#pen-pal bottle

[mylittleredgirl]

this is what the people want

nutrek writers b like 'if we dont find someone to oppress RIGHT NOW nobody is gonna watch star trek' which fr isnt the case bc if star trek: picard had been about picards life on the vineyard and literally did nothing but be a story about him making the most delicious wines and characters from other treks occasionally visiting him i would have watched the whole damn thing multiple times over

[velnoni]

Jesus, I LOVE how you interpret ford. Can NOT emphasize how much I enjoyed reading ur hcs for demi!ford! (and then I also have a much more personal appreciation as someone who’s prob demi. so, I’m excitedly shaking your shoulders a little.)

So how would things progress romantically for demi!Ford and reader, building off ur last set of hcs??

It's so nice to hear this, honestly 💓 and ofc, I'm glad you can enjoy these hcs on a deeper level! This ask is also gonna be a long one so buckle up.

Ford x Reader Romance Headcanons

Link to previous headcanon mentioned in ask

As mentioned in the last post, the two of you would consider a romantic relationship after Ford finished traveling with his brother. Something like traveling the world for anomalies would definitely take a minimum of a year to be frank. And you genuinely missed the guy. You missed the way he fixed his glasses (why doesn't he get a new pair?), the sassiness that came with him debuking theories, and his deep voice. Work wasn't the same without him.

Seeing postcards of him and Stanley always made you happy. And sometimes you would trace his clean penmanship in the letters he would mail to you. There would be days when you would receive multiple pages consisting of findings, personal life, and so forth. And you'd do your best by updating him about the Mystery Shack, your job & your own life in return. Because it was mail, there would be delays in the messages, but nothing neither of you could handle.

As time passed, the letters continued to pile in your drawer. You couldn't help but wonder if Ford and his brother would make it home safe. How does puncing an octopus in the eye even save the day? Those twins were such rascals, you swear.

Sometimes, you will dry out flowers and spray them with a light fragrance before mailing the letters away. Flower language is a wonderful thing, and on a particular night, you placed a chrysanthemum in the mail for the twins' safety. You were sure Ford would understand immediately.

The next letter you got back had a hydrangea. At some point as the days grew longer, you'd recognize your feelings towards Ford, especially after Mabel learned one summer you were the pen pal Ford spoke so fondly of.

When the brother touched back to land, you didn't find out until a couple of days after, both twins greeting you after work. You were incredibly excited over their return, noticing the differences in their behavior and how happy they both looked. The sea did them well, especially Ford. If your eyes lingered on him for a second longer, he didn't notice, but Stan will.

When Stan retires to bed, he shoots you two a wink, you being perplexed and Ford grumbling from his chest at his brother's implications. With the two of you alone, it reminded you both of when y'all started hanging outside of work. The night consisted of jokes, bantering, stories, and one too many cans of soda.

"May I be frank with you for a moment?" he asked. You turned your head in his direction and nodded, "What is it?" Ford would look away for a moment and then clasp his hands together, playing with his fingers, a tick of his when nervous. "S-Stan had told me recently you seemed interested in me. Ahem, well, allow me to elaborate. Romantically. Typically, I don't listen to Stan's gibberish, but he pointed out some discrepancies in your behavior." You made a small show of it by looking at Ford brown eyes and the way his peppered eyebrow creased in presumed concern. Leave to Stan to catch you red-handed. You reach out for an open bottle of soda and sip on the lukewarm contents. Ford was kind enough to be frank with you, and you appreciated that, a pro from a man of science.

"Yeah well...he's not exactly wrong." You swish the soda around in the can, wishing the sloshing sound could be more distracting than Ford's lips parting in surprise. "I genuinely do like you. You're a good man and company, Stanford. Got a few skeletons in the closet, but who doesn't? You're kind, enthusiastic about your work, and you're doing your hardest to move on. It's so easy to speak to you, and I really enjoyed your letters. It made life more bearable, y'know? And yes, I also see you as cute, but that's beside the point."

You glance at Ford, noticing how the tips of his ear were beet red and gave a tiny smile of reassurance. "Look, I wasn't planning on telling you at all. If this makes you feel uncomfortable, I can—" your cut off mid sentence when the older twin raised his hand to stop you.

"I'm sorry, I—" he coughs a bit and stares at you, clearly ready to speak. You prepare yourself to be let down gently. "I...I also feel this way towards you as well." You could hear the anxiousness in his voice and see how his lips turned down.

He would continue to confess about how you were someone he didn't want to let go of. But that even though he was confident enough that he had romantic interest, he was unsure how to go about it or if he wanted to tap into the potential of such a thing. It's been so long...

You reassure him he doesn't have to do anything and that you're happy he would be so open about it towards you. You can't help but chuckle at the irony of it all— the both of you felt like teenagers. He questions you about relationships, your experience, expectations, and so forth, and you answer to the best of your ability.

In the end, you two decided to give it a go. For Ford, he would like to go slow with the dating process, preferring outings that didn't require much physical contact. This could consist of book dates, picnics, movie marathons, dinner, etc.

For the most part, this worked great, Ford is very calculating even while dating, but you hope he'll be more comfortable eventually. It would be months until Ford kisses your cheek, and if it weren't for the scratchiness of his stubble, you wouldn't have noticed. It happened after watching a movie, and you returned the kiss. Ford will shyly cup his large hand into yours.

Ford at first will overthink everything in the beginning of the relationship, wondering if he's competent enough for you or if he's asking for too much. You reassure him that's not the case but sometimes he'll worry.

He's a superstitious man at heart and would prefer for your relationship to be quiet but not out of embarrassment. Half a year will pass before he would be okay enough to cuddle with you in a bed (clothes on). The most you two would do is give small kisses and tight hugs that led into the best naps.

He's an old man, he's bringing flowers when he picks you up for date night because it's classy and he enjoys the smile on your face when you smell them. Sometimes, he will offer you a ride home as well.

Please don't play Mario Kart with him...

He likes when you give him back massages (sweater on) and will gladly return the gesture.

Arguing with him is a nightmare, though. Man is stubborn as an ox and will not listen until you both properly calmed. And even then, he has his pride to uphold—something that has to run in the Pines family. Try to bribe him with hot chocolate if there needs to be a sit down.

Are sexual encounters on the table? Yes but he'd appreciate a discussion about it and if he even feels comfy enough to do so at the moment. He's trying his best to be more open minded and honest, you're his safe place. He's the type of guy to schedule sexual intimacy and no I'm not joking, he's a stickler for time. You don't know whether to be flabbergasted or amused. Probably both.

All in all, expect a simple and healthy relationship with Ford. He's learning just like you are.

Thank you for the ask! Please like and reblog, I'd greatly appreciate it.

[wildrangers]

This Town is Fake, But You're the Real Thing // Matt Smith

This is based on an anon ask from a few weeks ago requesting a story with Matt and a HOTD costar with an age gap. For context, reader is just shy of 30 to Matt's 41. It ended up being longer than expected but that's not shocking🙂

Tropes & Topics: miscommunication, mutual pining, will they/won't they, age gap, resolved angst, fluffy end

Word Count: 2.8K

You’d been dreading and anticipating this filming day for weeks now. You’d been cast as Alys in Season 2 of House of the Dragon and anxiety has been your primary emotion since you received the news. On the obvious side, the show’s massive and will ideally propel your career forward with dizzying speed after toiling away for a decade on small projects. A less obvious, more personal element of the matter is your equally long crush on Matt Smith. You’d first seen him as Doctor Who when you were a teen and you’d become madly infatuated. You nearly drove yourself mad while waiting for filming to start, trying to get your emotions under control before stepping on set. It helped and hurt that he’s such a lovely person in real life.

Within a week of signing your contract, a beautiful gift basket had arrived at your door. You’d curiously brought it inside and nearly dropped the champagne bottle when you found the note: Cheers to being scene partners soon! Can’t wait, Matt. Your first course of action was to tear into the chocolate covered strawberries and your second was to frantically call your manager to yell at her for hiding this surprise from you. You’d sent back a thank you note, which is how, somehow, you two became pen pals in the months leading up to filming. 

In your letters, you two discussed the show and your ideas for your character’s relationship dynamics all while Matt kindly provided guidance when you shared your anxieties about joining such a well-respected and beloved show. By the time you arrived on set, you felt more settled–Matt would be a professional support and colleague, your childish crush left in the past. After all, you’d had feelings for your teenage self’s idea of who Matt Smith was. This Matt is real, kind, your coworker, and 12 years your senior. 

All of this logic dissipated when you heard his painfully familiar voice calling your name across the set you were exploring before filming began. He quickly approached you, grinning broadly as he pulled you into a warm hug. You, thankfully, recovered your senses swiftly, returning his hug before somehow carrying on a normal conversation with him. Several months into filming now, that first day is a blur but you’d left a good enough first impression that you two became close throughout shooting. 

You clung to your logic, desperately fighting back the crush that was rapidly developing into actual feelings throughout this time. Your chemistry on set was palpable and mercurial but in your trailers or sharing a drink after work, your relationship was filled with laughter, stimulating conversation, and affection. You’d bonded over your love for horror movies, jokingly plotting one to star in together in the future. You respected him, this project, and yourself too much to risk all that you’d built for a relic from your teenagedom.

Or, at least that’s what you repeat in your mind as you pace nervously in your trailer, practicing your lines quietly to yourself. Today’s scene is the last for you two to shoot and it’s by far the most daunting for you mentally. Alys and Daemon have a tense relationship, clearly drawn together despite Daemon’s suspicions and Alys’ blurry intentions. This scene is the culmination of that tension and while nothing physically occurs between them, an emotional vulnerability is needed for it to be satisfying for the viewers. 

You hear a knock on your door as the PA summons you to set. You take a deep, steadying breath before following her onto the lot. Harrenhal’s lot is constantly damp and by the time you’re on the actual set, your dress is clinging uncomfortably to you. 

“There she is! How are you feeling, love?” Matt questions, squeezing your shoulders soothingly. 

“Nervous, you?” you admit and his smile turns downward.

“What’s making you nervous? How can I help?”

“It just feels like a big scene, that’s all.” 

“Darling, we’ve done so many big scenes. What else is going on?” he pushes and you sigh, nervously fidgeting with the ends of your wig. 

“I guess it’s weird this is it, you know? It’s been months of us working together and after today we’re basically done. It’s daunting, I want to make sure the relationship feels right at its conclusion for the season.”

“It will, I promise. You’re brilliant and we’ve worked so hard to cultivate this dynamic–we know exactly what to do together, yeah?”

“But do we?” you question and immediately regret it. His brows furrowed as you kick yourself for letting your confused personal feelings get in the way of the work. “Never mind, I’m just psyching myself out. You’re right, as always.”

Matt opens his mouth to reply but the director calls you to your marks and all you can do is squeeze his hand before going to your spot, closing your eyes and banishing yourself from your mind–you are Alys, he is Daemon, you two are fighting because tensions are coming to a head. 

You two do several takes but something feels off. You’re both hitting your lines and your marks but there’s something missing, which you’re obsessively trying to solve as shooting’s paused for lunch. As you finish up your smorgasbord of snacks, your favorite craft service meal, Matt approaches, his eyes focused on you. 

“Everything okay?” 

“Do you trust me?” he asks, his eyes tunneling into yours with an intensity you’ve never seen from him off camera. 

“Of course” you reply without hesitation and he nods. 

“I’m doing a slight improv, will you follow my lead?” 

“Of course” you repeat, just as the director calls you back to set. 

Your nerves have returned but you’re eager to see Matt’s idea play out–you’ve both improved different moments over the course of filming and they often lead to your best takes. 

The director calls action and your lines repeat as they have all day long. You’re lost in the moment, noting Matt approaching you much more closely than previously. This must be it–he wants more physical tension in the scene and you kick yourself for not thinking of it yourself. Suddenly, Matt’s hands roughly grab your arms pulling your chests flush together. 

Your gasp is real, as is the way your own hands rise to grip his shoulders as he towers over you. Your Alys brain kicks in and you switch to struggling against him, eager to get away from this man who could easily overpower you. 

“Don’t leave” he breathes out quietly, a line not in the script, his eyes earnest and glossy with emotion.

“You know as well as I why I must, no matter what we may…sense in one another” you ad-lib and though it fits Alys’ intentions, your own desires easily bleed through. 

“And what is it you sense in me?” 

“Danger…lust” you sigh, eyes instinctually dropping to his mouth. Your heart’s in your throat, this is the most you two have leaned into the characters’ sexual tension. “And what do you see within me?”

“Temptation…damnation” he replies fervently. You two hold each other’s gaze and you feel your eyes growing misty as are Matt’s before you. He begins to lean in and as much as you desperately want to give in, Alys would never, so you forcefully push your hands into his chest until a few feet separate you. 

Your breathing is labored, your face feels flushed, and you nearly forget the final scripted line that concludes the scene, “I told you you’d die in this castle, Daemon…I refuse to die with you.” 

A single tear escapes Daemon’s eyes and you turn on your heels, head high as you leave the room before the director yells “Cut! Holy shit you two, thank god we had coverage on both of you. That was perfect. I���m going to call Ryan to review the changes but that was brilliant. Hang tight for a few minutes, okay?” 

You nod, dizzy with emotion. You can’t force yourself to look in Matt’s direction, the vulnerability and intensity of the scene making you feel exposed. Instead, you stumble over to craft services asking for a mug of tea to settle your nerves. You take a deep swig and feel some of the tension leave your shoulders but the butterflies in your stomach refuse to follow their lead. You hear someone approaching and know before you hear his deep voice saying your name that it’s Matt. 

“Are you okay? Was that too much?” he questions and you force yourself to turn around.

“I’m fine, it was brilliant.”

“Then why do you look so shaken?” he questions, hands going to rest on your shoulders, as they have countless times over the last few months. You find yourself stepping out of his hold, feeling too raw to stomach being touched right now. Your thoughts are racing and your heart is pounding and being this close to him is too much. 

“It was just intense, that’s all.” 

“It was, wasn’t it?” he agrees, his eyes boring into your face despite your refusal to meet his gaze. You simply nod, taking another sip of tea. 

“It felt real” you breath out and immediately regret it. “Sorry, that’s silly, I didn’t mean…” you trail off, unsure how to express all that you’re thinking and feeling right now. 

“I don’t think it’s silly” he replies quietly and you shut your eyes. You have to be imagining things, he can’t possibly be admitting to feeling similarly to you; it’s impossible, for countless reasons. You’re saved from responding by the director calling you back to set and you quickly walk past Matt, mug firmly in your grip as you try to steady yourself to appear professional.

“Ryan loved it guys, that’s a wrap on Daemon and Alys at Harrenhal for season two!” he cheers and the crew bursts into claps and whistles. You force a smile and express your gratitude towards the director and crew before quickly excusing yourself to your trailer, not waiting around to see what Matt has to say to everyone. 

Your team must feel your anxious energy because they get you out of costuming, hair, and makeup in record time. You say your farewells, frantically getting into one of the waiting cars that will whisk you away to your hotel. You regret, on some level, not saying goodbye to Matt but you promise yourself you’ll text him in the morning and meet for breakfast. 

As the elevator rises you text Emma, Hey, crazy day, room service together tonight?

You toss your phone on the bed without waiting for a reply, peeling off your clothes and jumping in the shower. You just need to wash this day away. Once you feel yourself fully reinhabiting your body again, you turn off the water, dry yourself, and do your skincare before changing into sweats. A knock sounds from your door and you feel more tension leaving your body as you go to answer it, assuming you’ll find Emma on the other side. 

Your heart stutters when you’re instead met by Matt’s anxious gaze, his hands feverishly running through his hair. “Matt?” 

“You just left” he replies, voice tight with an emotion you can’t place.

“I…I was tired, I just wanted to unwind” you say, offering this half truth. His intense stare makes you fear you aren’t convincing him. 

“Can I come in, please? Just for a moment. I can’t help but feel like I did something wrong.” 

You nod shallowly, stepping to the side before closing the door behind him. An awkward silence descends and you perch nervously on the foot of your bed. Your phone buzzes beside you and you glance over to see their reply Can’t sorry, I’ve got a night shoot–tomorrow?

“Do you need to get that?” Matt’s voice draws you back to the moment in front of you and you watch as he paces the floor.

“No, Matt, but can you please sit down? You’re making me nervous.” 

“I’m sorry, I just…I keep replaying that final take and what you said afterwards and how you disappeared and I can’t help but feel like I’ve crossed a line or upset you.”

“Matt, you heard the director, it was a brilliant move. It worked beautifully, why would that upset me?” 

“Because it felt real” he replies and you freeze at your own words repeated back to you. “But it couldn’t have been, could it? We were both in wigs and calling each other different names.” 

You don’t know what to say so Matt plows ahead, “Not when we’re friends and colleagues and I’m old enough to be your father.”

You're surprised by the snort that erupts from you, “Matt, that’s a little dramatic. You are not old enough to be my father for Christ’s sake.”

“Well I’m certainly too old to be your partner” he replies quietly, finally stopping his pacing with his back to you. “Far too old to kid myself into thinking you’d be interested in me that way.” 

You freeze, your breath stolen from your chest at his words. “Matt?” you question tentatively, rising to place a gentle hand on his shoulder blade but he moves from your touch. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry. See? I knew this was stupid and unprofessional and putting you in an uncomfortable position and I value our friendship but still went ahead and blew it up and–”

“Matt” you say firmly and he turns at the stern tone of your voice. His eyes are sad as they meet yours and the slump of his shoulders is so un-Matt-like that it breaks your heart a little. You step forward and place your hand to his cheek, a thrill racing through you as he closes his eyes, nuzzling into your touch. You stay like that for a moment, each of you seemingly nervous to break this fragile moment. Finally, he releases a deep breath and his hands land on your hips as his eyes open again. “This isn’t a good idea.” 

“Why?” he questions, stepping closer until your bodies are flush together.

You raise your other hand, gently moving a strand of hair out of his face, “Because I’m just…me and you’re…you’re you, Matt, and you’ll realize that quickly. You’ll also realize that even though I seem to have my life together, I’m ultimately just shy of 30 and still trying to figure shit out. You’re settled, you know who you are and what you want. I can’t offer you the same in return and that’s unfair.” 

Your admission hangs in the air between you for a long moment, “But you’d want to? If I told you I’m not remotely concerned about anything you just said?” 

“I would but only if you believe me when I tell you I think what you said before is bullshit too.” 

He smiles fondly at you, his calloused thumb rising to skim your cheekbone down to your chin, before raising to faintly trace the shape of your mouth. Your heart’s in your throat as you rise on your toes slightly, offering your parted lips to him in offering. His hand curls into your hair as he painstakingly slowly joins your lips together. 

Your heart settles at the rightness of the kiss, the care with which he handles you. He allows you to lead the way, your mouths learning the feel of each other before you brush your tongue against his mouth which he gladly opens to you. As your tongues twine, you surrender to the moment, fully leaning your weight into him as you pull him as close as humanly possible. He returns your eagerness with his own and you’re pleased at the soft groan that falls from his lips into yours. When you finally pull away, he drops his forehead to yours as you catch your breaths that mingle in the air between you. 

The peaceful moment stretches onward, neither of you wanting to end it. However, your stomach finally does as it rumbles loudly causing Matt to laugh. “I always tell you, just snacking all day is not enough, darling.”

“It’s not snacking, it’s a personalized charcuterie board” you protest, chuckling at this long-standing disagreement. 

“Room service? I can’t bear the thought of not being within two feet of you the rest of the night” he says and you nod, chuckling at his admission. 

“First Omen?” you question and he scoffs, pulling you onto the bed with him as he grabs the remote.

“Absolutely not, we’re watching the original first” he insists and you hum your assent, curling into his side and you’re struck by how natural it feels. “Youth, these days” he sighs, jokingly. 

“You really know how to ruin a moment, don’t you Matthew?” 

His only response is to giggle and place a soft kiss to your temple before picking up the phone to order you both a feast.

Matt taglist (message or comment to be added!): @slayraxes-blogs @littlehorrorlover @decaffeinatedparadisepost

Side note: Part Three of my ongoing Matt series is written, I'm just editing and planning what comes next before posting

[reverieblondie]

Neighbors

Chapter 4: Via the Window

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

Warnings: Eludes to voyeurism kink but nothing explicit.

Summary: It's time you thank Spider-Man properly...

A/N: I hope you enjoy the update! Hoping to get these out more frequently!

Word Count: 2,392

‘If I shut my blinds you won’t know where to come get your thank you.’

‘Thank me how’?

‘Come by Monday night and find out?’

‘I will swing by then’ 

Your Sunday has been spent in two ways. One you had taken the time to get ready for your first week of school. Write out your schedule and figure out what buildings your classes would be in. Best to prepare for your first day to eliminate any surprises that could occur. Two, and far more nerve-wracking; you kept talking with Spider-Man through notes via your window. At the time leaving notes and checking every few hours for a new message from your pen pal was an exciting experience. It was a thrill to get a new message when you weren't even able to catch a glimpse of him! How could he even be that sneaky? 

Well now it’s Monday and you're having to reflect on your messages…

You said you wanted to thank him, but now that it's Monday you find yourself playing with the last note he left you. You're still trying to wrack your brain for ideas, but you can’t sit and stir forever. You have a big day ahead! As you're getting ready to leave for school you're double, triple checking that you have your things and that you look decent. Going from the living room to your bedroom, back to the living room to the bathroom like a madman. Once you scramble into the kitchen to make a bottle of water, it clicks. Turning towards your admittedly out-of-date oven the brilliant idea hits, cookies! 

Who doesn’t like cookies? Maybe it's a bit old-fashioned or maybe he doesn’t like sweets, but it's the thought that counts right? Just a nice thankful gesture right? Well, there are other thankful gestures you could do for him…But you quickly shake away the thought, you don’t even really know him best not to cross any boundaries; not yet at least. 

Getting your mind off of…activities you check your phone and see that you need to leave, don’t want to risk being late on your first day. Doing one last run you check yourself and your things. Before you exit your apartment you find yourself going to your window on pure impose, checking it one last time before you leave. A part of you wishes you would see him swinging by like he's checking on you but you know you won’t catch him. 

Walking out of your apartment you look over to Peter's apartment. You haven’t seen him since your moment together in the laundry room. Admittedly you take your time locking your door for the off chance Peter would be leaving his apartment at the same time as you. Though you quickly come to find that your day is not going to start with seeing a brave hero or your annoyingly cute neighbor, that's not going to be a damper on your day. Walking to school making sure to stay out of the bike lane you open your phone and start looking up cookie recipes. 

As expected the first day of classes was nothing more than a lot of info dumping about the class and all the materials needed to be successful in the class. Yes, it is easy to just sit and listen but that doesn’t mean it's any less tiring to have to go through. Taking a stretch you feel your muscles stretch and hear your bones softly popping. Just have to go to the store then you can get your little thank you gift for spidy going. The thought of seeing him leaves a giddy feeling to swell in your stomach. But that is soon interrupted when you see a familiar face walking past. 

Well, well if it isn't your odd neighbor, of course he didn’t mention you two go to the same university, typical…

“Peter!”, you call out

In an instant, he's stopping and turning to meet your eyes with a somewhat surprised look on his face, though there is a slight hint of a smile on the corners of his lips. You quickly approach him making your way past the swarm of other exhausted college students. 

“You know this is starting to get a bit frequent, first the elevator, then the laundry room, now here. Are you following me?” He teases with an annoyingly adorable smile. 

“Yeah, if I’m going to stalk anyone it would be a celebrity, not my random neighbor.” 

“You would stalk someone? Bad girl…” 

The teasing nickname sends a rush over your spine but you must resist, he's insufferable…and adorable…dammit. 

Ignoring the comment you kept the conversation moving, “You know most people mention if they go to the same school as someone else they know.”

He shrugs, “True, but that kills the fun of you having to figure it out.”

“Oh, so fun Pete” 

“You're welcome. Are you done for the day?” 

“Yeah, I was heading home, well going to go to the store then home.” 

Peter smiles as he adjusts his backpack, “I was also heading home, you want some company for the trip?” - Well isn't this a friendly change? 

“Sure.”

Now you have eggs and sugar, but chocolate chips, flour, brown sugar, and vanilla extract you need to buy. Just to find them is the issue, this store Peter took you to is different from the one you have started to get accustomed to. Peters runs off to grab something, leaving you to wander down the aisles by yourself, so much for his company... 

As you browse down the aisle something catches your eye and it's staring in your direction. Two men seem to be whispering and glancing in your direction. You turn to see if they are looking behind you but nothing seems to be odd enough to catch any attention. Facing them again you see they have slid closer and you're starting to feel nervous that it may be you that is catching their attention, but why? 

Is there something on your face? Are they staring at your basket? Are you doing something wrong? You're starting to become uneasy as you do your best to just ignore them. They are whispering amongst themselves and you just keep your eyes forward, just ignore them, and let them walk past you. 

As the men start to walk in your direction a sudden warmth then wraps around you for a second you're frightened but as you look to see who has their arm wrapped around you you see Peter's striking profile. 

“There you are, did you find all the ingredients?” 

You look at him confused and he just winks before holding you tighter, sliding his hands to hold you in a hug as his chin rests on your shoulder. The feeling sends a rush down your spine. It's all so quick and confusing, why is he holding you? Did he see you were nervous? Turning you see Peter staring at the two men who had been approaching you up. But now seeing that Peter is with you they quickly scurry away. 

Once they are gone Peter's warmth leaves you and there is a zipping of your bag and things start to click.  

With a smirk, Peter ruffles your hair and you glare at him. 

“You need to pay attention before you get pickpocketed.”

Swatting away his hands he smiles before grabbing your basket and heading towards the register. You bite back a smile and take a second to fix your hair before following him. 

“You know I could have carried my bags” 

“No, no, it's fine. If my aunt May found out I walked home with someone without helping with the groceries I might just get disowned.” 

“Oh? Is that where you learned to be so chivalrous?” you say mockingly as you unlock your door. 

After a little effort with the old lock, you get the door open and gesture for Peter to step in. As he steps inside and you see him looking around you realize he's the first guest you have had in your apartment. Taking the groceries from him you start putting away things you don’t need and taking out the things you do. 

“You keep staring around at the place, are you not impressed by my decorating skills?” 

“Actually smarty pants, I am impressed, might need you to come over and help me with my place. You even managed to get the mildew smell out.” 

You smile then turn on your oven with a turn to the old dial, “I charge by the hour and am very bossy. I will warn you” 

Peter's eyes flash with mischief, “I wouldn't mind that…” 

Folding your arms over your chest you look at him confused, is he flirting? Peter's confidence starts to falter as he rubs the back of his neck trying to ignore the budding tension in the small kitchen. Looking at your counter he sees all the ingredients out. 

“Making something?” -smooth change the subject

“I am, just some cookies for a…Friend?” that is technically what you are doing…but can you call Spider-man a friend? You two are friendly but friends? Before you can get wrapped up in thought Peter is speaking up. 

“Friend? Judging from how you say it, I assume you two are very close.”

Start to take out your measuring cups and recipe. You roll your eyes at him, “He's a new friend, well acquaintance…”

Peter eyes your hands as you start to place everything down. His eyes on you are starting to make you slightly nervous…but in a good way…where it feels like a rush, “I'm an acquaintance and neighbor.”

“Well, he helped me with something.”

“Um, I carried your groceries and took care of a spider for you.”

“I thought you were carrying my groceries so you wouldn't be disowned, and if I recall you called me dramatic about the spider.” 

Peter thinks for a moment before snapping his fingers, “Playful banter between friends.” 

Wow, he wants cookies. Letting out a sigh you look at his smirking face trying not to smile. “Do you like chocolate chip?” 

“That's my favorite.” -of course it is…

Peter then gives you one more smile before grabbing his bag to leave. “Well, I will leave you to it. Thank you.” 

“Oh get cookies then leave?” 

“I have a deadline, unfortunately, those spider-man pictures won’t edit themselves” 

The mention of the hero's name causes you to perk up, as Peter is heading towards the door you muster up the courage to ask him about it. “Do you think maybe I could see some of your pictures sometime?” 

Peter adjusted his bag on his shoulder opening the door, “Bring the cookies and you can look through all my photos. Later.” 

Carefully you tie a neat blue bow on the bag to make sure it stays closed. Finally, you got the cookies done and to your credit, they are probably the best cookies you have ever made. Thank you internet for all the baking tips! 

Looking out the window you see it is very late and it's time to get ready for bed after all your hard work. Stepping into your room you go to shut the curtains so you can get changed, but as you go to shut the curtains you have a stray thought…what if he's watching out there…swallowing your dry throat you keep the curtain open and turn your back to your window. He said he would be by later… it's later… 

With trembling hands, you lift your shirt over your head dropping it to the floor as you shake your hair out. 

Is he out there…

Sliding your hands down your body you start undoing your pants slowly, your body feels hot and you can feel your face flushing to a bright red as you strip down to your underwear, closing your eyes you go to slide down your panties. 

The thought of his gloved hands roaming across your skin, the feeling of his weight and warmth pushed against you, stomach tying into knots and with a deep breath you open your eyes looking over your shoulder, and you see…

Nothing…

Whipping your hand down your face you quickly grab your pajamas and put them on. What were you doing stripping like he would be watching…Ugh, that is so embarrassing! You don’t know him and here you are getting horny like a fangirl, get a grip on yourself! You need to start meeting more people so you stop fantasizing about superheroes… maybe Peter has friends…or maybe Peter…

No! Not crossing that line, he's the only person you know in this city you can’t go mucking that up! No way! Off limits! 

Walking to the kitchen you look at the two bags of cookies, Peters you will drop off tomorrow. A smile stretches to your lips, you two have become something akin to friends. It's a relief to have him not hate your guts still snarky though…but funny. Maybe you will run into him at school again…

Turning to the other back you feel your heart race increase, Spidys cookies… You hope that he enjoys these. There is the chance he might find this as a lame gift, you can only imagine what kinds of gifts he receives after saving people. Have others made him treats? Giving him money? Presents? Something else…would he want that…You swallow your dry throat and quickly write a note attaching it to the bag to keep your mind busy. 

Do spiders enjoy sweets? - you include a doodle of a spider seemingly eating a cookie. 

Hopefully, he likes them and isn’t disappointed by the thank you. 

Walking over and opening the window there is a slight breeze that sends a chill through you. You wish you could leave the window open tonight to enjoy the breeze but you know better. Placing the bag of treats on the window seal you adjust the note and the bow so they look perfectly placed. Once set you look out into the glimmering lights of the city taking in the breeze, the sights, the noises, but that's when you hear a clearing of a throat. Looking up you see that iconic mask, body clinging to the wall as he looks down at you. 

“You have a thank you for me?” his voice coos

You forget all about your cookies…

Tags:

@huesdreamhouse @keiva1000 @spdrwdw @betizda @lunablackcosplay @juliluvhz @avareadsthings @xxrougefangxx @briviny @llpovi @beautyb1ade @lulawantmula @kikieatshomophobes

[florenceafternoon]

━。゜✿ jily fic recommendations ✿ ゜。━

Because I will never get tired of them, here are some more fic recs. These fics are set in the wizarding world but aren’t necessarily canon complaints.

For reference, anything in italics is an extract from the summaries on ao3.

Never Quite Awake by @sunshinemarauder 

“Endings are nothing unfamiliar to Lily Evans; she’s seen the ends of sisterhood, friendship, and innocence, all from miles away. But this is an end unlike any other. An end that was never supposed to happen.”

If to love someone once is to break their heart, to love them twice is to break yours.

Lily falls for James in her seventh year. But the couple are sent onto two diverging paths when a life-shattering altercation halts their burgeoning relationship. Five years later, she's a curse breaker and he is a soldier.

When they meet again, it feels like coming home.

All the angst that comes with a jily second chance romance that takes place during wartime. A fake dating subplot, cursebreaker!Lily, pining!James. What more could you want. France (country) - a relevant tag

Through The Rain by @bookeatingbean

James and Lily's first kiss, and the story behind it. There's some fluff, some character study, and some good old-fashioned angst.

If you're looking for a character study that shows how they grew up through their school years. This fic shows you that Lily was not a perfect person and James was a bully for the sake of it but he grew to understand that the world does not revolve around him and strives to do better. Or Lily is stubborn and James is the definition of a ride-or-die

It's been a long time by writtenbyfreckles (on ao3)

It's been ten years since Lily left Hogwarts. She's returned to England to work as a Healer on the "ward of the wacky", only to find home isn't as safe as she thought it was. An attack leaves her locked in a ward with her patients, a bunch of Death Eaters and an Auror she hasn't seen for a long time.

I need more cannon divergence Auror!James and Healer!Lily

The Guide To Becoming A Better Man For Lily Evans by @padfootswhiskers

prompt: I decided to walk outside shirtless (accidentally) but I forgot it's winter and why're you screaming at me like that? And oh gosh, you're very pretty.

lingering days, short-lived nights by letthebookbegin (on ao3)

The summer before seventh year, James is desperately trying to think of anything but Lily, who's burrowed her way into his mind and looks quite comfortable there.

The summer before seventh year, Lily is craving a distraction. Avoiding her sister, she picks an ice cream shop for shelter.

At the end of a long summer day, their paths cross - and the rest, as they say, is history.

Ties That Bind by @charmsandtealeaves

Lily Evans grew up with old wives tales about soul mates, but she'd never put much stock in the idea. Not until after she learned about the world of magic and the fact that soul bonds were a thing that actually existed. Which makes these strange new feelings and experiences that much more difficult to manage.

So I read this a while ago but stupidly forgot to bookmark it and then I spent nearly an hour trying to find it again. Needless to say, I ADORE this fic and you should all go read it. Like, right now. Then come back here to talk to me about it.

Lily Evans Doesn't Believe In I Love You's also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

“Did you hear Lily Evans doesn’t believe in I love you's?”

It wasn’t exactly a secret. But no one knew why, until she decided to share a bottle of fire whiskey in the astronomy tower with James Potter.

Same Lily, same

Meet Me At The River also by @/ charmsandtealeaves

A chance encounter with a misplaced owl leads to a correspondence between pen pals. Lily confides in her mysterious Flea and finds herself falling along the way.

I can't remember if I've recommended this one already, but even if I have I'll rec it again because I love it so much!!

Your Friend, James by @thelighthousestale

It is the summer before their 7th year, and Lily and James spend the entire holiday writing letters to each other as their relationship slowly changes from friends to something more.

Just the ending of this one is everything. James and Sirius are never beating the codependent allegations

Castling by @missgryffin

When they were still very young, Remus Lupin’s dad married Lily Evans’ mum. It changes everything.

Lily and Remus are like the little brother who got bullied and then found friends except he invited them over for the first time and they all act weird because they're mildly terrified of his older sister. Friends to lovers jily is only rivaled by academic rivals jily.

Just the Two of Us by @arianatwycross

Head Students James and Lily face a perilous twist when a malicious potion surfaces in hate mail directed at Lily. Dumbledore orders a week-long quarantine in the Head Students' suite. With unspoken crushes lingering, the duo navigates close quarters, leading to unexpected revelations, lingering looks and forehead kisses.

silence and patience, pining in anticipation by @kay-elle-cee

Lily’s been hung up on James for years; a tipsy conversation might be the push she needs to do something about it.

DRESS IS A JILY SONG FOREVER AND ALWAYS

The Devil in the Cloak Room by @chiechie97

Getting your heart broken when you’re 17 seems to alter your brain chemistry more than you would think. Which is the precise reason why Lily has no intention of reconnecting with the friends she lost at the end of school.

And besides, she has no chance of knowing anyone at the masked Halloween party her friend drags her to. Especially not the guy in the devil mask. Right?

Usually I rec complete works but this one is so good I had to include it

Deception and other ways to find love by @annasghosts

“I’ll be your fake girlfriend, Potter.” And this is how Lily Evans embarks on the adventure of (fake) dating her former Hogwarts nemesis (and crush, but ssssh, it’s a secret). Will she be able to keep her cool? Will he?

Class of '78 by @emeralddoeadeer

Class of 1978 Five Year Reunion - July 29th, 1983

Now is the time to look upon our shared experience, our similarities must unite us rather than letting our differences divide us. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry invites the Graduating Class of 1978 to return to the castle for a weekend of reconnecting, reminiscing and recreation. We hope the passage of time has been kind to you all and look forward to welcoming you soon.

Professor Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster, Order of Merlin First Class, Grand Sorc, DWiz, X.J sorc, S of Mag Q

It's been five years since graduation, and while many things have changed, some things never will.

James Potter Won't Go Quietly by la_plus_heureuse (on ao3)

Lily Evans remembers plenty about James Potter from Hogwarts. But an assignment from Mojo Magazine to profile the Quidditch star turned activist makes her realize what she remembered was all wrong.

canon divergence staring quidditch player James and journalist Lily

On A Scale of One to Ten (requires an ao3 account) by @petalsinwoodvale

Lily starts falling for an insecure, yet charming auror named James who is recovering from injury in her ward. No one else on staff will sit and talk to him, mostly due to septic skin covering most of his upper torso. Lily, however, finds him charming and funny. Naturally, when James' injuries start healing, he grows more and more handsome. The other healers suddenly take interest in James, romantically ...

foxy by lizpaige (on ao3)

Lily joins the boys at the shrieking shack on a particularly difficult moon in her new animagus form.

Lily & Remus friendship is so special to me

[year2000electronics]

Whats the Reverse Twins relationship like with pacifica and Gideon post Weirdmageddon? are they friends now?

GREAT QUESTION! one difference in my version of reverse falls compared to gravity falls is that while paz is only a temporary resident for the summer, gideon isnt! he just lives there! so he gets to kinda stay behind and watch the gleefuls try their best to be normal kids, and its great for him too because now he has friends his age (give or take two years) in town that arent gonna bully him :)

they do still keep in touch with paz though!! mason is her pen pal now

theyre all friends now but it isnt perfect. the gleefuls have a lot of time being antagonistic to make up for, and they still kinda dont get the "normal kid" thing. which is why theyve given gideon permission to use a spray bottle on them whenever theyre too mean or accidentally start treating him like will. they will learn with time

[elixirfromthestars]

WELCOME TO MY CAFE! ˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡

I miss interacting with fellow writers and readers, so I decided to host my own little writing challenge ♡ Between juggling grad school prep and an internship, I wanted to do something to keep me connected to this lovely community, so welcome everyone to my cozy little cafe :) 

The writing challenge starts today and closes on September 29th (National Coffee Day). I will be reading + reblogging every fic. The masterlist will be posted at the end. (if you see this anytime later or can’t make the deadline do not fret, if anything below inspires you, you are welcome to write and tag me and I will add your submission to the masterlist♡)

Below are the rules, prompts, and guidelines ♡

who you can write for: all marvel characters are welcome / any fictional sebastian stan or chris evans characters are welcome too (any characters they’ve portrayed based on real life people will not be accepted though!!) (please keep it to x reader fics only!!)

some general guidelines: Below I’ve provided a number of different prompts and songs for inspiration ♡ Anyone can use them and mix and match however you’d like!! If you use any please let me know somewhere in the post! If none of them below inspire you, to stay within theme please include either a cafe or coffee somewhere in the fic :) 18+ fics are welcome, just please add warnings! Any length of fics are welcome, but if it’s over 500 words please add the “keep reading” option. If you write something as part of a bigger series please write your submission as a standalone ♡

˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡ This is a sweet and cozy little cafe, but of course, there is always a possibility of rain. If anything below inspires an angsty fic, then by all means go ahead and write it! Your submission does not have to include fluff! 

what is not accepted: no dark fics, anything involving minors, incest, rape, noncon/dubcon 

how to enter: please tag me and use #elixirscafe when you post ♡ i’ll leave a like to let you know I saw it and reblog it once I read it :) if i haven’t responded to your post send me an inbox or dm please and thank you! 

Happy writing! My inbox is always open for any questions or comments!! ♡  

What table are you sitting at? 

♡ Coffeeshop AU 

♡ Soulmate AU 

♡ Bakery AU 

♡ Regency Era AU 

♡ Western AU

♡ Neighbor AU 

♡ Pen Pal AU

♡ Small Town AU 

♡ Royal AU

♡ College AU

Would you like a sweet treat?

🍩 ༄ؘ “No, I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed.” 

🍰 ༄ؘ Saying I love you for the first time.

🍪 ༄ؘ “ Would it be alright if I borrowed your sweater? It smells like you.” 

🍫 ༄ؘ  “ You...you learned how to cook my favorite meal?”

🧁 ༄ؘ “ I’m not going to get sick, you baby. Just let me hold you.” 

🥧 ༄ؘ  “ What else do I need when I have my whole world in my arms?”

🍮 ༄ؘ “ I’m only doing it because you’re cute.” 

🥯 ༄ؘ “ Could you hold my hand?” 

🥞 ༄ؘ “ I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.” 

🍞 ༄ؘ “ I like hearing your heart beating when I put my head on your chest.” 

🍯  ༄ؘ “ Why don’t you tell me what I can do to make your day better?” 

🥐 ༄ؘ “ I’ve tried to forbid myself from falling in love, but now I can’t help it.”

Do you like the music in the cafe? Which song should I play next?

˖°.₊˚☕⊹♡ Feel free to use the lyrics below, the entire feel of the song, or any other lyrics in the song! The playlist is below in case you want to go through and listen to the songs while you write ♡

Apple Cider “ And I don’t even like you that much. Wait, I do, fuck. Call me at midnight. Let’s give this a try.” Beabadoobee

Apple Juice “ Don’t let goodbyes come too easy. Love me, just let me know that you need me.” Jessie Reyez

Apple Pie “I found you under an April sky, and you feel like city life, apple pie baked just right. Home is wherever you are tonight.” Lizzy McAlpine

August “ And I can see us twisted in bedsheets. August slipped away like a bottle of wine.’Cause you were never mine.” Taylor Swift

Bubble Gum “ Sorry I didn’t kiss you, but it’s obvious I wanted to.” Clairo

Caramel “ Love like a landslide, I kiss you goodnight. It used to be easy.” 5SOS

Cardigan “And when I felt like I was an old cardigan, under someone's bed. You put me on and said I was your favorite.” Taylor Swift

Chai Tea “ I love sippin’ chai tea, with you across from me. I love hearing your voice, talkin ‘bout nothing.” Audrey

Champagne Problems “ You had a speech, you’re speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches, and I couldn’t give a reason.” Taylor Swift

Chocolate “ I need more time off with you to turn you on. And I want to wake up without the alarm. A thousand eyes on me constantly, but I just want you.” Ziggy Alberts

Cinnamon “ It’s a slow cinnamon summer. Your spell is pulling me under. Rowing in a wooded hollow. Showing me the moves to follow.” Jome

Coffee Breath “ Make me fantasize,'bout you baby. And you smell so sweet, like fresh-picked daisies.” Sofia Mills 

Coffee Cup “ So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” Anthony Lazaro

Espresso “ Now he’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night, oh. Is it that sweet? I guess so. Say you can’t sleep, baby, I know. That’s that me espresso.” Sabrina Carpenter

Grapejuice “ I was on my way to buy some flowers for you. Thought that we could hide away in a corner of the heath. There’s never been someone who’s so perfect for me.” Harry Styles

Honey + Tea “Girls like flowers, clever poetry. That old adage doesn't work on me, but conversation and a cup of tea. Boy, you had me at philosophy.” Mōzi

Milk & Honey “ So come meet me in the garden, where the angels sing. We’re mixing up milk and honey, soft lips divine. Slow cherry and lay me down, oh, she’s coming to set me free.” Jessarae

Pancakes for Dinner “ I’ll try to hide the way I feel, but I’ll just wanna shout. What do I have to lose right now?” Lizzy McAlpine

Thin Mints “ If you let me lova ya like I wanna, write you all the poems like Whitman. You can take my Thin Mints, if you let me love ya like I wanna.” Evan Crommett

Too Sweet “ I think I’ll take my whiskey neat. My coffee black and my bed at three. You’re too sweet for me.” Hozier

playlist for the songs above can be found here: 🧸

to my lovely mutuals, please don’t feel pressured to participate or share, just thought I’d share this with you all ♡  

@peteyprecious616 ♡ @malum-forev ♡ @rosepetalsinwinter ♡ @inkedreverie ♡ @nickfowlerrr ♡ @missraion ♡ @pocolottie​ ♡ @sweetiebarnes ♡

[marigold-hills]

Precious Things (Part 3)

a Remus Lupin Yuletide Miracle

Day Three: Frostbite | @wolfstarmicrofic

682 words

PART 1 | PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

*🎄🎄🎄*

There are two bookstores on Diagon Alley: Flourish and Blotts, with its mainstream catalogue and perpetual stock of school materials, and Behind the Pillar, so named for its rather unfortunate location with a door hidden by a Grade A Listed 18th century stack of bricks. This, usually Remus’ preference, carries obscure texts of muggle literature with Wizarding commentary, old half-banned books on spell creation, and the more favourable accounts of creatures such as the XXXXX-classified werewolf.

What it doesn’t carry is fad items such as the iQuill.

Remus reminds himself that he is a rather good employee and he likes being a good employee. The place has been decent to him, giving him time off for the full moons and never asking too many questions.

In truth, Remus doesn’t think Aberforth noticed the pattern in Remus’ mysterious illness, nor the frequency of it. As long as all the letters are accounted for by the end of the month, he doesn’t seem to care.

So, Remus says to himself: remain a good employee, listen to your boss’ orders, and steps inside Flourish and Blotts.

It’s cheerful inside. Something rather artificial about the cheerfulness, but still Remus can’t deny it - they have their own dressed up spruce tree, tiny enchanted balls of lights glowing in soothing, pulsating colours, and the whole floor is covered in a kind of artificial snow that makes Remus worry about frostbite.

The iQuill has its own display, prominently placed by the entrance, with a sign saying Perfect Yuletide Gift! above it.

As soon as he approaches it, a member of staff appears next to him - a young, overly-keen girl that makes Remus long for the iffy sellers at the Pillar, where commonly he has to spend upwards of fifteen minutes waiting to check out until whoever works there finishes making their tea.

“Would you care for a demonstration?” she asks with commerce-fuelled joy in her voice.

Remus wants to be kind - always wants to be kind - so he doesn’t tell her he knows how to use a quill and can’t imagine this one to be much more complicated, but she doesn’t wait for the response anyway before diving right into the sales pitch.

“We have the standard iQuill,” she pulls out one, a pretty little thing that actually looks like it would be rather nice to write with. “And for the Holiday special, the Mystery Pen Pal Bundle. Perfect if you’re after a little bit of a surprise!”

It’s a set of a quill, a bottle of ink and a leather bound notebook that makes Remus itch to run his fingers over the cover.

“What is that?” He asks because he’s a weak man for stationary.

“Each iQuill in the Bundle,” she tells him, animated and gesticulating widely, “is enchanted to perfectly match you with another soul out there who owns one. They will let you both know inside of the iBook,” she shakes the notebook a little bit.

Remus physically, viscerally cringes at the name.

Still, the magic sounds… interesting. Compelling. He thinks about who in his life could he realistically use the Quill to communicate with. He already has his weekly phone call with his mum (he uses a little red telephone booth outside of his flat), and even that seems to daunt her technophobic self. There is, of course, Aberforth, but Remus rather gets enough of him at work already.

So he asks “how does it work?” and feels a little put out about his limited choices.

“That’s patented spell work, I’m afraid - nobody knows but the Potters’ Emporium, the company who owns the iQuill brand. But it promises a discreet, non-human-interference to the matching process. The iQuill, unlike a wand, will read you and find the person who you truly need. A little Christmas miracle!” she falters at her own slip up. “Sorry. Yule I mean. A Yuletide miracle. I’m new here,” she laughs in a way that’s too self-deprecating and forceful to be counted as a laugh.

And Remus thinks: hmm. Thinks: that sounds… nice. That sounds like something he would, maybe, quite like.

NEXT PART

[serensama]

I think we're getting low on onions again...

Chapter 6

Tis mostly Crack. Beware. Written literally because I saw one scene in my head with Taash and had to write it in somewhere- why not in a crack fic with snippets of Rookanis thrown in, if you squint. At the end of the day, it's just Rook being thirsty for her Crow and friends doing what friends do best. Shit talk.

Read on Ao3 Prompt 9 out of 25: Bonding

“You can’t get out of it. You started this, so you’re gonna finish it,” Taash said, looming over Harding, who was staring up at them with a look of regret painted on her face. “Answer it.” 

Harding sighed and took a long swig of her mead before scoffing a large chunk of cheese to prolong her answer. Taash poked at their girlfriend’s cheeks to urge her to chew faster. 

“Okay, fine!” she screamed, turning a vivid shade of red to match her hair. 

“Alright- so, Lace. If you had to choose one of our male teammates or allies- who do you think would be the best lay?” Taash snorted, enjoying watching the dwarf squirm. “We all know it’s a game; I won’t get upset.” 

“I wish I never suggested playing this stupid game,” Harding pouted, sneaking in another cracker with cheese. 

Neve shimmied onto the couch further, holding her glass of wine with both hands. “Come on, Harding, tell us which man you’d be up to jump just by the look of them so we can make lewd noises whenever you pass them.” 

“Neve!” 

“Oh, don’t worry, Lace, Neve would never do that... right Neve? Because if you tell Viago that I think his facial hair is his sexiest feature, I think I’d die,” Bellara quipped, her cheeks flushed from embarrassment and the amount of wine she’d drunk on a mostly empty stomach. 

“Viago knows it already, Bell. Don’t work yourself up over nothing. It’s Teia you have to worry about; she’s very possessive about anything to do with that man’s face. It’s her favourite seat after all,” Rook teased, snorting when the veil jumper stared at her agape. “Don’t you dare try to eat something else to get out of it, woman! Answer already, Harding!” she yelled, throwing a cushion at the dwarf, hitting her square in the face. 

“Fine! Fine!.. I think... Davrin would be the best lay... Grey Warden stamina and... whatnot,” she tittered off at the end, hiding her face in her hands as her friends shrieked around her. Neve and Bell kicked their feet in the air, and Taash stomped a foot on the ground as they laughed at Harding’s discomfort. 

Rook sat forward in her seat and spun the empty bottle on the table between them, all those present holding their breath to see where it stopped. Slowly but surely the bottle’s spins waned, and it fell onto Neve, who looked down at the bottle as if it had personally betrayed her and she would somehow find all its secrets and destroy the bottle’s life.

Harding flashed her a wicked grin and continued with the night’s juvenile revelry. “Neve, out of everyone we’ve met on our travels... who would you say would be the best at oral?” 

The room went silent as they turned to Neve, who rolled her eyes and took a short sip of her wine. 

“Easy. Emmrich. The man has decades of knowledge about the ins and outs of the human body, if he couldn’t find my clitoris, no one could,” she replied with a shrug, the hint of a smile on her face as the others squealed ridiculously to her answer. Bellara’s colouring went from pink to scarlet thinking about her old pen pal being... so... adept at.... oh my. “Rook spin that bottle for me, would you?” 

“On it!” she chirped, reaching from her chair with her foot, too comfortable to move. The bottle almost teetered over the edge but managed to stay on the table, wobbling to a stop in front of Taash.

“Vashedan.” 

Neve peered over at Taash and tented her fingers around her wine glass, a sinister smile forming on her mouth. “Taash... which one of our allies would you say has the biggest cock?” 

“Vorgoth.” 

The room erupted with laughter, but they could not deny that their misty friend did radiate a certain type of energy as he sold fine wares to them in the Necropolis. Taash fixed the bottle and spun it a little too hard, causing it to fly off the table and land on Rook’s lap. “Let’s change it up a little, shall we? Feel like playing one of the old Rivaini games?” 

Rook shrugged happily, not worried at her companion’s change of tactics.

“Fuck, marry or kill-”

“Lucanis.”

“Rook!” Taash groused, throwing a handful of nuts at their leader. “That’s not how you play the game, and you know it!”

“Alas. That is my answer.” 

“You can’t do that- you have to choose between three different people-”

“But why when I would do all three with Lucanis?” Rook countered, crossing her legs on her chair. 

“Don’t tell me hanging around with Emmrich has got you doing weird corpse shit now.” 

“How do you know I wasn’t doing weird corpse shit before I met Emmrich?” Rook giggled at Taash’s horrified expression. “But seriously, I would... try to kill Lucanis, get close, but he’d manage to thwart me. He’d be so damned impressed that he’d fall in love with me and want to marry me, and then we’d fuck the rest of our lives away... eventually leading me to fuck him to his literal death. See, full circle.” 

Bellara sat up and gave her a long, hard look. “I think I’ve drunk so much that it actually makes sense,” she said before promptly passing out on the floor. 

Taash crossed their arms as they shook their head, not willing to back down. “Nah, Rook, you played the game wrong, so now you have to do a dare.” 

“Wha- that’s not how it works!” Rook cried out, scandalised by the turn of events.

“Well, now you know how it feels,” Taash smirked smugly, Rook cursing herself for being obstinate against a damn Qunari. As if she ever stood a chance. “I dare you to finally get off your ass and tell the Crow how you feel.” Harding and Neve’s heads snapped in her direction in anticipation of her answer. “And if you back out, that means I have to do it for you.” 

“Oooooh, either way, Lucanis finds out about your unending love for him,” Harding teased. 

“Guys, no, I’m not- we are not doing that, is that understood?” Rook asked, with a serious look on her face. 

“Then you have to play the game right. Fuck, marry or kill- Illario, Elgar'nan or Solas.”

“They are all repugnant.” 

“I can’t remember any of the other people’s names. You gotta go with those.”

Rook tried her best to think it out rationally before answering. “... Can I just kill them all?”

The dragon hunter snorted and shook their head, a smug smirk forming on their face. Next time they were out, she would wear her newly ‘gifted’ Crow cape from Viago (stole- she stole it the last time she was drinking too late at the Diamond and the Fifth Talon figured ((strong-armed into submission by Teia)) it was a small price to pay for all she did for them recently), just to rub it into their face that she got one without having to ask for it. 

Rook knew ‘kill’ would be Elgar’nan. Easy. No brainer. However, the mere idea of having to say she would fuck or marry either Solas or Illario -even for a game- made her want to become a celibate Chantry sister and pray for forgiveness for the rest of her days. Fuck it. She leaned over and stole the bottle of wine Bellara had been polishing off and downed the remaining liquid, wincing at the slight burn down her throat. With a loud thud, she slammed the bottle back onto the table, the veil jumper violently waking up from the sound with a yelp. 

“No time like the present to get brutally rejected, I’m just going to tell him,” Rook declared, standing up with a very obvious sway. Neve and Harding stared at their friend, surprised that she would go to such lengths just not to answer something so trivial. “Wish me luck. If I come back in here crying, know that I will need to consume all the wine in the Lighthouse and every last cheese wand you have on that plate, Taash.” 

Determined not to lose her alcohol-fuelled confidence, Rook jogged her way to the door and into the courtyard, impressing herself that she managed to reach the dining hall without almost falling off the ledge. A task sometimes difficult for her even when sober. She saw Davrin and Emmrich seated in the corner, chatting amongst themselves so deeply that they did not notice her arrival. With one deep breath, she centred herself and forced her feet to follow each other to the pantry door. They had been skirting around this for too long, and after the wonderful dessert he made for her the other night- she had to get it out in the open, even if that meant he finally turned her down. 

Rook knocked and waited for him to say she could enter. He was leaning against the blasted shelves again, looking far too attractive than he had any right to be for someone standing between coffee beans and onions. He turned to her and smiled, about to say something when she held out a hand to stop him. Rounded, doe-like eyes stared at her, startled by her strange behaviour, but he said nothing. 

“You and I have been playing some messed up game of cat and mouse. So much so I don’t even know who the cat is and who the mouse is anymore. But now, a trap has been laid, and I have been caught-”

“As the cat… or the mouse?” 

“Shut up. Both. The point is, I’ve been caught, and I don’t know what follows from here.” 

“I must say, you are impressively drunk tonight, Rook,” Lucanis chuckled at her and crossed the room to meet her, arms folded against his chest. “I believe you were saying you were caught, and you do not know what follows. Please, proceed.” 

“I like you, Lucanis. I have done, for a really long time, and I thought… maybe… you liked me back. But you’ve never outright said anything, and I’m starting to think you’ve just been really nice to me, and I’m reading way too much into things. So if you could please just put me out of my misery and-”

“We should go somewhere,” he interrupted with a clearing of his throat. “The Lighthouse is starting to feel like a cage. Do you have a moment now?” 

“N-now?” Rook’s eyes bugged out of her head at his change of topic. He always bloody did that! She hated that! 

Lucanis nodded and dropped his arms, holding one hand out to her. “Mhmm. I thought as you were there to witness my new deal with Spite. You should come to see it paid in full.” 

Rook ran her hand down her face in a bid to not scream at the Crow. “I guess that’s my answer then. Yeah, sure, no worries. I’ll just uh… tell them all I’m gonna head out with you for Crow business-”

“Tell them you’re going out with me. For a date.” 

“For… a date?” she clarified after a minute of staring at him like he had just slapped her. “With me. Together. As in not just to meet Illario or for something to do for a contract. With me.” 

He nodded and did his best not to laugh out loud at the gobsmacked expression she wore or how prettily her cheeks flushed when she realised that she did, in fact, get an answer to her question. 

“So… bear with me here… Me and you, Rook and Lucanis- on a date- with each other. Just you and me. No cousins or grandmas or Teia and Viago to try to send me on any more missions? Just a date for… us?” 

“And then after, we can walk in the markets or come back here, or we can go to the Diamond together and have some drinks there- anything you want.” 

Rook smiled at the thought of being able to walk around Treviso with Lucanis, maybe she’d get the chance to hold his hand if he felt comfortable enough to do so. Even sneak in a moonlight kiss on one of the bridges, even if it was just a peck on his cheek. 

“If we go to the diamond, I won’t even say anything about Viago’s facial hair. He’s far too proud of his moustache and goatee as it is.”

… Say what.

“Why would you say anything about it?” she asked, confused, her loved-up haze dissipating, something in her gut telling her to be wary. Rook focused on the way Lucanis’s eyes darted to the door, his assassin instincts kicking in to look for the quickest exit whenever he was in danger. 

“Oh, you know me and Viago go way back. I’ve been known to comment on his facial hair from time to time.” 

Rook narrowed her eyes at the Lucanis and placed her hands on her hips. Alarm bells rang in her ears as memories of that night replayed in her mind. 

“You little sneak! You were spying on us!” she shrieked, slapping him half-heartedly on his arms. 

He raised his hands in surrender and hung his head in shame, but his little smirk belied his remorseful actions. “My apologies. We did not mean to eavesdrop on you.” 

“... WE?” 

“I…” 

“We?”

“That is to say…” 

“Please tell me when you say we, you mean you and Spite.” 

“...” 

“How much did you guys hear?” Rook squeaked, her body heating up from embarrassment. She had not been very subtle about her very carnal need to have him so often and in ways so imaginative that somehow they would both end up pregnant. 

Lucanis never lied to Rook, and even if he wanted to, he had Spite beside him, grinning at him and shaking his head knowingly. If he tried to bend the truth, the little demon would sell him out to her in a heartbeat. Because if Spite had to choose between him and Rook, somehow Lucanis would come in third place after Spite chose Rook twice. 

“We were there from Bellara admitting that once she and Irelin decided to get better acquainted in the forest only to be interrupted by a very insistent Gus the nug, as they were lying on top of a rich patch of truffles and now Bellara has a scar from a nug bite on her ass. I left when you were choosing me to marry, kill or-”

“Oh no no no no no no no no! That was practically the whole night! You guys were just standing there like a bunch of- nope! Not okay!” she griped, stalking off to confront the two other men. “You two, come with me, now!” Rook ordered, pointing toward the library. Emmrich profusely apologised, saying he only meant to go back to pick up a volume in his library, but Davrin and Lucanis had stopped him from going further. The Grey Warden smiled at her sheepishly and offered his apologies as well but used Assan as a physical shield between them in case she decided to attack him. 

“No excuses- go, now!” Rook sent a warning glare to Lucanis, who dutifully followed, in for a copper, in for a gold. 

---

Bellara, Harding, Neve and Taash glared at the men who had the decency to at least look somewhat regretful for their actions. 

“What should we do to get them back for this heinous betrayal?” Bellara asked, bottom lip jutting out in an angry pout. “Maybe I should go to Arlathan and get Gus, so they can see how it feels when they get in between a nug and a truffle!” She looked to Neve, who was still thinking about an appropriate punishment when their dragon hunter suggested that they could all be bait for an upcoming hunt the Lords were planning. 

“No, we don’t want to hurt them or put any innocent animals into harm's way by subjecting them to seeing these bastards’ bits.” Neve deadpanned, tapping her chin in deep thought. She looked over the three men, saw their guilty expressions and decided their fate. “It would be far more fair if they were made to answer the same questions, seeing as they know so much more about us than we do about them. So start. Talking. Boys.” 

Rook piped in to excuse Lucanis from the exercise and took him by the wrist, her loose hold on his exposed skin enough to send tingles through the both of them. “Not this one, though. Not now, anyways. We have a date to go on.” Harding and Bellara cooed, and Neve nodded her approval, the detective having noted the subtle smile the Antivan wore since entering the room.

“Alright, make yourselves comfortable and properly drunk. And seeing as Lucanis is not joining in, you guys will have to answer each question, twice,” Taash instructed, setting a new bottle of wine in between Davrin and Emmrich. 

“Wait now, Taash, that’s not how the game works,” Davrin objected, only to silence himself at their glare. 

“Well, seeing as you guys didn’t play by the rules and eavesdropped, it’s how it works now!” they pointed out. “I don’t make the rules. Except in this case. In this case, I make the rules and you guys gotta spill it. Emmrich… have you ever done it in a coffin?” 

“What? No!” the necromancer frowned, obviously disgusted at their line of questioning. “There’s not enough room in a coffin; it must be in a sarcophagus.” 

“... I want to say nice, but I’m pretty creeped out,” Taash replied, grimacing.

“Bell… Why are you writing this all down? For evidence? We’re all here,” Neve queried, peering over her friend’s shoulder to see her normally neat script turn into large, sloppy lettering she knew would be difficult to decipher later. 

“No, silly, I need to get this all down for my story, I think my characters could use a story or two to be more relatable to my audience.” 

Neve chuckled and relaxed back in her seat. “Another writer that takes after the great Varric Tethras all too well.” 

“Davrin, just how much stamina does a Grey Warden actually have?” Harding asked, crossing her arms and attempting to look as intimidating as she could. Lucanis understood even more why she chose to go the ‘personable’ route instead of combative all her life- the dwarf was impossibly adorable even though he knew she was not to be trifled with. 

“Classified. Can’t tell you that,” Davrin replied, mirroring her and crossing his arms in kind.

“Knew it. It’s an urban legend. Warden’s can probably only go for 10 minutes,” Taash snorted.

“Hey, I didn’t say that!”

“Oh, okay. So what... 5 minutes then?” 

“You go and enjoy yourselves, Rook, Lucanis. But don’t think you’re getting off the hook so easily just because you’re in the good books with our leader,” Neve called out, motioning for them to head to the eluvian with a nod of her head. 

Davrin made an alarmed noise, which had the assassin turn back in surprise, the elf staring at him dead in the eye, mouth set with resolution. “Lucanis, I will give you any amount of money if I can take out a contract on my own life, right now.” 

“Sorry, Davrin, only a Talon can hand out assignments they believe have merit.”

“But you are a damn Talon!” 

“Oh, you’re right. But sadly, there is no merit in this. It would be the equivalent of me buying a fish in the markets, then attaching it to a fishing rod and pretending that I caught it. No need to kill a dead man who doesn’t understand they’re already dead.” 

“You could have just said no, man.” 

Rook and Lucanis slipped through the eluvian and stepped onto the familiar ledge of the Diamond, the beautiful skyline of Treviso stealing away Rook’s breath for the umpteenth time.

“Before we move on, I do need to say something to you, Rook,” Lucanis began, taking in a deep breath of the crisp evening air. “Game or not, you were right, back there. It would be a challenge, but I think I would be able to stop you from killing me. I would be impressed by you, I am impressed by you- and I would marry you in time- if you would have me. And I would die for you, in any manner you would see fit.” 

Rook had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t passed out drunk and dreaming back in the Lighthouse. In the space of an hour, not only did she find out he reciprocated her feelings, he also asked her out on a date and was apparently in the mood to be very chatty about his feelings. That and he confirmed he was up for marriage and death by sex… at least eventually. First, they had to get through their first date. “Do me a favour and tell Taash that I was right, would you? And they had the audacity to say I didn’t know how to play this game!” 

“As soon as we get back. And… no… no Spite-”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, concerned that the demon was acting out again as their agreement had been fulfilled.

“Nothing- he just… he wants to play the game as well,” he explained, actively listening to what the demon was saying to him offside. “He is eager to play, though he is not quite sure about the rules.” 

Rook threw her head back and laughed joyfully, the sound sweeter to him than any treat Cafe Pietra served. “Well then, we can make a night of it sometime. You and I can sit down and play all sorts of games, and he can pick it up by watching. And any holes found, I’m sure, will be filled.” 

“Holes in his knowledge, you mean?” he questioned, not sure if he had misheard or perhaps misunderstood. 

“No, I don’t.” 

Lucanis sputtered and almost tripped over a broken roof tile at her brazen words but could not deny that the thought of the two of them, alone, playing a game that required such intimacy and trust to speak so truthfully with each other could definitely be insightful. Inspirational even. 

Why are you smiling like that, Lucanis? Will playing with Rook be that much fun? 

“I… will look forward to it.”

[psychooomind]

Mixed Signals

Severus Snape x reader

Summary: Set between 1989 and 1998, Severus Snape and Katya Borislova attend the European Potioneers' Assemblies, where they meet and begin a pen pal friendship that confuses them both.

This is a prequel to another of my Harry Potter fanfics, The New Founders.

A multi-entry, slow-burn, colleagues to lovers, smut

You can also read it at AO3 here.

Saturday, April 4, 1993

Katya was looking at the peaceful view from her kitchen window. The night was calm, and she could see the cars passing by, small, on Komsomol'skiy Street. She loved nights like this; they gave her a sense of peace. She continued chopping vegetables when, suddenly, she heard the crackling of the fireplace and flinched slightly.

Severus Snape appeared through the Floo network, dressed in his usual black robes and carrying a bottle of wine under his arm. His brow was slightly furrowed, and Katya’s heart began to beat faster. She silently thanked him for pretending to be indifferent and not rushing to greet her.

She wiped her hands and glanced at her reflection in the window, concerned. She ran her fingers through her hair to smooth it out one more time before approaching him.

Severus, meanwhile, was taking his time to appreciate the immensity of the apartment. The photos she had sent him did not do it justice; it was truly luxurious. He walked over to the large penthouse window and gazed out at the city. He had never been to Russia before.

“It’s the Khamovniki district,” Katya said behind him. When she reached his side, she pointed to a body of water. “That’s the Moskva River.”

“Impressive,” Severus murmured.

He gave her a quick glance before turning his eyes back to the view, but it was enough to take in the essentials. Katya was wearing a black satin dress that clung to her figure. Its neckline, subtle but alluring, left him momentarily stunned. The thick straps of the dress, adorned with magical runes, it made him wonder if they were another gift from her designer friend.

“Shall I pour you a drink?” Katya asked hastily, her accent slipping through. Severus guessed she was nervous and nodded, handing her the bottle.

He listened to the sound of her heels fading as she walked away, and in a moment of weakness, allowed himself to watch her, something he quickly regretted. The dress was indeed tight.

Severus took a deep breath, trying to control the images flooding his mind. Before leaving Hogwarts, he had promised himself he wouldn’t do anything reckless, wouldn’t let his instincts get the better of him. But it felt as though Katya was laying all her cards on the table. He wondered what it would be like if he weren’t himself, if he could pretend to be someone else, someone better at handling this situation. Frustration washed over him. A part of him wanted to lose control, to take her right there against the window, while another part of him wanted to keep her at a safe distance.

He heard her footsteps returning. Control yourself, he thought.

“Thank you,” she whispered, handing him a glass of wine.

“Would you like me to take your cloak?” Katya asked.

Severus unbuttoned his cloak and handed it to her. For a moment, he felt vulnerable. Katya snapped her fingers, and the cloak floated over to a coat rack in the corner, near the front door. Above the door, there was a large tourmaline embedded in the wall.

“I see you have many protections in your home,” Severus remarked. “The door, the security wards, and…”

“I’m a woman living alone,” she interrupted. “Better safe than sorry.”

Severus nodded, though he felt Katya was hiding something. He tried, unsuccessfully, to quietly probe her mind. Katya smiled mockingly.

“I thought you didn’t do that any more,” she said, taking a sip of wine.

“Apologies, it was rude of me,” he quickly apologized, then added sincerely, “Sometimes, you’re an enigma.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied with a smile, gesturing for him to sit on the sofa. “I don’t like apparitions or unannounced visits.” They shared that sentiment. “Wizards here aren’t used to taking ‘no’ for an answer,” she explained.

Severus nodded. Was it a troublesome ex-boyfriend? A colleague at work bothering her? Whatever the source of her paranoia, a deep feeling of anger began to swell inside him. They weren’t worthy of her… just like him.

Katya sat elegantly on the sofa beside him, playing absentmindedly with her hair. She felt her bad mood rising and didn’t want to scare him away with her traumas and fears. Meanwhile, Severus scanned the living room with his dark, analytical eyes. When she moved closer to him, he stiffened. His eyes were now fixed on the bookshelf.

“How was your day?” Katya asked casually, trying to keep her tone light as she sipped from her glass.

“Interesting,” he murmured, settling more comfortably into the sofa. “There was a Quidditch match this morning. Hufflepuff against Ravenclaw. Hufflepuff won,” he commented. “Then I bought the wine in Hogsmeade. Do you like it?” he asked, fixing his gaze on her. Katya noticed how his eyes briefly strayed to her neckline and smiled inwardly.

“Oh yes, it’s very good, thank you,” she replied. “What did you tell your colleagues?”

“That I had a date,” he replied curtly. “They’ll have questions when I return. I’ve never taken a day off.”

“Never?” Katya asked, curious. “How responsible of you.”

“More like I’ve never had anything that warranted taking a day off,” he explained.

Katya nodded, and Severus noticed a slight blush on her cheeks. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, revealing small diamond earrings. He sighed. She was out of his league, he thought. Glancing around, surrounded by luxury, he realized that her clothes alone probably cost more than his monthly salary as a professor. A knot formed in his stomach.

Suddenly, an electronic beeping sound came from the kitchen, interrupting the moment. Katya shot up, muttering something in Russian, and hurried towards the kitchen. Severus followed her slowly. The kitchen, like the rest of the flat, was elegantly grey with black marble countertops. The smell of garlic wafted from a small black pot on the stove.

“Do you like pesto?” Katya asked as she drained the pasta. “I didn’t ask earlier, but I can make something else if…”

“I love it,” Severus affirmed with conviction. “It smells amazing.”

“Oh, thank you,” she said, turning towards him with a big smile. “Do you think I could win you over with food, then?”

Severus snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. Katya blushed and burst out laughing herself.

Gods, how he wanted to take her right there, he thought, as he watched her cover her face, embarrassed. He felt like a hormone-ridden teenager, nervous as if it were his first time with a woman. None of his past encounters, not even during his time as a Death Eater, compared to what he felt for Katya. She was an extraordinary witch, beautiful, and unlike anything he had experienced before.

“Enough wine, Miss Borislova,” Severus said, making her glass float towards him. She gave him a look of both reproach and amusement.

“Sorry, sorry,” she said cheekily, placing a hand on her chest to stop the glass from floating away while trying to reach for it with her other hand.

Severus raised the glass even higher, and she giggled. She looked at him affectionately but, sensing the growing tension, turned back to serving the food. The cupboard opened, and two plates flew into her hands. He watched her, captivated by her movements and her body. He breathed in deeply, and the soft scent of lavender from her perfume overwhelmed him. He let himself get lost in thought.

Her skin must be so soft, he imagined what it would be like to have her on top of him… No, he reprimanded himself. Control yourself.

“Is there anything I can help you with?” Severus asked, trying to regain his composure.

“Would the Potions Master care to grate the cheese, please?” she replied playfully.

He nodded, rolling up his sleeves before getting to work. He grated the cheese with precision and brought the small bowl over to the table, where Katya was already waiting, having poured more wine into their glasses. The glass table allowed him to notice that she had taken off her heels. Katya had a satisfied smile on her face.

“I know I’ve seen your tattoo before…” she commented suddenly. Severus felt a pang in his stomach. “But I never would have imagined you as the type to like that sort of thing.”

Severus realized he had left his sleeves rolled up and quickly pulled them down, feeling uncomfortable. He sat opposite her, his eyes cast down to his plate. He hadn’t told her about those three years of his life and feared that if he did, Katya would distance herself.

“I hate it,” he muttered, staring at his plate. “I don’t know what I was thinking when I got it.”

“Did it hurt?” she asked, taking another sip of wine. “What was it? A bet, a toxic relationship?” Her tone was light, teasing.

Severus let out a slightly manic laugh. Yes, a toxic relationship, he thought sarcastically.

“I was a troubled teenager,” he confided. “It was a bad crowd.”

His eyes met Katya’s, and hers were like a crystal-clear lake, ice in its purest form. Katya giggled softly.

“Troubled?” she said. “I can’t imagine it. Did you vandalize Hogwarts, fail your classes?”

“No, no… Well, yes,” he admitted reluctantly. “But I was diligent in school.”

Severus took a bite of pasta. The food was exquisite.

“Oh, this is amazing… Kat,” he said, savouring the words.

He decided to use the nickname he had reserved only in his thoughts. He had never called her that before, only using it when he saw her letters arrive by Nox. He hoped the change of subject would shift her focus.

“So, Kat?” she said with a smile while eating. “Sev it's alright?”

He laughed, genuinely laughed. First, because his attempt to change the subject had worked, and second, because it had been years since anyone had called him that.

“I suppose,” he murmured, amused.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Inside, Katya was radiating with excitement. She had spent nearly two years waiting for this moment and felt that everything was going smoothly. She wondered if Severus would make any further moves. She didn’t want to always be the one to take the leap.

“I read today that there’s been a breakthrough in the Magical Supreme Court regarding the use of blood in potions,” Severus murmured while taking another bite of pasta. “I don’t know if you’ve been following it…”

“Yes!” she exclaimed, interrupting him with enthusiasm. “Sorry, yes.” Katya chastised herself internally; she needed to stop drinking so much wine. “I saw it in the European Magical Daily…”

“European Magical Daily,” he finished for her. They both smiled.

“Incredible development, don’t you think?” she commented, cutting a piece of bread and handing it to him. “I think it will be very useful. I’ve even thought about presenting on the topic at the next assembly. The use of blood in potions could be a turning point in curing certain magical diseases.”

Severus frowned. He could imagine the faces of some purists if she dared to present such a topic at the Assembly. They would label her a dark witch.

“I think it’s an excellent idea, but I’m not sure if it’s something I would present at the Assembly,” he advised cautiously. “Some people aren’t as… open to unconventional practices.”

Katya raised an eyebrow.

“Unconventional practices?”, she questioned.

“Dark Arts,” he said plainly. “Some believe that any association with them is wrong, no matter how pure the intentions.”

“Not everything involving blood is Dark Magic, Sev,” she said, placing her hand on the table.

Sev.

“No, it’s not. But you and I might think that way. I’m not sure others would reason the same.”

“Well, then they shouldn’t be at an academic assembly,” Katya replied firmly.

Severus smiled at her determination. They continued talking about the subject for nearly an hour. Katya admitted that she used her own blood in specific potions, like protection potions. Severus also shared that some desperate witches even used blood in love potions. Katya was alarmed by this revelation, but Severus wondered silently if she had ever done it—if, irresponsibly, she had slipped a love potion into those Christmas ciders, and now they were both in trouble because of it.

While they were talking, Katya took out her wand, and with a slight movement, the dishes floated towards the kitchen, where they began washing themselves. She was about to do the same with the glasses, but Severus also pulled out his wand, and suddenly, their glasses refilled with wine, even though the bottle was empty.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were still thirsty,” Katya said, amused, looking at him.

“Wine helps to quell base instincts,” he murmured, noticing how she breathed a little more heavily.

“We’re going to need more, then,” she said, leaning forward on the table, her neckline teasingly stretching.

He found her reactions incredibly amusing. It was a new feeling for him, being desired, something he hadn’t noticed in his previous encounters. Katya seemed to enjoy letting him know that she wanted him. It made him feel exposed, and he was afraid he would mess everything up.

With a sudden, abrupt movement, he ventured towards the bookshelf that adorned one of the penthouse walls. The shelves were filled with volumes, many specialising in Dark Arts, Potions, and Enchantments, as well as Muggle topics like Economics, Administration, Politics, History, and lighter subjects like poetry and novels.

Severus feared ruining the friendship they had built over the last four years. He didn’t have many friends, or rather, he had none. He had acquaintances, collages. The Hogwarts staff, who he had to interact with daily out of necessity, had formed a sort of connection: Minerva, Pomona, Poppy, Charity, Fillius, and even Albus, when he wasn’t too busy keeping an eye on him. Then there were Lucius and Narcissa, who pretended as if they hadn’t manipulated a teenager into joining a cult and invited him to galas, sent him birthday gifts, or, dramatically, named him their son’s godfather. A bold move for someone who harboured some resentment towards them. He liked them, yes, but couldn’t overlook the fact that he distrusted them. He didn’t feel comfortable with them, something that wasn’t an issue with Katya. With her, he felt at ease, able to talk about anything, and, unfortunately, he was attracted to her.

He wondered how far he was willing to go that night. He feared that if they crossed that line, he would lose the connection he valued so much with Katya. Or worse, it would start a different type of relationship between them, one in which he would have to open up more, reveal his secrets, his past as a Death Eater, a chapter of his life that still haunted him.

On the other hand, Katya was grappling with her own insecurities. Every word they exchanged made her feel more and more uncertain. Was she going too far? What would happen tonight? Sometimes she felt like Severus kept a metaphorical arm’s length between them, but in the next moment, he would pull her into his own desires, playing a game of cat and mouse.

She simply couldn’t read his intentions, or perhaps the cruel truth was that he might be gay and just toying with her. A part of her began to feel ridiculous for dressing so provocatively and for her direct attempts at flirting.

She approached him slowly. Severus was engrossed in a book on the Russian Magical Statute. Katya figured he didn’t fully understand what he was reading.

“This word…” he murmured, pointing to a title in the index. “What does it mean?”

“Zagryaznennyy,” she said. “Dirty, contaminated.” She let out a snort. “They’re absurd laws, really, from thousands of years ago.”

“What does it mean?” Severus pressed.

“In Russia, no wizard can marry a Muggle; it would contaminate pure blood,” she said, rolling her eyes. “It’s a bit hypocritical, really. The big families in our community don’t mix with Muggles personally, but they do work and make millions with them. Pyotr Borislov is the perfect example.”

Severus nodded slowly.

“Do you tolerate Muggles, considering you work with them daily?” he asked, surprising Katya, as she had never sensed any supremacist tendencies from him.

“I’ve seen no reason not to,” she replied vaguely, trying to hide the discomfort the question had caused her. “What do you think?”

Severus held her gaze for a few seconds before finally saying:

“I find them… tolerable,” he murmured.

Katya nodded, feeling a slight shift in the air. Severus felt it too. He didn’t quite know why he had answered that way. The truth was, he didn’t feel comfortable around Muggles; being near them made him feel like he was pretending to be someone else. He could see the change in Katya’s expression and sensed that she was judging him for how he’d answered. Perhaps his comment had given him an air of superiority, something he would hate for Katya to think of him. Severus was about to say something when she excused herself to go to the bathroom. He stood there, feeling awkward, hating himself for ruining any possible chance.

In the bathroom, Katya splashed some water on her face and changed into comfortable black pyjamas and a pair of casual shorts. She removed her jewellery and sighed, resigned. Something told her that nothing would happen that night. When she returned, Severus was still reading from the volumes in her library. Upon seeing her, he felt that she was subtly signalling him to leave.

“You look more comfortable like that,” he commented, feeling a strange mix of disappointment as he realized she wanted him to go. “I think it’s time…”

“Would you like to help me with my thesis?” she asked. “I feel like that would be more useful than trying to flirt with you all night.” She added, looking at him with a defiant smile. “You’re the king of mixed signals, Severus.”

He felt guilty, lowering his gaze. She wanted him too, but in his foolishness, he was pushing her away.

“I’m sorry if I haven’t been clear.” The words came out sincerely, but also with sadness; he really did care for her. Moreover, he could see how Katya’s face fell as she listened. “Don’t think your efforts went unnoticed; I want it too… But something tells me I wouldn’t be good company beyond friendship, Kat.”

“Why do you think that?” Her question was genuine, and Severus felt she deserved an equally genuine answer.

“Because I value our friendship too much, and if you knew more about me, I’m certain you would distance yourself,” he said firmly.

Run, girl, run, he thought. Nothing good happens to the people I care about.

She sighed.

“I understand,” Katya murmured, though a shadow of disappointment crept into her voice. Still, she didn’t want the night to end like this.

“I’ll help you with your thesis if you still want,” he assured her.

She nodded, and both of them settled on the sofa, a bit tense. Katya placed a cushion between them, and soon the living room was filled with information. As Katya read and explained her thesis, Severus couldn’t help but recognize that she was a prodigy in the field. Economics wasn’t something that interested him or that he fully understood, but the young woman had a way of explaining complex subjects with clarity and practicality.

They debated for a good while about how to improve the thesis until, little by little, fatigue overcame them. Before they knew it, they had both fallen asleep, surrounded by thesis papers.

Katya woke up in the middle of the night and realized she had fallen asleep while Severus had been correcting part of her thesis. She assumed he hadn’t wanted to wake her, so, delicately, she stood up to find a blanket and a pillow to cover him. As she approached, she found him waking up, surprised by her gesture.

“Thank you, but I really should return to Hogwarts,” he murmured, his eyes still half-closed.

“Stay,” Katya insisted, not wanting him to leave. “I promise I won’t disturb you.”

There was a moment of hesitation, but finally, Severus relented, watching her intently as part of her pyjama top had slipped open, revealing a glimpse of her bare skin. He couldn’t stop himself from deliberating just how much he would like to have her right there, on the sofa.

“You can use the bathroom if you like,” she said, her voice drowsy.

After a few minutes, he nodded, thanked her, and went to the bathroom, where an erection was demanding attention. With clinical precision, he took care of the situation and, when finished, felt a wave of guilt. He washed his face harshly and sat on the toilet, seething, for a few minutes.

When he emerged from the bathroom, Katya was waiting to wish him goodnight before, disappearing into her room and closing the door behind her. Severus mulled over whether he should pursue something more with her, but the closed door and her earlier disappointed expression convinced him that it would be best to leave things as they were.

He returned to the sofa and sank into it, holding the pillow and blanket that still carried her scent. He hugged them to himself as he drifted off to sleep.

The morning arrived suddenly, filling the penthouse with light. Severus woke to the sound of someone preparing breakfast. He moved towards the kitchen and watched Katya move slowly about, making coffee and neatly organizing the pages of her thesis.

“Good morning,” he greeted her. She returned the greeting without turning to face him.

Is she upset? he wondered.

“I made coffee for both of us,” she said, turning cautiously towards him. “I don’t have much to go with it, just some toast and…”

“I don’t usually eat breakfast,” he confessed. “The coffee will do.”

Katya nodded and sighed before speaking again.

“Severus…”

“Katya.”

They both smiled, and Severus gestured for her to continue.

“I’m sorry. Perhaps I’ve been… too forward for you,” she admitted, a hint of uncertainty in her tone.

“No, I’m glad I came,” he said sincerely. He noticed her hair falling over her face, creating a curtain that hid her eyes. Gently, he reached out and tucked a few strands behind her ear. “Besides, your thesis is now ready to present.”

Katya nodded quietly and sat on the kitchen counter.

“I enjoyed it too,” she assured him. “I’d love for you to stay longer. Moscow is beautiful at this time of year.”

Severus also wished he could stay. All that awaited him at Hogwarts were piles of papers to grade.

“I don’t have magical permission to be here,” he reminded her, and she let out a sigh of frustration.

As they approached the fireplace, Katya’s hand brushed against his. Severus felt that despite the complications, something in that night had strengthened their connection. Just before throwing the Floo powder into the fireplace, in a sudden impulse, he leaned in and gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

“See you soon, Kat,” he said, his heart pounding as he stepped away.

[writingquestionsanswered]

I’m currently trying to write/outline a romance novel. It is starkly different from 3 act structures, what plot outlines/structures would you recommend for romance? Do they usually have 2-3 conflicts? For characters, especially for a normal romance, what are the goals usually, isn’t it just to find love or is that too 2d/flat? I can’t find any external/internal conflicts online, some external ones are available, but yeah, mostly unavailable. What are a few examples and what do external/internal conflicts mean in silly romance novels that are not so deep and intense as general fiction? Stuff on this topic are very scarce, sadly. I’d love ur perspective on this! Thank you in advance, love!!

Outlining a Romance Novel

Romance novel structure depends on the type of romance you want to write. Straight up romance revolves around two people meeting and falling in love. There is usually an external conflict against which this romance plays out, which provides the necessary tension, conflict of interest, fodder for misunderstanding, and other obstacles and challenges that create a bumpy road on the way to true love. However, this external conflict is in full service of the developing romance.

A great example of this type of romance would be the romance movies you see on Hallmark and Lifetime. Here's a trailer for a random one, but fair warning that this trailer gives everything away, so "spoiler alert" if that matters to you...)

In Bottled with Love, Abbey and Nick meet when they're forced to work together on a project at the company he works for (where he's the CEO's wayward son.) The project (and their subsequent butting of heads) is the external conflict against which their romance plays out, but the focus is on the development of their relationship, not on the actual project. This story also has the added internal conflict for both characters, which is the "pen pal" relationships they both have going on secretly in the background, which adds additional conflict later on. Lately, romances that play out against genre conflicts are also popular. Like traditional romance, the romantic couple is still central to the story, but unlike traditional romance, the external conflict is given a lot more weight. And, there are usually internal conflicts for the main characters as well. A great example of this kind of romance is Outlander. I'm sticking in the season one trailer, but fair warning... there are glimpses of scenes with violence, nudity, sex, and SA:

In the case of Outlander, Claire and Jamie meet when she is transported back in time from her home era of 1945 to the past era of 1743. In addition to the external conflict of Claire wanting to get back home to her own time, there's also an English officer (who turns out to be an ancestor of the husband she left in 1945) who is determined to make her life difficult. And, the first few books also play out first against the conflict between Scottish highlanders and the British occupiers. And, you can also have a combination of the two, where it's still a straight up romance, but it plays out against a genre background. In this case, the genre-related external conflict is still minor compared to the development of the romantic couple:

In the case of the first and third example, there are very specific romance beats you'll want to hit. A really popular structure template is Gwen Hayes' Romancing the Beat. The Dabble web site and the DIY MFA web site also both have romance structure templates, and there are certainly others you can find via a general search for romance story structure. In the case of the second example, you will want to hit a lot of those beats, but you'll be weaving that into a story structure for stories with a plot-driven element (like Save the Cat! Writes a Novel or the Three-Act Structure.) Just remember, in all of these cases, you don't have to follow a template to a tee. They're just there as guidelines to help you navigate and plot your story. With romance, though, you do want to make sure you hit the important romantic beats.

As for some of your other questions:

Do they usually have 2-3 conflicts? Most romances have both internal and external conflict. Then, there may be multiple external conflicts if you do a story like Outlander which plays out against a genre-based backdrop and has an external conflict related to that genre.

For characters, especially for a normal romance, what are the goals usually, isn’t it just to find love or is that too 2d/flat? Romance beat sheets will clarify this for you, but yes, if you do a traditional romance, a "happily ever after" is the goal.

What are a few examples and what do external/internal conflicts mean in silly romance novels that are not so deep and intense as general fiction? Examples #1 and #3 provide an idea of what the external and internal conflicts can look like in traditional, straight up romance. External conflict in romance usually happens one of two ways: the protagonist leaves their "normal life" and ends up in a place where they meet the love interest. Or, the love interest gets dropped into their "normal life." Some examples:

-- protagonist leaves their big city job to visit their small hometown for Christmas

-- protagonist leaves their small hometown to attend a friend's destination wedding in Rome

-- protagonist leaves their stressful office job and takes a job a bakery that desperately needs a manager

-- love interest is the new partner on the protagonist's work project

-- love interest is the popular new photographer showing up at the weddings the protagonist plans/coordinates

-- love interest is the new supplier for the bakery the protagonist manages

As for internal conflict, it works the same as in other stories. The internal conflict is usually something that is keeping them from moving forward in their lives. Sometimes, whatever it is that brings the love interest into their lives is a result of them trying to break out of that rut. Or, it could be that however their life changes as a result of meeting the love interest is the thing that helps them get out of that rut.

I hope that gives you some direction for how to come up with conflict ideas and how to structure your story!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

♦ Questions that violate my ask policies will be deleted! ♦ Please see my master list of top posts before asking ♦ Learn more about WQA here

[isa-ghost]

cranboo and phil hcs maybe..........

God where do I start with this. /pos

qPhil headcanons masterlist

I know exactly where. *Slams my fist on the desk.* ENDER KING POSSESSION AND ENDER WALK. Being manipulated by a [perceived?] higher being without their consent and to some degree without their knowledge. Doing things they'd never do in their right minds, hurting people they'd never hurt. Becoming cold and self-centered while controlled. Being terrified of how they can barely if at all control themselves.

Phil misses that kid a lot, actually. He was trying his best, and he can relate to just wanting to settle and belong somewhere while trying to put personal demons to rest or at least escape them. He's glad he could pass on some wisdom and give him a sanctuary while he tried to heal and move on.

He wishes he could've taught Ranboo how to not feel so guilty about things. And to have less shame. He started, but feels like he didn't make a lot of progress.

He hopes he'll cross paths with Ranboo again some day. He'd love to see how his Ender abilities have developed, how he's changed and matured, and same with Michael if he has the kid with him. Sometimes it makes him too aware of his immortality, but he does enjoy seeing how people he knew years ago have grown.

He had mixed feelings about Michael_Beloved. He certainly wasn't gonna hurt him whatsoever though, that's for sure. He enjoyed watching Techno's reactions to the kid.

He can't lie to himself, he was honestly kinda looking for some of the same weird quirks popping up while Ender King was possessing him as the ones he knew Ranboo was developing. He's SO grateful he didn't develop the weakness to water (*laughs in amfmn*)

To this day he wonders what Ranboo was doing with those water bottles he asked him to get. He's a bit concerned, but it's none of his business. 🤷🏼‍♂️

I'm not sure what they would've bonded over, if anything, pre-Syndicate, but they Were neighbors in New L'Manberg for a while. Phil really did enjoy it, he just had no interest in the government part. Living in NL was temporary while he got his bearings in this new realm (and recovered from the fresh trauma).

Consider it because he's a people pleaser if you want, but Ranboo was always really good at helping tend to Phil's fucked up wings. And as rich as he was, he always seemed to have health potions or a gapple or something on hand for Phil to have if he was having a bad pain day. That kindness has never left Phil's mind, and sometimes Quesadilla Island residents reminded him of it.

CURSE THOSE DAMN 2X1 RANBOO MINES THAT WENT ON FOREVER, HE STILL DREADS SEEING TUNNELS LIKE THAT TO THIS DAY.

He would've fucking loved to watch Ranboo fruit it up on Quesadilla Island. Sometimes he imagines how he'd react to seeing Phil fruiting it up and it makes him laugh. Tbf on Ranboo's part, to him Phil would've gone from "I have a wife who's a goddess and I don't need anyone else" to "This is my wife, my husband, my fuckbuddy, his boyfriend, my other fuckbuddy–"

Consider: Because Ranboo ended up in the Nether with Michael, Blaze Empress eventually tells Phil she's located them. It may not be HER Nether, but after QI, her and Rose are kinda like "fuck it, we ball" now. Especially because they wanna make sure Ender King isn't being a bitch in some other realm. They'll beat his ass together in every universe. Anyway: Phil hears she's found Ran and they become pen pals via Blaze.

I think Phil being possessed by Ender King with Ranboo's filthy rich ass in walking distance of his house would've been really fucking funny.

The two of them were so shit at referring to themselves as their Syndicate code names. And because of the way things played out, they never had the time to get used to using them at all. To this day they hear those names and just start laughing like idiots.

Tbh if they were to cross paths again now, Phil would be way more likely to be a "bad" influence on Ranboo. Fuck it we Bolas. (I am eating the concept of Ranboo picking up on Phil seeming,, wilder than the last time they met).

[thehaladrielfancollective]

Haladriel Prompts

An assortment of prompts ranging from the hyper-specific to entirely general, modern or canon-compliant, serious and nonsensical. Please feel free to use as many as you like or none at all - if they spark some inspiration, call it a win!

Amnesia

Married in Vegas

Monster x Monster Hunter

"If you love me, you'll stop."

Ghosts

Time-travel to correct a mistake.

Coffee-shop AU (but they're both customers)

"You told my mother we were dating!"

Drunk Dial

Riverside chats

Possessed

Role reversal

Accidental baby acquisition.

Brother's Best Friend

"That still doesn't explain why you hit me with your car."

Fake Dating

Arranged Marriage AU

Summer Fling

How To Train Your Dragon AU

False hope

"Don't waste your love on somebody who doesn't value it."

Buried alive

True Love's kiss breaks the curse

Rival politicians

"It's easy for someone to joke about scars if they've never been cut."

Pen Pals

Group therapy

"Let's make a deal." "Finally swallowed your pride, have you?"

Escape

Academic rivals, teacher edition.

"Just stay on your side. Don't make it weird."

Halloween Party/Trick-or-Treating

Childhood

Throne

Secret Pining

"Leave me. It's no less than what I deserve."

Marriage of convenience becomes rapidly inconvenient.

Umbrella sharing

Crossed blades

Ruler & their sworn guardian

Trapped together

End of the world

Pandemic lockdown

"Can't believe it's been ten years." "Are you kidding me right now?"

Bookstore meet-cute

Reluctant Soulmates

"What the hell were you thinking letting her go on that date?" "She's seventeen."

Lazy morning

Road trip

Secret Santa

"My psychic told me to expect you."

Superhero/villain AU

Salt and smoke

"You're blaming this on me?"

Aftercare

Farmers Market rivals AU

Bound

"I still dream of you, every night. Do you miss me?"

Beach

Taken

Historical AU

Perfume

Enemies to lovers to friends to lovers to enemies

"How could I ever let you go?"

Gamers AU

Mistaken identity

Broken

"This is your fault. "My fault? You're the one who-"

Cinderella AU

Shape-shifter-stuck-in-a-single-form

Someone finds a genie in a bottle. It goes... concerningly well.

"Our love is eternal. Unending. Unbreaking-" "Are you ever going to let me live that down?"

Arthurian Legend AU

Isolation

"Fear me, love me, let me rule you - and I will be your slave."

[dragon-communion]

I'm really full of spite and I'm tired and I want to write Miquella attempting to romance Godwyn pre-Shattering.

Can you IMAGINE.

Godwyn, probably as tall as two or three of Miquella, hanging out in one of the gardens with his datemate Fortissax and talking quietly.

Malenia, offering to suddenly attack Fortissax to leave Miquella an opening.

Miquella talking her down while genuinely stressing and pacing because he doesn't just want to Mind Whammy Godwyn he wants to woo him but nobody's ever explained wooing to the eternally young twin and the epic poems are full of stuff like slaughtering a monster for your love or beating wicked riddles or something. Maybe he could give him flowers???

I'm loving the idea of Miquella getting so stressed that flowers bloom spontaneously at his feet. He gets a little teary-eyed and random servants and guards nearly teleport to him to give him every comfort, but that's not what he WANTS he wants to just Talk To Godwyn the way men do and he's just completely doomed.

There's whispers in the court of marrying Godwyn off to Ranni for political reasons and Miquella stays up late into the night editing and re-editing letters to see what Ranni actually thinks and if he can get away with destroying the potential suit. They've been having somewhat-friendly pen pal debates over the applications of glintstone and amber for years, surely he can do something about this. (She refuses to meet Miquella in person.)

Miquella refusing to wear shoes in Castle Sol, iciest duchy in the land, so Godwyn carries him places.

Both Miquella and Malenia have weird flower/butterfly dysphoria that they handle with varying degrees of effectiveness. Namely Miquella shoves it down so hard it starts to become another person- he's already dealing with the age dysphoria, he doesn't need more. But the one time Miquella and Godwyn talk about it, or talk around it, Godwyn mentions that he wishes he had scales. Trina fronts immediately, pleased and surprised and entirely nonverbal, before passing out right there on Godwyn's shoulder. He's kind of confused about why Miquella turned bright purple but uh. Cuddles work.

One time out of sheer desperation Miquella writes to Volcano Manor because Rykard and Tanith are the only people he knows in an actual romance. Rykard laughs so hard he starts coughing and Tanith tries very hard not to do the same thing. She tells him to dress the part if he wants to woo a man, sends him a bottle of perfume and the best of luck. Sometimes if Rykard thinks about it he starts laughing again, even in snake form.

[nnibarrel]

First appearence of Aruemien (Arueshalae x Ramien) from my pen.

She: stands invisible under the stars and moon. Him: casted 'see invisibility' from scroll and on his way to greet the maiden with a kiss... 1, 2, 3...

+ bonus

This thing actually was born when me and pals from vk fandom made something like spin the bottle event with the pathfinder characters/ And this is litteraly fate that Ramien paired with Arueshalae! I shiped them before that, but that was a signal to action)

[purelyfiction]

the name of someone i no longer know

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

Word Count: 1,406 words

Summary: it's stick season what can i say? also maybe this is whump-tober coded who knows

Content Warning:  alcohol use/abuse, maybe alcoholism, dui mention, police interaction, drunk jake, a little aggression, heartbreak and all around sad

Author Note: what the summary said

Jake had loved California for the reasons that it never seemed to rain. It was flooded with lots of sunshine, beaches and bars. Good music, good friends, good girls and bad decisions to be made.

Until he was sent back to the thick of it - sent to Annapolis to be shipped off for some form of deployment, only to be delayed due to concerns for the ship. Instead of sending him back to California, they'd kept him in Maryland.

Maryland was his personal Hell on Earth.

Flooded with memories of the cooler months, pumpkin patches filled with your laugh, dive bars he'd lost himself in like corn mazes he'd held onto you in. This place haunted him. Especially when it rained and God, did it rain in this damned state.

Another Friday of work slips away from him, until he's at the old bar whose name had been a weapon in the fallout. Jake sits peeling labels of a local beer - they were out of Bud. The jukebox plays a song he doesn't recognize and a couple laughs in the corner of the bar top.

That corner had housed the two of you all those years ago. Conversations about drunken college nights, holidays spent with friends instead of family while deployed, promises made that he'd broken only months later.

His collection of beer bottle caps is turning into a small mountain in front of him. Until the bartender is tapping the wood in front of him. "Last one, pal."

Green eyes groggily flip up to meet his, brows furrowing. "Huh?"

"You've had enough for the night, man." The bartender slides his receipt toward him, the pen alongside it rolling off and onto the floor. The blonde sits up with annoyance.

"I'm fine, first off," Jake slides from the barstool to retrieve the pen off the floor - only to crack his head on the underside of the bar when he stands up, "fuck!"

The man from the corner comes to his side, "Are you alright? That looked like it hurt." When the stranger grabs his arm, Jake rights himself and shoves him back into a barstool.

"Don't touch me." He spits. The stranger holds up his hands to show he's backing off.

"You need a ride." The bartender is pulling his phone from his pocket, Jake shakes his head.

"No, no I'm-" a hiccup breaks his train of thought. The sum of the bill catches his eye and he groans, dropping his initials onto the paper.

"I'll just order you an Uber, where you going?"

"I said no, I can drive." The barkeep nearly gives Jake the stink eye now. As the blonde fumbles his way to the front door, he nearly eats it at the front stoop. He manages to find his way to his truck - a rental no less - he pauses at the sight of an old Jeep Liberty.

The last time he was in Annapolis, he'd bought a cheap one exactly like it off of Facebook Marketplace. He'd needed a way to get around, and considering how often he bounced around, there was no need to buy anything worthwhile.

That same Jeep that you'd refused to get into the passenger seat of one night. You were leaving a friend's Thanksgiving. He'd had too much to drink. You begged him to let you drive, seeing that you were sober - he wouldn't have any of it.

He'd left you in the driveway of your friend's place along the water, snow and all. Annapolis police had him in their custody not even twenty minutes later. Jake had friends in the navy ranks in Maryland, that had helped him avoid a dishonorable discharge at the time - he no longer had those friends.

He also no longer had you.

Jake makes sure his rental is locked before he starts down the road in the direction of the naval base.

His steps are uneasy, a bit sporadic as he walks aimlessly in one direction. A film reel serves as his entertainment for his walk back. Scenes from two years of love, a whole six months of downward spiral toward heartbreak. Total, gut-wrenching and life wrecking heartache. Self-inflicted he now realizes.

The breakup was sharp. His things were packed up. Put into the Liberty. You'd taken your key back, deleted your number from his phone and told him to forget you even lived on the same continent. He'd promised you'd never hear from him.

Jake looks up after a cold round drop plops onto his head. Followed by another. His feet stop walking as he stares up at the rain beginning to fall, the street lamps serving as a backdrop as the downpour begins. He stands there. Watching the rain. His head drops to meet the river running under him, the bridge he stands on giving a viewing point as the speed picks up.

A car slows to a stop just behind him. The headlights make him squint, slowly moving a hand up to block the LEDs that blind him.

"It's a bit wet out here, don't you think?" A voice calls from the side of the vehicle, the door shutting in tandem to another on the symmetrical side of the car.

"Rain'll do that." He snidely retorts, leaning into the jersey barrier along the bridge.

"You think you might wanna find a dry place to settle in? It's getting late, afterall." A second voice consoles him, and Jake realizes why the lights are so damn bright. He'd recognize the striping of the Anapolis police anywhere.

"Ah, I'm-" Another hiccup, "I'm trying to." An older male comes in the rain, graying facial hair, a well trimmed beard as he approaches.

"You look a little lost there, boy."

If only this damn officer knew the half of it.

Neither of them mention his slow reaction times. Or reveal that they'd received a tip from a rather concerned bartender. Instead, they carefully guide him to the backseat of the cruiser. No handcuffs are involved, no harsh words spoken, not a single arrest made.

That doesn't stop Jake from reciting your name, your address and phone number.

Anapolis' police station is dated. The linoleum is scuffed and worn - a creamier brown than he remembers.

"You.. wanna call somebody to come get you, son?"

"I've got- I'll just call her. She'll come." When he pulls his phone from his pocket it's either too cold, too wet, or too dead - or some combination of the three.

The officer with the mustache that matched that of an old friend's hands him two dollars in change, pointing him in the direction of the payphones.

Nine digits. He's got them memorized, though he swore he would forget them.

One ring. Two rings. Four.

Finally- "Hello?"

Your name leaves his lips like a prayer.

The end tone sounds like a gunshot.

Another pair of quarters.

Dial tone. Ring three. Ring four. Voicemail.

Two dollars gone.

"Alright, kid, lets get you sat down for a minute." Jake firms up like an oak tree when the officer grabs his shoulder.

"Hold on, just- I need a charger. Something- she'll call. You've got more change? Just a quarter-" He turns to a nearby woman, desperately leaning toward her, his balance wavering enough that the cop comes to his shoulder again to keep him upright.

"Have you had much to drink tonight, son?"

"I- Didn't- she's gonna call." He mumbles as the officer slowly guides him to a seat. Green eyes look up at the older man and then to the tinted window at the end of the corridor.

"Hate to tell you this... but I don't think she will."

Jake shoots up again, almost falling on his ass.

"She will- I- let me call her again- just one more time-"

The officer resists Jake and his sluggish effort to move back to the phones, finally gripping onto the pilot.

"Sit. I'm gonna get you some water and we-"

"Fuck that. Sir. I just need to get her on the phone- she's not far she-" His words begin on a carousel. Coming back again and again, repeating in the same pattern.

The plastic cup of water in his hands grows warm as he sits in the station. Two officers talk among themselves as they keep an eye on him, mentioning your name. Your address.

The phone number you refuse to use if he is on the other end of the line.

And he waits.