. Make everything sadder than it already fucking was (with 3 missing faces and no contact to show for it). Because he just... god, he wanted this with Eddie. He just wanted to feel fucking happy with Eddie-

And that was a whole other thing. Richie had realized just what exactly Eddie was to him when he was 11 years old and he carved into that fucking bridge. He knew what it was, and what that meant he was. He knew that. And maybe that's why wanted to go to California. And maybe, he just wanted to remember that shit with him happily. Just in case-

"I know, Eds," he breathed out, feet dangling off the Quarry cliff -his shitty car parked just off the road, "-I'm so fucking sorry. But I wasn't going to fuck up our last year."

"It's not like we're fucking dying, idiot," Eddie retorted.

But it kinda was.

Richie knew that he'd fucking call Eddie, or even write him, whatever the fuck he wanted. He knew, if he could help it, he'd talk to him every fucking day, see him every summer, but shit... shit didn't work out that way. Everyone else said the same things, and now... now there were only 3.

Richie hadn't heard from Bev in years. Fuck, Stanley (his best friend before the Losers even existed) hadn't even called him once.

But he hoped to fucking god that wouldn't be him.

"No, we aren't fucking dying, but-" Richie relented, but it felt like a lie, "-our lives are changing. There's no going back to high school, where we're fucking together all the time."

"No, Richie," Eddie's face was pushed into a flat line, "-your life is changing. I'm gonna fucking... rot here in this shithole, by myself-"

"Eds, I told you-"

"I know what you said," Eddie sighed, turning out to the water -Richie wanted him to look at him, "-It's just not fucking happening. You know that. Ma is never-"

"You'll get away from her, Eds," Richie interrupted, "-You can't let her control you forever."

Eddie wrung his hands together and didn't look at him. Richie felt like throwing up, he just knew it would end up this way. He really didn't want to fucking leave Eddie.

They talked about Eddie coming too, running away. But then, his Mom got sick. And well, Eddie would hate himself if he left her -helpless. And Richie spent nearly every day trying to convince him differently, it hurt in his fucking chest when Eddie refused. Every time.

But he needed to fucking leave-

"I can't do that shit without you," Eddie leveled, looking at him, "-I can't... I can't stand up to her without you."

"Yes, you fucking can," Richie argued, shoving into his arm, "-You're brave as shit, Eddie. We fought a demon clown before hitting fucking puberty-"

"I did that with you guys!" Eddie burst, frustrated and Richie might've seen tears in his eyes, "-I did it with everyone. I'm not... Fuck, I can't do it alone. I don't wanna be alone."

Richie frowned, gnawing at his lips, "You're not alone, Eds. You'll never be fucking alone as long as I'm alive-"

Eddie was just staring at him, big brown eyes dusted with tears. Richie felt like his heart was ripped out of his chest, it just fucking hurt-

"-Eddie, even if I... even if I don't do anything like call or write letters, I'm still here for you-"

"Don't-" Eddie frowned, "-Don't say that shit."

"-Eddie, no, you need to hear this-" Richie leveled, putting his hands on his shoulders, "-If I don't talk to you, it's not up to me. I don't... I don't know why it's happening. But I swear to fucking god, I would come back to you, or at least fucking talk to you, okay?"

Eddie was crying now, wiping at his eyes like he was much younger (Richie flashed back a moment), "Yeah, okay."

The summer was, as expected, bittersweet. Richie knew it would be, but he kept it light-hearted or tried to with everyone not just Eddie. But still, it was heavy. In the clubhouse, which was so hard to be in now, there was something in the air. It sucked, but it was gonna happen. He knew it was gonna happen. So, he tried to make it the best summer of his life, of all of their lives.

He thinks it worked. He thinks he had a good impact. He thinks they'll remember this, or he'll try his fucking hardest to.

And then, it was August.

Richie had been packing up since late July, and Eddie made himself comfortable helping. ("You need to be fucking organized so you know where your shit is, asshole.") And Richie let him. He was pretty sure he'd let Eddie Kaspbrak do anything, honestly. So, he'd labeled boxes and argued why he "shouldn't take fucking everything you own, Richie", and danced around just what was happening. They didn't talk about that conversation over the summer, they didn't even touch the fact that he was leaving -not even over his packed fucking boxes.

Eddie just didn't seem to want to touch it, and Richie honestly didn't either. This felt normal, the bickering, even though the reason they were doing it all hung over everything like a fucking storm cloud. They still acted normal, like Richie wasn't leaving, like he was gonna stay right there. They were gonna stay. Together.

He wanted that so bad it burned, but Richie fucking needed out. It was time.

And then, it was the day.

Richie was silently packing up the last box, and taping it shut. And Eddie scribbled on the front with his insanely perfect handwriting -comics.

It was quiet, too quiet. Eddie was still crouched down, staring at the box, the words. And Richie was staring at him. Unabashedly. He thinks he should be allowed to now. And the thought crossed his mind of finally telling him, bubbled along his skin. As he watched Eddie's eyes trace the letters for the 10th time, it felt like it was on the tip of his tongue.

Richie cleared his throat -voice a little scratchy, turning toward his old bed (grabbing something under the mattress), an extra comic. A special one.

Wordlessly, Richie extended it forward.

Eddie eyed him for a second, standing up -glance landing on the comic.

"Are you fucking serious?" Eddie hissed out, "-You forgot one? You're such a-"

"Eds," Richie leveled -seriously, extending it forward -shaking it a little.

Eddie's lips snapped shut, and his eyes dropped from Richie's to the comic in his hand.

It was one they used to fight over when they were younger. He remembered particularly being on the hammock, Eddie's head on his shoulder (cussing him out when he moved too fast, but doing the very same when he moved too slow), and peeking glances when he was focused on reading. Because he was Eddie, and Richie felt a lot then. Still does, but he knows what it is now.

Eddie raised a hand, hesitantly, and pulled the book into his hands. Naturally, he started flipping through it -red pen sticking out on the page.

"I wrote notes," Richie pointed awkwardly, "-like um, like commentary. So..."

Eddie was silent, flipping through the pages -not looking up. Richie just kept talking.

"-So, it was like I was still here. Saying stupid shit."

Eddie laughed a little, something caught up in his throat. He swallowed once, heavily, eyes blinking a little too fast.

Fuck, don't cry, Eds. If you cry, I don't know if I can fucking leave.

"If you talk about fucking my Mom, I'm burning it."

Richie laughed, something heavy on your shoulders, "Well, you better get the fucking matches, Eds."

Eddie laughed a little more, finally looking up at him. The laugh faded, his smile slipping, and his eyes were the same big ass brown ones, but now they were teary. And he was just staring at him, his face falling further each second that passed. Richie felt like he was ripping out his heart and leaving it here with Eddie. It hurt so fucking bad-

And then, before Richie could even blink, Eddie was in his arms -face shoved into his shoulder.

Richie's eyes were watery now, his chest aching, and he wrapped his arms around him, unhesitatingly. He could feel Eddie's shaky breaths against him, wracking through his lungs. And Richie pulled him tighter, pressing the side of his face into Eddie's. God, he never wanted to forget him, please don't let me fucking forget him-

"Promise you'll write?" Eddie breathed out, heavy breaths against his shoulder.

And even though, they'd talked about the outcomes and the fact that, if he didn't, it wasn't up to him, something was happening. Richie still answered the same.

Squeezing him a little tighter, he whispered -maybe through bleary tears, "I promise."

They stayed like that for a while, and Richie felt it on the tip of his tongue. It almost came out with every breath.

Eddie, I love you. I think I've loved you my whole life.

It didn't come out.

Not as he and his Dad and Eddie packed all his boxes into his shitty ass car's trunk. Not as they forced his trunk closed. Not as Eddie angrily told him to take the necessary stops, don't skip meals, and stay hydrated ("Don't fall asleep on the road, dipshit."). Not as his Dad grabbed his gas can and filled Richie's tank. Not as his Mom hugged him, crying. Not as his Dad patted his shoulder and told him to "Take on the world, son". Not as he, Ben, Mike, and Eddie crowded together into a hug so tight that it hurt. Not as Eddie threw himself into Richie again (on his own), all angry edges and sharp pointy elbows ("Promise?" "Promise."). Not as he pulled himself into the driver's seat, aching like he had ripped off a limb. Not as he stared into the rearview mirror, watching as his friends waved and Eddie stared -waving so desolately that it was like he was going to war. Not even as he pulled out of Derry, and Eddie followed the car as far as he could (Ben and Mike pulling him back). Not as the trees flew by his windows, and his eyes teared up -road blurry and sobs wracking through his chest.

But as he got further along, it lessened. He stopped feeling so heavy, wondering why he felt that way before anyway. The towns passed by and he got out, hitting tourist spots (taking pictures and not being sure who to send them to). And then, he was in California, and everything felt fresh.

Pulling up to his apartment building, he trucked up the stairs over and over -boxes piling up in the empty room. When it was all inside, Richie laid down on the floor -letting a big breath out of his lungs. And then, he moved on autopilot.

Digging into his boxes, he found a piece of paper and pencil, pulled a box toward him, and set it down -throwing the pencil to the paper.

Richie blinked once.

He was supposed to write something, he felt it in his bones but he couldn't remember what, or maybe who to write to. But he was fucking supposed to, it was so... visceral.

Richie felt so... He felt something he'd never felt before, an ache in his bones. And just as everything seemed so happy, there was something nagging at him-

He scribbled along the paper, just what he felt (no header, no name).

I think I loved you.

Shaking his head once, Richie blinked and grabbed the paper, crumpling it up, and throwing it into a corner (the apartment really was fucking empty). This feeling would go away. If it mattered, he'd know.

And then, a year went by.

Eddie Kaspbrak arrived in New York, unpacking as soon as he got into his apartment. Digging through his boxes, his fingers dusted along some paper, maybe a magazine. Why the hell did I pack a magazine?

He pulled it out and eyed it for a second.

An old comic book. His eyes flicked along a red pen on the front, Return to Richie Tozier. Eddie pulled it open, skimming over the pages -hinging on red marks. They were shitty jokes, he noted.

Did I get this from some fucking second-hand store? Why? It's fucking ruined.

Eddie shut it and stared at the name again. Richie Tozier. He wondered for a second who he was, like a lot of people did with original owners of their shit, and felt something nagging in his mind. Richie Tozier, he repeated.

Nothing.

He pressed his lips together and although he didn't know shit about it (or why he fucking had it), he carefully placed it onto a table -away from anything else. He'd look at it later, maybe figure out why he kept it.

It ended up forgotten, slid into a bookshelf.

None of it would make sense. Not until 2 phone calls, 2 trips, and the hitting of a gong.

Then... Then, it would make a lot of fucking sense.

[oliversrarebooks]

The amount I would like to see Jameson and Alex have a high society slap fight is more than a little lol

Masterlist

March 1920

tw: mind control, captivity, references to abuse

"Good evening, Lord Alexander!" said Miriam as she opened the door, beckoning him inside nervously.

"Good evening, Miriam. You seem agitated -- is everything all right?"

Miriam sighed with a smile. "Madam's overworking herself again, sir. It's not my place to overstep as her thrall, but I'm concerned about her health. I'm glad you came to call. She listens to you, sir."

"Do you really believe that? I don't," said Lex, chuckling. "Regardless, I don't think you're overstepping. I think it's very good for you to care for your madam. Lily needs people looking out for her."

Miriam beamed like she'd won the lottery. "Thank you, sir."

Lex allowed Miriam to lead him into the parlor. He was quite fond of Lily's latest thrall. She had remained sharp under the enthrallment so far -- no surprise, given how skilled Lily was at her craft. A good sign for her future, he thought.

"Oh, Lex, there you are," said Lily, who was lounging in an undignified manner on the couch, surrounded by magazines and bits of yarn and fabric. "I'm glad you were able to pull yourself out of your book-cave long enough to come calling. I've been drowning in work lately, and I need someone to socialize with who isn't a thrall I'm hypnotizing, or I might lose my own mind."

"Rough week, then," he said, settling down in a plush chair. Nearby, Miriam sat down in a chair in the corner, taking up an embroidery project.

"It's been one thing after another. I think the long winter has given everyone cabin fever, and they've all collectively decided that they're dissatisfied with their perfectly functional thralls. You won't believe what I've had to put up with." 

"Such as?" Lex leaned in.

"The most ridiculous complaints. 'He taps his foot while he reads.' 'She turns the radio on too loud.' As though they need me to solve that," she said with a frustrated groan. "The worst one was 'his human food smells bad.' I turned him away -- 'sorry, sir, I can't do anything about the fact that your human thrall requires human food.'"

Miriam made a strange noise of distress.

"What is it?" Lily asked.

"Does my human food smell bad?"

"Oh, no, of course not! You haven't done a thing wrong, Miriam. It's the vampires who are being unreasonable."

"It's awful that they treat their thralls like that," said Lex. "What ever happened to treating your thralls with dignity?"

"Exactly, you understand. Speaking of which -- " Whatever Lily was about to say was cut off by the doorbell ringing. "Oh, for crying out loud, who could that be? I cleared my schedule today."

Lex, having an uneasy feeling about this, followed Lily to the door, and was none too happy to see the perturbed visage of Jameson, a vampire he truly despised. He was gripping a smaller man by the shoulders, an unfortunate thrall who had clearly been crying.

"And what do you want?" said Lily bluntly.

"Is that any way to treat a customer?" he said.

"You're not a customer until you tell me what you want and I agree to it," she said. "And in case you didn't know, asking me to work on such short notice will cost you an extra 20%."

"I'm aware," he said. "I'm at my wit's end with this thrall. He's supposed to be fully mindwiped, but he keeps sniffling and making the most obnoxious whining noises."

"What on earth did you do to that poor man?" asked Lex. He'd never been able to stand the company of vampires who preferred their thralls to be little better than cattle, especially if the vampire in question abused their innocent humans. That dislike was mutual -- vampires like Jameson rarely mingled with those like Lex who believed they had an obligation to give their thralls a good life.

Jameson scowled at Lex. "It's none of your business, is it? I'm here to make a business transaction with Miss Lily and certainly not with you."

"Fine," she said with an annoyed huff. "Let me see your thrall. You can sit in the parlor until I'm done."

The thrall's eyes held a spark of recognition when he looked at Lily. Considering what a thorough job she did with the mindwipes -- preferring not to have to do it twice, and trying to minimize the thrall's suffering -- he must have been under a lot of stress to wake up enough to regain memories. Damn that Jameson.

No doubt, Jameson would rather not deal with Lily at all, but although he was in possession of a strong vampiric aura, his enthralling abilities were known to be below average. He had no choice but to hire an expert to work with his thralls, lest he destroy their minds utterly and leave himself responsible for a comatose bloodbag.

As Lily took the thrall into her workroom, Jameson sat down in the parlor with a sour look on his face. In her corner, Miriam was staring at him with a haunted expression. Lex wasn't sure if she actually knew Jameson, or if she saw how he treated his thrall and rightfully regarded him as a threat. He gave the poor girl a look as if she were lower than a bug, and she shrank further into her seat.

The humane and sympathetic thing to do would be to send Miriam out of the room until Jameson left. But Lex, annoyed at Jameson's rotten attitude and the interruption of his social call, couldn't help but do something a bit petty that he knew would annoy the other vampire.

He pulled up a chair next to Miriam. "This embroidery you're working on is very intricate. Can you show me your work?"

Miriam smiled. At least she seemed comforted by having Lex nearby, distracting her from the vampire glaring daggers at her. "Oh, yes, sir, of course," she said, showing him the pattern she'd carefully cut from a magazine. "It's a skirt with flowers and birds all up and down it. The original pattern has green leaves and blue birds, but I had this lovely rust-colored fabric to use, and I thought it would go very well with autumn leaves and red birds, like cardinals."

"You have a good eye for color, Miriam, and it's coming along splendidly," said Lex.

"Thank you, sir, I truly appreciate that!"

"Hmph." Jameson sniffed.

"Is there some problem?" said Lex.

"I just think it's a terrible shame that a vampire so gifted with conditioning chooses to keep her thrall in such disgraceful condition," he said, with a pointed glance to Miriam, who clutched Lex's arm fearfully. "She could easily erase her thralls and keep them in a far more agreeable state where they don't require entertainment or attention, and yet, she chooses this. You'd think her sire would have taught her better."

Miriam gripped Lex's arm hard enough to hurt, and Lex regretted that he'd provoked Jameson instead of sending her out. "Sir -- if I displease you --"

"You haven't displeased anyone, Miriam," Lex said, patting her hand in a comforting gesture. "You're an excellent thrall, and your madam also thinks so. She tells me all the time. You don't need to listen to what Lord Jameson says."

"Of course you'd think that," said Jameson. "That's about what I'd expect from a thrall-screwer."

Lex glared at Jameson with a simmering rage. "I'd suggest you be quiet, lest you say something you'll regret."

"Why would I regret speaking the truth?" said Jameson. "We all know you fell for that nasty little blond thing. A revolting thrall, and no better as a vampire, if you ask me."

Lex's temper flared. He was obviously baiting Lex for a confrontation, looking to stir shit for his own amusement. Lex really should ignore the meaningless squawking of an ignorant asshole just trying to get a rise out of him.

Instead, he stood from his chair, crossed the parlor in a flash, and slapped Jameson across the face as hard as he could. 

Jameson looked stunned for a moment, the bright red mark emblazoned across his cheek, then started to laugh. "And I thought you considered yourself civilized! Well, if that's how you like it..." There was a flash in his eyes as he flared his vampiric aura, and Lex could feel it, like rodents skittering along his limbs and gnawing at his flesh, like a thousand beady red eyes boring into him. The sensation made the hair on the back of Lex's neck stand up.

It was an aura that could easily subdue a lesser vampire, but Lex hadn't survived this long in this city by allowing any upstart vampire to best him, especially with his honor at stake. He took a deep breath, pushing his own aura outward in an inexorable wave. He was a storm on the ocean, waves and surf pounding, wooden ship cracking beneath your feet, the feeling of being pulled down into the dark and briny depths with no hope of escape.

Jameson furrowed his brow and intensified his efforts, but this was a battle he could not win, and it was so satisfying when his facade cracked and he showed his first sign of fear --

-- at least until both of them were swept off their feet by an even more powerful force of will.

"Hey!" Lily bellowed from the doorway. "What the devil do you two think you're doing?"

Lex looked at her sheepishly, not wanting to admit he'd been having a pointless tussle with with her customer. Jameson primarily looked annoyed that their fight had been interrupted.

"You two were laying it on so thick that I could feel your auras in my workroom. I don't know how you expect me to put a thrall under in those conditions." She went to comfort Miriam, who clung onto her skirt. "And you've upset my Miriam."

"Sorry, Lily," said Lex, and mostly meant it. At least, he did very much regret upsetting Miriam, who didn't deserve to be caught in this crossfire at all.

Lily sighed. "Lex, take Miriam to the kitchen and help her calm down," she said. "And as for you, Lord Jameson, you will sit quietly until my work is done, and I'm tacking on a surcharge for that little outburst."

"You can't be serious," he said, slamming his hands on the table. "It was Lord Alexander who --"

"Then you're free to take your thrall and leave."

Jameson settled back down onto the couch with a huff, like a petulant child. "Fine. Do what you will."

With that settled, Lex ushered a still-frightened Miriam into the kitchen as Lily returned to her work. "I'm sorry for being so sensitive, sir," she said.

"Don't be, not at all. I'm sorry for provoking that rat Jameson." He handed Miriam a handkerchief, which she used to wipe tears from her eyes. "You can relax here. He won't bother you any more. Now, is there any kind of snack you might like?"

"Sir, you don't need to --"

"It's my pleasure. The least I can do." He pulled out a chair and beckoned her to sit. "What would you like?"

"May I have strawberries with sugar, sir?"

"Certainly," he said, relieved that she asked for a dish he knew how to prepare, his knowledge of human cooking spotty at best. He found the fresh strawberries in the icebox, and made quick work of cutting them up and sprinkling them with sugar. 

Miriam's eyes lit up as she dug into the  sweet berries. "Thank you very much, sir!"

Lex settled down into the chair across from her as she ate. She was still a fairly bright thrall, but he knew that his sire would have her in his sights sooner rather than later. Lily would wipe her memories of the trauma, and her deterioration would begin. A slow moving tragedy, one he'd seen play out quite a few times by now.

Even so, she was certainly in a better position than that man in Lily's workshop. Her re-enthrallment of him would no doubt be a mercy compared to being lucid in Jameson's grasp.

What must it be like...?

He pushed the errant thought from his mind, not wanting to stir up dusty memories of his own enthrallment, so many years ago now.

Masterlist

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