#river on a school trip and everyone else had done it but I couldn’t see and I was scared and everything the whole time was blurry

[oh2e]

We all know there are a dozen iconic and fantastic scenes in Black Sails but I don’t think I’ve come across anyone talking about in series 1 when they board the Andromache and it’s Dufresne’s first time and he’s so scared and he carefully takes off his glasses and we see all the horror through his eyes because that could be him and then the sound mutes and he jumps and someone falls and it goes in and out of focus and then he’s over and he gets splattered with blood and his shot misses and there’s a man firing right into his face and then they’re rolling around the floor and Dufresne has the disadvantage and we think that’s it but then the other man is on the floor and Dufresne just launches himself at the man and tears out his throat with his teeth

Like. Wow.

And we are just left on the shot of the blood spurting out of his neck and then we see the blood and the flies and Dufresne’s alive! DRENCHED with blood but alive and he’s so happy that he’s “a real pirate” and he gets a tattoo and shaves his head and tries to be all tough because fuck me if he doesn’t deserve it but yeah. I just love that sequence.

[xd3str0yax]

Waterparks

Request: Steve being ashamed of his body from the scars post-vecna and Eddie helping him?

“Everybody ready?” Eddie called into the Harrington house. Everyone grabbed their bags and began piling into Eddie’s van to go to the water park. “Where’s your swimsuit?” He asked upon seeing his boyfriend. Steve was in his jeans and one of Eddie’s shirts despite the fact that everyone else was in their swimsuits. “It’s in my bag. Now, let’s get going.” Eddie grinned and started driving.

Eddie had been looking forward to this day for weeks. Throughout high school he would always watch Steve at swim practice, admiring him from his hiding spot. Sure, he had gotten to see him like that a bit in the upside down but he wasn’t in a situation where he could appreciate it. He hadn’t planned the trip just to ogle the swimmer but it was still a bonus.

He could barely contain his excitement as they finally arrived, he was shaking in anticipation. “Yes!” Dustin grabbed his stuff and the cooler and hopped out of the van, waiting impatiently for the others. “C’mon!” He said as he started helping people out. Steve tentatively stepped out of the passenger seat and took a deep breath.

They got their wristbands and headed in, settling at a picnic table next to a lesser known kiddie pool. “I'm gonna go change.” Steve said, running off to the nearest bathroom. Eddie was wearing blue swim trunks with octopi printed on them and a corroded coffin shirt. He gathered everyone’s valuables to put in the locker. Robin & Nancy ran off to a poolside bar nearby, with fake I.D.s, and Dustin, Lucas, and Max decided to hit the water slides, leaving Steve and Eddie alone.

Steve had been gone for almost 20 minutes, Eddie finally decided to check on him. “Babe?” He called, knocking gently on the door. “Just a second!” Steve yelled back. He stepped out a minute later in red swim trunks and a black T-shirt. “Why are you wearing that? You hate wet shirts.” Eddie stated. “It’s nothing, Eds.” He said brushing past him.

Steve hadn’t cared too much about his appearance since his ‘fall from kingship’ but he couldn’t stand his body since he was attacked by demobats. He was covered in huge pink scars where they had torn into him, he was even missing one of his nipples from it. Eddie always wore shirts in the pool but their friends would certainly notice that Steve was wearing one.

“You sure? I was excited to see the captain of the swim team in action again!” He teased lightheartedly. “What do you mean ‘again?’” He asked, partly to change the subject. “Nothing.” Eddie blushed and ran a hand through his hair, like he always did when he was flustered. “Wow. Did the Edward Munson, sports hating ‘freak’ of Hawkins high, watch me swim?” He said, leaning into Eddie’s face like he’d done to him so many times before. “Hush.” Eddie grumbled.

They picked the lazy river. Eddie laid across a tube, belly down, while Steve floated alongside him in the water. It was just like any other lazy river, except for a section connected to a water slide where the water got fast & aggressive. They were having fun talking and splashing each other, until Steve got sucked into the torrent. When he resurfaced, his shirt had been pulled over his head by the water, Eddie was above him so he pulled it up to free him. As soon as he regained his composure, he snatched his shirt and pulled it back on, looking angry and humiliated.

���You alright, sweetheart?” Eddie asked when he saw the man’s expression. “I wanna go back to the table.” He said, walking awkwardly to the pool stairs. Eddie dragged his tube onto the land and started heading that direction, having already lost eyes on him. He walked up and saw Steve angrily eating a sandwich, staring at the boogie boarder on the wave simulation below. “Steve, what's wrong?” He asked, he only called him by his actual name when he was serious. Steve sighed and set his sandwich down, looking at Eddie with a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks.

Eddie rushed over as soon as he saw the tears on his face. “I didn’t want anyone to see.” He whimpered. It took Eddie a second to realize what he was talking about but when he did, an empathetic look spread across his face. “They’re nothing to be embarrassed about. I may be a bit biased but… I think I think they look kinda badass.” He said, gently tracing his fingers along the other’s torso. Steve didn’t fully believe him but it did make him feel a little better. He wanted to insult himself about them but decided not to out loud since Eddie’s scars were worse than his.

“You wouldn’t insult me for my scars, so why should you beat yourself up over yours?” Eddie said, making Steve wonder if he was some kind of mind reader. “I guess you're right but they make me feel like I'm not… ya know… pretty.” He looked away, embarrassed for being so upset over something so arbitrary. “You... are… gorgeous.” He said, pausing between each word for dramatic effect. He gently cradled his face, leaning in close. “I have an idea. How about I take off my shirt if you take off yours?” Eddie proposed, a slightly anxious but comforting smile on his face.

Steve hesitated before responding. “But you never swim without a shirt.” He said, slightly shocked by his idea. “I don’t care, honey. I wanna help.” Eddie reassured him. “Ok.” He said simply, staring at Eddie as he stepped back. Eddie peeled the wet shirt off his body, revealing the scars covering his torso & neck. “You ready, big boy?” He asked, a smile apparent in his voice. Steve nodded softly and removed his shirt.

A grin spread across Eddie’s face as soon as he saw his body. “I love you, pretty boy.” He said, getting closer to the other man. Eddie’s smile was contagious, Steve couldn’t help but do it himself. “I love you too, Eds.” He said, standing up and hooking his fingers into Eddie's belt loops. He was embarrassed but exhilarated as he pressed a deep, passionate kiss to his boyfriend’s lips.

“Gross!” Dustin cried out, shielding his eyes as Lucas explained what was happening to Max. “Damn. I just wanted a sandwich, didn’t expect to find you two fucking on the table.” she giggled out, knowing fully that her hyperboles were grossing Dustin out even further. She walked over and sat down, dramatically shielding her eyes despite the fact that she was blind. Dustin & Lucas followed her, displaying mock-disgust in their own ways. “You little assholes.” Eddie said, looking like he’d never felt shame before this moment. He pulled Steve down to the table and stared daggers at the kids as Robin & Nancy walked up, slightly tipsy. Robin could almost immediately place what had happened from the blushes on the boys’ faces and Max's smirk.

They ate their sandwiches and ran around the park until it grew dark. Eddie, having an acute fear of darkness since almost being eaten alive, let Steve drive the van. He made a big show of telling Steve not to scratch ‘his baby’ as he handed him the keys. They all made it home safely, Steve deciding to stay at Eddie’s trailer for the night. They laid in bed together, each taking in the scent of the other, mixed with the chlorine smell. “Thanks.” Steve muttered, pressing his still shirtless chest up against the other man’s body.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed - Episode 02

Warning: Spoilers for all 50 episodes!

(Masterpost ) (Previous Episode) (Next Episode)

Donkey Riding

way ho and away we go, donkey riding donkey riding way ho and away we go, riding on a donkey

Wei Wuxian and Apple are doing their best for the Ministry of Culture and Tourism. 

Xiao Zhan had trouble riding the donkey sitting side-saddle, so the Department of Questionable Practical Effects made him a fake leg to wear while riding regular style. 

Can you spot it? It’s very hard to spot. It is very convincing.

Simple Pleasures

Wei Wuxian takes his time wandering up the nearest mountain, and half of the cultivators in the land also wander up this mountain because...Night Hunting! The cultivators are hot and thirsty from walking because they forgot that they all know how to fly. 

Wei Wuxian relaxes by a well and listens to people stanning him. 

Also

I’m going to say it: Wei Wuxian never met a drinking vessel he couldn’t blow.

Everything is Beautiful at the Ballet

The actress who plays A-Yan is named Zhang Linran. She probably has studied dance since she was 4 and now she gets her big break which turns out to be feeding an apple to a donkey. So let’s pause for a second to look at how beautifully she moves.  

Reunions are Awkward, Part 1

Wei Wuxian meets up with one of his family members and it goes super well. 

I...like Jin Ling? He’s much less of a douchebag than his dad, his uncles Jin, Jiang, and Mo (the three stooges), and every damn one of his Jin cousins. He’s genuinely brave (his Dad’s primary good quality) and his hair is on fleek. He’s still a whiny diaper baby, but I like him. 

(much more after the cut!)

Then Jiang Cheng shows up, looking fine as hell and radiating peak arrogant-prick energy.

When he discovers that ‘Mo Xuanyu” stuck a piece of paper to Jin Ling, he tells the child to literally murder him. Excellent uncleing! A+++++ would recommend.  

“In fact, literally murder anyone who uses Yiling Laozu’s tools, like talismans, lure flags, or spirit compasses - basically murder everyone in the Lan Clan plus those other fanboys we saw coming up the hill. Then get out there and make some friends, goddamn it!”

These nets full of cultivators on this daytime night hunt are the only time we ever see anything in a net during a night hunt.  In fact dudes constantly go night hunting and the only prey we ever see is rock lady, murder turtle, and a couple of rag mops in the lake. 

You Are Not Qualified to Speak to Me

Also radiating arrogant-prick energy on this occasion is Lan Wangji. He has been using pettiness as a weapon since long before he met this Jiang Cheng turkey, and he *brings it* when Jiang Cheng tries to have a conversation with him.

Letting your eyes wander everywhere except to his punchable face while you ignore his passive-aggressive questions? Quality work. 

Dropping a silence spell on his child and then letting your own child explain it to him? Golden. 

Lan Wangji is never ever going to forgive Jiang Cheng for what he did on cliff day, and his silence here is as pointed as an ice pick. I suspect the last words Lan Wangji actually spoke to him were “Jiang Wanyin, stop it,” sixteen years ago. 

Jiang Cheng is actually the bigger person in this particular interaction, visibly mastering his temper and telling Jin Ling to take his medicine. 

Reflecting

Wei Wuxian hangs out by a beautiful river and hallucinates for a while. River Jiang Yanli is nurturing and River Jiang Cheng is pissed off, so there are no surprises there.  River Jiang Cheng thinks that Wei Wuxian is a promise-breaking douchebag. He’s not exactly wrong. 

Courtesy of convenient gossiping cultivators, Wei Wuxian discovers that the 16 year old arrogant kid from the Jin clan who his brother from the Jiang clan has custody of is actually and quite obviously Jin Rulan.

Well fuck I guess now I care about something, that’s inconvenient. 

Needing to help parent the child of the sister who parented him is what draws Wei Wuxian fully into his new life. 

As soon as he has this realization, Apple comes back from roaming around, and never gives him any trouble after this for the rest of the story. Which...probably doesn’t mean anything. 

Wen Gravesite

Does Wen Ning hang out here because it’s where he and his (dead) people came from? Oh great, now I am sad. 

Judging by all the leaves on this grave thingy I’m going to say that this grave tender dude is, ah, not very good at his job. 

Get him, Jingyi!

I feel like maybe we all focus too much on how Lan Jingyi is so hilarious and sardonic and not enough on how he is a such a biscuit. 

Soul Grass

As mentioned in the previous post, Chinese spiritual concepts don’t always translate well into English. Soul grass? Sure, why not. 

This is where Wei Wuxian’s Sherlock Holmes brain starts to work, although he still doesn’t remember really basic stuff about Dafan Mountain. Dying and changing bodies is rough on the old neurochemistry. This creates more opportunities for flashbacks, however, and if there’s one thing The Untamed deffo needs more of, it’s kissing flashbacks.

Temple Statue

Presumably grave-tender dude is also in charge of clearing away spiderwebs at the temple, because it’s not getting done. 

Jin Ling walks into the temple blaspheming at full volume. 

Since this isn’t a Greek story, he isn’t immediately struck blind for this. Then when he wishes for the statue to come alive, it obligingly does.  Everything’s coming up Rulan!

Wei Wuxian shows up to rescue all the kids by throwing talismans at the monster which does not tip anyone off to who he is. 

Baby Cultivator Babysitting

Lan Wangji chills out in the cultivators’ pavilion with Jiang Cheng and their mutual hate boners.

Meanwhile, Wei Wuxian forgets all about his nephew and turns into cool professor guy, explaining the basics of soul-eating to the baby cultivators and gleefully encouraging their fear of Hanguang-Jun’s punishments. 

Because the Lan babies are good filial children they are super respectful and engaged with this random adult who is lecturing them. They also - like their own Hanguang-Jun at their age - see and admire Wei Wuxian’s intellect. It’s easy to forget how extremely smart Wei Wuxian is, because of how extremely dumb Wei Wuxian is.

Lan Jingyi suddenly figures out Wei Wuxian is not crazy. 

Bis. Kit. 

Then Rock Lady shows up and Jin Ling sticks 6 arrows into her while Lans Jingyi and Sizhui stand around not bothering to draw their swords.

I see a lot of comments about the bad effects in the statue sequences but I think Rock Lady is all right. The figure animation is decent and the lighting is no worse on her than on everything else in the scene. Her hair is nice, for a rock person.

Admittedly I just finished watching Guardian which has CGI monsters so bad they may have injured my retinas and possibly also my DNA, so the bar, for me, is pretty low. Rock lady clears it with room to spare.   

Note: Wei Wuxian’s flute playing does zippity towards controlling the statue. Not sure what his plan was here.

Wen Ning Kicks Ass

Now we get to meet Wen Ning, who appears to be a stone-cold badass. Later we will discover how hilariously inaccurate that assessment is. 

While all versions of Wen Ning are delightful, this version of Wen Ning is also...strangely attractive? He’s got a Patti-Smith-Horses-Era vibe here, instead of his more usual lost-baby-dork vibe. And his dreamy “I have nails in my head” expression is intriguing. 

I mean, he’s not a total snack like zombie Song Lan or pre-zombie Song Lan or blind Song Lan or post-zombie Song Lan, but this look is a good one for Wen Ning, is what I’m saying.

Reunions are Awkward, Part 2

Lan Wangji, who has 99% already recognized Wei Wuxian because of the haunted sword and the fierce jawline and beautiful neck and tiny tiny waist, is summoned by his flute playing as inexorably as the Ghost General was. 

Jiang Cheng also recognizes Wei Wuxian and goes into full beatdown mode, thwarted (silently) by Lan Wangji. Wei Wuxian attempts to preserve his incognito by sassing Jiang Cheng in as sibling-like a manner as possible. 

Hanguang-Jun’s Pro-Ghost Agenda Has Been Clear for Some Time

This Jiang/Lan fight is hilarious when you consider the implications.

Macroexpression vs. Microexpression

Mo Xuanyu brought Wei Wuxian back using sacrifice summons, a dark ritual invented by Wei Wuxian that he, most likely, did NOT show to Lan Wangji back in the day. So it’s a pretty safe bet that Lan Wangji doesn’t know that Wei Wuxian was gifted a body, rather than stealing one.

when your brother turns around, you must whip him you will never live it down unless you whip him

When Jiang Cheng lets loose with Zidian, it’s not just because he’s angry. He’s using purple power to force Wei Wuxian’s ghost out of the body he’s apparently possessed. And Lan Wangji instantly STOPS him from doing that.

Clan Leader Jiang: this person has been possessed, against their will, by an evil ghost

Future Chief Cultivator Lan: Counterpoint: I am banging the ghost

Flashback Time

Welcome to your 30-episode flashback!

Once I used to join in Every boy and girl was my friend Now there's revolution, but they don't know What they're fighting

Let us close our eyes Outside their lives go on much faster Oh, we won't give in We'll keep living in the past

Road Tripping to Summer School

Gosh I’m looking forward to younger, kinder, more relatable Jiang Cheng.

...prick. 

Incidentally, until now this episode didn’t know that Jiang Cheng has smile muscles, and neither did the person who glued his wig on for him.

I Like Rabbits

Here we have our first rabbit in a large collection of rabbit iconography that appears in The Untamed. 

Instead of sending everyone to the Wikipedia page for Tu'er Shen I’m going to take this opportunity to rec the short film Kiss of the Rabbit God by Andrew Thomas Huang (tw: blood, tw:body-mod cutting) which you can read about and watch over at  Nowness.com 

Particularly if you are a queer person of Chinese heritage, check it out. 

So. What the fuck are these? Are they food? 

Are they made from wax? Or corn starch? or pig intestines? 

Wei Wuxian runs off to get laid drunk and Jiang Cheng grumps about it. Jiang Yanli reminds him that being free is a Jiang Clan Rule, so really Wei Wuxian is following the rules by not following the rules. Does that mean he’s not free? My head hurts. 

Jiang Cheng: yes but grump grump grump

Jiang Yanli: Nothing bad will ever happen because of A-Xian’s choices, trust me

Outro

Wei Wuxian faint tally: one  Caught by: the cold hard ground

Soundtrack: 1. Donkey Riding by Great Big Sea 2. Living in the Past by Jethro Tull 3. Whip It by Devo

Fic prompt:  Lan Wangji’s internal monologue while he sits in the pavilion with Jiang Cheng 

If you write a fic from this prompt and want to share, please post a link in comments!

Bonus: Wang Zuocheng, macro-expression king

Episode 03 Restless Rewatch coming soon!

[because-of-a-friend]

Boyfriend!Seungcheol Fluff

Thanks for the requests and compliments anons and @seungcheoluwu​ !!! Y’all are all too sweet! I really hope you guys like this one! Remember everyone, this is a series I only do by request, so if I’m missing someone you want, just request it! I already have Seungkwan and DK requested so those will be out soon!

MASTERLIST

Seungcheol | Jeonghan | Joshua | Jun | Hoshi | Wonwoo | Woozi | DK | Mingyu | Minghao | Seungkwan | Vernon | Dino 

Honestly

Between being a trainee

Debuting in a kpop group

Having the responsibilities of a leader

And always being mostly concerned with keeping the other boys safe and happy

Coups doesn’t really ever think about dating

His life is just a whirlwind of responsibilities that never really seems to end

Anytime the thought crosses his mind, he just reminds himself that he doesn’t really have the time

As the leader, everything falls back on him so keeps any other distractions outside of Seventeen minimal so the other boys can always depend on him no matter when or where it is 

But lately

He feels like he’s been able to breathe easier

Seventeen is successful 

All the boys have grown and are so responsible and able to handle most things on their own 

So Coups is slowly having some responsibilities lifted from his shoulders

And one day he realizes that the idea of dating doesn’t seem so impossible anymore

But who would he even date?

He’s pushed that idea so far out of his head that he hasn’t even considered whether he would date anyone around him 

He’s embarrassed to admit it, but there’s a part of him that’s really shy about things like that so he doesn’t even know if he has it in him to go out and date

And there’s another part of him that he’s even more embarrassed of that really wants a magical love story, a spark

He just doesn’t feel like he has that with anyone near him

And then one day, he runs into you

“Oh my god, Seungcheol?”

He sighs, expecting a fan, readying himself to be bright and sociable 

But he knows you

The two of you went to school together years ago

“[Y/N]?”

“Seungcheol, it is you! This is so great!” 

You exclaim and then pull him into a hug

He happily returns it, feeling a familiar warmth from seeing someone from his past

“This is insane, I honestly didn’t think I was ever going to see you again!” 

“Oh yeah” he looks down awkwardly. “I’ve been busy...”

“Well yeah, you’re only the leader of one of the biggest kpop groups out there!”

He knows that, of course he does

He’s worked long and hard to be S.Coups of Seventeen

But when you say it, he feels shy for some reason 

“Oh yeah... I guess”

You laugh happily 

“Hey, we have to catch up sometime! When are you free?”

Seungcheol rattles off his schedule for the next week

You find a free spot that you share, grab his number, and make the plans

It’s lunch at a restaurant you had never been to before

You sit awkwardly at the table you grabbed and wait anxiously for Cheol to show up

When he does run in, he stops at the entrance to look for you

When he spots you, he pauses, taking time to straighten out his clothes and brush out his hair

He clears his throat and then calls to you

You feel relief fill your veins when your eyes land on Cheol

You wave at him, a grin spread across your face

He rushes over to plop down in the seat across from you

Once you two catch up on what’s been going on, there’s a bit of a silence

He’s worried that that’s it

You two just had those few good moments and now you won’t have anything to talk about anymore

But then you bring up a story from your school days

“Remember that time, Minhyuk was rushing to get to class, but he wanted something to drink first...”

“And his hand got stuck in the vending machine???”

“Yes!”

You both laugh and bring up more memories and laugh more

It eventually opens up more conversation 

And soon speech just flows easily between you two 

Then Seungcheol looks down at his phone and realizes you two have been sitting there for hours

And to him that’s the sign

There’s a spark

“Hey, [Y/N], do you maybe want to get dinner sometime?”

“Are you asking me on a date Choi Seungcheol?”

“Yes, how about it?”

“I think I’d like that very much”

Dating Seungcheol is easy

He makes it easy

He’s attentive and caring and selfless and mature

He’s a cookie-cutter perfect boyfriend

You’re spoiled as hell

Cheol loves deeply and fully and that love spills out in every way imaginable

He spends even more time on his schedule so he knows he can always make time for you

He’s always affectionate and it’s always in the ways that make you feel the most safe and loved and comforted

I mean, it’s hard not to when sitting in his strong arms

And he treats you so tenderly

Hand holding always includes soft strokes of his thumb up and down your skin

Hugs are tight and long and include sweet whispers 

Cuddling is always comfy

He loves random unconventional affection, like tapping his head against yours, brushing your noses together, plucking your chin

Kisses are always either sweet pecks on your nose, forehead, cheeks and lips

Or slow, deep, sensual kisses 

He takes affection pretty seriously since it’s one of the ways he shows he loves you

Sometimes you wonder why he’s so good to you

Or why your relationship feels so... big

Like seriously it feels like something so incredible and beautiful

One night, Cheol is walking you home and you voice your thoughts out loud

He laughs 

“Are you seriously having thoughts like that because you have a good boyfriend?”

You pout

“Seriously, Cheol, I’m just asking, why are you so good to me?”

He shrugs “Cuz I’m dating you?”

“I know that but... I don’t know”

He smiles and pulls something out of his pocket before handing it to you

“Because you’re special and you deserve it” 

You look down at what he handed you and your heart stops

It’s a little paper flower

Your mind gets taken back to high school

It was an overnight school trip 

Seungcheol had actually been able to come on that one, which was rare due to his schedule when he was a trainee

So everyone was excited to have him come along, the whole class celebrated for him to actually be able to come on the trip

You wanted to be excited too in order to be a good classmate

But 

You’d been having a rough week

Things went wrong with friends, family, grades

So you were kind of off the whole trip

You can’t even sleep

So you get up in the middle of the night and sneak out and walk around outside

It’s really pretty 

There’s a forest and a river

The stars are clear

You sit on the bank of the river and watch the stars sparkle in the reflection of the water

You jump when you hear someone walking behind you

“Hello? Is someone there?”

You can hear your voice shaking, and you feel dumb

“Relax, [Y/N], it’s just me!” Cheol’s bright voice sounds out from the darkness behind you

“Oh, hi Seungcheol, what are you doing out here?”

“I just went to use the bathroom. What about you? Why are you out here?”

“Couldn’t sleep”

You shrug and turn back to the river, embarrassed at the feeling of tears filling your eyes

Cheol’s shoulder brushes against yours as he sits next to you

“Wow, the view of this river is something else, can’t get this back home”

You shake your head to try and disguise your gesture of wiping tears off your face with your sweatshirt sleeves

There’s a moment of silence

“You don’t have to be embarrassed of crying, [Y/N]”

You freeze at his words

“Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable, it’s just that... you’re not very good at hiding it”

You laugh a little despite the fact that tears are now pouring out of your eyes

“You wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t wanna burden you Seungcheol”

“It won’t be a burden, [Y/N], I promise”

So you let it all out

You tell him everything that was bothering you

And he listens silently as he folds a piece of paper

Once you’re done talking, he lets you cry it out

“I’m not really good at the whole advice thing sometimes, I’m not sure what to say to help you best”

He grabs your hands and and places the paper in them

“But I will tell you this: I know you’re a strong person and even if you feel like you can’t take it, you can lean on me for help!”

“When did you learn to do this Seungcheol?”

You stare at the paper he’s folded into a flower 

“Oh I can’t remember, I just do it sometimes”

You look up at him

He laughs a little at your expression and leans forward to wipe the rest of your tears off your face

“Why are you doing this, Seungcheol?”

“Doing what?”

“Being so... nice to me. We’re not really friends... I mean, it’s just... we’ve never been super close”

Cheol grins at you

“Because you’re special and you deserve it”

When your mind comes back to the present

You look up to see that Cheol has walked a few paces ahead of you

“You kept this from all the way back in high school? I thought I had lost it”

“You did,” Cheol laughs. “You dropped it on the trail back to the cabins, I snatched it up afterwards”

You stare at the flower, admiring how it’s held its shape all these years

You feel tears start to well up in your eyes

You quickly deflect by making a joke

“So Choi Seungcheol has been harboring a huge crush on an old classmate this whole time”

He shakes his head and grins at you, grabbing your hand to continue your walk

After that, Cheol is your whole world

You feel childish but you believe y’all were fated to be together

You put in the effort to spoil him as much as he does for you

You know he has a lot of pressure with being a leader

So you become a safe haven for him to rant out his problems

And you always do little stress relievers for him: back rubs, spa nights, tv binges with tons of junk food

You buy him little accessories and in-ears for him to use on stage

Sometimes you cook dinner for the boys so they don’t have to worry about it

The other members fawn over you constantly 

You and Cheol develop this ridiculous sense of humor that only the two of you get

You’re just a couple of nerds together

Whenever you’re at events together, he always has his arm around you

When you attend their concerts, he always greets you by running up, wrapping his arms around your waist, spinning you around and pecking your lips

Like I said, your relationship is easy

The two of you just click well

It’s a long time in the making but it’s a beautiful romance that is so worth it

[hanmajoerin]

A/N: Thank you to my good friend for sharing her dream journal entry and inspiring the feel for this one shot because every day InuYasha spent without Kagome must have been an unending dream.

Summary: There were others who loved and needed Kagome even though InuYasha was meant to be with her. He knew this, but gods, the cost of it. He thought he paid it in full by hardly fighting the Bone Eater’s Well, but now there were others who missed her too.

** Nominated for the 2021 2nd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards for Best One Shot 🥺💖

**Third Place Winner for the Best One Shot of the 2021 2nd Quarterly Inuyasha Fandom Awards. Thank you to everyone who voted for this story! I love you all ❤️ ~

II AO3 II FanFiction.Net II

Things to Keep

InuYasha lounged under the shade of one of many trees lining the river near Kaede’s village. Miroku washed his family’s night robes with Gyokuto strapped to his back while Sango burped Kin’u. It’d been over a year since the well sealed. InuYasha still thought about the surprised look on Kagome’s face when he was pulled back, but he prefered to remember her safe in her mother’s arms. It was difficult to do.

Kin’u burped and, within seconds, Sango had the newborn secured to her back again. When she kneeled by Miroku and told him she’d take over, InuYasha’s ear flicked. Despite catching their soft commentary more often, Sango’s tone was much gentler than the half-demon was used to hearing. Miroku made room for her effortlessly, choosing to help by trading clean pieces of laundry with dirty ones.

This was how they all lived now, resting by the greenery and exchanging cloth instead of sutras and oversized boomerangs. He wondered if Kagome’s days were boring like his; she always seemed frantic when he came to pick her up. Maybe she didn’t have time to think about them anymore. It would be easier for her that way.

Miroku shifted, putting InuYasha in Gyokuto’s line of vision. The newborn extended her arm out to him, and he was fascinated by the way her fingers flexed. There was more space between them now than there was last month. InuYasha had never really been around human babies before and it felt weird to compare the lethargic emptiness Kagome left in her wake to the enthusiastic growth of infants. InuYasha offered Kin’u a passing glance. He wasn’t going to tell her mother that an icicle of drool would fall onto her back soon.

The spring sun warmed people in its path and InuYasha’s legs didn’t understand the chill lingering on his torso because of it. Kin’u was gurgling now, gnawing on her fist. Miroku once told InuYasha how remarkable it was for him to tell the twins apart as quickly as he did, but the monk must’ve forgotten his nose. The girls looked the same, but their scents were unique. It was kind of like Kikyo and Kagome’s: similar but only on the first sniff.

The afternoons were getting longer again.

InuYasha opened one eye at the exact moment Sango began shaking out a small, fibrous white towel with blue polka dots. As if possessed by a demon, InuYasha was there. Standing by the river, standing before Sango. The towel never broke the water’s surface.

“What’s that?” InuYasha asked, arms folded over his chest. Sango quickly pulled the towel to her heart. The polka dots contorted in the slayer’s grasp, and her brown eyes widened with the tiniest hint of fear. It was as if she believed InuYasha’s claw tipped fingers would swipe it from her forever. As if. He wasn’t a jerk. Sango glowered at him anyway, firm. She knew what it meant for him to see this, and she wouldn’t let it go just to ease his heartache when it would worsen hers.

The two never spoke about Kagome and he didn’t want that to change. He should have wanted it to, but he didn’t. It hardly made sense, but he’d been struggling to make sense of a lot over the past year. His throat closed up when he tried talking about Kagome. The words refused to leave him.

InuYasha leaned forward, far from Sango but close enough to learn that this wasn’t the item’s first trip to the river. It still smelled like her. Bergamot and lilies and early summer mornings; half blue and half pink skies that fog never touched. “That’s Kagome’s.”

Without meaning to, he committed the thing to memory which explained why he placed it so easily. Kagome asked if he wanted to use it after him and Miroku’s run-in with the moth demon, Gatenmaru. The blood of that bastard’s human lackeys sank into InuYasha’s skin long before his humanity rose to the surface. The towel couldn’t have helped him any, and if he tried hard enough, InuYasha’d probably still catch scent of their blood like phantoms on the wind. The half-demon reached, finally accepting the school girl’s gesture, but Sango turned away. “Where’d you get that?” He asked.

“From Kagome’s bag; it wasn’t the only one in there,” Sango replied, submerging it into the river and forcing more distance between them. InuYasha’s brow twitched, but he doubted the demon slayer cared.

Brown eyes. Bergamot. Unwavering resilience. All of that flowed downstream now. He hated it.

“We–”

“Keh, it’s none of my business,” InuYasha spat, spinning on his heel. The towel was still his business. His arm felt like it was shaking even though InuYasha could clearly see it wasn’t. The plush towel sat behind his closed eyelids, opposite ends fluttering against the side of Sango’s hands as she held it in place. The polka dots grew and shrunk in a rhythm set by the rushing water. A budding mental itch grew to push Sango onto the grass so he could pluck Kagome’s towel out and run far, far away with it.

InuYasha swallowed hard, flicking an ear casually. Kin’u was there and he’d never shove Sango. If he grit his teeth, InuYasha could do it. He could continue letting the demon slayer turn what little he had left of Kagome into meaningless things to keep.

“With the birth of the twins, we felt it was necessary,” Miroku confessed as InuYasha continued walking away. If he stayed, he’d make an ass of himself.

There were others who loved and needed Kagome even though InuYasha was meant to be with her. He knew this, but gods, the cost of it. He thought he paid it in full by hardly fighting the Bone Eater’s Well, but now there were others who missed her too. Listening to Sango ring out the towel, InuYasha knew he was still paying his price. She wouldn’t miss Kagome’s scent like him, but knowing that another part of Kagome was leaving curdled his thoughts, ate at the same damn spot on his chest.

“Whatever.”

InuYasha heard Kagome calling out his name as he settled back against the trunk of a tree further from his initial spot. Like Miroku and Sango gave a shit. The sound of his name–the sound of her saying his name–lingered. Nostalgic.

The slayer handed her washed towel to Miroku, prompting an unwarranted pensive glance to be aimed in his direction. “Keh,” InuYasha huffed, turning his nose away from the monk. He turned it back in time to watch Miroku offer the towel a tender stare. Deep violet eyes looked as if stroking the fabric was a gesture that could be felt across time. If he hadn’t done the same sort of things, InuYasha would have scoffed.

Miroku placed the towel in the straw basket with everything else.

One leg breached past the leaves’ shade and a pair of amber eyes seemed to glow, overseeing a family that perpetuated the same cycle: Hand the husband something clean, one baby coos, put it in the basket, give the wife something dirty, the other baby coos, scrub.

InuYasha cupped his hands together before placing them behind his head. He closed his eyes once more, resting, picturing her running across the plush grass. Kagome waved to him and her hand practically skimmed the clouds. Her shoes never crunched down onto the ground like their friends’ straw sandals did. She was a familiar combination of green and white and black with a dash of red. She had a warmth that pierced through the arrow Kikyo used to seal him, every punch Sesshomaru landed, his own demonic blood, and now the loss of her.

An incessant jangling sprinkled like rain in his mind, wiping away at the sunlight and clouds that Kagome always reached. InuYasha blinked a few times, adjusting to this world with only Miroku, Sango, and the twins. “‘Bout time you finished,” he grumbled, standing fully in the shade.

“You know, an extra set of hands would be helpful next time,” Miroku suggested with a predictable waggle of his brows. InuYasha felt his own brows being dragged down; Kagome should’ve let the monk steal her iron cart and cycle away from them permanently back when they first met.

“No thanks.”

The days really were getting longer. The sun hadn’t budged, poised exactly where he last saw it. Sango snickered and InuYasha brushed past her, grabbing the basket of wet laundry and stomping from the grassy knoll to the main path. A stupid decision, really. The slayer’s eyes could have burnt holes through him if she’d been the right kind of demon. Even though she was a human, this type of stare would–

“Hey, InuYasha,” Sango began, and the half-demon let out an exasperated sigh. He fixed his focus to the huts ahead. Dark wood and reed mats and crackling fires.

“What?” Occasionally, a fractured piece of rock got stuck to the balls of his feet, and InuYasha was half tempted to kick one up to chuck at the trees.

“You can talk to us. You know that, right?”

“Keh.” And there it was, the block in his throat. How could he speak about Kagome like this? There wasn’t any room for the words.

“Is that all you have to say?” Sango snarled as the half-demon continued standing quietly, his expression unchanged. “Ever since the well reappeared, you’ve been acting like Kagome was never here! Don’t you miss her? Isn’t there any–”

“You don’t know a damn thing,” InuYasha ground out, closing the distance between them before the slayer could even finish. He stared down at her, but Sango met his glare relentlessly. She was the one who took Kagome’s towel without a second thought, Sango went through the bag Kagome packed right before their last battle together, and she was the person responsible for carelessly washing away the bergamot and lilies. “Kagome is safe and that’s it,” he finished and he meant it.

Sango grimaced, stomping her foot. InuYasha caught Kin’u watching them, thin brows scrunching just like her mother’s. “Oh, InuYasha, you’re absolutely insufferable!”

InuYasha placed a hand to his hip, yearning to step on a pebble. He scowled at Sango and gave the basket an extra sniff to remind himself how the scent of Kagome barely wrapped around Miroku and Sango’s. His body felt like a chattering leaf. “Did you expect me to cry or something?”

Sango sighed, walking past him and taking back her laundry. “No,” she mumbled, walking ahead of him.

Miroku stopped, clapping a hand to the half-demon’s shoulders. “Try not get too mad, she means well.”

“I know that,” InuYasha huffed, allowing the monk to step ahead. He watched the family, arms crossed over his chest, before picking up the rear. The five continued, a squeamish silence settling over them that left the twins lightly whimpering every now and again.

In a stroke of luck, InuYasha stepped on a rock. Kicking it up to his hands, he contemplated where to throw it. He tossed it in the air a few times. The silver ears atop his head swiveled, and a large grin spread across his features as he honed in on the unmistakable scent of a rabbit in the bushes. Wouldn’t hurt to spook the thing, InuYasha thought to himself, eyes on the forest. Just as he reeled his hand back, he lowered it, turning sharply to face Sango. She was pilfering through the laundry basket like a deranged woman. Ah, she finally snapped, InuYasha noted. “Isn’t there something of Kagome’s that you hold onto too!?” the slayer nearly screamed, thrusting that white and blue dotted piece of cloth like a trophy above her head.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” the half-demon retorted, tucking the rock in his robe. His hand glided past a smooth surface, something foreign to his clothes but close to him nonetheless. His fingers grasped at its binding. Miroku chuckled, much to InuYasha and Sango’s dismay. “What’s so funny, Bozo?”

“It’s just that there is a piece of Lady Kagome that you could never be rid of.” The half-demon squinted, his steeped ire pacified but not peacefully. Miroku inhaled theatrically, placing one hand on his hip and pointing his shakujo in an accusatory manner. InuYasha stepped back, eyes widening. Miroku leaned forward, revealing Gyokuto’s black hair from over his shoulder. “InuYasha, sit!”

“Ah!” InuYasha was instantly squashing his ears at the command, waiting to be slammed into the dirt. He never fell. A shiver sprinted up and down his spine all while Miroku laughed hysterically at his expense. The monk was doubled over, hands holding tightly to his dumb knees. “You bastard!” InuYasha roared, his fist already in the perfect position to whack some sense into that cheap excuse of a holy man. But then two big, brown eyes and cheeks that were way too round filled his vision and InuYasha stopped. Stupid monk with his stupid children and his stupid wife.

InuYasha was grumbling, sounds not forming words; thoughts running into dead ends. And then those thoughts were drowned out, consumed by the sound of his pulse, and InuYasha decided to share it. “I keep this!” He closed his eyes and held out a yellow book that read High School Mathematics: Quick Solutions to All Problems.

“Oh, so you did steal something of Lady Kagome’s,” Miroku responded, walking up to inspect the item.

“Uh, yeah. Wait, I didn’t steal it from her bag, I borrowed it from her house way before we met you lot.”

“Is that one of her school things?” Sango inquired, already mere centimeters from InuYasha. He didn’t remember her being that fast.

InuYasha shrugged. “Dunno, Myoga thought it had spells in it.”

“And you never gave it back?” Miroku asked, a whimsical smirk settling into place. InuYasha wanted to gag. “That would make it a stolen good.”

“Oh yeah, and what’s it to you?”

Miroku took the book from InuYasha, flipping through its pages. Some of them turned in chunks, demon guts and rainy weather having seeped through his robe at some point or another. “It’s weathered; surely Lady Kagome wouldn’t treat her belongings this way.”

“Hey, give that back!” InuYasha objected, attempting to swipe it. Miroku swerved, continuing to review the material like he knew exactly how it read. “I just forgot about it is all.” He was lying.

“I hope it wasn’t important. You know how upset Kagome gets about school,” Sango commented, her shoulders bouncing Kin’u lightly.

“She never said nothing to me about it,” InuYasha brushed off with a shrug, an odd pining for Kagome’s shrill nagging manifesting itself as plain as day. Miroku showed the book to Gyokuto, and she lifted a chubby arm out, her moist palm slamming onto one of the pages. “H-hey! Don’t let your kid touch that, it’s mine!”

Miroku ignored InuYasha completely, a warm expression gracing his features as he let his daughter continue her smacking. “Gyokuto, one day Papa will teach you how to read and maybe you’ll understand this.”

“Good luck, even I can’t make heads or tails of it,” InuYasha said, reaching out and successfully getting it back. The abrupt motion must have surprised Gyokuto because she began crying, and it didn’t take long for Kin’u to join in, and InuYasha let out another groan. This was all too much.

“Aw, I’m sorry, girls. Did the big dog startle you?”

“Whatever, let’s go,” InuYasha grunted, stomping ahead of the family once more.

The red of his robe leaked through to his vision and singed his cheeks. This conversation should never have happened; he shouldn’t have acknowledged that towel and he shouldn’t have gotten so worked up over the sit.

“InuYasha, slow down!” He ignored the request, feeling as if steam shot from his nostrils. He had half a mind to make a break for it, already far past his limit. “Come on,” Miroku all but pleaded.

“What!? What is it that you want now?” The half-demon barked, shoving Kagome’s book back into his robes.

InuYasha couldn’t explain why he’d waited for the two. Miroku’s expression was squared into a place that InuYasha wanted to keep his distance from. It looked like he was about to spout shit straight from the Buddha. “My friend, please understand.”

“Understand what, exactly?”

Piercing deep indigo clashed against flurrying amber.

“That we inhale and must consequently exhale, never experiencing the same breath twice. This is also true for those we meet on our path to enlightenment. They too must leave without returning, but the life they’ve given us can be appreciated long after we’ve breathed anew.” A single bushy brow rose at the analogy. Miroku cleared his throat, continuing, “Lady Kagome may be in her world, but she has managed to keep a part of herself here nonetheless. Through towels or books, my friend, she is with us and we should value that.” He patted InuYasha, right where Kagome’s book lay underneath layers of fire rat.

-X-

• “i know better, but I still feel you all around. i know better, but you’re still around.” -taylor swift, “marjorie” •

[baby-n-boo]

Not Alone- kid!wilbur, older kid!techno, very little kid!tommy, even smaller kid!tubbo, dad!za.

The sun rose bright and warm on the small cottage in the forest, shining familiarly through the thin curtains to wake the thirteen-year-old splayed across his bed, legs tangled in the blue, sheep printed sheets that were a little too small for the bed itself. He groaned, and rolled over, almost falling off the bed as he moved, it being far too early to be awake, especially on a lazy day such as this one. It wasn’t like he had anything to do, no school, no sparring practice, not even any chores. A perfect day to stay in bed until the sun went away again.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t afforded that luxury, as his door was thrown open, slamming against the wall as it swung, and the cool dawn breeze washed over his exposed skin, ruffling his hair gently. “Wake up, wake up, wake up!” an excitable voice squeaked, before a weight threw itself at the bed, making it bounce wildly. Coughing, with a breathless “oof”, he couldn’t help but open his eyes now, to see the almost-vibrating form of his younger brother, a grin splitting his face almost in half. “oh, hey Will.” he muttered, wearily, and reaching for his glasses. “What’s, uh...what's up?” Fighting back a yawn, sure he wouldn’t be getting any more sleep now the kid had invaded.

Wilbur bounced again, his hands flapping excitedly, as he grinned. “It’s my birfday! Happy birfday to me, happy birfday to me!” he squeaked, starting to sing as he slid back off the bed and started spinning in circles while singing. “Techy! Sing with me!” he gasped, holding his hands out towards his brother eagerly, making it hard for the teen to refuse, as he smiled weakly. “I’m getting up, don’t worry.” Techno assured, as he slithered reluctantly out of bed, pulling on the first shirt to reach his hands- one of Phil’s donated pieces- and took Wilbur’s quivering hand. “Yeah, uh...” he started, not really singing, though the nine-year-old didn’t seem to mind. “Ha-Happy Birthday, I guess?” he sounded tentative, like he hadnt quite done it right.

“Yay! Thank You!” Will’s grin only got bigger, showing the gap where his front tooth used to be, as he dragged Techno towards the bedroom door. “Cummon, Techy! Everyone else ‘s already up! Dad sent me to come get youuuuu.” He couldn’t stop talking, excitement flowing through his very veins, at the very premise of a birthday. Techno didn’t quite understand what was so important about it, or what significance it held, especially if it meant waking up so ridiculously early on a summer morning. Still, he muffled his groan as the sunlight streaming through the front windows hit his eyes, trying his hardest to smile encouragingly whenever the kid looked back to him. Even as his head pounded and his broken glasses dug into the bridge of his nose.

Seeing the rest of the group sat about the coffee table, which had been piled high with presents, Techno couldn’t help but wrap his free arm about his chest, as it ached. Tommy was bouncing almost as much as WIlbur, holding a small, sloppily wrapped bundle tight in his lap, like it was precious, whilst Tubbo, the youngest of the boys, was sat, wedged right up against the edge of the couch, nervously gripping Phil’s sleeve as he saw the eldest be dragged in. Phil, himself, had taken a comfortable seat right in the centre of the couch, a sheepish smile on his face as he saw Techno’s bewildered face. “Hey Will? I don’t think he wants to be pulled everywhere?” Phil drew the boy's attention, chuckling slightly as Wilbur rushed an apology, stumbling over the words, and threw himself into the dining chair that had been hastily decorated with some balloons, to signify a birthday boy’s throne.

Trying to clear up the misunderstanding, Techno held up a hand, ignoring how the too-big sleeve flopped over his fingers, and muttered his own apology. “No, really, it’s my fault, I...i wasn’t going fast enough. It’s fine.” The words fell on deaf ears, however, as Phil smiled apologetically for Will’s behaviour, beckoning the eldest of the four over to sit with him. Instead, he elected to sink down, crosslegged onto the floor, leaning awkwardly against an armchair, and hugged his knees to his chest to hide the way it was aching. It wasn’t like it was a new position, he liked to sit on the floor, and Phil had stopped questioning it now, sure he would sit on chairs when he wanted to, but, especially today, he could enjoy the fact the spotlight was as far away from on him as it could possibly be.

Subtly combing his fingers through his bed head, he watched through strands of unruly, candyfloss hair as Will descended like a vulture onto the pile of gifts with Phil’s blessing, surfacing with the biggest one. He looked to the fatherly figure for approval, and, after he received a nod, dug all ten of his fingers into the thin wrapping at the same time, yanking to open it in only the way a nine-year-old really could. Shreds of paper went everywhere, Tubbo giggling as a piece landed squarely on his nose, Will’s eyes racing hungrily over the bundle of brown and black that fell out. “It’s a coat like mine, I thought you might want to have one.” Phil explained, as Will unfolded it to reveal a rather less tattered trench-coat than the one Phil was speaking of, the one hung beside the door. Squealing, he held it tight to his chest, almost tripping as he ran over to Phil, and threw himself at him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'm gunna wear it everyday, and ill be so cool!” He promised, ignoring how Phil was laughing openly at how big it was. His hands barely even came to the elbows, the tails dragging on the floor behind him as he excitedly ran to his little brother to show him. “Look, Look, Look, Tommy! I’m so cool!” he yelled, as Tommy almost bounced right out of his seat.

“Uh-huhs! You look awesum, Wilby!” the blond grinned, his hair falling over his eyes as he nodded enthusiastically. Wilbur seemed to glow at the praise, his mind racing a million miles an hour as Tubbo nodded to back up Tommy’s point, the sun seeming to shine specifically on him in that moment. “We’re gunna have such cool adventures! Oh, Dad, Dad, Dad, can I go play? I'll be really good, promise!” Will begged, pointing to the window, through which he could see a few animals milling around, the salmon in the river playing lazily in the sun spots. Phil looked amused, shaking his head a little, as Techno stifled a snort. “Maybe later, lil siren. For now, look! You’ve still got more presents! Tommy, how about you give Will yours next?” He carefully redirected the point, relieved as Tommy gasped, and whirled round to grab the brown paper wrapped bundle from where it had fallen to the cushion during their bouncing.

Pushing the sleeves up, and suddenly looking a whole lot more mature as he did so, Wilbur accepted the gift, graciously thanking his little brother, even as the paper almost fell apart in his hands. He tried his hardest to be gentle with it, especially as Tommy watched on, sure that it was precious. And, as he finally unwrapped it from the tissue paper, and it fell into his hand, he couldn’t help but gasp. A small, hand-engraved locket had fallen into his hand, the chain thin and delicate, as it rippled between his fingers, dangling down. Cautiously opening it, Will smiled wide, faced with a picture of his dad, hand on each of his son’s shoulders, Tubbo sat in front of them, all wearing genuine smiles. That was sweet enough, to have his family staring back at him, but the other side held a picture of a pink haired pre-teen, wearing strangely formal clothes, but recognisable all the same. “Techy! Techy look!” Will smiled, rushing over to thrust it in the half-piglin's face, so he could see. The addition of his own picture in the clearly family-heirloom made Techno’s heart flutter a little, especially as he could tell it had been Phil’s experienced hand that had put it together. He replied with a sof smile, and a quiet “huh, ‘tis me, yeah. Thats pretty cool, Will.”, trying his hardest to catch Phil’s eye to send a grateful look his way, though the old man seemed to be purposefully looking away, a slight blush the onbly sign it had affected him at all.

Gently slipping the chain over his head, Will let the heavy piece rest halfway down his chest, as he headed back to the presents, not seeing how Techno’s eyes had glossed over a little at the gesture. Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t even notice as the pile slowly dwindled, more and more activities or toys or clothes spilling out of the bright paper, almost drowning the kid, at least not until a ball of paper caught the side of his head, making him zone back in. Quickly scrubbing at the tears that had, rather embrassingly, slid down his cheeks whilst he hadnt noticed, Techno turned his head towards the perpetrator of the assault, scowling slightly when he saw it had been a laughing Phil.

“That hurt.” he complained bluntly, rubbing at his pointed ear, where it had caught him, adjusting the course strands of hair he had tucked behind said ear, instead of tying it up. “Sorry, son. It’s just, we’ve been calling you for a couple minutes now.” he apologised, rubbing his neck awkwardly, especially as Techno’s eyes widened at the endearment. Before he could question it, however, Phil spoke up again. Or at least, tried to. “I was gunna-” he started, before Wilbur jumped in, having changed from his pyjamas to a loose, hempen shirt and some jeans, with, of course, his precious jacket.

“We’re gunna go play! You wanna come with us?” he enthused, pulling his boots onto the wrong feet in his excitement, and making Phil have to stoop from where he was helping Tommy with his buttons, to swap them over. “Let’s play revolution!” he continued, Tubbo following mutely but happily behind the two boys as they ran to the door, his oversized, hand-me-down green shirt flopping around as he moved. “It’s no fun with just one, two of us! Tubbo doesn’t count when we play, he’s too small.” he protested, as Techno went to shake his head, really not feeling up to playing pretend with the boys that day. He had too much to think about. Phil wasn’t having any of it, though, picking up his sunhat from the hook and calling across the room. “Come on, Tech, We’ll all go, I have to head into town to get something anyway, you can come me if you arent going to play with them.” He left no room to wriggle out, making Techno heave a sigh, and nod, slipping away to his room to change. He could hear the excited screams as Phil opened the door to let all three of the littler kids out, and the following yell to “be nice to Tubbo!” as Tommy obviously left him behind to run into the cooler woods.

It didn’t take long to slip into a light, ruffled front shirt and some black dress pants, Techno feeling more comfortable in the antique style clothes, though he couldn’t help sinking down onto his unmade bed, as his stomach ached harder. It might have been hunger, since he hadnt eaten anything since the previous night, but, hearing the faint whoops of Will as he started up one of his too-complex games, Techno knew it wasn’t anything as physical as that. No, it was much deeper.

Quietly wrapping one arm about his stomach again as he headed out, having shoved on some boots, and thrown his too-long hair into some semblance of out-his-face, he tried to paste on a sort of smile for his adoptive carer, sure he’d never hear the end of it if he showed how much he wanted to frown. He did gain a small eyebrow furrow, but, luckily, Phil had the sense not to push, instead pulling out a wide brimmed straw hat for the easily-burnt half-piglin, and passed it over. “Here, we have to go get the cake for later, I had it made specially by that baker in town.” He was reading off a scribbled grocery list, clutched in one hand as he grabbed a basket with the other, not even looking away from the writing to catch the rest of the stuff trying to tumble out of the cupboard, and shove it back in. Techno nodded quietly, knowing the one he meant, and planning how best to Not-Be-There, since it was probably the busiest store of the waterfront on a normal day, never mind today, when everyone would be seeking pies and pastries for their summer parties. He notoriously wasn’t good with crowds, though he didn’t dare tell Phil this, in case it was a nuisance, instead opting to take a peek at the list, and offer to get something else at the same time.

The sudden burst of helpfullness didn’t escape notice, but, given how much he had to get, Phil didn’t much mind, setting the teen on the job of collecting fruits, and stashed the list away in his pocket, to plot the rest of when they got there. He wasn’t sure how long his boys would be out, but he really didn’t want to keep them waiting too long if they got bored before he got back. Having pre-prepared a tray of snacks and water bottles earlier in the day, he quickly propped the door open with a foot, popping it on the low, end table just outside, for precisely that purpose, before waving a hesitant Techno through with a smile. “Out we come, then.” He joked, pulling out the key to lock the cottage door behind them both, his shoes thudding familiarly on the worn stone step, reminding Techno he wasn’t gunna be going on his own, as he shuffled awkwardly between feet.

He wasn’t used to going out without his cape about his shoulders to help hide him from the world, but even now, he could feel the sun beating down on his shoulders and back, warming him almost to discomfort, even without the thick layer of velvet. He cleared his throat, easily falling into step just behind Phil as they passed the squeaky, broken gate, and straight into the field across the road, taking the wooded path shortcut, much to the relief of the teen, not sure he could have made it all the way up the main road and back today. The rustling of the wheat, and foraging of smaller animals was all that breached the comfortable silence that settled over the two of them as they walked, having established that neither was good at small talk months ago, back when days still came and went in darkness.

They had their own minds for company, for the most part, Phil seeming to hear songs on the wind to hum along to tunelessly whenever he felt like it, and really, Techno wouldn’t have it any other way, especially as it gave him something else to focus on, other than the weird feeling he was struggling to put a name to. He may have squealed slightly as a cow wandered across their path, spooking him a little, and causing Phil to chuckle, squeezing his shoulder a little with his callused hand, but, if he had longed for the warm touch to linger a little longer, well that was between him and the trees.

Before long, the trees thinned out, bit-by-bit, interrupted by houses where they would fit, until, by some strange occurrence, they found themselves stood in the town square, like they had been there all along. Still not used to how sudden it felt, Techno spun gently to get his bearings back, before pulling on the basket. “I’ll...i’ll go to the market, if you want to go get the cake before it gets too busy?” he offered, flinching at the merchants hawking their wares at the top of their lungs only a little ways away. Phil nodded, seeing an opportunity to join the three-person queue, hurrying off with barely another word than “Meet back here”, leaving Techno stood, clutching the basket to his chest, in the middle of the path.

Luckily, most people knew Phil, and so, by extension, Techno, in this small village, shaking their heads good-naturedly as he wandered the stalls, looking for the carrots. Trying to ease the furrowed brow he always seemed to wear, they called out jokes, or offered discounts, but he mostly kept his head down, shoving the number of vegetables he needed into the basket, and holding out the money to the appropriate local merchant. Really, he needed to buy Will a gift, since he had flat-out forgotten what the day was, and he really didn’t want to give Phil a reason to put him back out on the street where he had found him.

Finding he barely had enough coins left in the small pouch Phil had handed him for a hunk of cheese, Techno sighed, dejected, sure he was going to have to pick a flower and pretend it was important, and turned to leave. His last hope was a new stall, tucked right in the corner, boasting rare and wonderful treasures he was sure would be cheap tat. Sidling up to the stall, he tried not to be intimidated by the trader keeping their head shrouded in the shadow of their green cloak, and instead, muttered “Do...Do you have anything for a handful of bronze?” like it was something to be ashamed of. The merchant gasped, pulling back the blanket that had covered their wares previously, to show a distinct lack of prices. “Anything here may be purchased for your budget.” He spoke smoothly, as if luring Techo into making a mistake.

For the most part, he had been right, it was cheap tat, painted bright colors to attract fools. But leaning up against the side of the rickety shelf, stood a gleaming wooden instrument, as if begging to be bought, as if it wanted to be played. He couldn’t help but smile, knowing it was perfect for Wilbur, no questions asked. Pointing to it, he nodded. “I want that.” he spoke bluntly, leaving no room for error, watching as the strange merchant picked up in a gloved hand, and inspected it. “Ah, yes, a wonderful choice. I am sure it will be in good hands. That will be five bronze then.” He held out the spare hand, for Techno to upend the coin purse into, watching as five scuffed, browning circles fell out. Snapping the hand shut before he could take the coins back, the strange merchant lifted the instrument over the desk to Techno, knocking back his hood in the process. “Very good.” He spoke, not seeming to notice as Techno backed away, eyes transfixed on the smiling mask he wore over his own face.

Slinging the carrying strap of the instrument over his shoulder, Techno took off running, the basket of carrots banging against his leg as he moved, only daring to look back when he got to the familiar vegetable stalls he had grown up with. The merchant was gone, only a dusty corner left where he had once been, as if it had all been imagined. Rubbing his eyes, behind the broken rims of his glasses, Techno panted, sinking down onto the bench he had been told to meet Phil back at, and tried to calm himself by rubbing his fingers up and down the thick material of the strap. It didn’t make any sense, but, shaking it off as the old man walked up with a carefully balanced patisserie box, he stood and smiled, holding up the basket. “Got ‘em.” he spoke quietly, feeling slightly better at Phil’s affirming smile of praise.

“We should hurry back, Tommy’s attention span isnt too long.” Phil chuckled, speaking fondly about his middle son, shuffling the box to a more sustainable position. “Then, cake! Which I'm sure everyone is excited for!” Techno nodded softly, watching as the baker’s daughter, Niki, ran across the square, chasing pigeons and laughing. She was only a few years younger than Will, but somehow she looked so much smaller, more innocent. He only hoped the best for her. Hoped she would grow up loved and cared for.

Pulling his attention back to the present, he saw Phil had already strated walking, hurrying to catch up with him, and walk in time. The journey was so much quicker on the way back, the path clear of wandering cows, Techno even finding some suspicious looking mushrooms he might have been able to make a soup out of, just growing at the foot of a tree. He didn’t dare pick them, knowing how many people walked their dogs through the wood, but he did make a mental note to research them in one of Phil’s many books when he got some free time.

Soon enough, they were heading back through the wheat, greeted by three tired looking kids, as they lazed about in varying levels of sleepiness on the front lawn. Laughing as Wilbur instantly perked up at the cake box, Phil ushered his boys aside, handing the heavy and cool box to Techno whilst he unlocked the door, trusting him with the responsibility. He didn’t take it back as everyone rushed in, either, letting Techno go last so he could get the box onto the dining table with minimal little kid help. It was a nice feeling, especially as Phil got everyone cleaned up and seated, giving the eldest the honor of opening the box, to reveal a white frosting covered cake, “Happy Birthday, Wilbur” piped on the top with yellow, cursive icing. Practically bouncing off the walls, Wilbur begged his dad to let him have some now, to which Phil reluctantly relented, moving to get plates and a knife to cut the cake with, with the warning they were only allowed a small slice, so they would still eat their lunch. Tommy didn’t seem particularly pleased with the news, protesting “but daaaaaad” loudly, giving Will the perfect opportunity to start talking Techno’s ear off.

“Birfdays are the bestest! I want it to be a birfday everyday! You get cake, and presents, and....and....cake!” he smiled wide, humming happily to himself as Techno offered a tight smile, the feeling only getting worse. “When is your birfday, Techy?” Will asked curiously, as Phil came back with a stack of chipped mismatched plates, and a small utensil to cut the cake with. “Yeah, actually, Tech, when /is/ your birthday? I havent seen you celebrate...” Phil chimed in, seemingly confused when Techno slumped, shaking his head a little.

“I...i,uh, don’t have one?” Techno whispered, flinching as Tommy yelled “What!” at full volume. “Everyone has birfday.” Wilbur seemed confused, especially as Techno shook his head. “Not me. I don’t know when mine is. My family never told me.” He continued, eyes flicking to Phil, who was frozen in panic-stricken thought. Wilbur nodded quietly for a moment, then leaning over a dozing Tubbo towards the cake, and smeared his finger in the icing, rubbing out his name from it, leaning back grinning with his icing coated finger in his mouth. “There. It can be today.” he spoke as if it was that easy, Techno gaping at how kind the gesture had been, his mind not caught up enough to protest, not even as Will pulled the locket from around his neck, and put it round his brother’s. “Happy birfday, Techy, from your family.”

[friiday-thirteenth]

right right right c a m p

ok. ok so it was very long and I'm unbelievably tired but also my head says write it down so uh

day one- five hour bus ride. it was fun, bc the person I was sitting beside slept the whole time and I got to joke around with the guys, who were surprisingly chill. they only brought up p*rn once, which is like.... good for them all things considered lmao

then we had the tramp in. the campsite where we were staying at the first night was the farthest from base, and one group biked in while the other tramped.

my groups tramp took s i x h o u r s. no other groups went over five. we had to keep stopping bc a) one kid was feeling sick, b) one kid rolled her ankle and c) we weren't allowed to sprint off into the Bush and potentially die without an instructor with us.

so there were like, four of us who were constantly at the front, and they were: me, my crush, my crushes best friend, bitch-who-bullied-me.

twas interesting.

we got the campsite in the dark, after a river crossing in which my socks got soaked, as did my shoes, and the tents and food were already sorted for us so that was great. food was shit, though. mince that was half brown water and cold pasta.kept us going, though, and as became my motto throughout camp, food is food.

that night was the only time I cried. kinda sad, tbh, but it was bc on the 'girls' side (as we all know that if the boys and girls tents were together, absolutely everyone would just be going at it, of course (jfc they have a low opinion of year tens (we sorta deserve it though, stuff happened with last years year tens...))) everyone else was paired up and even the people in three person tents didnt want me in there 🥰🥰🥰🥰 really felt the love there, guys.... jokes on them I slept by myself each night and was ready within five minutes each morning. actually really glad they showed how much they didnt care abt me bc it was really nice being alone in the wilderness, and that's not sarcasm.

anyway. day two.

woke up, was ready within ten minutes bc I woke with the leaders, who wake ten minutes before we're meant to and get themselves and breakfast ready before we're up. (I'm really fast at waking up, but take ages to go to sleep. like, everyone has to stfu before my body's able to start shutting down, and as soon as there's people moving around I'm up like a shot.)

anyway. I had eaten breakfast and was washing up before anyone else came out. next kid out was my crush, and we bitched about people taking forever for a while, which was fun.

then we waited for ages for everyone else to get sorted out, blah blah blah, and we had the bike ride back. 11.5 kilometers, I think,mostly downhill for us.

it was fun! I'm not a brilliant biker, but I kept near the middle-front of the group, and i just. let go of the brakes going downhill. and these hills were bloody steep and gravelly, plus the dips and river crossings.

I didnt fall off the bike, but one kid did lmao. there was this sharp turn before a metal gate, and He saw the gate and started pulling kn the brakes, but he hit the front brakes and just. flipped. the bike crashed into me and he went to the ground.

it was funny in the afterwards, but the kid got rather grazed lmao. he's not dead though, so that's good.

we were at the campsite that was, in my opinion, the coldest that night. also I slept in a three person instead of a two person, and by myself that meant more body heat was going into the tent. brrr. but we also did the nightline activity(hold onto a rope and follow it through the dark forest while blindfolded and with a helmet on. highly recommend it. go do it with friends u trust lmao)

I was behind this slow kid and he tripped at one point so I just. went ahead of him. then I spent around half an hour walking through the dark by myself (I walked into five trees. each time I took a step back, glared at it through the blindfold fifty five seconds and then continued around it with a muttered bitch. I'm nothing if not dramatic.) before I crashed into my crush hehe. it was near the end and we just got to the end at the same time, where two others already were. it was chill, we talked for a while. bullied people who were going through it by whacking trees they were near with sticks and shaking the line as they tried to use it. (we were allowed to, dw)

the next day, we went canyoning and holy frick frack fuckedy fuck fuck, that was c o l d. freezing. I jumped into the water and nearly died (exaggerated) but my crush jumped through a fricken waterfall and couldnt feel his hands or feet for ten minutes. another kid was walking funny bc he'd waited in the water for five minutes, and this shit was cold enough that we were wearing wet suits and thermals.

once we were dry and dressed (we got to have showers. h e a v e n (I only took 10 seconds bc like, why tf would you need a longer one? people took fifteen minutes, like wtf)) we went rock climbing! which was brilliant, honestly. I liked the belaying more (I've got this thing where I prefer people trust me than me trusting them, hmmm I wonder why) but also climbed the hardest one! it was really fun, and I only fell like fourteen time at one point (lmao,the rope caught me each time but I looked like a fuvking idiot hehe)

then we slept at a campsite which had a fire kn the beach!! if was so much fun. we also did a solo, which involved us sitting in the wild for twenty minutes and reflecting upon camp. I lay on the ground and stared at the moon. it was lovely and peaceful, until two kids started talking.

side note, guys voices are lovely and deep and rumbly and very nice (in general) but girls are generally higher pitched and ugh, it can be v e r y bloody annoying when ur trying to contemplate life.

possums visited camp that night. woke up in the middle of it to a possum crashing into the side if my tent, and I just. stopped breathing for a minute while I listened to it. a possum growling sounds terrifying. look it up!

also heard cows that night. cows are good.

day four, we abseiled. holy s h i t, it was fun. just... sitting there and watching the river and and rock and dangling in midair.... god, I loved it.

then we went to the high ropes course. this was b r i l l i a n t. we'd done low ropes st some point, but high ropes involved more belaying, which involved, and then at one point, we did a thing called the leap of faith, which was around eight meters high and you climbed to the top of this cylinder of wood before jumping for a trapeze. I knew I wouldn't get it, so I jumped on two when they counted down for me, and I missed lmao. but it was bloody brilliant.

then we had to do a whole shitton of cleanup,which they don't normally get groups to do, but we were s p e c i a l (as in our school gets to clean things we dont even use, sigh) before camping one last night. I had go share with someone, it was gell, packed up at least four tents in the morning bc I was very good at that for some reason,before we hot back to camp and went to the bus and oh, that was brilliant.

I finished my book, chatted with the guys, chatted with my crush for .5 of a second, had that thkng happen where people see you talking to a guy and are like ooOOooohhHHHHHhhh they're dAtiNG bc we're all stupid year tens and it was fucking hilarious (I've never dated anyone, so peopke bloody obsess over pairing me up with someone and I'm just like??? fuckers I'ma child how abt no (sidenote there was a couple on camp and they were cute but uh. year ten relationships dont really last, according to my year 13 camp leader (she was chill af, and basically showed me a whole new perspective on being friends with guys and so in conclusion she's bloody brilliant))) anyway they came up with a ship name for me and the guy and I nearly pissed myself laughing bc its best to laugh along with it and it was really funny tbh

anyway. we also for some reason talked abt sex and porn a lot and it was weird but also kinda chill bc most of the boys are relatively respectful of the girls,in the sense that we all make dirty jokes to each other but don't cross the line, so it was pretty funny and chill. also guys apparently never stop making dick jokes and that type of shit and it was kinda funny tbh

then we got home, grabbed our shit, and legged it away from there.

now I'm gonna rant abt my crush hehe

he was like, oh who's this? when we were walking to dinner in the dark one night (I was in front of him and his friend and he couldn't see my face) and then fucking knew who I was from the way that I walked like mate, why tf do you know how i walk and how to describe it, hmm?

I flipped him off after he said that though it was fucking funny

also!! he just. stared at my eyes and was like, are your eyes different colors? and I was like yeah. and he just nodded slowly and we maintained eye contact for a while. twas weird.

we have staring contests a lot too?? like, he'll look at me or I'll look at him and then at one point he was like, you just stare at people and then tilt ur head, dont you! and I was like wtf dude,but also I kept eye contact bc its a Thing.

also on the bus ride home he just mimicked my facial expressions and it was really bloody funny and j broke out laughed and he smiled

yeah basically I'm hopelessly crushing on him bc he's smart and sarcastic but it never gonna happen so I just wanna be friends type thing. sigh.

ANYWAY. camp was kinda great, at some points it left me feeling like I was so bloody alone and also I felt really shitty mentally but I kept going and i really enjoyed it! yeah! also i nearly cried when i said goodbye to my instructors bc they were brilliant and I'm gonna miss them so bloody much, I'm sad I'll never see them again.

yeah.

[withabackpackandcamera]

July 4th, 2021 Day 9: Ending Our Last Full Day With A VERY Full Day Indeed

We arrived at the streetside parking lot for Geldingadalsgos (based on what I found out from Jeroen, the vent that I was taking photos of isn’t the volcano volcano, but more so a vent of a bigger volcano system; therefore, the vent itself doesn’t have a name, the eruption is called Geldingadalsgos, and the volcanic system is Fagradalsfjall Volcanic System. So, 60 Minutes named it wrong… lol) around 12:15am or so, at which time there were probably somewhere between 20-30 other cars parked. Yup, we didn’t even start hiking until after midnight. Indeed, we were a bit crazy and so was everyone else out there at an ungodly hour. Anyhow, because I got a little bit of rest in the car thanks to Minh’s driving, I was ready to go and see this volcano again.

Unlike the first trip to the volcano on our first day here in Iceland a week ago, this trip was much nicer despite the time of day we hiked. Instead of clear skies with heavy midday sunlight, we arrived as the sun was setting in the colorful orange and pink sky. The skies were darker than expected but the night itself teased us but never actually came in full force. The wind today was calm and collected compared to the violent winds the guys in the group endured last week. And the hike up the mountain was much smoother and easier than the first time up, likely because the authorities had done some fixing up, de-graveling, and repaving of different routes to make it safer for hikers. With conditions being great for hiking (and because I had emptied my camera bag of nonessentials), I made it up the mountainside in about 50 minutes or so, which was much faster than the first time. Cynthia and Minh slowly made their way up behind me since I was rushing to get to the top and they weren’t really into rushing.

Once at the top, I scurried across the ridge and to the same area that I had already hiked to last week, hoping for a good vantage point for some volcano photography. Most of the conditions were great for photography on this early, early morning. The skies were beautifully colored. The weather wasn’t too cold or windy. And the volcano was a little more active today compared to last Saturday. But the conditions weren’t perfect because we were still far from the volcano, the volcano wasn’t spewing out enough lava to make lava rivers that we could see from where we were, and the darkness of the lava field and volcano made it hard to take great landscape photos without the contrasting colors of lava rivers. But I guess that when you’re traveling on a tight schedule and you’re looking to photograph natural phenomena like erupting volcanoes and vents, you just have to make do with the photography conditions you’re presented with and live with the result.

So I just took out my camera and started taking photo after photo after photo of the vent spewing lava. I attempted to take portraits and action shots of the volcano and its activity as well as landscape shots of the volcano in relation to its beautiful surroundings and the gorgeously colorful sky above. I moved to a couple of different spots to try and find different perspectives from which to shoot from but ended up spending most of my time at one location where Cynthia had found a spot to sit and chill.

Throughout our time there, I tried my best to look for Jeroen, the photographer I was communicating with on Instagram. When I had contacted him earlier in the evening to help assess the volcano situation for the evening, he told me that he too was headed to the volcano and that if we spot each other, we should definitely say hi. But unfortunately, I never did catch him there. I later found out that he had hiked way past the point where I had stopped and had made his way over the mountain ridge and to the backside of the valley and lava field, where he discovered lava in action. He found a place to see lava (relatively) close up! So jealous! And that’s the problem with attempting landscape photography on a short schedule… You just don’t have enough time or energy to roam around and scope out areas after a packed trip full of sleep-deprived days. How I wish we could’ve had another whole week in Iceland just to hang out in Reykjavik and follow the volcano live stream until we found the opportunity to leisurely make our way over to photograph the volcano when its activity increases.

We stayed at Geldingadalsgos for quite some time and didn’t actually start heading back to the car until close to 4:00am. Minh and Cynthia went on ahead as I took some time for my last few shots. Once I finished, I ended up basically running down the mountainside and arriving at the split in the hiking route at around 4:15am, at which time I could see the heavy clouds and fog rolling in over the mountains, creating a beautiful, early morning scene. I caught up with Cynthia and Minh shortly after that and by the time we actually turned on the car to leave, it was around 5:00am or so. Yeah, really late and really early… I drove home as everyone crashed in the car and got us all home safely around 5:30-6:00am, at which time we all just crashed, knowing that there was little sleep to be had this morning. Because we had an appointment at 9:00am to get our COVID swabs completed for our flight back home, we slept for a measly 2.75 hours until 8:45am, at which time we had to wake up and jump into the car to drive to our testing site. Luckily, the line and swabs were quick and we were in and out in about 15-20 minutes.

We went home after the swab. The three of us who were out until early this morning were pretty exhausted and groggy. But because it was our last full day in Iceland, Cynthia was determined to make the most of it despite severe sleep deprivation. So instead of taking a nap like Minh did, Cynthia and I joined my parents on a morning walk to explore downtown Reykjavik. We started from our AirBnB located near Klambartun Park and slowly made our way toward Laugavegur, the main street lined with shops and stores that ran through downtown Reykjavik. As we strolled down the quiet street, we spotted a long line in front of a store and decided to take a closer look at what people were waiting for. And it was pastries and baked goods at Sandholt Reykjavik! So we joined the line (though mistakenly, since we waited in the dine-in line before realizing there was a faster, shorter line just for take-out from the bakery) and bought our delicious morning pastries to enjoy outside at a table nearby. And the pastries were delicious! Especially the almond croissant Cynthia bought! SO SO GOOD!

The family sat and enjoyed our pastries and coffee before continuing on our lovely morning stroll through town. We walked around downtown and checked out some stores here and there before turning around to head back toward Hallgrimskirkja to meet up with a rejuvenated Minh. Along the way, I took the family on a detour so that they could see my old flat on Bergstaðastræti. We briefly got lost along the way since I couldn’t remember exactly where it was but we eventually found it after some backtracking.

We met up with Minh at Hallgrimskirkja and took a brief look inside the church before splitting up from mom and dad to meet up with Thorsteinn and his girlfriend Thordis Erla on the other side of downtown at a cute brunch place called The CooCoo’s Nest near the Old Harbour. Along the way there, we stopped by to look in a couple of stores and even ran into an old Stanford buddy, Bryce Kam, and his wife walking around Laugavegur. What a coincidence! We chatted in the streets for a few minutes before we had to bid them farewell so that we could make it to brunch on time.

After a relatively short walk through town to get to the Old Harbour side, we finally arrived at The CooCoo’s Nest and found Thor and Thordis already there waiting for us and for a table to open up. After officially meeting Thordis, we sat outside and started catching up over all sorts of things until it was time to be seated at our table inside. We continued on with our great conversations inside as we ate our delicious brunch (Cynthia and I ordered their Breakfast Burrito and Eggs Florentine, both which were yummy). We had a wonderful two-hour long late brunch with the two of them and shared a ton of great stories and talked about all sorts of topics, from Thor’s and Thordis’ life updates (including buying a house together, Thor getting a new job managing assets and portfolios, Thordis going back to school to study industrial finance after briefly working, Thordis’s previous work life working for Icelandair as a flight attendant) to stories about our trip and our lives in the States during a pandemic. So much fun to catch up after almost five years!

Once we had taken our photos and said farewell to each other, Cynthia and I slowly walked through downtown and made a couple of stops along the way as we headed back to the house while Minh went off on his own to look for Icelandic sweaters to buy. By the time we arrived back at the apartment, there was only 1.5 hours left until our next social gathering with Sveinn Magnússon and Kristin Bragadottir at their house for dinner. OH. MY. GOODNESS. I was so full and so tired by the time we got home that I couldn’t even think about more talking and more eating. We helped do some laundry before Cynthia and I went to lie down and take a quick power nap. Unfortunately, we were woken up soon after we went to bed and rushed out of the house so that we could make it to dinner on time at Sveinn’s. We drove over there, and when we arrived, we were warmly greeted by Sveinn and Kristin before Minh and dad finally showed up after their souvenir-buying stroll. It was such a pleasure to see Sveinn and Kristin again after these busy last 4.5 years!

Sveinn and Kristin welcomed us with open arms into their warm home, one that I have visited every trip I’ve made to Iceland. While waiting for dinner to be prepared, I introduced Sveinn and Kristin to my parents and Cynthia, who they had never met, and we shared stories in the living room while sipping on white wine. It was great to finally introduce everyone to each other after they had all heard stories about each other over the years. We caught up for a while before we were seated at the dining table for a fabulous and delicious dinner spread that included an appetizer of shrimp and cheese salad, mains and sides of baked salmon with a puff pastry top, half-mashed potatoes, and salad, and rhubarb oatmeal pie with vanilla ice cream for dessert. What a yummy treat! Over dinner, we learned so much more about Iceland, past and present, from Sveinn and also learned about Kristin’s journey to her PhD in history and her authorship of several historical books as a result. Always so great to hear about the amazing things they are doing and the amazing knowledge they are always willing to share with us!

After dinner, we continued to sip on more wine while chatting more and looking through family photo books that Sveinn had collected over the years. I learned more specifics about Sveinn Magnusson as a physician. For example, before working at the ministry, he was a general practitioner in Sweden and Iceland and was boarded in Internal Medicine and Family Medicine. He then transitioned to working for the Icelandic government where he served primarily as director general, the second highest ranking civil, nonpolitical official in Iceland who reports directly to the prime minister. And while working at the ministry for 21 years, he served a total number of 16 prime ministers. These days, while not doing government work, Sveinn is primarily on call to do death exams on folks in the community. Every now and then, he is tasked with doing a little more than that. In one instance a few years ago, he was the physician who did the baseline intake physical exams for the group of Greenland boat guys who were involved in the murder of a young Icelandic woman. Crazy! After hearing all sorts of cool and crazy stuff and before we even knew it, it was 9:30pm and time for our exhausted family to bid Sveinn and Kristin farewell and a big thank you for hosting us at their lovely house on our short trip through Iceland.

Before driving home, we briefly stopped by the water so that everyone could check out Sun Voyager Sculpture and the Harpa Concert Hall. After some photos, we were pooped and drained, so we finally drove back home and started the task of packing and tidying up for our trip home. Minh’s energy tank was still holding some gas by this point (probably because of his effective power nap), so he decided to walk around downtown and check things out before hitting the sack. Cynthia decided to go with him to maximize her only full day in Reykjavik but because I was so tired, I stayed in to rest. I helped with laundry and hung out around the house until a bit past midnight, at which time I went to bed shortly before Cynthia and Minh returned home. What a ridiculously packed and exhausting last full day in Iceland! If only I had more time to just chill and do everything over a few days instead of over 36 hours… But at least there is one more half day left to enjoy tomorrow…

5 Things I Learned/Observed Today:

1. Today, tourism is the number one industry supporting the infrastructure and economy of Iceland, surpassing Iceland’s fishing industry. Therefore, when the pandemic hit and set the world on fire, tourism took a huge hit in Iceland and resulted in the crippling of Iceland’s economy. There were huge drops in revenue due to travel restrictions and mandates. But for some Icelanders, it was actually quite nice to have their country all to themselves once again after a decade-long boom in tourism. Local Icelanders got the chance to, once again, experience and enjoy Iceland’s beautiful nature the same way they used to enjoy it before tourists flocked to Iceland. It was now quieter and less crowded and locals could now go to tourist hotspots that they previously avoided due to tourist crowds (like the attractions along the South Ring Road). Icelanders got to travel locally with their families again and spent much of the pandemic just reconnecting with their families and friends. With tourism essentially on pause, it also gave nature time to rest and recover, something that was much needed in Iceland. Funny enough, though, despite everything I wrote above, when the country was open to tourists again, a lot of Icelanders, who are a social breed of people, actually appreciated and welcomed the tourists again. Not only did tourists bring money that was desperately needed into the country’s economy, but they also brought with them interesting conversation topics and new perspectives that helped break up the monotony of Icelanders keeping conversations afloat with people they’ve known their whole lives. During the pandemic, Icelanders actually missed seeing and talking to us tourists! Funny!

2. Thordis informed me that Icelandic weddings typically don’t have wedding parties to accompany the bride and groom to the altar but just have the bride and groom’s fathers present at the altar for their ceremony.

3. Supposedly, until 1974, the many rivers running through Iceland played a major role in travel and exploration in the country. Rivers were one of the major reasons that limited domestic traveling because, at the time, the country lacked a way to cross those rivers. However, around 1974, Iceland was gifted single-laned bridges to bridge them to broader horizons and to expand their previously-limited area for exploration.

4. When the latter half of the year arrives with its darkness, snow, and cold, windy weather, non-city-dwelling people in Iceland sometimes have to take up a secondary job or change the nature of their primary jobs because their work may be limited due to the challenging and harsh weather conditions. For example, if the farmers are growing crops, they can’t really do any of that in the winter. So they, along with other people from the countryside in need of something to do, sometimes volunteer to help in town. Sometimes they volunteer in civil roles and things like firefighting and teaching. Others will just take the down time to fix up their homes and do repairs they didn’t time to get to over the year. If you’re a farmer who raises animals or has animals to deal with, those farmers can continue working but maybe in a different way. Dairy farmers will continue their work with their cows. Sheep farmers will work to feed and breed their sheep after the sheep have been collected from the previously-green-but-now-yellow-and-brown fields where they roamed all summer. They can also start collecting the wool they shave off the sheep to get that side of the business going.

5. It isn’t that farmers don’t grow crops in Iceland because of the poor soil. Rather, they can’t grow successful crop fields because of the variation in the amount of sunlight and relative lack of sunlight during certain parts of the year. However, some manage to grow potatoes or other crops in very environmentally-controlled set-ups like greenhouses.

[alarawriting]

52 Project #29: The Last Boy (Inktober #11: Disgusting)

This is fanfic-adjacent; it’s an unauthorized sequel to Alice Sheldon (writing as James Tiptree Jr)’s story “The Screwfly Solution”. It is... less dark than that story, but if you’re familiar with it, that’s not saying much. (If you aren’t familiar, don’t worry, this story explains the backstory necessary.)

This is a horror story... or at the least, dark science fiction. (Nothing supernatural in this one.) I am not tagging any of the triggers inside because spoilers, which are destructive to a horror story, but I will include them at the end, which is below the cut. If you rapidly scroll through the story you can reach the trigger list without actually reading any of the story.

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Roy is very excited, running, practically skipping, ahead on the trail. “Uncle Matt! This is great! I can see the woods up ahead already!”

Matt forces a smile, because he’s very much afraid of how this expedition might end, but he has to try. He has to have hope. “Sure is. Ready to go hunting?”

“You bet!” Roy turns around and flashes Matt a big, heartwarming smile. His face is pocked with acne and he’s late to have lost his last baby tooth; it’s a gap on the upper left side of his face. He looks so young, so boyish. Which he is; he’s thirteen. Thirteen is still a kid. Matt’s sixty; thirteen’s practically a baby to him. They grow up so damn fast. “You think we’ll bag a deer?”

“We might. Or we might bag a goose. Or we might come home empty-handed. The point to hunting is to be quiet and patient, and let nature bring to you whatever it will.”

They hike up to the tree line. This is one of very, very few forest areas that’s still being tended and managed by people. The rocky hiking trail up to the tree line’s been kept clear of scrub; there are bushes and tall grasses on either side of the trail, but nothing on the wide stretch of packed dirt.

From here Matt can look down the side of the mountain, to the acres planted with corn and wheat, the women working in the rows, a couple of men stationed to sit by the road with their guns, watchful for whoever might come by. He knows them both. Good boys. He took Evan out on a hunting trip like this one, ten years ago, and they came home with a deer and a couple of rabbits. Jase was called Lisa back then, and didn’t need to go on a hunting trip like this. The tradition of the hunting trip when you’re thirteen isn’t for the girls, or the gay boys, or the trans kids. Most of them resent that, until they get to be old enough to understand why.

“This is the best,” Roy says. “Just me and you, Uncle Matt. How long has it been since we got to just spend time together, just two men?”

“I think you were 10. We went out to the river and went fishing, didn’t we?”

“Yeah. I didn’t catch anything,” Roy laughs. “You got a couple of fish, though, right?”

“Yeah,” Matt says, smiling as he remembers. “Had to throw ‘em back, though. They were too small.”

“Why don’t we do stuff like that more often, Uncle Matt? Just hang out, without all these stupid girls around?”

Matt sighs. “You have school and I’ve got work; crops don’t grow themselves and we don’t get security by going on vacation.”

“Yeah, but why do we have to even live here? Why don’t we go live somewhere where there’s just men?”

“That’s a little hard to find. There’s not a lot of men around,” Matt points out.

“Because the stupid girls wouldn’t go to them and have their kids,” Roy mutters.

That is a disturbingly misleading viewpoint on what happened, but Matt tries to let it go, for the moment. “Hey. We need to keep quiet now,” he says softly. “If there’s any deer, we don’t want to scare them.”

Roy nods, and the two of them walk quietly into the forest.

***

Roy was such a sweet little boy.

Matt remembers him bringing the pictures he drew to Matt and to his mother – who Matt, despite being called uncle, is not actually related to; Matt is uncle to all the boys he takes under his wing – and being so enthusiastic about showing it to them. He remembers one of the pictures, of himself and Roy holding hands. Another, of Roy holding hands with his mom. Roy hasn’t had anything positive to say to his mother in weeks; he’s been disobeying her, insulting her, calling her stupid and saying he doesn’t have to listen to her because she’s just a woman.

It’s biological. Roy wasn’t raised to even have the concept of men somehow being better than women at anything or for any reason. Most of the boys develop the attitude around puberty, the result of a disease that infected the entire world over a century ago. Many of them get over it. Many don’t. Matt never suffered it at all; it’s linked to heterosexual desire, and Matt knew he was gay ever since he was nine.

He remembers Roy running around with a toy airplane, declaring that when he was grown up he would help restore humanity’s control of the skies, working to bring back the airplanes. He remembers Roy making him lemonade when he was six, cooking him an egg when he was ten. Roy making a card for his mother’s birthday with a big heart on it. Roy asking him what stars were made of.

It’s going to be all right, he tells himself. Evan was a little ass to his mom and his sisters, and it all worked out for him. Lebron actually punched his mom when he was fourteen, and he came through it. Roy’s going to be fine.

All the boys mean so much to him, but Roy is special… maybe because he’s the most recent one. Matt hasn’t been working with the little boys so much, lately. There’s enough men in the settlement now that the younger men, with more energy, are taking up more of that role. When Matt himself was a child, there were almost no men – Uncle Harry was the only cis man he’d known. Of the boys he grew up with, only Andrew, Tyrone and Jose were still there by the time he was an adult, plus Deandre who was trans and joined them in their late teens. He’d dated all of them except Deandre, who was straight. Ended up eventually with Cole, three years younger than him. Cole had a heart attack six years ago, and after that Matt couldn’t bear to open himself up to any of the new little boys, not without the emotional support of an adult man to share his life with. Roy has been the last one to call him Uncle.

“Uncle!” Roy hisses. “Is that a deer? Over there?”

Matt looks where Roy is pointing. “It could be,” he whispers back. “Let’s see.”

They walk closer, carefully, trying to be quiet. But Roy steps on a branch he doesn’t see. It snaps, and the vague outline that might be a deer startles and runs, proving that yes, it is a deer. Roy pulls out his gun and fires, but misses, predictably.

“Oh, son of a bitch!” Roy swears.

“What have we said about language?” Matt asks mildly.

“Come on, Uncle Matt. I’m not a baby anymore,” Roy protests. “Besides, I said ‘shit’ when I stubbed my toe on a rock on the way up here.”

“Yes, but ‘shit’ is disgusting and everyone makes it. ‘Bitch’ is an insult specifically for women, and calling something a ‘son of a bitch’ when you want to swear at it is basically saying that it’s the fault of mothers if their sons are terrible.”

“Well, who else’s fault would it be? Stupid b – stupid women don’t know anything, but they act like they know everything.”

“I think that’s a little bit of an overgeneralization. I know you’re not getting along with your mother lately—”

“She just makes me so mad. She’s always telling me what to do! Like she knows everything!”

“She is your mother,” Matt says mildly. “And she’s twenty-five years older than you. That does tend to make people know more than you.”

“Yeah, but not her. She really doesn’t know anything. Sometimes I just wanna punch her.”

“That happens to a lot of boys at puberty, but they get over it. By the time you’re twenty-five, you’ll be amazed at how smart your mother has suddenly become.” He smiles at Roy.

Roy glowers. “I don’t think so. Girls are just disgusting. I just want to hang out with men, like you. You’re not a dumbass, Uncle Matt. All the girls are dumbasses, but the guys aren’t.”

“That’s the hormones talking. You’ll get over it.” Matt points at the ground. “Do you see that?”

“No, what?”

“Tracks. For the deer.” Matt crouches down and points them out to Roy. “We can see what direction it went in, now.”

“Oh, yeah! I can see it now!” Roy starts to run, but Matt holds him back by the shoulder.

“Roy. Slow. Patient. Quiet. The deer can run faster than you or me, but it burns more energy doing that. If we walk, we catch up with it, because it’s got to rest. But if it hears us, it’ll run again. So we walk, and we’re quiet.”

“Right. I get it, Uncle Matt.” Roy is much more quiet and careful about where he puts his feet after that.

***

When Roy was eight, Matt walked the fields with him and showed him how to sow corn. They went to the vegetable plots and planted carrots and lima beans. Roy was so proud the day they harvested his carrots, and he got to eat one. Matt took him fishing the first time, that same year.

The little boys are always so sweet, so bright, so full of promise. It hurts so much when they don’t fulfill it.

Please, God, let Roy be all right. Let him get past this. Of course he would. Matt has been training him, teaching him since he was small (but there were others, other boys Matt had loved like his own sons, who he’d trained and taught, and they weren’t around here anymore).

He should have been around more often in the last three years. Roy was heading for puberty and that scared Matt. Still does. He visits the boy often, but Roy is right – they haven’t done anything together, just the two of them, in a long time.

“You ever spend any time with any of the young men? Jase, or Evan, or Fred?”

“Yeah, sometimes. I hang out more with the guys closer to my age. You know any of them? Steve, Paolo, Rafael?”

“Sure, yeah, I know them.”

“Paolo has a dad,” Roy says enviously. “When I grow up I want to be a dad.”

“Well, you’re in luck, because humanity needs more men to be dads,” Matt says. “You can go live where they’re using your donation, if you really want to be a dad, and help to raise the kid you helped make, or you can stay here and help raise the boys as an uncle, and maybe go out and visit the places where they used your donations.”

“How come I can’t stay here and raise a boy here?”

“Genetic variation. If we let human men have sons with their sisters, we get inbreeding. All kinds of diseases. Sending your donations to the other compounds makes us strong and healthy as a species.”

“Did you ever donate, Uncle Matt?”

“Back in my day, if your balls worked you had to donate. We didn’t have enough men. You know old Gran Stacie, she had to donate too. She couldn’t take the hormones to look feminine until there was a safe compound for women to live in and plenty of donations so the human race could keep going.”

“She’s okay, I guess. But the other girls are really stupid and gross.”

Matt stops Roy there. “Hey. You keep saying that. It’s like you’ve forgotten everything we taught you about our history.”

“I remember history,” Roy protests.

“So tell me. Why do we live this way? Why do women live in secure compounds with only a few men? A hundred years ago the world was very different. Tell me how it was, and what changed.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. You do.” Matt sits on the ground, and gestures for Roy to sit across from him. “Come on. Tell Uncle Matt all about it.”

Roy rolls his eyes. “A hundred years ago men and women lived together but then there was a disease and it made the men sick and the sickness made them want to hurt women so they couldn’t live with women anymore, the end,” he says in a rapid sing-song.

“No. That shit doesn’t fly with me, kid, and you know it doesn’t. Tell it to me right.”

Roy sighs. “Okay, okay. So. Back then, women and men lived together all the time and every kid had a dad, and the men still took care of the women but there weren’t a lot of men trying to kill them, just one or two weird ones.”

Matt, being an adult, is aware of how far this is skewed off the truth of what life was like a century ago, but the boys are being raised with no awareness of historical misogyny. Nothing to give the disease any historical justification it can hook onto. They learn more details when they’re proven to be safe. “So far so good.”

“So back then, there was this thing we used to do to kill flies where we made the male flies wanna kill the female flies instead of mate with them.” This is also a distortion of the facts, but Matt lets it go as well. “Then suddenly, men were trying to kill women instead of having sex with them. But it was just the straight men who were affected and they had to have balls. Women weren’t affected even if they had balls, and gay men weren’t affected, and men who didn’t have balls weren’t affected, and men who didn’t want sex even though they had balls weren’t affected, but all the men who had balls and wanted to have sex with women wanted to kill the women. And a lot of the time, little girls or old women that no one wanted to have sex with, because they thought in their heads it was God telling them to kill women or something. They didn’t know the truth.”

“And what was the truth?”

“That it was aliens. They spread the virus around on Earth because they wanted humans to die, just like the flies, so they could take the Earth for themselves. But humans are more complicated than flies. So there were men who were affected too much, who killed little boys because little boys look like little girls, and there were men who weren’t affected as much, who’d killed their wives but they were trying to protect their little girls. And there were men who didn’t have sex with women even if they wanted to because they were trying to honor God or something, and those men could resist wanting to kill, because the wanting to kill thing was related to wanting sex. If they could resist one, sometimes they could resist the other. Plus, all the asexual men and the gay men and the trans men and other kinds of men without balls like castrated men, plus the trans women, who could fake being men so they could stay alive. And there were also a lot of women with guns, too.”

“So what happened?”

“Well, most of the women got killed, and the men who were doing the killing, they didn’t have any kids. But the women who survived, they went into compounds where all the women had guns and they would kill strange men who came near them. And a lot of the kinds of men who didn’t want to kill women would help women get to those compounds. They called them ‘allies.’ You’d have been one if you were alive in those days, Uncle Matt.” This is said proudly. Roy doesn’t realize how much Matt is still called on to be an ally, even today.

“I would have, yes. So how did we get where we are today?”

“A lot of the places were run by women who hated men even before they started killing women, called rads, and the rads were okay with women getting donations from ally men, but if they had boy babies they wanted to send the babies to live with the men or else throw them outside and kill them. And the moms didn’t want to do that and they thought it was stupid. So they made their own compounds and they let ally men live there. And if boys grew up and they didn’t want to kill women, then they were allowed to give donations and be dads. But if they did, then they couldn’t be dads and they couldn’t live there anymore.”

So much heartbreak, so much agony, skimmed over so neatly and briefly. Mothers pleading with their baby boys, grown to young men, not to do this, before the boy killed the mother… or the mother killed the boy, in self-defense. Entire compounds of women lost because some mother couldn’t bear to kill her son, so she locked him away instead… and he got out. Boys with the compulsion to kill sent to live with the femicidal men, only to be killed themselves, because there were no boys among the men anymore and the young boys were more feminine than anything the killer men had seen in years, by then. Or castrated, so that they would theoretically be safe to stay, except humans were complex and some of them retained the femicidal compulsion even in the absence of testicles, and the horror of boys everyone thought were safe suddenly murdering their sisters. Gay boys in love, their hearts shattered when their love interest proved to have enough interest in women that he became a killer.

They’re more careful now. Things like that don’t happen anymore.

“And the killer men thought that the aliens were like messengers from God or something, but the women and the ally men killed a lot of aliens. And when lots of aliens were dead, they realized that their plan to get Earth for themselves by making the humans die out from killing all the women wasn’t going to work, because humans are complicated. So we guess they changed their minds, because they left and no one has seen them since.”

“And that’s a good thing. We lost a lot of people when the aliens were willing to fight back in self-defense. If they’d had the stomach for it, they might have won, and humanity might have been wiped out. But, we assume, they weren’t willing to die to take our planet; they’d been trying to kill us off so they could have all the bounties of the Earth without doing any damage from removing us. If you try to settle in swampland and you try to kill all the mosquitoes, and instead the mosquitoes start killing you back, maybe you go find somewhere else to live.” Or maybe you come back, later, with a new plan… but humanity has collectively decided that, while it’s important to try to have contingencies for that possibility, it’s more important to rebuild humanity and reclaim what was lost. Matt worries about that, but it’s not something he can do anything about.

“You think they’re ever going to come back, Uncle Matt?”

Maybe. “No. We kicked their butts hard enough I’m pretty sure they’re gone forever. But they left us with this giant mess to clean up.” He sighs. “This stuff you’re feeling about how girls are stupid and irritating and you can’t stand being around them? That says, you’re in puberty and you’re going to grow up to be attracted to girls. Maybe guys too, but definitely girls. And the virus is waking up in you, trying to turn your desire for girls into hatred, but it doesn’t have to win. A lot of guys make it through this stage no problem, and never hurt anyone.”

“It doesn’t feel like a virus. It feels like they’re stupid and boring and gross and I hate them.”

“Of course it does. If it felt like a virus, the men a hundred years ago would have figured it out before they killed most of the women. It messes with your emotions, Roy. It takes feelings that are natural and normal, and twists them around. But if you understand that, then you don’t have to let it win.”

“Okay,” Roy said, and rocks backward, looking around him. “Can we go hunt for the deer now?”

“Sure, kid.” Matt gets to his feet. “We’re done here. You remember what they taught you about controlling your anger?”

“Yeah. Take deep breaths, take a step back from the situation, walk away if you hafta.”

“Right,” Matt says. “Let’s get a move on. That deer won’t shoot itself.”

***

They amble along through the woods. Another deer makes itself known, and Roy takes another shot, but misses. “Dammit! I was sure I had that shot!”

“I thought you did too,” Matt says. “But they move fast. You gotta be able to sneak up on them and shoot before they hear you coming.”

“Can you do that, Uncle Matt?”

“Used to. I’m older now; wouldn’t be surprised if the deer could hear the creak in my bones.” He grins.

And then they circle around a big rock, and there’s a girl.

She’s a teenager, about Roy’s age, maybe a little older. “Hi!” she says cheerfully. “I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone from around here! You’re from the compound down the mountain, right?”

Roy’s face twists into visible disgust, and he backs away. “That’s right,” Matt says calmly. “I’m Matt, and this is Roy.”

“My name’s Jennifer!” Jennifer has dark, wavy hair and tanned white-person skin. She’s wearing cutoff shorts, sneakers that have been patched many, many times – there are no companies that make goods from the old world like sneakers anymore – and a short-sleeved blue buttondown shirt that’s been tied up under her breasts to show her midriff, and opened in the front far enough to see her cleavage. When Matt was young, women were advised not to wear anything that could be arousing, because if they ran into a killer male, their life might depend on how much he was not turned on. By now, though, so many of the killer males are dead, and with women outnumbering men by three to one, the women and girls dress in whatever they want. It was never a good strategy for dealing with the killer males anyway; too many of them were willing to kill women dressed in nun robes, so it plainly had nothing to do with revealing clothes. There are numerous large lumps in her front pockets, which could be rocks, or animal bones, or any number of things.

Matt’s gay and far too old to see teenagers as anything other than young kids, but Roy is plainly very uncomfortable with Jennifer’s state of exposure. “What are you doing here?!” he half-shouts, angrily, at her.

“I’m from a compound on the other side of the mountain, and I hiked up here to try to collect mushrooms,” Jennifer says, her voice just a little bit too loud.

“Well, we’re hunting, so I’d like it if you could be a little quieter,” Matt says. “Don’t want to scare the deer.”

“Ooh! Hunting sounds fun! Can I join you?”

“No,” Roy says, loudly.

“Oh, come on!” Jennifer pouts. “I’ll be quiet!”

Matt takes in Roy’s trembling hands, the whiteness of his lips. Terror, or rage, or both. Roy’s expected to control himself no matter what the circumstances, but Matt… really doesn’t want to push him. Not now, when he’s so fragile. “Sorry, Jennifer, but Roy and I really came out for some uncle-nephew time. Maybe you can join us another time, but not now.”

Her eyebrows go up. “Huh,” she says. “Okay! I know a lot of guys like to go hunting with their dads or uncles when they’re thirteen. You’re thirteen, right?” This is directed to Roy.

“None of your business!” Roy snarls.

“Yeah, he’s thirteen,” Matt says tiredly. “Nice meeting you, Jennifer. Maybe we’ll meet again someday.”

“And maybe we won’t,” Roy mutters. He and Matt hike up the trail, away from Jennifer. “Good riddance.”

“I want you to think about this anger you’re feeling. It’s really out of proportion to the situation, isn’t it?”

Roy sighs. “Uncle Ma-att, I just wanna go hunting with you! I don’t wanna talk about my feelings!”

“Sure, but it’s safest for everyone if you do. What’re you supposed to do when you feel really angry?”

“I already took a step back from the situation! I told her to go away!”

“Didn’t hear any deep breaths,” Matt says.

Roy manages to deeply breathe sarcastically. It’s an impressive trick. Matt would never have thought it possible to breathe in a sarcastic way. Most of it’s with body language and facial expression, but there’s definitely a sarcastic note in the breath itself. “Now can we go find a deer?”

“Maybe we’d have better luck setting up a snare to trap rabbits.”

Roy’s whole body sags. “I wanted to bring home venison, Uncle Matt! Nobody cares if you bring home a rabbit!”

“All right,” Matt says mildly. “We’ll keep going.”

***

The forest is full of sound. Birds chirp and call. Squirrels and other animals rustle in the branches and bushes. Many of the sounds go silent as Matt and Roy approach, but not all. They come up into a clearing, someplace where someone, long ago, had a concrete pad. Most of it’s broken and destroyed, but there’s enough of it that even after a hundred years, the forest hasn’t completely taken it back.

And then there is the deer, quietly grazing on the other side of the clearing.

Matt whispers to Roy as he points it out. “Quiet, now.”

Roy nods. There’s a broken half-wall part of the way through the clearing, blocking the deer’s view of them if they go low. Matt and Roy crawl toward it. Once they’re behind it, Roy pokes his head up, very slightly, following Matt’s hand signals. He lifts his rifle. Quietly. The deer doesn’t stir.

Matt hears a tiny click. His eyes go wide and his blood runs cold.

Jennifer comes bounding into the clearing behind them. “Hi, guys! Didn’t think I’d run into—”

The deer leaps and runs off. Roy spins around, utter rage in his face, and screams, “You stupid bitch!”

“Roy, don’t—” Matt tries to grab Roy, tries to pull him down, throw off his aim, but it’s too late. The gun goes off, twice. Splotches of red explode on Jennifer’s chest, and she falls backward, twisting as she does so she lands on her front. Red oozes out from underneath her.

Roy drops the gun from fingers suddenly dead white and shaking. “I – I didn’t mean to – I was so angry--”

Wounds where the red had blossomed on Jennifer would be fatal; she’d bleed out almost immediately, and the quantity of red seeping out from under her body suggests that that’s what happened. It looks like a strike to the aorta, or the heart itself, maybe. Matt cannot stop himself. “No, no, no—”

“I’m sorry!” Roy screams. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry—”

Matt gets hold of himself. “Roy. Roy, come here. Come here, son.” He means it as an endearment – Roy is neither his literal son, nor has he raised the boy as a father – but it’s real as well. Roy is like a son to him. All of them have been, and he loves Roy so much, and his heart is shattering.

Roy collapses in his arms, sobbing. Matt holds the boy tightly with one arm. “It’s not your fault, Roy, it’s not,” he tells the crying child, tears welling in his own eyes. “It’s the virus. I know you didn’t mean to. I know you’re a good boy.”

“I’m so sorry—I just got so mad, and the gun was in my hand—”

“I know,” Matt says, as the boy’s wet face presses against his shoulder. “I know. I love you so much, Roy, you know that?”

“I love you too, Uncle Matt,” Roy says into Matt’s shirt, still sobbing, and a sob escapes from Matt’s chest as well as he raises his pistol with the arm that isn’t holding his nephew, his child, his son, the little boy who trusts him and loves him, and as Roy cries against his chest and cannot see what he’s doing with his other hand, he lifts the pistol to Roy’s temple, awkwardly, being sure not to touch him with it, and fires.

The sobs stop. After a moment they start again, but they’re only Matt’s.

Jennifer gets up. “I’m sorry, Matt,” she says quietly.

“Get the fuck out of my face,” Matt snarls. “You provoked him! I told you to back off! I told you we weren’t having you join us!”

“I have to do my job,” Jennifer says wearily, and there is no longer any mistaking her for a teenager, despite the expertly applied makeup on her face. She’s short, she looks young, and with the right makeup none of the boys ever guess she’s not a teenage girl. There’s red all over her shorts, soaking her legs and belly, from where the bags of fake blood in her pockets burst, and splotches of red over her heart and her liver. The paint pellets look horrifically real; they even smell like blood.

No, wait, that’s probably Roy’s blood he’s smelling.

"Fuck your job.” Matt holds his little boy in his arms, with both arms now that he doesn’t need one free anymore. “You pushed him. If we’d just given him a little more time – a little more training—”

“And who might he have killed while you were giving him a little more time? His mom? One of the girls his age?”

“He wouldn’t have had a gun!—"

“He could have had a rock. Or a steak knife. Or a baseball bat. I’m so sorry, Matt, but—”

“If you say ‘that’s the law’ or ‘those are the rules’ to me, I will hit you,” Matt snaps. “Not because you’re a woman, but because you’re a piece of shit.”

She sighs. “I know you’re distraught. It’s horrible, having to do this—”

“You didn’t even know him!” Matt screams. “You didn’t watch him when he was little, you didn’t teach him to tie his shoes, you didn’t play airplane with him – you didn’t—”

“I had a son,” Jennifer says sharply. “Don’t tell me I don’t know how much it hurts, when we have to—I was 16 when I had my son. It was six years ago that – that he took his test, at thirteen, and he failed it.”

“There’ve been so many,” Matt whispers. So many little boys. Slightly less than half of them pass; that’s why the ratio of women to men is around 2:1. He was so, so relieved when Blake turned out to be a girl and took the name Cassandra, twelve years ago; the trans kids are immune to the violent impulses. He’d known that Cassandra wouldn’t have to face the test, that he’d never have to take her on a hunting trip she might never return from. So relieved when Joe, eight years ago, reported himself gay at eleven and then showed no sign of aggression toward his mother or sister or any girls his own age.

But all the others. All the others, he’d loved, and they’d loved him, and trusted him, and he took them up the mountain on a hunting trip… with a gun that could only shoot paint pellets and blanks, and the paint pellets only after the bait’s radio transmitter came into range and switched it on.

Roy would never have bagged a deer with that gun. But if he hadn’t shot Jennifer, if he’d controlled himself and proved he could overcome his femicidal impulses, Matt would have “discovered” that there was no ammo in it, and given Roy a different gun, and then they could have had a real deer hunt. Like Evan, ten years ago. Like Jamal, five years ago. Like LeBron… how long ago had LeBron even been?

He’d already decided he wouldn’t take on any new little boys, after Cole died. Roy was the last one, the last child to shepherd to adulthood, the last he had to test. “God,” he cries, holding the little boy he’s just killed in his arms. “Why couldn’t you have let me have the last one? Why didn’t you give him the strength to overcome it?” He rocks the body back and forth. “Why did you let any of this happen? Why do you make us have to kill our sons?”

“God’s got nothing to do with this,” Jennifer says softly. “This is evil. If God allowed such evil as this to exist, then She’s not worth worshipping, and if She can’t stop it, then there’s no point in blaming her. It was the aliens.”

The aliens his ancestors drove off planet, who he’ll never have a chance to fight, or get revenge on. There’s no one he can blame who’s here. He understands the system, he understands the necessity. Little boys who try to commit femicide once don’t have the control to stop themselves from doing it again, and if it’s not the bait with her paint bags in her shorts and the radio transmitter to make the gun fire paint pellets, it’ll be a girl or women who really dies because the boy will have a real weapon. They can’t let the femicides live among them, and they can’t send them away to live with the few bands of roving femicidal men that still exist… the only reason those still exist was that once upon a time, femicidal sons were turned out into the wilderness. Where they could grow up to be bandits who invaded compounds, stole the food, and murdered the women. The men, too, because the men would defend the compound, but the women they’d hunt and kill for fun.

He would never have wanted a future like that for Roy. But he didn’t want this, either.

“I’m… I’m going to go. I’ll radio the compound and let them know the results of the test.”

“You do that,” Matt says bitterly. He knows his anger isn’t fair. He knows his attempt to drive Jennifer off, put off the test at the last minute and get her to come back another day so Roy could maybe develop stronger self-control first, was wrong. He knows it could have resulted in Roy murdering someone he loves. Loved. But how much better is it that Matt had to murder someone he loves? Why do they need to kill the teen boys to protect the women? Oh, he knows why, he signed on for this job years ago because he knew why, he’s seen what happened when a boy grew into a killer and turned on the women he knew. But why has God or Fate or Allah or whatever the fuck is up there listening to human prayers allowed this? Why is this horrible thing something that they are forced to do?

After what seems like hours, crying and holding Roy’s body and whispering how sorry he is, he’s finally out of tears. He looks down at his pistol. Cole’s dead six years on now, and there’s no man in his bed waiting for him, back home. There’s no little boy he’s working with, and there will never be one again. Is there anyone to care if he lives or dies, now? What if he ate a bullet, right now, so he could stop seeing Roy and Jason and Manuel and little Matt, named for him and he still shot him in the head while the boy was bent over the bait’s body, and all the others, all the boys who loved and trusted him, and failed the test he brought them into? Was there any good reason not to?

…there were the boys who’d lived. Adults now, all of them, but they loved and respected him as their old uncle, and they still were willing to spend time with him, sometimes. There were the girls, who yelled “Mister Matt! Mister Matt!” when they saw him and crowded around him, showing off their accomplishments, and he’d never have to take any of them up the mountain. There are trans boys who just figured it out, and need an older man to mentor them and teach them how to be a man, and none of them will ever need to go up the mountain either. There are the gay boys who want to talk to him about boyfriends, and how to date a guy, and how sex works, and all the other things gay boys need to know.

He can still help the children. But he’s never going to take on a little boy as his nephew again.

After a few more moments, he picks up Roy’s rifle, which can’t fall into the wrong hands, and his own pistol, and slings them into the holsters he has for them, on his belt or on his back. Then he picks Roy up and cradles him. A fireman’s carry would be easier, especially with the long hike down the mountain, but he wants to give his boy’s body as much dignity as he can. He won’t sling Roy over his shoulder like a flour sack. He’ll carry the dead weight of the boy down the mountain, and then he’ll carry it for the rest of his life.

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triggers listed at bottom because they are spoilers

dashboard removes all the line spaces

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Triggers: Child death. Serious misogyny. A backstory from the original story that involves a worldwide near-complete femicide.

[itgetsdarksometimes35]

Colder Than Ice

Warnings: Non-con, breeding kink, fingering/finger play, loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, 18+

Word Count: 4,874

Pairing: Dark!Curtis Everett X Reader

Summary: Reader emerges from The Snowpiercer and finds herself in a situation she never thought would come about.

~ indicates a POV change

Prompt #’s: 9,11,13,15,16

This is for @jtargaryen18​ writing challenge. I apologize for being so late, I have been extremely sick. I’m finishing other challenges and after I will do chapter 2 of Love in True Form. Hope you like this update, I’m sorry again.

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The cold air stabbed at your lungs as you inhaled deep. You looked around at the train that had housed you for the past 17 years; the place that had been so kind to you yet neglected others. You were a front passenger, it was true. Spoiled rotten by your rich parents, along with your older brother. Being only 3 when entering the train, you hadn’t known much of anything except the life on a never ending transportation object, one that seemed to go nowhere at all. When the crash came, you were engrossed at a party, none the wiser to the revolution taking place around you. 

You had heard stories of the tail passengers, yet you felt nothing but sympathy. You knew all too well of the harsh punishment due to your brother’s friend, Irwin. He was a guard and would talk almost daily about the cruel treatment he would give the less fortunate passengers.

“They deserve it,” he would say, “Nothing but a bunch of ungrateful, worthless, freeloaders.”

Despite his friendship with such a despicable character, your brother was the kindest man you had ever met. Nothing like your greedy father or the pigs that would display their love to you on the regular. Your brother laughed with the hierarchy, but would hold a glimmer in his eyes that showed he still held a degree of humanity. He was 12 when entered the train. He told you stories of when he would volunteer at homeless shelters with your parents, take in stray animals. It all seemed surreal. A time where your parents dotted on your brother for the kindness of his actions, not the harshness of them. He never explained why your parents had grown so cold like the winter they were trying desperately to escape, but it hadn’t taken you long to figure it out. On land, your family was working middle class, barely had enough for the better things in life after paying for the necessities. However, due to your parent’s loyalty to Wilford, they worked as engineers for him, they were allowed a bump up on the list when the time came for the train’s sections to be assigned. They never worked another day. Neither had you at 20 or your brother at 29. He always said if the train ever crashed that you and him would be useless along with the rest of the front while the tail would take control of the show. You couldn’t help but grow a melancholy smile at your brother’s words, how right he had been. Yet, he won’t be around to see how the world would be, for he passed away in the crash. Majority of the people at the party you had been dragged to had; thrown into the cold abyss when the explosion ripped off one of the train’s sides. Your brother’s last words was a desperate screaming command. 

“Hold on to the railing! Don’t let go!”

You had spun quickly to hold onto the railing along the bar when you saw your parents and brother sucked out. The memory adds tears to your eyes and wipes the smile off your face. The remaining party-goers were badly injured and begging you for help. Aside from a few scratches and a couple sore places, you were fine. You ignored their pleas, a selfish thing but they were too far gone. They’d only slow you down and take the little resources you could scavenge just to die later on. 

You were going to survive. Another thing your brother talked fondly about was his time in boy scouts. He may have downplayed it as a silly thing he had done since age 7, but they were useful tips. Tips that would ensure your survival for a time before conditions became less harsh. You look behind at the rubble before turning around toward the vast horizon of white. You had seen a desolate town a few years ago while in school. The years following showed the town more and more, the snow was melting. If you hurried, you were sure you’d find the town before dark. You had a bag from the party that had a few snacks and a water bottle, complimentary from goodie bags, that could last the night. You could do this.The commotion from behind you had your head jerking back.

 Not too far down you saw figures in dark rags as clothing. They were looking around the carts. You strapped the bag to you and crouched away in fear, beginning your journey. The time for the tail section to hail control had begun, and you had no desire to become part of their revenge raid. 

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The air was nothing like Curtis had remembered. It was unforgiving and made his lungs squeeze with the cool burn that comes with every inhale. Him and his people, the scum of the tail, were mostly okay. Majority of them had injuries, but none were dire. The worst of them had already passed. He had emerged from the train and started looking around for other survivors, he purposly strayed from the front. His fellow bunk mates all looked to him and followed like a shadow as he rummaged around for things to aid in their survival. Those who could began to help. 

“Curtis, the sun should be setting soon, we have enough for the night. Do you think we could start looking for a shelter maybe?”

Curtis turned to the voice to find it belonging to a young man, no older than 20. He thinks his name is Jeri. He’s slim from malnutrition and has dusty dark hair with matching eyes. He’s dirty like everyone else and has a nervous waver in his voice, like he’s talking to a god. 

Curtis smiles to try to calm the young man, he’s no god. Far from it, he’d go as far to say. 

“Jeri is it?”

The man’s eyes light up and his head nods feverishly. 

“Y-yes sir! That’s me.” 

Again, Curtis smiles. “Alright Jeri, round everyone up. We’re going to head east.”

Jeri proudly nods a “yes sir” before turning confidently to the crowd behind him, executing his orders. If Curtis could remember the revolt correctly, east is where he saw a lot of water. Water means life. They could use the water  and hunt the animals that went to the source while he strategizes his next plan. They had won the war, the aftermath would be the difficult part. 

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What you expected to have been hours walking was finally rewarded by a sight in the distance. You saw structures that were only in books you read as a kid. They were houses! You let out a desperate laugh that sounded more like a cry; you had done it! You picked up the pace and were soon greeted by a red wooden door. Different than the metal doors on the train. You knock, despite you knowing, before pushing it open. Inside the tiny house looked just as abandoned as the out, but you saw a previous life inside. A kitchen equipped with an iron stove and fridge; a living room with a makeshift bed and a tiny table. You walked in, shutting the door, and explored a bit more. You found there was one bedroom with a small bed made for a child and nothing more. No bathroom. By what your brother had described, your home had 3 bedrooms and 2 bathrooms. Many homes were said to have countless bedrooms and more bathrooms than one needs, so this building you were in was a shock to say the least. No matter, it would work. Not like you had anyone to live with. You shuffled across the dusty floors before coming back to the entrance, pulling it open yet again. You walked around outside admiring the beauty of the natural world. Icicles melted to dull points and a river in the center of the homes, you counted seven, cracked, revealing water beneath. You were about to turn from the pond when movement caught your eye. You peered in and saw a fish, swimming! You laughed out of joy and amazment, you had found a food source. You saw a smaller pond with no fish inside and a wooden upright “box” next to it. You get closer and pull open the door to see a hole in the middle filing out into the Earth. You may have figured out why there was no indoor plumbing. Your brother called these “outhouses” and he said they weren’t fun to use at night on his Boy Scout camping trips.

Finding the other homes in the same condition as the first, the child room being the only difference, you found none to be better and took residence in the first. The day was giving way to night, so you shut your eyes and dozed off. The next day you promised you would get things done.

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Everyone was tired. The injured and young were begging for a break, but Curtis knew everyone needed shelter. Food and water was important, but what was it all with no protection? Yona, the girl who had helped Curtis along with her father who had passed in the revolt, was trailing behind with the injured trying to help them keep up. Sarah and Thomas, a couple who lost several children while on the train, were helping the children.

 He glanced between the 3 of them for a while longer when Yona met his gaze. She smiled at him while she cradled an elderly man’s bruised arm. She looked past him and her face flashed with shock. 

She pointed and yelled, “Curtis, look!”

Curtis, along with other survivors, looked ahead. Curtis nearly jumped at the luck they had. It was an abandoned town, with what looked like a pond right in the middle. 

“Come on everyone, just a little bit further. We’re almost there.” Curtis encouraged everyone, including himself. His exhaustion suddenly came all at once, knowing that soon he could get a drink and fall asleep in one of the homes. They were going to be okay. 

They got to the houses fairly fast, everyone picked up speed once they saw their heaven so close. To their delight, it wasn’t a joint illusion, made from their exhaustion. The water was cold but refreshing, he even saw a few fish that he would catch for food. Kyle, a man around Curtis’ age, said he found another pond and an outhouse. This seemed like the perfect place, they could take up camp here for a long time before moving as food became more scarce. As everyone was exploring their new home, claiming houses, some would have to share due to there being only 7 homes, Curtis sat near the pond peering into it. He thought about the past few hours, about the people he lost, what he had gained and if it were even worth it. If humans would even survive. Sure the ones who are alive now be okay, but humanity as a whole? It died on that train, a burden Curtis wore on his sleeves. He knew he caused this extinction. He was just about to get up to pick the house Yona had gone into, she was all he knew, when a scream sounded. 

Curtis immediately jumped up and toward the sound, afraid Yona was in trouble. He got to the first house they passed, the one with the red door. Yona hadn’t been in that one, so who screamed?

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You had been dreaming about the crash. All was normal, the party, your family was there, everything. Only, when the train’s side ripped open, you were the one sucked out. You screamed for your brother but he couldn’t help, it was too late. As you were falling you saw a bright light. 

You jumped up in the cot you were in, a scream still lingering in your mouth on instinct. It was just a dream. You looked up and was met with 3 men holding lanterns looking at you. You gasped and jumped up, finding the farthest corner from them to hide in. 

“It’s okay, little lady. We won’t hurt ya. My name’s Sam,” The oldest, around 60’s, said. “That’s Ceaphus,” he pointed to a younger guy with glasses, 25 maybe. “And that’s Walker.” The last one had dirty blonde hair, tasseled all to the side. Before anyone could say more, the door was swung open. 

“What happened-”

A 4th man appeared in the doorway. He had a full brown beard, a cap covering his head, and piercing blue eyes. They searched over you, and you covered yourself with your hands. You felt nude under his gaze. 

He followed the movement before breaking his trance and turning to the 3 other men. He nodded his head, a silent press for them to answer his question. 

The old man spoke up. “Oh-erm, nothing Curtis. We came in ‘ere to settle down for the night when we realized her.” All their eyes turned to you. “Ceaphus here called out to her and she screamed but didn’t realize us right away. Reckin’ she was havin’ a nightmare.” 

The man, “Curtis” turned to you again. He talked to Sam like you weren’t there. 

“She one of us?”

“Hard to tell. I’d say no, her clothes look nice, despite being a little dirty, and her face is clean. Though, I didn’t know a lot of people back there, ‘specially the younger ones. I suppose she could’ve washed her face in the pond, stole some clothes.”

Curtis grunted and turned to you. 

“Well?”

You just stared at hm. Too afraid to find your voice, you gulped and nodded your head. 

Curtis’ face hardened and he strode up to you, leaving no room between the wall and your body. Leaving no room between his and your body.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer. I can tell by the disrespect you’re a stuck up front section bitch.”

His breath fanned over yours, some of your hair wisped due to the air. 

“N-no! I’m sorry, I was just scared. I am from the tail section. I never really left my bunk, and I kept to myself. I always his behind my hood” You held up your hoodie to sell your lie. “I thought I was the only survivor so I ran to find shelter. I’m sorry.” 

You were damn near tears, afraid of what would happen if your lies were unsuccessful. Curtis held your eyes for a moment longer before releasing you from his body. 

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Curtis couldn’t lie, he was turned on by how scared you were. You were beautiful and he hadn’t had a woman in years. The control he had over you was driving him mad right then. He also had no idea if you were telling the truth or not, if you’re really from the tail section it would be understandable why you were scared of him. Stories about what he used to do got around, many young people strayed from his gaze. He too didn’t know much of them, unless the children were of his friends, like Tanya with Timmy, he didn’t know them. Yet still, he didn’t believe you.

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“Curtis?”

Yona’s voice caught Curts’ attention as he turned to face the young girl. She looked past him at the girl and her eyes were that of recognition. Curtis turned to the girl and saw the same recognition, only fear was laced in there. They knew each other.

“Yona, do you know her?”

The sound of her voice had Yona peering up to look at Curtis. “Yes. We played together in the front all the time when we were young. Her parents were rich and bought her so many toys.”

Curtis turned to the girl again, her eyes wide with horror looking at Yona. Curtis couldn’t help the grin that crept it’s way to his face. 

“So, you lied to me?” The girl refused to meet his gaze. “Everyone out, I’m going to have a little talk with our...friend.”

Everyone left leaving Curtis and the girl alone.

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You were caught red handed. You had known Yona for years, her dad always let her play with the younger kids in the front while he worked. She was always drawn to you, despite being a few years older. She stopped coming by when you were around 18, and you had missed her. This wasn’t how you wanted the reunion to go. 

Curtis shrugged off his coat, revealing several other dirty layers beneath it, and set it on the dusty table in the kitchen. He removed his hat to reveal short brown hair the color of his beard. If the circumstances were different, you’d find him gorgeous. Instead, there you stood, terrified out of your mind, in a corner. 

“So, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.” Curtis said pulling out a chair and turning it so his arms rested on the back “I want answers. Let’s start easy, what’s your name?” 

You told him while your body started shaking. It wasn’t the cold that caused this. 

Curtis considered this, then pressed on. “You’re from the front. Is there anybody left? Were you part of a group that survived?”

You nodded your head violently before remembering to speak up. “No, I’m not the only one. My family died in the crash, but I found a few people to go with. I was tired so they let me rest while they went out to find food.”

If you lied and made him think people were out there looking for you if things went south, maybe he wouldn’t try anything. Besides, you weren’t completely lying. Sure you weren’t in a group and hadn’t seen any from the front, didn’t mean everyone died. 

Curtis let out a breath before removing himself from the chair, stalking closer to you. He felt along your clothes and his fingers danced up from your stomach to your chest. You took in a sharp breath while he squeezed your right boob. 

He got close to your ear and whispered, “You’re lying.”

The air he caused when he spoke caused goosbumps to rise. 

“No, I’m-”

“Yes, you are. And I hate liars.” Curtis punctuated the word with another squeeze on your boob. 

You whimpered and tried to shrug away from him. Curtis pulled you by your hair with the hand he had used on your chest and brought you closer to his face. You could count every freckle on his face now. 

“How do you know I’m lying? I could be telling the truth.”

Curtis growled, clearly fed up. “How do you think I found out?” Curtis looked you up and down before chuckling a bit. “You’re from the front, if your lips are moving, you bastards are lying.”

Your heart stung at his words, what had they done to him?

Curtis licked his lips before looking you up and down. “Now, I can take you either way. But if you’re good for me, I might just make sure you feel good too.”

You pushed at his chest, desperate at this point to get away from this man. 

Curtis shook his head. “Guess we’re taking the hard way, huh?”

Curtis swung and threw you on the cot. Before you could react, he was on you pulling at your hoodie. 

“No!” 

Your hands flew to get Curtis off you, to stop his wandering hands. He ignored them, stripping you of your hoodie and 2 sweaters and bra. He stopped to gaze at your chest before slowly bringing his hand to touch your bareness. His touch was gentle, as if not to break you, despite his actions. He tweaked at your nipple and gave the other boob the same attention.

 He brought his head down to your neck and started to assault you with kisses and nips every now and then. You were still squirming when he started to hump you thigh, an obvious bulge to represent his excitement in your torcher. He let your nipple free to pull next at your pants. You started kicking when Curtis delivered a blow to your face. 

“Stop”

Tears rolled down your face, there was nothing you could do. You let him remove your pants and your underwear before looking at your slick. You were embarrassed to say it, but you were wet. Years of suppressed hormones, ones you dealt with alone in your room at night, had come flooding all at once to your core when he first started touching you. 

Curtis chuckled above you before dipping a finger in. “This all for me, hon?”

Your hips, contrary to what your mind screamed, bucked into his able fingers. Your body relishing in the way he swirled his finger around your clit in a way you never could. 

“That feel good?”

You shut your eyes and threw your head to the side, embarrassed. Curtis chuckled at your response and presses his finger harder and swirling faster than what you thought was possible. Soon, the coil you’re oh so used to starts winding in that spot. It's stronger than normal and it collapses all over your body in a way you’ve never experienced, it left your whole body shaking. 

With your eyes still shut and head still turned you huff to catch your breath, the small room feel suffocating with the new found heat. 

You feel more movement and you finally open your eyes to find Curtis becoming mouth level with your sensitive heat. You know what he wants. 

“N-no more, p-please..” You again try to plead, but Curtis easily swats your hands away and pulls you closer by your hips and resting your legs on his shoulders. He’s so close you can feel his ever inhale and exhale of breath on your pussy. 

“Mmm, smell so good.” Curtis hums while breathing your scent in. He sticks out his tongue and starts licking up your juices. It feels so good you can’t help the moan that leaves your mouth. He licks at your tiny bud a little longer before putting his whole mouth on you, devouring you. The slopping sounds have your body buzzing and back arching in bliss. The wet sounds coming from below distract you from the finger making it’s way to your hole. 

Curtis puts the pad of his index finger to it and it has you trying to close your legs. You’ve never gotten that far on yourself before. 

Curtis looks up at you through his eyelashes before sucking on your clit harder, leaving you defensless. His finger finds your hole again and slowly starts to enter, eliciting a strained moan from you. The slight burn from the stretch oddly added to the pool that Curtis happily lapped up. He started working that finger in and out og you, your hips desperate to follow the pattern. In, out, in, out. Curtis growled into your core before his opposite hand slapped your hip, a warning to keep still. As you held your weak will, Curtis added yet another finger. This time, you screamed out in pain.

“Stop! Please, it hurts.”

Curtis ignored you for the millionth time and just did scissor motions with his fingers, causing waves in your stomach.

 He sucked harder, he was playing your body like a harp, plucking moans out of you. You made your eyes focus down to see Curtis’ hips grinding the floor, no doubt taking care of his aching needs. The thought sent you over the edge, crying out again. The orgasm seized your body, shaking as each wave calmed into still water. Curtis licked a stripe one more time before removing his fingers, the absence making you clench around air. He brought them to your mouth. 

“Suck.”

You opened your mouth and sucked on his fingers. The saltiness from your release mixed with your saliva before being swallowed around his fingers. 

“Good girl. Now, can you still be a good girl while you take my cock?” The fog from your mind passed as you realized your situation again. Curtis stood up before he started removing the rest of his clothes. You looked up at him and looked to the door. You could make it. 

As Curtis was down to just his shirt and boxers you leapt up and passed him. You had made it to the red oak when a pair of thick arms wrapped themselves around you and pulled you to something likable to a metal wall. 

“Come on now, we both know you can’t get around me.” He ground his hips into your lower back, he was huge. 

He threw you back to the cot and got back on you. He bared his chest to you, a wall of muscle. “The front end isn’t running the show anymore.” He took off his underwear allowing his member to stand at attention. The tip fire red and dripping precum. “It’s time you learned that.” Curtis grabbed your legs, setting them on either one of his hips. You’re slapping at his chest and arms, tears streaming down your face, begging him. 

“Please Curtis, you don’t have to do this please!”

His eyes no longer hold ice, they are dark with lust and a fire is amist within the middle. 

Curtis shook his head and said, “It’s time you learned who is in charge now.” Before shoving himself into you. 

You screamed out in pain, The stretch nothing comparable to his fingers. Curtis is hissing above you, holding himself there. 

“So..tight…Shit!”

He started moving slowly but with harsh thrusts within you. Your walls pulling on him every direction he went. He looked down where your bodies met and you did the same. Blood stained his girthy length but he didn’t seem to mind.

“Been a while since I’ve been with a woman.” He said while picking up the pace, the pain bending into pleasure. “Don’t think I’ve ever been with a virgin.”

Reaching down, he started tweaking your clit, the stimulation helping your third rise of the night. 

“Wanna know how we knew somebody was dating in the tail section?” Curtis looked to you, finding your glossed over gaze. “They would fuck in front of everyone else. The girl would be screaming the guy’s name out, nobody would doubt it. That’s what I’m gonna make you do tonight and every night after. Everyone will know you’re mine.” 

The thought sent a shiver down your back. 

Curtis chuckled while his hips found a better rhythm, one that hit even deeper, if that were possible. “After all, babe, the world is going to need a few babies. I say we get a head start of everyone.” 

If you weren’t so in the moment you’d be crying again, kids was a conversation you never talked about. A topic that never came to mind, you thought you’d die a very happy supportive aunt to your brother and his kids. He was always hitting it off with women on the train. Your heart wrung at the thought. He’d never have kids now. You wish he were here, he’d be able to save you. 

Curtis pulled you from your thoughts with a dip of his head. He opened his mouth and started sucking a nipple in, never once stopping the rhythm of his hips or his fingers. The mixed pleasures had you moaning out loud in Curtis’ ear, earning you a growl. 

“That’s it baby.” Curtis said coming up for air. “Moan for me. Moan my name gorgeous, let them know who fucks you this good.” 

Your third orgasm crashes through you, Curtis’ name leaving your mouth on their own account like a chant. 

Curtis picks up speed on your exhausted body, his head moving up to rest in the crook of your neck to pant and moan your own name. 

“God, you look so good coming around me. Coming all over my cock like a dirty girl. You want me to cum don’t you? Cum all in this pussy, make a mess. Beg. Beg for me to cum in you, beg for me to give you a baby. Do it, now.”

“C-Curtis, please cum inside me. Give me a b-baby, please.” 

“Yeah? You want to have my baby? Fuck, I’m coming! I’m coming so hard!”

Curtis’ hips slammed into one more time before halting inside you, his seed filling you in hot spurts. He pumped himself in you a few more times before pulling out. He looks at your abused soaping pussy before scooping his release onto his fingers and shoving them back in. 

He goes to get his coat and you haizly try to get up again. “Run again and I’ll tie you up and fuck you like the pig that you are.” Curtis said while making his way over to your unstable body, a smirk playing on his face. He knew you couldn’t, especially not in this state. 

He grabs you and pulls you down into the cot with him. He pulls the coat over you both before he pulled your back to his front. His left hand came down to caress your stomach. He nuzzled his face into your hair and breathed in your scent. He smiled before saying,”Go to sleep.”

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@jtargaryen18​

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Back to school - Chapter 3 - Kira

So, my first short AU has turned into a soap opera really fast...

Here's another Kira chapter...❤️👩🏻‍🏫

Fandom : The Hobbit

Characters : Oh everyone

Rating : Gen up to now

Warnings: Turns a bit dark, a tad of crying, histrionics and it's a dilettantish attempt at an AU

Kira watched them walk away, the new kid almost tripping over his own feet trying to catch up with that monstrosity of a teenager stomping away moodily.

She remembered vaguely what it had been like to be this young and to stumble upon a pretty face that hit one unawares like a right hook into the jaw; and, just as she had that thought, one of those faces appeared just above her.

“Miss Kira, I see you’re still hale.” That man had a voice like running rivers, cold and beautiful, Kira thought. As beautiful as her new colleague, Thranduil, was, she distrusted him instinctively. There seemed to be a lack of that kindness in him that she had come to expect in a teacher.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” She snapped, exhausted from this first day of work and troubled by all the secrets flitting around and nipping at her skin. “You’ve got the trash class.” He shrugged, his perfectly toned shoulders heaving with disgusting elegance and poise. Why could he not be as ugly as his words? It would make disliking him so much easier!

His freaking son was in that class, Kira thought, for crying out loud. How could anyone be that facetious?

“I’d be ever so grateful if you could refrain from making remarks such as these.” Her tone could grow just as cold and sharp as his, she decided. “Oh, you’ve warmed up to them, have you?”

There was a flash of something behind the obvious mockery; for a moment, Kira thought she had seen a hint of surprised joy, but the spark was gone before she could hold on to it or commit it to memory.

“They have been very nice. Your son has a rare talent for drawing.” She replied, carefully. “He’s a nitwit.”

Bitterness, Kira could taste it on her tongue as if that man in front of her was literally spewing acid. He was disappointed, but whether it was himself or that sweet-tempered boy of his who caused him such distress, Kira could not yet tell.

“He is not and you’re an asshole for saying so.” The words were out of her mouth before she could bite them back.

Wonderful, she had met exactly 3 other adults this far and she had managed to insult one of them to their face within the first day of her arriving at her new post. Kira deserved an award for hasty reactions that would lead to trouble and pain.

One thick eyebrow lifted with agonising slowness until it reached its zenith in a perfectly calm face.

“Strong words.” A drawling snarl, devoid of bite or anger; he seemed rather amused by her outburst that coloured her cheeks a flaming red and made her eyes shine with a ferocious fire. Kira liked to think that she looked intimidating or fierce, but she was old enough to be aware that she actually resembled a young girl running a fever when she got angry.

His eyes shifted into something that was now definitely mournful as he told her that there were many things she didn’t know and, with a sharp sadness, he added: “Maybe, someone with a soft heart like yours should not have come here.”

Bristling, she got up and pushed past him into the school building.

Who was he to tell her where she was to go or not? He knew nothing about her either, or about the things she had done and seen in her life. A soft heart, pfff, indeed.

Making her way through the halls and corridors, and getting turned around only twice, she finally entered the small administration office where a handsome woman with long, black hair was clacking away on her keyboard.

“I am…I have…I am new here and I’d like to see the files of the class I’ve been given.” Kira announced, rather badly, and the woman looked up with a disinterested face. “Which class would that be?”

Damn, she didn’t even know the name of the class, for she was sure that DD was not the official code. “Mister Gandalf’s class? I’ve taken over for Mister Smaug.” She mumbled, hoping that the lady would know which class she was talking about without her having to confess that she was a terrible teacher who had not done a rollcall or learned what the official denomination of her class was.

“You poor dear, how much time do you have?” The woman gave a wry chuckle. “Time?” Kira cocked her head.

“Go through to the library, I’ll bring you the files.” She patted Kira’s hand, lying cramped on the little counter before her. Those treacherous hands, she thought, always clenching without her knowledge, and betraying her inner turmoil.

As she sat in a corner of the library, she thought back on her first day: her colleague was like an ice-king from a fairy tale, cold and beautiful, and her class turned out to be a bunch of grumpy misfits.

Well no, only the two tall boys, the other ones seemed agreeable enough, but Kira was not used to scowling teenagers. It made her feel ill at ease and unwelcome; everything in this place made her feel unwelcome and she had half a mind to go home again and call it a day.

She had tried, but there was no place for her, not here, not anywhere else.

The door opened and the woman from before shoved a document cart piled high with folders in.

“You’re new to the town too, aren’t you?” The woman nodded slowly when Kira admitted that she was. “You and the curly boy, you don’t even know what mess you’ve gotten yourself into.”

Making a non-committal gesture, Kira encouraged her to go on. “You’ve met Dwalin and Thorin, I expect. They’re the local troublemakers. Hmmmm…” The woman pulled out a chair from under a deserted table and leant against it as if she couldn’t bear to sit down for this story.

“Their family, Thorin’s parents to be exact, they had a business. Beautiful it was. It burned down…some say, Smaug, the former teacher was behind it. We don’t know. There was some point of contention between them, but…”

“What about Thranduil?” Kira asked, the question falling from her numb lips.

“Oh…he…it was a beautiful business as I said and there have been important possessions of his lost in the fire. It…it is a time ago now. Thorin’s father has disappeared, you know, and Thranduil thinks he might have taken off with the most valuable parts. I don’t know if that’s true.”

The woman bit her lip, she knew she was gossiping, but she obviously thought that Kira had a right to know those things. Probably, she wanted to chase her away, but with every word, Kira’s faltering resoluteness firmed up again.

“Who is taking care of them? They’re kids.” Kira cried out, horrified by what she was hearing.

“Older cousins; they’re a strange clan. Secretive. Weird. Hostile. Thorin should have graduated, but he sticks around for his sister. Thranduil is her headteacher.” The woman sighed heavily. “We’re all one tangle of resentment and hate here.”

A fire, Kira thought, a future gone up in flames, a legacy fallen to ashes.

“What kind of person was this Smaug?” She then prodded on, curious about her predecessor.

“Smaug? Sly, charming, wickedly smart, very cunning…and dark. Oh, Kira, can I call you Kira? Leave girl, there is nothing here for you. Smaug and Thranduil? They survived here because their hearts have turned to stone a long time ago. The kids will hurt you; destruction is all they know.” She took a deep breath.

“Those children were raised on hatred, they absorbed distrust at their mother’s tit, they suckled on hostility. They will take everything from you if you let them.” The woman tapped the folders on the cart.

“I’m telling you, you don’t need to know. Leave this place. There’s too much death around here.”

Everything in Kira revolted.

“What made people that hard and bitter?” She asked, breathless with shock and pity.

“Loss. If you lose someone you love, you seek for culprits and there are more than enough potential candidates around here.”

Kira thought of young Bilbo’s flush, of Thorin’s shy smile and Legolas’ beautiful drawing, and grabbed the first one of the folders resolutely. “I have nothing to lose.” She whispered and plunged into the heart-breaking life story of one Tauriel; a girl who had impressed her with zealous interest and brave kindness.

The woman left and soon after, the door to the library was shoved open again and Gandalf strolled in, his grey wool cardigan stained with chalk and his beard hiding a sad smile.

“You’ve taken an interest in them, I see.” He said in a low voice, but his presence startled Kira so much that she uttered a frightened yelp. “Yes, yes, I wanted to know what all this talk of hate was about.”

Kira set aside the folder she had been browsing. “You have been crying.” Gandalf said softly, handing her a handkerchief and sitting down on the discarded chair the administrator had left pulled out.

She sniffed; she had just found out that the sweet-tempered blonde boy, son of the imperious colleague with the amazingly beautiful eyes, was semi-orphaned. His report cards said he was dumb, slow to understand and illiterate, but Kira had seen him read. All the notes about him betrayed a sense of impatience and exasperation that must have heightened the pressure on the poor kid, she thought. It was hard enough to be another teacher’s son, did people have to expect so much of a boy his age?

“Come, I’ll invite you to a milkshake, Miss Kira.” Gandalf extended his hand with the same natural friendliness as he had when handing her a handkerchief earlier. “Ah, you’ve kept the worst one for last.” He tapped on the thick folder bearing Thorin’s name.

Kira didn’t want to admit it, but she was frightened. The woman had been partly right and there was a lot of darkness in this town; shady things had happened, and Kira was unable to comprehend how people could burden mere children with past grievances they had not been a part of.

“There’s a little shop just down the main road.” Gandalf was chattering gently, shoving the last file into her satchel, and steering her out of the gloomy library carefully. “It will do you good to get out of this building.”

When she saw the blinking lights, her eyes burned and she wondered how long she had been sitting in the dark library, crying helplessly over the fate of children she had only met today.

“Miss Kira!” A honey-coloured mop of hair appeared in her blurry field of vision, and she was tempted to sling her arms around Bilbo. “Bilbo…” She sighed. “Oh, have you been crying?” Bilbo looked up, alarmed and worried.

“I’m okay, kiddo, it’s all fine.” She lied, she knew it and so did Bilbo.

“Oh, that girl over there, that’s Thorin’s sister.” Gandalf whispered into her ear. Kira looked up only to see the beautiful creature that had been with mopey Dwalin before class. She should have known, Kira thought, now that she saw them together, it was as clear as day that they were related.

“God, they’re such charming children.” Kira sighed under her breath. “Isn’t he just?” Bilbo sighed along, blushing a dark pink under Kira’s gaze that had snapped back to him. Kira didn’t know what this town’s ideas and beliefs were on that kind of crush; she had not been here long enough to gauge how people reacted to single women and same-sex couples, but it was clear that Bilbo himself felt terrible about his own words.

Kira wondered if there was no hairdresser in town, all the haircuts she had seen this far were exceptionally long and flowy, or awful like Ori’s, and the fact that half of all the people she had met this far were cramped into the small ice-cream shop reminded her of the woman’s words. They really were all packed one on top of another, all the time, no wonder there were frictions and animosities.

“Hello, are you the new teacher?” Kira snapped out of her reverie to be confronted with the fresh face of a young girl who looked up at her expectantly. “You sure are pretty.” She went on, which made Kira blush.

“I am Dís, I’ll introduce myself, old Thrandy interrupted me before and…my brother is useless.” She had the most dazzling smile, small dimples to either side of her generous mouth that was so unlike the grim line of her brother’s and eyes like a summer sky. She was the first happy person she had met, Kira realised, and her eyes flew to Thorin who observed them with meticulous sharpness.

His baby sister, of course, he’d throttle me on the spot if I threatened the girl in any way.

“I am…the new teacher. I’m not so sure about the pretty part.” Kira murmured, unsure how to proceed with Bilbo and the girl both now staring up at her as if she owed them some kind of explanation or answer to a question nobody had asked.

“Was Thorin very gruesome?” Dís asked with a mix of morbid pleasure and honest worry. Kira saw Bilbo flinch; so this was how they would handle things, she thought, Bilbo and her would be more or less mockingly warned so as to counteract every single potential disappointment…or expectation.

Squaring her shoulders, Kira lifted her chin and replied: “No, I expect great things of the young man.”

An eerie silence fell over the group and Kira could feel Gandalf stiffen just behind her; he was hovering in the door as if to keep her from retreating. Little did he know that Kira usually met her fears head-on, she would not back out of a shop because she happened upon a group of students; not even when it was obvious that she had been crying.

“Nothing ever happens here, so tell me, what did you think of old Thrandy? He was certainly flushed and a little grumpier than usual…” Dís had an infectious smile, Kira thought as she felt her own lips being pulled up by an unseen and unfathomable force. “Mister Thranduil was…very courteous.” She replied weakly, remembering with painful clarity how she had called him an asshole in the least civil display of discontentment possible, short of shoving him outright.

The idea of shoving someone that tall and strong made her giggle under her breath.

“He doesn’t like us much.” Dís said it off-handedly, but Kira had been a teacher for too long not to notice the tiny quiver that made her smile blur for a second. Once again, Kira wanted to protest and assuage the girl’s pain, but what did she really know? She had only arrived in this clusterfuck of a town.

“Do you think…could you like us? Please?” Her huge eyes shone like headlights. She looked so much like her brother, only softer, more open, and much more vulnerable. It was the age, Kira thought, it was the fact that he had always held his hand over her and, right now, he bulldozed towards them.

“Dís…leave the woman alone.” He gave her an apologetic smile; begging for affection was beneath his dignity apparently, so Kira turned her attention back to the girl and sighed: “I’m doing my utter best.”

“We’re not so bad, really. Don’t…don’t believe what people say.” She tapped her finger against the folder sticking out of Kira’s satchel. Her brother’s name was clearly visible and, unlike Kira, Dís seemed to know exactly what lay between the faded grey layers of cardboard.

“Dís, that is enough. Leave her be.” Thorin repeated, trying to pry his sister away. “Don’t mind her.” He said to Kira.

“Let go of me, you stupid oaf. How many times have you cornered old Thrandy in the hallway on my behalf? Can I not, for once, speak up for you?” Her eyes were flaming with blue fire now, reminding Kira of a copper flame.

“Don’t…don’t believe what people say, I can only ask you to make up your own mind. Both of you…” Dís then addressed both Bilbo and Kira who exchanged a puzzled look. “I don’t know anything about the idle tittle-tattle of the town.” Bilbo puffed up his chest and made a small gesture of dismissal.

Kira, on the other hand, did not know what to say. As a professional, she was bound to put at least some faith in the words of her colleagues and her predecessor; she knew teenagers to be manipulative, potentially mean-spirited, and profoundly selfish beings. It would have been more careful to heed the warnings others had given her.

“So…about your milkshake?” Gandalf prompted her from behind and Kira thought that she needed something stronger than a milkshake tonight to get settled into bed, but she would not get shit-faced in front of the students.

“The strawberry one is good.” Bilbo offered. Her eyes slid over the sign hanging on the wall.

“Chocolate-Mint?” She turned to Gandalf. “Unusual.” He commented. “Nobody likes that much.” He made a face.

“I am not everybody else…and I do.” Kira replied firmly and followed the man to the counter to escape the students.

The whole town seemed strangely informal to her and yet, there were so many things she could not quite understand, as if there was a deeper, darker truth hidden behind every brazen interaction.

“I see Thorin has taken a shine to the new kid.” Gandalf commented in a low voice when he returned with their drinks to the little booth Kira had taken in the meantime, far away from the kids, in a quiet corner. “At this time, he’s usually in the little hardware shop his family keeps.”

Kira could hear that Gandalf was trying to tell her something, but her head was still fuzzy with second-hand pain and first-rate confusion. “You’ll fit right in with us, I think.” Gandalf went on, nodding at her bare hands. No rings. For a woman her age, it was rare, and as her colleague and superior, he of course knew that she had come here alone.

No husband. No children. No emergency contact either.

“Young Bilbo is an orphan.” He murmured on. “There are too many orphans in this town.” Kira replied tonelessly.

“It wasn’t always like that…It won’t be like that forever.” Gandalf said and she had to believe in the faith vibrating strong in his voice. Of course, it wouldn’t stay like that, Kira thought, they would grow up and if this place was not right for them, they would find another one.

She drank her milkshake slowly, eager and reticent at the same time to take a look at that last file in her satchel. Her mind was full of what other people had told her: her colleagues, the administrator, that girl…

When she dared glance over, she saw Bilbo laughing at something Dís had said, and it seemed like the ghost of a smile danced on Thorin’s face. God, there were so many open scowls and just as many aborted smiles in this town.

“Are they…” Kira started to voice her concerns, but relapsed into silence, it was none of her business.

“Are they what, dear? Allowed to flirt? I’d hope so, these things come easier to the younger generation.” Gandalf tapped the side of his nose as if he knew that she was hopeless in the romantic department.

“I don’t need to know.” She said hastily, almost tipping over her empty glass as she got up and grabbed her satchel.

“Kira? You will soon learn that there is no escaping “knowing” in this town. I am so sorry, but you’ll eventually have to choose a side. Will you take the easy path?”

She froze.

“Here, take this. I’ll see you at work. Tomorrow.” He handed her yet another handkerchief, a beautiful, delicate thing that had no business being in the possession of a slightly scatter-brained, decidedly masculine headteacher.

“I bought it in the emporium that once was.” Gandalf said with a sad smile. “Before the fire.” Kira answered tonelessly.

“Thranduil said that someone with my soft heart should not be here.” She felt like telling on the colleague, but the recollection of his words cut deep, and she needed some kind of reassurance.

“Thranduil believes softness to be weakness. Do you have a strong heart, Kira?”

She did not know how to answer that question; it was novel to her, nobody had ever asked her anything remotely as confusing and irrelevant. She had never had any medical problems of the cardiovascular variety, but she doubted that this was the meaning he had been trying to convey.

“We’ll find out soon enough.” He grinned and when the door swung open, he sat back and waited.

“Miss Kira.” Already, she recognised the shy, quiet quality of the voice that reminded her of those wispy curtains her aunt Imelda used to have in her living room and that had ended up torn to shreds by her vicious Siamese cats.

“Legolas.” She turned around, satchel in hand, only to find her face almost pressed into the perfectly starched button-down of someone who has definitely not the nearly translucent boy.

“Mister…” – “If you can call me asshole, you can call me Thranduil.” His voice cut like a well-honed blade, slicing easily and elegantly through her defences…No jagged edges, no serrated indentations…Acid running like water and leaving nothing but burning pain behind.

She was tempted to call him asshole again, but she clenched her teeth before bowing her head slowly.

All the kids eyes were glued to her now; she could feel the prickling heat of their gaze on her neck. “Good evening. I’m on my way home.” She said courteously and tried to push past them.

“Legolas, go sit with your classmates, I’ll walk your teacher home.” Thranduil declared with icy determination.

“Why? What danger could lurk in the shadows for me when clearly, everyone is here?” Kira snapped.

“No, he’s right. It is not safe.” She had not noticed that the students had come up behind her, but she could hear that it pained Thorin to the core of his heart to admit that the hated teacher was, for once, not completely wrong.

“Stay with your classmates, Legolas, I will walk Miss Kira home.” Thranduil repeated and Legolas shuffled his feet for a moment before being pulled away by Bilbo. He didn’t get along with his classmates, Kira knew, but the fact that Thorin had not objected, told her that they all agreed to this plan.

Kira could not fathom what peril could hide in this sleepy, little town other than being smitten by a lightning bolt made of pure contempt and hatred, but when Thranduil held the door open for her, she moved outside readily enough.

For a while, they walked in resentful silence, each one thinking about the angry words that had been uttered between them. “I took…” She started, but he waved her words aside. “I know where you live.”

Of course, he knew. Everyone knew. Maybe, she’d be murdered in her sleep by the cloud of ominous darkness hovering over every square inch of this godforsaken place.

“Lock your door and say your prayers.” He mumbled, looking tired all of a sudden, as if the polish had worn away and washed off and all that was left was a middle-aged man who was alone in the world with a child he could not understand and a bunch of neighbours he didn’t like.

“If you see a fiery red sports car…” he started and waved her past her own building and towards a small corner shop.

“If ever anything feels amiss, you call Gandalf, the school, me…and you come here.” He went on insistently.

“Thranduil.” Another man stepped out, his eyes cautious and guarded as they fell on her tall companion. “Balin, this is Miss Kira. She’s your boys’ new teacher.”

The older cousin then, Kira thought, barely older. Where were the women in this town? Where were the mothers?

“It was mighty good of you to take her home.” Balin nodded slowly, giving Kira an appraising look.

“Now, look here lass, if anything happens, you come here.” – “What should happen?” Kira wanted to laugh, but she remembered: there had been a terrible fire, a man had disappeared, a car had been damaged, mothers had been lost. She was an outsider, and she knew nothing of the things that haunted these people.

“If he comes back.” Balin just replied and Kira was surprised at the grave nod Thranduil gave as a reply.

“Who? Smaug? What kind of guardians are you if you let someone that dangerous be alone with your little ones?” Kira exploded. “Little ones? Have you seen Thorin and Dwalin? They’re hardly little ones.” Balin laughed heartily.

“He held sway, let’s put it like that, and we could not dislodge him against his will.” Thranduil explained suavely.

“Not that you’ve tried really hard.” Balin mumbled into his beard.

“He was a fucking menace; he’s done terrible harm to those children!” Kira could not fathom how they could be so calm about that. “Aye, that’s a grief we all have to live with. I don’t think he’d come back, but if he does…well, we’ll know how to deal with him.” Balin said with pride in his voice.

“I’d rather let him tear me limb from limb than expose any of my students to that monster ever again!” Kira could feel the tears of anger and helpless indignation threaten to dash her brittle voice to pieces.

“You’re a fiery one, lass, I’ll give you that. Maybe, we all need more of this around here.” Balin chuckled and gave her a card. “Oi, Miss Kira, everything alright?” Dwalin came out, his hands covered in dark dust and his face glistening with sweat.

“Yes, I am fine. Suffocating on so much testosterone, but I am alright. One would think some evil power would send ghouls and dragons after me as soon as I step out alone.” She chuckled under her breath.

“Don’t wander around alone too much. I trust Thorin and Dís have taken care of the new kid?” Dwalin nodded when Kira’s eyes widened. They were being herded like sheep. With a tiny nod of the head, Dwalin and, what Kira surmised must have been his older brother, returned to their shop.

“They’re distasteful people, but they can protect you. We’re just up there.” Thranduil accompanied her back to her own suite of flats, pointing at a small rise where a beautiful white mansion peeked out from a patch of dark trees.

“Don’t call them distasteful.” Kira grumbled. “Lady, you call people assholes.” He reminded her.

“I’ll never live that one down.” She said through gritted teeth. “No, you won’t. We have a long memory when it comes to grievances and offenses.” It didn’t sound like a threat, there was no anger or even hurt in his voice; he was merely stating facts.

Rolling her eyes at him, she jangled her keys and made her way into the building. All of this was completely ludicrous, but she locked her door twice and fastened the bolt as well before taking off her shoes and cuddling up on the small sofa.

Kira wished she had someone to talk to, someone who would be interested in her first day at work and who would laugh and groan with her about that absurdly handsome, stuck-up, judgemental, overly sensitive colleague of hers whose eyes made her wish for summer and picnics outside.

Also, she yearned for someone to hold her as she opened the thick file and leafed through records of detentions and disciplinary procedures until she came to a clear line in Thorin’s academic career: he had been a good student, wild and impatient but also diligent and gifted, up to a certain point and only after that had he turned into a teacher’s nightmare.

Kira rubbed her eyes, she could barely believe that those words, “dangerous”, “vicious”, “devious”, “insane”, should be applied to a man that young. Thinking back, she saw a hunched-over youth, uncomfortable in his skin, wary, and definitely traumatised; she had never had the feeling that he had been threatening her in any way though.

One thing was for sure, Mister Smaug had hated the kid and he had not missed a single opportunity to make his life miserable, going as far as scribbling defamatory notes about Thorin’s family into the official records.

Piecing together what she could glimpse by reading between the lines, the family had built an emporium, but the grandfather’s megalomania had attracted the wrong kind of attention, and everything had literally gone up in flames. The father had disappeared, leaving the son to bear the burden of a reputation of being a greedy, thieving beggar – born and bred.

Nobody could see her now, so Kira lay down her head and cried.

It had been only one day, and already, she had no idea what to do and how to go on in this quagmire of secrets and lies.

Her mind wandered back to those fresh faces, to the willingness of Tauriel and Ori to work, to Bilbo’s calling out to her to give her opinion, to Legolas’ pride over a drawing, to Thorin’s and Dwalin’s surprising protectiveness, and she knew that even if Smaug came back and set her ravishing asshole of a colleague on fire in front of her eyes, what really mattered were the children. She would try her best to make a difference…at least for those who might change the fate of the world…in time.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Elysian

*Tom Hiddleston x reader*

Words: 7.1k

Warnings: none (minor mention of blood)

Summary: You're an aspiring actress who has landed a minor role in the newest Marvel production. What could possibly go wrong in a scene including you, Tom and a real golden dagger? Maybe what seems like one giant mistake to you is all it takes to change your life forever. And definitely not in the way you anticipated.

Request: by @lady-of-lies , you definitely get some villain vibes here, dear 😁💗 hope you like it even though I changed some stuff 🙈

Also check out my Masterlist!

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"You have no idea who you are up against… I'm a god!" He roared, black hair tickling his neck as he dodged a sharp shred of reality-shaking energy. The young woman in front of him stared right into his soul with her incredibly piercing eyes as she strode closer with a threatening elegance that made him shudder as he stumbled backwards.

"It is the gods who created mortals, and who taught them how to fear. I am who created the gods." Her velvet voice wrapped around his senses as he tripped over a helmet lying on the blood soaked battlefield. He fell backwards, landing first on his butt and then on his back, seeing stars once his head hit the hard ground a little too forcefully for his own good. A brief glimmer of irritation flashed through her eyes, but passed as quickly as it had appeared.

Just as he was about to scramble back onto his feet, she had closed the distance between them and he knew it was over now. It was done, there was nothing he could do but stare up at her with wide, frightened eyes.

In a slowness that bordered on torture, she drew a golden dagger from beneath her bloodied garments, taking her time as she sat down on his torso to keep him pinned to the ground. Not that he could've moved anyway… it was as if she had bewitched him, caught him in the trap that was her beauty, only to finally grand him the honor to find his master at her own hands.

The heavy, sleek metal of her dagger met the heated skin of his neck as she softly drew the blade along his throat, with too little pressure to cause serious harm and yet with too much to leave the skin unharmed. She let out a sigh, a moan that lay on the thin line between alluring and insane, tracing the thin bloody line she had left on his throat with one single finger.

His chest rose and fell faster than the seconds that passed as he couldn't help but watch her, parted lips, breathing in the lethal aura of danger that radiated off her like the sweetest perfume.

His heart skipped a beat as she lifted her fingers to her lips, licking his dark crimson blood off her fingertips as her eyes remained fixed on his. Maybe the line between alluring and insane was even more narrow than he had known…

The dagger lay heavy against his throat yet again, and he closed his eyes with a wicked grin of his own. "Do it, darling… I am ready to meet my creator."

He didn't see it, but heard it clear as day, as night in your sweet and gentle voice, the same grin, the same twisted sense of humor. "Oh, but sweet god of mine… You already have."

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"Cut!" A loud voice bellowed through the open air of the current set, followed by an overwhelming silence that was nerve wrecking in its depth. Then a sheer incredible amount of people erupted in chattering and talking. Bright lights came into focus, white reflective screens, fuzzy microphones…

You let out a shivering breath, closing your eyes for a second. That… had been more intense than expected, deeper, more difficult to come back from. Then you gazed down at Tom, your scene partner on whose chest you were still sitting, as he looked at you like a deer in the headlights. A deep blush came onto your cheeks immediately as you moved off his torso as quickly as possible, standing next to his large frame on the ground in awkward silence.

After a second of being overwhelmed by the intensity of the previous scene, you finally offered him a hand to get up, which he took reluctantly at first, but then with certainty. God, that Loki costume was heavy as hell… and Tom was too freaking tall.

After helping him onto his feet, you looked at his overwhelmingly handsome yet stunned face for a second longer, then quickly down to your feet. Slowly you came back to your right mind, becoming Y/n once more instead of your nameless character in the movie.

You'd clearly overdone it with the scene, you realized that only now… oh gosh, you'd literally hurt him! Physically cut his real skin with that stupid dagger! Who on earth had deemed it a good idea to give you a real fucking dagger?! Oh no… you'd actually hurt Tom! The cut on his throat was still bleeding a tiny bit, and your lips parted in shock at what you had done. This was your first major movie, and even though you only played a minor character that literally had only this one appearance, you had managed to screw up even that and cut a fellow actor with a dagger. Tom, of all people! The main character of this movie, and the sweetest human being in existence. Going by the unusually loud chattering around you, you had severely screwed up. Did Tom even know your name…? There were so many minor roles in this movie, so many extras… He would need your name in order to make an official complaint.

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his wide ones as your mouth opened and closed a few times, no sound coming out.

"I… I'm so sorry!" You finally breathed as tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks in small rivers. Then a swarm of assistants came rushing to his side, tending both to his costume and the small wound you had caused. Everyone was ignoring you for now, everyone but Tom, whose eyes were still fixed on yours intently. You opened your mouth to say something, to apologize over and over again, but by the time your mind had caught on, someone had taken a hold of your arm and dragged you off the current set, and out of Tom's earshot.

"I'm so sorry!" You rambled over and over again, not allowing yourself to cry just yet. "I'm so incredibly sorry! Please, let me talk to Tom… Or at least let me do the scene again, I promise I won't screw up this time!"

Yet, the middle aged assistant remained in silent indifference as he accompanied you to the costume department to get your garments and makeup removed. Only once the two of you reached his destination, he turned around to you once more with a sigh in resignation. "Your job is done, Miss L/n."

"What?" You frowned in irritation as your head spun a million miles a minute. "Am… am I getting kicked out?"

"The director said we're moving on to the next scene while we still have Mr. Hiddleston on set. He asked you to please wait here until further notice." The man looked at you so neutrally that you wondered if he had even been around to witness your disaster of a scene. At least he didn't seem to judge… but your own mind was doing enough of that already for a good dozen of people. Without another word he turned on his heels and headed back to where you had come from, while you tried your best to keep from crying as you stepped into the department.

Honestly, you didn't even care much for the three women working to turn you back into yourself, nor for their attempts at aimless chattering. Your mind was stuck trying to analyze what had happened, when things had taken a turn for the worse… how you could've gone THAT much into character to even turn the simplest scene into… whatever it had become now.

Probably because of Tom. Acting with him was like stepping into an entirely different world where being someone else was so incredibly easy… and being yourself was the hardest thing in existence. Not because you were scared of him, or insecure about yourself, but because you hadn't even spoken to the man in question up until two minutes before your scene. And you probably wouldn't be able to talk to him again, to apologize for what you had done… It wasn't like the extras got to spend a lot of time with the main cast anyhow, but now that you'd hurt him they probably would make sure to not let you close to him ever again.

Gosh, you'd screwed up big time. Nobody would ever give you a role again if the industry got notice of your failure here… Your career would be over before it had even started properly. Maybe your only defense was that they didn't prepare you in acting school, for the overwhelming package that was Tom. That was the poorest excuse ever, and just thinking about him brought a blush onto your cheeks and tears to your eyes. You just wanted to talk to him… to apologize a million times and maybe even get some advice on how to improve your acting so that this wouldn't happen again.

Once you had changed back into your own clothes, once you were ready to leave the role and this movie behind for good, the door was opened and another assistant stuck her head inside. "Is someone called Y/n here?"

"Yeah..." You almost yelled towards her from the other end of the huge hall, wondering just how many people were working on this set. Probably hundreds, at the same time. But this woman was younger than most others, closer to your own age, you saw that as you made your way towards her.

She looked at you with a bright smile. "Wow, YOU are Y/n? I could've guessed… You look all different without your costume and makeup… less scary!"

"Thanks, I guess..." You snorted as you packed up the few belongings you'd left here earlier this morning.

"Oh no, I meant it as a compliment!" She grinned excitedly, clicking her pen a few times too often. "Your scene was absolutely amazing! I was so scared just watching it from afar… but it was also kinda hot, really, I've never seen something like it! I honestly can't wait to see it on the big screen! I think the whole crew was stunned to silence for a moment back there, you scared the living daylights out of them!!!"

"Really?" You frowned at her deeply while a small blush crept onto your cheeks. "You enjoyed the scene?"

"Of course I did! You're an incredible actress! I feel so honored to work with you, even if only this briefly now." She kept grinning as she skipped on her heels in excitement and you couldn't help but give her a small smile in return. Maybe the scene hadn't looked too bad from the outside, after all, and your only fault was that you'd overstepped your boundaries in terms of both creative freedom and with the thing about the dagger… you still felt most wretched about that.

"You flatter me way too much… I think the producers didn't like that I improvised quite a bit. And I think Tom didn't like that I… cut his throat." You said in a twisted sigh as you nodded towards the makeup crew in acknowledgement before stepping outside, next to the nice assistant. "I'm fairly certain that everyone but you hates me now."

"Unlikely." She grinned even more, if that was even possible. "Mr. Hiddleston asked his assistant to ask you to wait in his trailer."

"You're his assistant?" You blurted out in order to keep your mind from registering the rest of the sentence.

"NO! I mean… no. His assistant asked their assistant, and they asked me to find you and tell you. I'm just a directorial trainee." She shrugged with a smile. "No one important."

"That explains it…" You gave her a half smile, and only continued once she frowned in irritation. "It explains why you're talking to me. Everyone else seems to be too important to be bothered with such a minority that is me."

"I'm sure that's not true…" She gave you another encouraging smile, and you found yourself really liking her indeed. Too bad you wouldn't be seeing her again.

"What's your name?" You asked out of sincere curiosity. Maybe once you'd been officially kicked out, you could at least bribe someone on set to get her contact info so you could buy her coffee sometime. For being nice to you, and for making you feel a little better in this moment of despair.

"Oh, I'm Emma." She chuckled. "Basically no one, compared to you guys. Just the girl who's sent to fetch coffee."

"I'm sure you're not no one!" You replied, feeling the odd need to comfort her as well. "Everyone starts out small… Believe me, in no time you'll be a director of your own. I mean at least YOU won't get kicked out for cutting anyone's throat today. You still have an entire career ahead of you! Nobody will want to talk to ME after this..."

"You're too kind, Y/n… For now I can only hope, dream, to move up the career ladder and become some famous actor's personal assistant. And I doubt that you will be fired though. Mr. Hiddleston seems fairly interested in talking to you, once he is done shooting for the day."

"Why?" You asked, a little too slowly for your own liking. While you really wanted to make things right with him, you also couldn't help but wonder why he would want to talk to you, out of all people. He didn't seem like the revenge kinda guy...

"Well, I have no idea. I'm only supposed to accompany you to his trailer now and make sure you have everything you need." She giggled as you followed her through the maze of the trailer city built a little offside the main set. It was still under construction, for this was only the first week of shooting. "Have you talked to him a lot?"

"I haven't talked to him at all outside of the scene." You sighed. "I mean I tried to apologize for what I did, but I didn't get to."

"Looks like you're going to talk to him now. Well, later today." She shrugged again, stopping in front of one of the most plain trailers on the whole ground, unlocking the door and holding it open for you. "He said you're welcome to make yourself at home."

_______________

It was odd at first to be alone in Tom's trailer, and you felt like you were severely intruding in his privacy. But he'd asked you to wait here, and you would not disappoint the man you admired so much yet again. Thus you had the smallest look around, eyes lingering longest on the small collection of books he kept stacked in a dainty shelf. With an unyielding curiosity that fought its way to the front of your mind, you picked out the most worn out looking book and flipped it open on the first page as you sat down on the small couch.

You didn't know how much time passed as you were completely absorbed into the story, the scenes and chapters playing out in your head like a movie on its own. It was so captivating that you completed forgot about the messed up scene, about your worries and about where you were, leaving you raw and open only to the world of the book.

Up until the door was ripped open, making you jump badly and drop the book into your lap with a small gasp. With a start everything came rushing back to you, the fear, the anxiety, the guilt, the request for you to wait here... but the person who was currently staring at you in equal confusion was neither blond nor tall. And definitely not informed that you'd been asked to be here.

"Hi." You blurted out in nervousness, staring at the bald man in the doorway.

"Who are you and what are you doing here? Where's Tom?" He rasped with a deep frown, scanning the trailer with his eyes before they basically dug into your forehead.

"Y/n; reading; I have absolutely no idea." You answered quickly, and he seemed fairly irritated at your answer for a second, then his eyes widened in recognition.

"You're the girl from the battle scene! The one everyone's talking about!" He uttered in surprise. "Almost didn't recognize you without all the makeup."

Once more you blushed upon hearing that for the second time of the day. Being recognized by anyone wasn't something that happened to you… You'd only ever been in very small productions after finishing acting school, and even if people like Tom Holland were roughly the same age as you, you were nowhere near as famous. You doubted you'd ever be. But this guy at least seemed to have seen your scene, and you didn't know if being recognized for THAT was really an achievement.

"Uh, yeah…" You finally managed to say, blushing even more. "That's me. Sorry."

"Sorry for what, dear?" He laughed, shaking his head to himself. "I must say… You did scare the crew quite a bit. And you scared poor Tom a very large bit! Didn't see that coming, and neither did he probably."

You opened your mouth to reply, but yet again didn't find the right words to express how sorry you were for scaring Tom, and everyone else. How incredibly sorry you were for hurting him, for changing the scene without talking about it. So you put on the best half smile you could manage and just looked at the man in hopes that he would leave soon.

"And… You're waiting for Tom?" He asked after a moment of awkward silence, leaning in the doorway as if he owned the place. But who were you to judge, reading Tom's books and all… However you didn't like that he was blocking the only exit, it was making you more nervous by the second.

"Yes." You replied in mostly faked certainty, wondering who exactly he was and what he wanted.

"Are you two… well acquainted?" He inquired further and you weren't sure if you were comfortable with where this conversation was headed.

"No, we… we actually haven't talked to each other much on set. Outside of the scene, I mean." You replied nonetheless, playing nervously with the zipper of your hoodie.

"So… You're not dating or anything? Good… I mean, uhm… Because whew, that scene you put on back there was pretty hot." He shrugged with a nervous laugh. "You… you played the little tease really well."

"I didn't play a tease, I played a goddess." You replied earnestly, giving him a deep frown. "I take my characters very seriously, and you might consider doing the same."

A deep crimson colored his cheeks a short moment later and he looked to the ground, then back at you with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I… I didn't mean to insult you. I was just honestly surprised that someone so young could have such an intense energy on stage."

"I will take that as a compliment, so thank you." You replied politely and returned a small smile. Maybe he was odd, but politeness was just one of the things you had trained yourself to show in any situation, no matter what. In the end, kindness always pays off.

After another short moment of uncomfortable silence, exchanged glances in awkwardness, you picked up the book in your lap once more and the man started pacing back and forth outside, in front of the trailer. The cold wind that blew through the open door chilled you in an uncomfortable way, covering your skin in goosebumps as you tried reading the words on the page… But you couldn't focus with that guy walking up and down outside the door. So your thoughts went back to Tom, to the scene… You wondered if the cut had stopped bleeding by now.

However you didn't get to dwell on these thoughts, or on the cruel emotions that followed, as the velvet voice of none other than Tom rang out to your ears. Immediately your head snapped towards the door, but you could see neither him nor the man who'd been waiting here for his arrival. But you could hear them talking about something you didn't quite understand.

"What are you doing here, Jerry?" That was Tom… So Jerry was the name of the odd chap who had been so ineloquent in telling you that he fancied you.

"David sent me… I'm supposed to let you know that your proposition has been thought through and calculated." He said in a hushed voice that clearly told you that you weren't supposed to hear about this. Obviously that made it all the more interesting.

"And? What do they think about the idea?" Tom inquired, and you could practically hear his frown. You smiled… just because he didn't know you, didn't mean you also didn't know him.

"I don't know what exactly the whole thing is about, they said it's under closure until the whole thing is officially through the books, so don't expect me to give you any information about that… but I was told that after 'serious contemplation', your proposal has been deemed appropriate and will be put into action upon your notice." Jerry said in one single breath and you could hear him breathing heavily afterwards. Weird man.

"That is absolutely amazing!" Tom said with such a joy in his voice that you had to smile as well, despite not having any clue as for what he was excited about. But knowing him happy, for whatever reason, made you feel happy yourself.

Jerry whispered something after that, and you couldn't understand anything but your own name. A second later he excused himself, and Tom came into sight as he stepped through the door and closed it behind himself.

You jumped to your feet immediately, hiding the book in your hands behind your back as you looked at him with a slightly worried expression. You had no idea what to expect…

The cut on his throat was still faintly visible, now that he'd taken off his makeup and costume too. You felt your heart sink upon the sight.

"Hello Y/n…" He smiled at you as he closed the door behind himself and moved to stand in front of you. "I'm very sorry for the long wait, and yet glad you waited for me nonetheless."

"I…" You started, lips parting as you looked at him in a search for the right words. He didn't look angry at all, and it irritated you a great deal. "Of course I waited. You asked me to."

"I did indeed. We didn't get the time to chat before, and I wanted to get to know the woman who made my legs shake." He smiled down at you, then peaked over your shoulder. "What do you have there?"

With a small blush you showed him the book you'd almost finished reading by now. Maybe you should've put it back before he had come here…

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snoop at all! But I was waiting for so long, and started reading… and somehow lost track of time." You confessed, still finding nothing but amusement and happiness in his face.

"It's a great read for sure… One of my favorites." He chuckled softly and your racing heart relaxed a little. Why was he being so nice to you after what you'd done to him? "Would you like some tea?"

"What?" You blurted out, completely irritated.

"Tea… You know, dried herbs and boiling water? I'm making tea." He smirked ever so slightly, moving towards the small kitchenette. "Earl grey or green vanilla?"

"Why are you being so nice to me?!" You asked instead of answering his question, for the tension building up within you was just becoming unbearable. "I hurt you, and I ruined the scene… and you want to make me tea like we're friends."

"I surely hope we can get to the point of being friends soon." He leaned his head to the side with the softest smile. "Now, black or green?"

"Green please." You sighed in resignation, sitting back down on the couch as you watched Tom boiling water and setting up two mugs. Only once he placed your cup on the coffee table and then sat down on the couch next to you, you finally dared speaking your mind once more. "Tom, I'm so incredibly sorry… For just everything! For changing the scene without talking about it first, for just letting them drag me off afterwards and especially for hurting you! I still can't believe they gave me an actual dagger! I'm so sorry, I don't know how I could get so carried away… I'm really, sincerely sorry. Does it hurt much?"

"Please, you don't have to be sorry for anything. It doesn't hurt at all, don't worry. I've had far worse accidents on set." He offered you a reassuring smile that actually fulfilled its purpose in calming you down. "One time, I had Chris punch me in the face in order to make the scene look real. We had to repeat that a couple times… And it hurt way more than the little scratch I got today."

"So you're not angry with me? Not even slightly upset?" Your eyes widened as they were fixed on his curious ones intently. There really was nothing but genuine curiosity and kindness in his face, and it made your skin crawl.

"You almost sound like you want me to be upset." He chuckled, carefully removing his tea bag from the mug and placing it on a saucer. "But I'm most definitely not. I'll have to wear a scarf or a turtleneck for a couple days, but it's winter after all. I'm all good."

You let out a long and quite shaky breath, closing your eyes for a second. Then you moved to follow his example in removing your tea bag from the steaming water.

"You still seem quite distraught…" He commented after a short moment of silence, without a smile this time, but with honest concern. "Is there anything I can do to ease your mind?"

"Well, I'm honestly glad that I didn't hurt you all too much, and that you're not mad at me… but I still screwed up my only scene in the movie. And I need to get accustomed to the idea of getting kicked out now." You replied honestly, finding it oddly easy to talk to him. Really, it was as if he just radiated some enchanting sense of comfort, a magnetic field you couldn't help but respond to.

"Oh dear, you really do think you messed up our scene, don't you?" He asked in a sigh, giving you another smile that made your cheeks flush and your skin burn up.

"I did think so, yeah… but then I had two people telling me that somehow, I scared the entire crew… And that I scared you." You admitted the last part rather quietly, looking down to the tea in your hands.

"Oh, you definitely scared everyone on set! And you really did scare me as well." He laughed, making you look back up at his face. "It was absolutely amazing. I mean, it doesn't happen every day that the director is perfectly happy with the very first take! Especially not with younger actors. That's maybe the biggest compliment he could've given you… not having us redo the scene. It really speaks volumes about the quality of your acting."

Your eyes widened for a second, then you couldn't help but snort in return. "Yeah, sure…" You laughed in sarcasm. "He probably loved me cutting you open with a dagger and going all psycho on you."

"Well, I loved it for sure." He grinned, taking a sip of his tea in amusement. "As Loki and as Tom. But probably for different reasons."

"You…" You started, but the words stopped on your lips as they just parted in honest surprise. At least you didn't blush yet again, like a silly schoolgirl. "You LIKED what I did with the scene? But… it wasn't scripted or anything. I mean you weren't supposed to trip over that helmet, and I wasn't supposed to even come that close to you. Leave alone actually sit on you… oh god, I actually did that. Well, my character did. I kinda let her take the lead a little too much." You groaned, hiding your face in your hands. "I'm sure you'll laugh at me for preparing such an in-depth character for such a minor role…"

"Do you want me to laugh? Because I most definitely could, but that wouldn't be very sincere at all." Tom still smiled at you so fondly that you were slowly believing him that he really did like your performance indeed. "No, in all seriousness, I think your skill is remarkable. You are an amazing actress, and I loved working with you."

"Thank you. Really, it means a lot to me." You finally allowed yourself to smile back. "It has been such a pleasure to work with you too. I mean, I probably wouldn't have done what I did if I hadn't been comfortable with you."

"Well, I'm honestly glad to hear that." He chuckled softly, looking down to his tea now. "And as for the director and the crew, I think they were immensely impressed with your acting as well. Of course, going off script isn't something most newcomers are expected or appreciated to do, but you just did so remarkably well that I think no one will believe you were new to the art in the first place."

"You flatter me way too much." You smiled at him, feeling truly comfortable and appreciated for the first time today. Well, maybe it was the second time you were appreciated. "It's rather easy to shine in your light."

"Now you're the one doing the flattering." He laughed and finally looked at you again with such a joyous twinkle in his eyes that you started grinning involuntarily. Tom was every bit the man you had thought him to be, and even more than that.

"Just telling the truth…" You shrugged. "You're kind and funny and smart AND talented, and I'm…"

"The perfect match for that." He smiled at you in an almost teasing friendliness that only made you grin even more.

"Too bad we only had one single take together. I'm sure we would've had a good time." You sighed, feeling greatly disappointed now that you had been forced to see your scene in a different light. And getting to know Tom wasn't making it any better, the man was freaking amazing. "But I'm sure you have a great deal of nice extras to drink tea with in the future."

Tom rose an eyebrow at you in amusement as he took another sip of his tea, badly hiding his grin with the mug. You closed your eyes for a second, cringing internally at how wrong that last statement had come out.

"Sorry, that didn't really sound like anything I meant to say at all." You groaned, hitting your head against the backrest behind you in annoyance at yourself. "I only meant to say that I won't be coming back, now that my only scene is done. I'm just silly for being sad about it now."

"You're not silly at all! It's always sad to let a character go, especially if one developed it on their own, like you did. Did your character have a name, by the way?"

"Not in the script, no…"

"I read the script, Y/n… I know that. But I would like to know the name you gave the character."

"Yeah… of course." You sighed at your own stupid mind, rolling your eyes at yourself and making Tom chuckle with the small gesture. Well, at least you were amusing him. "I called her Ivy, in my head."

"That's a great name." He replied softly, finishing his tea a moment later. "Ivy and Loki… flows fairly well, wouldn't you say?"

For rest of the afternoon, Tom and you remained sitting on his couch, drinking tea and talking about the movie, about your character development, your previous works… But once the evening rolled around, you also started talking about Tom's and your interests, your hobbies and preferences, anything that came to your minds. Conversation was so easy between you that once you found yourself wondering why he was even bothering to get to know a random minor actress such as yourself, you actually asked him without hesitation.

"You're really intriguing, Y/n. Special. I would like to be your friend." Was all he answered to that, with the brightest smile. So you just let it go and enjoyed the fact that you got to spend time with him.

Yet, once the early evening had made way for late nighttime, you realized that you might actually have to get going. But leaving now meant quite possibly never seeing Tom again, and the thought left a pretty painful sting in your guts, heart and soul. Well… you shouldn't be surprised. He was a top scale celebrity, and you were at the point where even your relatives forgot your name at times. Friendships spanning over such an enormous social gap were rare, if even possible at all.

Tom seemed just as reluctant to let you go, for you could tell he had been enjoying the conversation, your time together, just as much as you had. But once you had gotten up and walked to the door, put on your jacket and taken your bag, he just stood towering in front of you with a kind smile.

"I really enjoyed today. It was a surreal experience to be here, to be in a scene with you, but a very fun one." You smiled back up at him with a bittersweet feeling in your entire being.

"I did too. Seriously. Maybe we will see more of Ivy in the future, who knows… I will see more of you for sure, if you allow me." He grinned and you rolled your eyes with a small smirk and a nod, making him chuckle. "Friends?"

"Definitely friends."

_______________

It had been a week and a half since your rather out-of-this-world-amazing experience on set, when you got a text message from an unknown number, asking you to come to the studios' executive office for a change in your contract.

In the sincere belief that they would cut your payment, now that you'd only been on set for one single day, you decided to wear the most professional dress you owned in hopes to seem somewhat more experienced in these things than you really were. Then you made your way to the office.

Upon your arrival, you were ushered into a conference room full of people you had mostly seen only once before, but never spoken to due to your simple insignificance in this production.

A second after you had taken a seat at the far end of the table, the door opened once more and in strolled Tom alongside the director of the movie. The deep frown that showed on your face as they moved to sit down next to you spoke volumes of the deep unsettlement rooted within your mind, and you silently looked at Tom in question, for you didn't dare to disrupt the silence of the room with words. He gave you a reassuring smile, which eased your nerves only slightly. What the hell was all of this about? Surely they wouldn't ask Tom to come in if it was only about cutting down your payment.

"Thanks for coming, everyone, I hope we can make this quick and go back to production." A woman at the other end of the table took up the word and went on about how production was going well thus far. Your attention was only partially on her though, as you couldn't stop glancing at Tom next to you, who kept grinning widely behind his strategically placed hand covering his mouth. What did he know that you didn't? Very unsettling indeed. But if it amused Tom, it couldn't be all too much to your disadvantage.

"Due to some serious convincing from various people in the producing crew – I'm looking at you, Tom – there has been a slight alteration made to the cast and the script." She stated more or less neutrally, but you could tell that she was most likely annoyed by whatever was going on. Everyone else seemed rather pleased nonetheless.

"As discussed before, we will expand Miss L/n's part in the movie and make her character a regular." The woman stated and went on talking about how that would mean they had to redo most of the previous week's work, but your mind was still stuck at her first sentence. They were bringing your character back for more scenes? Even as one of the mains?! How the heck…. Hiddleston. Your eyes snapped to the man next to you only to find that he was already looking at you in both happiness and amusement. Oh, this had to be his work… you just knew it. You wanted to smack and kiss him for it at the same time.

"Miss L/n will get a new contract for the entire duration of this production. If she agrees to become part of the main cast, that is…" The woman's words made your head snap back towards her in an instant, drawing your mind out of its own depth once more.

"Yes! Of course, I… I'm honored! I'd love to." You spluttered the words in an unnecessary haste, as if this amazing opportunity could be taken away from you any second that passed without your agreement.

A little while later, as most of the people had left and only the guys for the legal stuff remained, along with Tom who was patiently waiting for you to finish signing the thick pile of papers, the woman from before came stalking back into the room on her way too high heels.

"Miss L/n…" She started, rising her eyebrows as she spoke in a slightly condescending way that made you frown in return as you signed the last of the pages. "I assume you do not have your own assistants, trailer or security as of yet…?"

"No." You replied easily, polite as ever. Hopefully you wouldn't have to see much more of her in the future.

"I didn't expect so… It is unusual for such not-at-all known actors to be added to the main cast of a major production." She chirped and you hid your distaste for her behind a polite smile.

"Oh, she will be known everywhere by the end of the day, most likely. Don't worry about that." Tom commented from the side and you gave him a quick but sincere smile. Somehow, you got the feeling that even though you were new to this world of fame and setwork, you would be fine, for Tom would be there to help you.

"Alright, then we will assign you any of our own people for this production… do you have a preference of gender?" She sighed, not even trying to bother with Tom. That was a fight anyone was doomed to lose, after all.

"Can I have Emma?" You asked out of instinct, for once not caring that making direct requests wasn't something you could allow yourself in your position. But maybe it would be, now…

"Who?" The woman frowned, then rose an eyebrow at you.

"Emma… a directorial trainee?" You asked with an insecure frown of your own, looking at Tom for help.

"Curly black hair, rather tall, bronze skin?" He asked, furrowing his brows in thought.

"Exactly!" You smiled at him.

"She's David's assistant's assistant's assistant." Tom shrugged, giving you an amused smile. "She's always been too scared to talk to me."

"You want a trainee as your assistant?" The woman asked in disbelief. "We have better qualified personnel for that."

"Well, everyone starts small. And as you put it so very accurately, I'm not one of your A-listers. So a trainee will be just fine for me." You replied politely and Tom snorted quietly off to your right, making it even harder for you to suppress a devious smirk.

"If that's what you wish for, then you will get it." The woman smiled in disgusting politeness. "And for a trailer…"

"Put hers somewhere close to mine." Tom commented yet again and now you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing.

"Of course." She replied in a breath. "Here's your new script, Miss L/n. Please be on set tomorrow morning for a runthrough with the writers." Then she turned to leave in as much composure as she still could manage.

Once the door fell closed behind her, you let out a loud snort and rose to your feet, picking up the script and flipping through the pages. "This thing is freaking huge!"

"Yeah." Tom chuckled, watching you as you sauntered towards him. "Looks like the producers liked some Ivy to their Loki."

Right at his words, your eyes fell upon a random scene right in the middle of the movie. They really had named your character Ivy… You took some very much unnecessary pride in it.

"How on earth did any of this happen?" You laughed incredulously, looking at a widely smiling Tom.

"I told you I wasn't the only one impressed by your marvelous acting." He shrugged, and together you made your way out of the conference room and towards the elevators. "But I might have made a few suggestions to a few people here and there…"

"You're unreal, Tom… absolutely incredible." You shook your head to yourself as you clutched the script tightly to your chest with the happiest smile on your face. "Thank you."

"Hey, I did it for entirely selfish purposes." He laughed, placing a gentle hand on the small of your back as he followed you into the elevator. "I get to work with you every day now. That was worth the trouble."

"Are you looking forward to me making your legs shake again?" You teased with a smirk, knowing full well that today marked the beginning of something very great yet to come.

"Absolutely, darling."

______________________________

Story tags:

@lokixme @catsladen @anxiousdreamersworld @nonsensicalobsessions @runningawaywithloki @letoursilencebreaktonight @miruwen @crystal-28 @thats-what-i-call-british @randomlokifan

General tags:

@its-remy-not-ratatouille @wegingerangelica @thidls12333 @tomstoobeautiful @dreary-skies-stuff @averyhill4445 @wiczer @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @theweirdlunatic @caretheunicorn @kthemarsian @lady-of-lies @sadly-falling-through-wonderland @strawberrysandcream @noplacelikehome77 @theoneanna @mishaandthebrits @mygodisloki @i-am-a-mes @nonsensicalobsessions @exygon @hiddles-lobotomy @rjohnson1280 @annwhojumps @spookycatqueen @salempoe @headoverhiddleston @fanfiction-and-stress @createdfromblue @halszka-potter @thecreatiivecorner @themusingsofmany @inthemarvelvoid @from-hel-i-with-love @kinghiddlestonanddixon @scorpionchild81 @foodthatsgoodforyoursoul

Hope you guys enjoyed it 💗✨☺️ please let me know what you think 😁 I'm always so curious for your thoughts 🥰

[searchingforbucky]

FIC RECS (Part 6) :)

sorry if you got tagged in this again, I'm a dummy and deleted it on accident :( 

Request: Could you recommend me some biker!bucky fics? I’ve read all of @bucky-plums-barnes’ and I’m desperate for more

Alright guys, this is my favorite fic recommendation list I’ve done thus far. Lets buckle up for my absolute favorite AU. This one is LONG. But I just couldn’t stop I love this AU too much to not go on and on lol. These fics are amazing, I tried to keep it to one fic an author, but I stated if they had more! Also the descriptions may be a little smaller, because there were so many I didn’t want this to be way too long :) And shoutout to @bucky-plums-barnes for all of their amazing biker stuff too!

Swallow by @all1e23 

This fic here, is absolutely beautiful. The way Allie writes is so unique, and reading their work is always a wonderful experience. There is never an emotion that goes unfelt by the reader. This fic is a story that perfectly embodies the way love makes you act. Love isnt perfect, its heartbreak, and destruction, and pain, yet above all else its beautiful. Don’t go in expecting a fairy tail, go in expecting tangible realistic love between two broken people. Also, Allie has an amazing story called Home, that I also highly recommend.

New Girl by @omnomsauruswrites 

This was the first biker Bucky story I ever read, and I think thats why its one of my favorite AUs, because I got sun a good start with this fic. I love this story. We’ve got enemies to lovers, biker bucky, and a killer plot twist that I did NOT see coming. All in all it was such a lovely story. Its shorter chapters, but every word is purposeful to making you fall in love with both characters. In the end you get a happily ever after, and you couldn’t ask for more!

Howling’ For You by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Ohh my love, my whole heart is in this fic. This is such an amazing story. I sometimes don’t love the good girl bad boy trope because its overdone and excessive, but THIS. This is so well done, is he protective? Yes. But does he also know she is perfectly capable of being an independent human? Yes! There were so many twists and turns and absolutely heartwarming love between the two characters. I also love how in character every person is. Amazingly well done, would read it every day if I could.

Wild Horses by @whitewolfbumble

Bad Boy exterior SOFT boy middle?? Yes! This fic is so adorable. It really shows the build of the relationship, and thats always my favorite part. It was such a true to life story in my opinion, the reader started of lost and finding her place in the world, then this lovely group of people just accepted her and helped her through her tough times. It was such a heartwarming read, with angst that just solidified the connection between the characters. And the friendship they all had was so refreshing compared to some stories where people are just rude for no reason. Its a short yet sweet read, and I 100% recommend it.

Long Way Round by @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan

This was a hard one to choose, so many amazing biker stories they’ve written! But im a sucker for series’ and this series is so awesome. I LOVE Plus size reader stories, hell yeah representation! Now this story is a TRIP! Its like a really good episode of criminal minds. There are so many details jam packed into this that I couldn’t put my phone down! Shady gangs, corrupt leaders, and a smart as hell reader. This was just such a good read, not even for Bucky, but just for the incredible story telling. Sweet protective Bucky is always a plus though. Also, check out their other amazing stories like The Bounty, and Red Star Rebel, they’re just as amazing as this one!

A Real Sweet Guy by @mycupoffanfiction

I remember when I first read this it was only a oneshot and I was super sad, but then BOOM it turned into an adorable series. Its not done yet but its so good so far! Its the epitome of soft baby boy Bucky under a hard tough guy exterior. The way Ellie portrays relationships between characters is so cute, you feel the love between everyone whether that be platonic or romantic. Its through details that she sets up this lovely little universe that you just get sucked into, and honesty im fine staying there lol. I cant wait to read more of this one!

Rebel by @promarvelfangirl

Okay for this, just a warning, my device has a little trouble with the master list so it may be easier to use the desktop version :) Okay about the story, holy hell this one is cute. Bucky is HOPELESS, and just wants a date, Peter has the worst timing, and Steve just is along for the ride. I love mutual pining fics where one is completely oblivious to the other trying to ask them out, and the other is just trying their best lol. I felt like banging my head on the table very time Bucky got too nervous, but alas! It worked in the end, adorable little fic. They also have a cute set of biker Bucky stories called Fancy hair that I love so much.

Born To Run by @softbiker

Slow burn baby! This one is still in progress but hot damn is it good so far. I love this trope of the girl not really wanting anything to do with the guy but the guy and his friends being like well thats too dang bad! I love the idea that family isn’t what you’re born with, its who you love and who loves you. This fic is absolutely lovely so far, and though obviously I don’t know much about where its going to end up, where it is right now is good enough for me to put it on this list!

Notorious by @interestedbystanderwrites

I know I’ve been going on and on about how much I love Soft sweet Bucky. But I also LOVE badass tough guy who is very scary Bucky. And oh baby is this the perfect fic for that! Bucky is a felon, and a hot one at that. And what he sets his eyes on, he gets. That thing just so happens to be the all to trusting reader. This is such a thrilling fic. It reminds me of baby driver for some reason. I love seeing the cracks that show a bit of sweet Bucky. It leaves me waiting for more! He’s her addiction, she cant help but to stick around. Such a good fic, I cannot wait for more of it! 

Deny Me by @brooklynsboys 

This fic made my heart turn to mush. Its about an insecure reader, and a tough buck who has the softest heart ever but doesn’t know how to show it sometimes. My absolute favorite bucky is the bucky that only his girl gets to see, and this is the perfect representation of that. The way they write is spectacular. They get you to completely understand the feelings the character has without literally just writing it. You are right there in the world with them, feeling what they feel. And who doesn’t love a perfect happy ending?

Whatever it Takes by @sgtjbuccky 

Oh Buddy, lets talk about how much I LOVE this fic. Bucky is the biggest charming jerk there is, but you love to hate him. I was smiling the whole way through this read. Literally my face hurt by the end I was smiling so big! It was cute, and I felt every frustration, yet every single bit of the tension they had. The reader is a smart little cookie, and bucky is too cocky for his own good. If you want a cute extremely well written fic, this is the place to go!

Tender Surprises by @empyreanwritings 

Jesus, talk about tooth rotting tear jerking fluff. You know those videos where the child asks a pseudo-parent to adopt them? Yeah, thats this perfectly embodied in a fic. I cried, read it again, then cried some more. I love how it mixes tough biker Bucky with soft non-toxic masculinity father. We need more of that. It was so perfectly written, the flashbacks are perfectly placed, and give another layer of depth into this familial relationship they have. I love Dad!Bucky and Biker!Bucky, so to have them wrapped into on is perfect.

Softail by @nacho-bucky 

Theres something about the way Cait writes thats just poetic. She could write about my morning routine and it would be art. This fic is no exception. Its the cutest little thing, two people in a diner, brought together by chance and a little bit of courage. Its an adorable little story about trust, and taking a chance. Bucky is supportive and encouraging, reader is a little scared. But it all works out in the end, because everything is okay when you’re with the one you love. 10/10.

You Give Love, A Bad Name by @em-imagines

I love stories like these.  The cocky boy chasing the uninterested girl, yet there is obviously some tension there? Yeah, thats my cuppa tea right there. Also, its a high school AU! Love those. This story is definitely a mixed bag of feels. You get the super cute chase, but you also see a raw side of Bucky, and his unfortunate home life. As sad as it is, I think its a good representation of true life, where there is always something that you don’t know about someone. Theres vulnerability to this, and that makes it such a lovely story to read. Incredibly well done.

What’s On The Inside by @revengingbarnes

Is this technically a mechanic and not Biker AU? Yes. But he rides a motorcycle and its too good to not mention lol. This fic is ADORABLE. Mutual Pining! Shy flirting! Instant Connection! Bike Riding! Its incredibly well done too. Its just one of those feel good stories, it makes you smile, and want to get to know more about the characters. Soft Beefy bucky is my favorite boy, and this is SUCH a good representation of him. My heart was mush the whole way through. 10/10 would read again (for the 12739th time)

Broken by @allthebucky now on @poeticbarnes 

Forbidden lovers y’all, thats it. Like Romeo and Juliet except Bucky is a dummy who doesn’t know the right thing to do, and the reader just wanted truth. Its a short but sweet little fic, theres so much emotion packed into the story too! You feel the pain the reader and bucky hold at different times, but you also feel the longing as well. Its such a cute relationship they have, and I’m always a sucker for bucky putting the reader first!

Over The River and Through the Woods by @geminimoonbeamx

Sure its only September, but that doesn’t mean its not time for a killer Christmas Fic! Also another plus size reader hell yeah! I LOVE the domesticity from this! Its like Love Actually, a bunch of absolutely crazy people coming together, and the reader and Bucky are just trying to get out alive lol. It also really sweet in dressing what its like to be without those you love on holidays. A perfect balance of sweet and serious. Its so cute, and so funny. I have a non conventional family so I can relate to this so much.  The love between the two is so palpable and so heartwarming. 

Home Sweet Home by @sweet-barnes

Their name says it all. This story is just one big ball of sweet biker Bucky and his sleepy gal. I am always looking for those small tooth rotting fics just to boost my feelings for a day and oh man is this is. Bucky is the biggest cuddle bug in history and not even his scary biker persona can change my mind. This fic made me smile so hard, and then want to take a nice nap with the teddy bear Bucky Barnes himself.

Skin by @captain-ariel-barnes

Okay I love this one because I’ve not read another like it. I love how she portrays Bucky as having been in an accident and having memory problems because of it. Its so real and sad when you think about it because its entirely realistic and truthful to life. And boy is Bucky not just the sweetest thing ever. He wants to remember his girl no matter what, so he makes it permanent. Their relationship is so cute. I just love soft Bucky with my whole heart. Amazing story, so well done! 

The Mailbox by @kaunis-sielu

This one was one of the first one shots I read of biker bucky and I still love it so much! Bucky is such a softie, running into mailboxes fixing them, even having Steve paint it? Okay big bad biker guy, you sure are scary… Also, protective bucky yeah baby!! Hell do what he needs to to keep the reader safe, and oh baby if that isn’t like my favorite trope ever. Also the little sassy elements are hilarious. I also recommend their other biker fics such as Stitches, or Just Married. :)

Oh god. That was a long one. Would you believe me if I said I had to cut it from 37 to these 20 here? Hardest decision of my life lol. Thank you all so much for reading until the end. I hope you all love these fics as much as I do! :)

[lincolnonline]

but you’re coming undone | self-para

who?: lincoln clarington-smythe ( w/ special appearances from @winnieclarington, @zoepuckerman, @riverwashington, @finnschuesters & various other gleeks ) where?: the ski trip, in the cinema space when?: 1/15, karaoke night about?: link, in the midst of a drunken breakdown, takes to the stage during karaoke night...this can only end badly.

Link was ready for a ski pole to impale him right through his pretty little head. All he had done since he had unpacked his bag in his room legitimately question how long it would take for him to make it back to Westerville by foot. The answer was ‘far too long’ and the plan was scrapped pretty quickly. 

So, he had turned to the stash of booze he had brought with him and was hit with the genius idea...Karaoke night. Link needed to vent, he needed to sing. And he missed his baby girl Taylor Swift’s Sixth Studio Album Reputation more than anything. Pouring himself another drink, Link made his down to the elevator, making eye contact with the only other person in there. She wore a thick, fur-lined winter coat, face rosy from the cold. It He knew her face, she was from Carmel. “Ugh, Oceania right? Lemma borrow your coat, I’m dressed like a slut, I didn’t think this through.” With a cocked eyebrow and a mumble of ‘it’s River actually’, the girl took of her coat and draped it over Link’s shoulders just as the doors opened and he headed towards the cinema space without so much as a ‘thanks’.

He didn’t even need to open the door of the cinema space as just as he approached, two figures excited, leaving a cheering crowd behind them. Julien and...a girl. He didn’t get to catch her face, and at this point the faces of all women where blurring into one. Jaz, right? It had to be Jaz...Or maybe any other brunette from McKinley. As he entered, the first face he saw was Winnie’s and he pushed through the crowds over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, attempting to hug her without dropping his glass. “Hey babes, love you so much, you’re such an icon. Don’t touch me though or else I’m going to start screaming & crying,” Link said to his sister, handing her his now-empty glass and giving her an air kiss on each cheek before he shoved her back into a seat and made his way up into the stage.

“Hi everyone, I’m Link, I’m seventeen, I’m gay, I’m intoxicated and I’m having a psychotic breakdown,” Link said into the microphone, the large smile on his face not matching the strange & drunken introduction he was giving to himself. Shrugging off the large winter overcoat he was wearing, revealing what was essentially a glorified slutty school girl costume, the only difference being that Link had hand-embroidered ‘WHORE BEHAVIOUR’ across the ass of the skirt, and the jean jacket he had been giving my Sterling during Secret Santa last year, Link took the mic off the stand and began stumbling around the stage.

“You see, it’s Taylor vs. Kanye week at my school, which I know is a sentence that makes no sense, but it just so happens to be that there is a Taylor song that suits my current depression. Enjoy watching me publicly displaying my pain for you all.” As he finished his ramblings, the guitar-filled instrumental of the song began and Link, upon noticing where Zoe was sitting, drunkenly blew her kiss before beginning to sing.

“Seems the only one who doesn't see your beauty Is the face in the mirror looking back at you.”

Antsy and already sick to standing around on the stage, Link ungracefully dropped down on his ass as he sang, scooching himself off the ledge to he could walk around.

“You walk around here thinking you're not pretty-’ Jaz, is actually so pretty, has anyone told her that? ‘- but that's not true, 'cause I know you.” 

Link allowed himself to adlib a little, turning to around himself in attempts to locate the girl who had just been up singing and once he couldn’t find her before the next line, waving a dismissive hand. While he wasn’t exactly in his right mind at the moment and his voice wasn’t exactly sounding its best, he’d be damned if he let himself miss any lines and risk not getting his point across.

“Hold on, baby; you're losing it The water's high, you're jumping into it And letting go, and no one knows.”

Yeah, that was just how Link felt right now. He had found himself in some seriously deep waters and he had no idea how the fuck he was supposed to get out of this one. It was so easy for him to pay his way out of his issues but he was dealing with a life-or-death situation in terms of what life after high school would hold for. As he let this thought overcome him, Link sang out the next section with both hands on the microphone, eyes squeezed shut.

“That you cry; but you don't tell anyone That you might not be the golden one And you're tied together with a smile But you're coming undone.”

During the short instrumental between chorus and second verse, Link took a wine class out of the hand of a woman he wasn’t familiar with, quickly sculling it down before he was due to sing once more.

“I guess it's true that love was all you wanted 'Cause you're givin' it away like it's extra change.”

As he sang, Link dug around in his skirt and jacket pockets, hoping he could find some coins but it came up dry. During to the nearest familiar face, Link kneeled by the table. “Finn, hey girl, you have any change on you I wanna do a bit wh-” he began to say, offhandedly to the other teen before turning his attention back to the music and huffing, “-ugh, fuck, forget it I’m about to miss the next part,” he mumbled, turning away.

“Hoping it will end up in his pocket But he leaves you out like a penny in the rain. Oh, 'cause it's not his price to pay It's not his price to pay.”

Walking passed Zoe and giving the blonde a sloppy kiss on the cheek and letting out an snort, Link turned back to the crowd. “One more time, motherfuckers!” he shouted, running back onto the stage and essentially scream-singing the final chorus as he slowly but surely developed into sob-singing.

“Hold on, baby; you're losing it The water's high, you're jumping into it And letting go, and no one knows That you cry; but you don't tell anyone That you might not be the golden one And you're tied together with a smile But you're coming undone.”

As the song faded out, Link let out an ugly sob, kicking the mic stand to the ground and dropping the mic with a very audible feedback. This was a low point, Link was certain nothing could be worse than this. Listening to the awkward and uncertain scattered applause, Link let out a cry of ‘fuck you, virgins!’ before heading down back towards the door, he needed a bag of Lays, a can of Sierra Mist and some hardcore cable porn, ASAP.

[scalpel-mom-mori]

Doctor Death

After the death of her mother, Akiko leaves the small town she grew up in. There was nothing to tie her down anymore. Soon, she receives an intriguing offer

Or, an Au where Kouyou is Akiko’s mom, and Akiko becomes a wandering doctor.

Setting is like if feudal Japan was a xianxia novel. Free oneshot for whoever guesses why I wrote this.

Crossposted here to AO3

Trigger warnings: Heavy gore, death, Rintarou is creepy, slight religious themes

1.

The world very may well have ended the day Akiko had to bury her mother. Sure, they’d had their differences, but, standing in front of a tiny mausoleum that would only ever house Kouyou, Akiko realized that it was more because they saw themselves in each other that they fought. They fought out of love and concern for one another.

She found herself almost angry as she carried the urn. She had nearly punched the priest, but restrained herself out of respect for her mother. There was no family besides her. She had been the one to pick her mother’s bones out of a pile of ash, she had been the one to carry the urn. She would be the only one that burnt incense at a tiny shrine.

She wasn’t sure who she was angry at. Not the priest. He hadn’t done anything really. Nothing improper anyway. Maybe a stray comment that that made Akiko snap a little harder than she needed to. Mostly, Akiko realized, she was angry at herself. And maybe her mother, a little bit. Angry with Kouyou only because she had managed to succumb to the only illness Akiko couldn’t treat. Angry because she had died and left Akiko alone in the world, the only one who would care enough to find the body.

For the first time in a long time, Akiko found herself angry at the father she never had. Someone had fathered her, in accordance with the laws of nature, but he hadn’t stuck around long enough to help Akiko say goodbye to perhaps the only person that ever cared about her for more than her job.

The number of times Akiko had ever really thought of her father could be counted on her fingers. Once, in medical school, when they’d asked. Akiko had responded with “With a mother like mine, I don’t need a man to raise me.” That had been what she’d believed. She still believed it, Akiko thought, as she placed her mother’s urn. But it would have been nice to have more than a priest pat her on the shoulder and give his formal condolences.

~

She didn’t realize what she was doing until she was almost finished. The house was a good one, but not one Akiko ever felt at home in after Kouyou had died. With a bitter laugh, she thought home is where the heart is, isn’t it? Her mother was gone. Her home, then was gone as well.

It didn’t matter anyway. She had, without realizing, been accumulating travel equipment in preparation for a trip she hadn’t planned on taking.

But, there was no reason for her to stay. There wasn’t a place Akiko had ever heard of where a doctor was unwelcome, anyway. This town could get along just fine without her.

Akiko managed to sell off all the possessions she wouldn’t be taking with her. The women in town were enthralled to finally get their hands on one of Kouyou’s gorgeous kimono. They had only ever been able to see them, and whisper their envy over the wash.

It never mattered to Akiko or Kouyou. They had known full well that they were tolerated, rather than welcome. They were strange women, far too strong-willed the townsfolk would say, for any man to have either of them. It’s a wonder there’s a daughter at all.

Akiko kept only one. She supposed she would rather wear one of her mother’s kimono than buy one when she needed one. Kouyou had always been beautiful, in Akiko’s eyes. Confident. Akiko had made it her duty as a daughter to make sure that her mother’s tastes could always be met. Most of the reason Akiko became a doctor in the first place. There was no one in the world Akiko cared for more than her mother.

There was, it would turn out, no one else in the world that cared for Kouyou.

Akiko finally sold the house for a nice price and left for Tama with her medical supplies, the necessities, a photo of her mother, a kimono, and her mother’s sword.

Akiko only said one tearful farewell in her whole life.

 2.

“The child will live,” Akiko said to the sobbing mother. “Let him rest and discourage any more of this behavior. However, I doubt he will be a great warrior. The leg may never heal properly. Part of your mistake was waiting so long. Some of the cuts are infected. That dog was probably ill.”

Akiko ignored the screams over money. She only did this for money. “I charge a reasonable price,” Akiko said coldly, measuring herbs into her mortar. “I wish you luck finding another doctor for what I’m charging you.”

When she’s done preparing the medicinal paste, she pours it into a bowl and begins packing. “Feed him rice and tea until he can feed himself. Apply the paste over the infected cuts before changing his bandages every night. Consider yourself lucky.” With that, she pockets her payment and leaves.

Perhaps she is a prickly doctor. It doesn’t much matter.

In exchange for passage to Renge, she treated members of a caravan.

~

The forest is beautiful, even at night. A river runs crystalline just outside the firelight-bathed circle of safety. Akiko takes the opportunity to bathe.

The water is cold, and runs faster than she expects, but not fast enough to put her in any real danger.

There’s hardly a splash when she jumps in, abandoning her clothes in a sloppy pile.

The cold water runs down her face when she breaks the surface again. With a toss of her head, she flicks her wet hair out of her face. She blinks. The woman sitting on the rock was most certainly not there a second ago.

She is beautiful. Not as beautiful, in Akiko’s opinion, as Kouyou had been, but it seemed to Akiko that gods tended to imitate the sort of look that mortals found beautiful. Indeed, the woman- the goddess, Akiko realized after a moment- seemed to be attempting to imitate Kouyou’s stern elegance.

“You can see me,” the goddess said, almost a question.

“So I can,” Akiko replied, sinking back into the water.

“You’ve lost someone.” This was not a question.

“Every human will lose someone,” Akiko said. “I just happened to lose the only one.”

“Not a lover.”

Akiko stamps down the urge to snort in derision. “Of course not.” No, Akiko had grown up with a woman who had been married and decided she didn’t like it. No lover would do what Kouyou’s death did to her.

The goddess peered at Akiko, almost curious. “How would a doctor like to follow the path of Izanami-no-Mikoto?”

Akiko frowned. Intriguing. “What are you suggesting?” she asked.

“My patronage. You’re a good doctor. Perhaps a great doctor. But that young man? He won’t make it without my help. No human can cure him alone.”

“What do I do in return?”

Izanami considered that. “I come above your Hippocratic Oath.”

“Naturally.”

“You will need to dissect someone. I will show you magical anatomy. I recommend at least four of each species I indicate. If sex changes the anatomy significantly, two of each.”

Akiko narrowed her eyes. “The Hippocratic Oath was taken so I could support my mother. Don’t act like I care about it, when you know I don’t.”

Izanami seemed surprised at this, before a sneer crossed her face. In that moment, Akiko decided that even if Izanami-no-Mikoto wore her mother’s body, she would never be as beautiful. “Then I trust you won’t care if you wind up in the business of assassination?”

“Did you have someone in mind?” Akiko countered. “Honestly, I expected to wind up there. Everyone trusts a doctor.”

Izanami seems satisfied at this response. “No one yet. Do as you please. I was only making sure I wasn’t dealing with a doctor that was afraid of death.”

At this, Akiko really does snort. “Only those with something to live for fear death. No doctor should be. They should, in accordance with their Hippocratic Oath, do everything within their power to save a patient, but we of all people know that we cannot save everyone.”

Izanami smiles, less coldly than before, and holds out a hand. A butterfly with opalescent wings lands in her palm. Its wings slow, changing color, before stopping. Izanami steps down off her rock and approaches Akiko over the surface of the river, holding the dead butterfly whose wings had turned to gold. Upon closer inspection, the body had turned into what appears to the bones in a human finger threaded with gold. “Keep this with you.”

The members of the caravan are slightly disgusted by the grotesque thing, but they give her a simple hairpin to attach it to. They avert their eyes when she starts wearing it in her hair. Still, they can’t complain too loudly. For treatments that would have cost them a fortune, she had only demanded safe passage to Renge.

~

Akiko’s coast side rooms were much finer than she usually preferred. But, she had long since fallen into a frugal lifestyle, and decided she could splurge a bit for the second anniversary of her mother’s death. She had hung up the kimono for a few nights to ease the folds. Today, she put it on and set her mother’s photo on the little table in the corner. After burning incense, she went out to the market to buy offerings.

The marketplace was quieter than she expected. She received a few odd looks on account of her attire, but she ignored them and gathered her purchases in a small basket.

On her way back to her room, she brushed a little too close to a middle-aged man with red hair. Red like her mother’s.

They both apologized at the same time, though there was something distinctly insincere about him, despite his kind face. The eyes, Akiko realized as he inspected her, almost as if sizing her up.

“You look like she did when she was your age,” is all he said, before bowing and vanishing into the crowd.

Akiko turned and left, refusing to let the encounter shake her. There was only one person in the world that she would think to compare herself to, but Akiko preferred to leave being beautiful to her mother.

Besides, there was no way that he could know she was Kouyou’s daughter anyway. Akiko had never really considered whether or not she resembled her mother

~

The next day she had a patient. A young man had been ill with a mysterious disease. Akiko prescribed him a medication and told him to find her again within the week if there was no improvement. It had been just like this when she had found Kouyou.

A small child with a broken arm. She had carried the child home and set the arm. It had been hardly more than a fracture, but the child had to be held down by the father and the mother and a maid before Akiko could work.

The house had felt wrong when Akiko had returned. The scent of matcha lingered in the air as it always did, but there was a horrible emptiness that Akiko hadn’t been able to place her finger on. “I’m home!” she had called, removing her shoes. Kouyou had not responded. Despite the fact that Akiko tended to be rather levelheaded, and that she rarely made excuses or rationalized, she told herself Kouyou was probably asleep. Mother has been napping a lot recently.

Each step felt heavier and heavier, and Akiko knew, even before she opened the door to her mother’s bedroom. Still, she entered quietly and knelt beside Kouyou, brushed her flaming red hair off her cool forehead. “Oka-san, I’m home.”

Even though she knew, she touched her mother’s neck, searching for a pulse she knew wasn’t there. “I’m home.”

The hollow silence, cold stillness under her fingers broke something in her soul. She had felt it a hundred times over at school, but all that death would never prepare her for the day she knew would come.

Akiko doubled over, as if she’d been punched, willing herself not to cry.

The young man wouldn’t need to speak with her unless he lost a fight.

Akiko and the man from the day before brushed past one another again on her way home. “Excuse me,” he called, and she turned. “I don’t think I caught your name yesterday?”

Akiko frowned. “Ozaki. Ozaki Akiko. Yours?” She asked more out of formality than anything.

The man shut his eyes with a smile, as if covering up a painful thought. “Of course. I would have expected nothing less from her.” He let out a short laugh. “She raised you well. My name is Rintarou.” He gave no other means of identifying him, though, in hindsight, Akiko probably shouldn’t have given him her own name like she did.

It didn’t much matter anyway. She never saw him again. She left the coast side town at the end of the week. Her patient had no need to come find her.

 3.

Izanami appeared in Akiko’s makeshift laboratory. “Does this please my lady?” Akiko jabbed as she turned the corpse on the table on its face.

Izanami only smiled. “You’ve got blood on your face.”

Akiko frowned. “I have blood on everything,” she snapped back. “What?”

Izanami looked taken aback at Akiko’s attitude. “Just thought I’d check in.”

“Why? You handed me a dead butterfly two years ago then disappeared.”

Izanami shrugged. “So I did. I’m really just using you for research.”

Akiko scowled, flipping the body back over so she could begin cutting it open. “You should have just said that. I would have been less suspicious.”

“Less suspicious?”

“I trust higher beings more when they’re not pretending they care about us humans,” Akiko explained, cutting the usual three-cut opening in the front of the torso.

Akiko tore out the sternum, an unusually effective bit of armor in this particular creature, with her bare hands and the unpleasant sound of cracking bones and tearing cartilage. Most of the blood sat in buckets off to the side of the room. Still, her hands came away bloodier than she would have liked.

Pair by pair, she forced the ribcage open, to allow her more room to remove the heart and lungs and diaphragm.

Izanami watched silently. Akiko wondered momentarily if she was amused or disturbed. She shook off that thought and continued with her dissection.

With a scowl, she turned over the heart in her hands. The only difference the coloring. Slightly more blue than a human’s. Bloodier, too. But it was difficult to dissect anything besides humans in a formal institution, and it would raise too many question. ns if she brought her own specimen.

Conclusion: better reinforced than the average human. Slightly taller. Stronger bones, adapted to be slightly better with protecting the organs. Otherwise roughly the same.

Akiko picked up the corpse and carried it to pyre outside. The buckets of dissected organs went next the stomach acid had already eaten away at the underbrush in a nice, wide circle. Akiko lit the corpse

Izanami seemed amused as Akiko stripped off her bloody clothes and slid into the water.

“You’ve made quite the reputation for yourself.”

Akiko glared at her over the surface of the water. “Thanks to you,” she bit sarcastically. “Why are you here?”

Izanami shrugged. “Only to suggest sticking around for next week’s cultural festival.”

[lastbluetardis]

And Baby Makes Seven (4/?)

Things don’t always go as planned. Faced with an unexpected pregnancy, James and Rose have to work quickly to get everything prepared for their fifth child, and to prepare their eldest children for a new addition to the family. Ten x Rose AU, Soulmates AU. Tagging @doctorroseprompts

This chapter: Explicit, 6100 words

Ages of the Tyler-McCrimmons at the start of the chapter: James: 39, Rose: 34, Ainsley: 9, Sianin: 6, Twins: almost 6 months

If you like reading my stories, consider leaving me a tip? Or leave a reply on this post to tell me what you thought? And as always, reblogs are very much appreciated so more people can see this.

AO3 | Perfectly Matched Series

Ch1 | Ch2 | Ch3 |

The rest of the summer holiday passed by lazily. While Ainsley was counting down the days until the new school term began, Sianin seemed to ignore it in the hopes it wouldn’t come. But, inevitably, the first day of school dawned, sunny and hot.

Waking Sianin up was as delightful as ever, as she tried to hide away from James’s poking fingers by pulling her blankets up over her head. He knew she would’ve stay like that for long, since it would be far to stuffy in there, especially since the morning was already warm, making the air in the house stagnant.

As predicted, she flung her blankets off of her head with a loud whine mere seconds later, then dutifully trudged out of bed to get ready for school. Ainsley was already half way through her bowl of cereal by the time Sianin joined them.

She’d dressed herself in her school uniform but hadn’t tucked in the shirt. James mindlessly did it for her, but noticed she’d untucked it again five minutes later.

“Don’t touch,” he said as he tucked her shirt in for a second time.

But she kept fidgeting with her uniform all throughout breakfast, untucking her shirt from her skirt and driving James and Rose mad.

“It’s pulling,” Sianin complained when James fixed her outfit yet again.

“What do you mean, darling?” he asked.

Sianin lifted her arms above her head. “See? Pulling.”

It took James a long minute to understand what she meant. Her shirt strained around her middle as she lifted her arms in the air.

“We’ll get you a bigger shirt,” he promised.

“It’s too tight, Daddy,” she whimpered. “I’m not comfortable! I don’t like the way it feels.”

“Can you be a brave girl and wear it for today?” he asked. “I promise Mummy and I will get you a new shirt in time for tomorrow’s school day.”

After a bit more moaning and grumbling, Sianin reluctantly agreed, though she kept fidgeting with her clothes all morning.

“Want to take bets on whether Sianin comes home with a warning for not having her shirt tucked in, or being obstinate about tucking it back in?”

“Not taking that bet,” Rose muttered under her breath. “I thought we checked their uniforms last week.”

“We did,” James answered. “But I suppose there’s a difference between saying something is comfortable in the two seconds it takes it try it on, versus it actually being comfortable when confronted with wearing it all day.”

Rose pinched his side. “Guess I’ll be off on a shopping trip this morning.”

After the traditional first day of school photoshoot, James loaded his eldest girls into one vehicle while Rose loaded the twins into the other. She kissed Ainsley and Sianin goodbye and wished them well before she went off on her errands for the day.

Since the school drop off queue was always pandemonium on the first day, James parked a couple blocks away at a coffee shop and walked with his girls to the school. When they reached the building, he knelt down to give them each a hug and a kiss.

“Have a great day. I’ll see you this evening. I love you very, very much.”

He then stood and watched his children walk away from him and towards their various friend groups. William was perched on the short brick wall surrounding the garden in front of the school; his entire face lit up when he saw Ainsley. He jumped off the wall and ran to give her a big hug, then, together, they skipped into the school, leaving Sianin behind.

James was slightly annoyed at his eldest for so quickly abandoning her little sister, but Sianin eventually caught up with a group of her friends. No hugs were exchanged, but Sianin beamed brightly at them and began to follow them inside. She turned around at the doorway and scanned the crowd. He lifted his hand in a wave, and she smiled, waving back at him before she disappeared into the building.

Yet another round of first days, done, he lamented to himself. How were his girls getting so big? 

As he walked back to his car, James grabbed his phone from his pocket. “I’m getting coffee before coming in. Can I get you something?”

He shot off the text in two individual messages to his work mates, Mark and River. They were two of his only mates at the university, ever since he had gotten into a major row with one of his other colleagues, Rodney. James had taken to avoiding Rodney and any friends of Rodney, which unfortunately turned out to be most of the department. Not that anybody else was treating him poorly or avoiding him, but James couldn’t help but feel like they were silently judging him, and had been for a long time. It made it hard to fake cordiality and friendship.

The buzzing of his phone interrupted his maudlin thoughts.

Nah, mate, I’m good. The missus and I had breakfast out with the kids before school, Mark responded. Thanks though.

River didn’t reply until James was nearly at the front register about to order. Large black coffee please. Leave room for cream but don’t add any. And a scone. Surprise me with the flavor ;)

He sent back a thumbs up and slipped his phone into his pocket as he stepped up to the counter. He placed his order, and five minutes later, he left the coffee shop with two coffees and a blueberry scone.

River worked in the anthropology department, which was on the other side of the university campus. The sun was already shining down hotly, despite the early morning hour, and so he parked in a temporary spot to run River’s breakfast to her.

“Good morning, Professor McCrimmon,” River purred when he stepped into her office.

“Good morning, Professor Song,” he parroted. He held up her coffee and the paper bag with her scone. “Your order.”

“Oh, you’re a gem,” she said, reaching to take the coffee. She turned away from him to open the mini-fridge in the corner of her office. It was packed with half a dozen different bottles of flavored coffee creamer. “I think I’m feeling French Vanilla today.”

James shrugged, not particularly fond of flavored creams. They were far too sweet.

“School drop off went well?” River asked as she poured the cream until the coffee was a light tan color.

He tugged his phone from his back pocket and pulled up the quick photo he’d snapped of Ainsley and Sianin.

“Sianin waited until this morning to tell us her school shirt was getting a bit small,” James said, handing his phone to River, “but otherwise, yeah.”

River glanced at the photo before handing it back to him. “She’s nearly as big as her sister.”

“Ainsley’s small for her age. In the first percentile, if I remember correctly,” James explained. “She and Sianin can nearly share clothes. It won’t be too much longer now before they can.”

River made a humming noise then turned to her scone. She opened the packaging and took a large bite.

“Well, I’d best be off,” James said, scratching the back of his head. “Want to do lunch this afternoon?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” River said, grinning.

James beamed, relieved that he wouldn’t be eating lunch alone that day. “Great. I have a class that ends right at noon, so we can meet then? If that works?”

“I’ll meet you in your office,” River said. “I’ve got a meeting on your side of campus at one anyway.”

“It’s a plan. Until then.” He gave a dramatic bow and backed out of the office to get to his own building.

oOoOo

The first week back at school was always exhausting as everybody readjusted to the schooltime routine. While James and Rose tried to keep their kids in a routine over the summer, they never quite managed. Sianin preferred to sleep an hour extra during the summers, and Ainsley, though she loved school, wasn’t always a fan of being around large groups of people and often shut herself in her room as soon as she got home.

But finally Friday arrived, heralding the first successful week of school. As was tradition, James and Rose planned a date night with their kids. Though this year, they had to account for the twins. Thankfully, Robert was more than happy to take the babies overnight.

They made homemade chips and personal pizzas so everyone could have their toppings of choice, and he and Rose broke out the wine. With the twins gone for the night and mostly weaned from breast milk, Rose no longer had to worry as much about alcohol consumption for the first time in over a year.

Once everyone was fed, James pulled down half a dozen board game boxes, letting family game night commence. They played through seemingly every board game they owned, as well as a few card games. For some of the more complex games, such as Cluedo, Sianin partnered up with Ainsley to play against their parents.

And all the while, James kept his and Rose’s wine glasses filled until they’d had to break open a second bottle of wine.

“It’s so nice to not have the twins here,” Rose murmured, her words slurred slightly as she leaned against James to take a look at the cards he held in his hand. “I can drink and drink and drink, guilt free!”

“Oi, cheater,” James said, pushing his shoulder against her and hiding his cards against his chest.

Rose giggled and snuggled closer to him. She tilted her head up until her lips were at his ear. The sensation of her warm breath tickling across his ear sent shivers down his spine. 

“I think I’m a liiiiittle bit tipsy,” Rose whispered.

“Maybe a bit,” James agreed. “But in your defense, you haven’t drunk much in over a year now. Your tolerance has gone to shit.”

“Daddy, your turn,” Sianin said, laying a card in the discard pile.

“Thanks, darling,” he said, returning his attention to their game of Uno.

They stayed up well past the kids’ bedtime, enjoying themselves far too much to bring an end to the night. However, when both kids were nearly falling asleep against each other in yet another round of Uno, James and Rose decided to put an end to the evening.

“Let’s call it a night,” James suggested, blinking against his slightly-swimming vision. He and Rose had polished off half of their second bottle of wine, and the room was a little unsteady.

“M’kay,” Ainsley agreed, her eyes a bit heavy.

“Do I hafta get a shower?” Sianin mumbled, rubbing her fists into her eyes.

“Nah,” James answered, glancing at Rose to make sure she approved. “Get one in the morning, though.”

“M’kay.” She heaved a sigh and nestled closer to Ainsley, not making a move to stand.

James couldn’t exactly blame her. He was comfortable where he was, leaning against the front of the couch with his arm around his wife and her familiar heat seeping through his clothes.

It took several attempts to scramble to his knees and then to his feet without falling over. Though he’d teased Rose for her alcohol tolerance going to shit, his had gone to shit right alongside hers; without his favorite drinking partner, he rarely had more than one or two drinks at a time.

“C’mon,” James said once he’d managed to stand. “Time for bed. Up, Sianin.”

She lifted her arms, as though expecting to be picked up.

“Sorry, darling,” James said, grimacing. “Daddy had a tiny bit too much wine to carry you safely.  I don’t want to drop you, eh?”

She huffed a sigh, and slowly pushed herself to her feet. With how much she swerved and stumbled down the hall, James would’ve thought she was a tad drunk too.

“Nighty night Mum. Night Dad.” Ainsley stepped up to him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Sweet dreams,” he said, pecking a clumsy kiss to her the crown of her head. “Love you loads. I’ll be in to tuck you in when I’ve finished with Sianin.”

She hummed in acknowledgement and moved down the hall. James followed, stepping into Sianin’s room to wait for her to finish her nightly routine.

She had stripped out of her clothes and was in a baggy t-shirt he recognized as one of Rose’s in lieu of pajamas.

“I don’t want a story tonight,” Sianin said, curling up in bed and tugging her blankets to her chest.

He wasn’t going to insist. He wasn’t sure his eyes could focus on reading a book to her. “Okay. Just for tonight, though. Goodnight, Sianin. I love you very, very much.”

She grunted and tilted her head up to accept his kiss before nuzzling into her pillow and promptly falling asleep.

He left her room and shuffled across the hall to Ainsley’s room. The light was still on. He knocked and pushed open the door in the same second; however, a yelp halted his movements.

“Dad! Wait!”

The door slammed in his face and he cringed, his face heating. “Ainsley, I’m sorry, darling.”

“I was changing!”

“I’m sorry,” he said again, raking his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean to barge in.”

She said nothing, but thirty seconds later, she opened the door for him. She was scowling up at him, her arms crossed at her chest. “What’s the point in knocking if you’re going to just come in anyway?”

“You’re exactly right,” James said patiently. “I am very, very sorry. I promise I’ll wait in the future. I’m sorry.”

She relaxed a fraction. “I was already mostly dressed anyway. Not sure you even saw anything. Sorry for snapping. It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“Yes, it is,” he said firmly. “This is your room, your space. I want to respect that as much as I can, including respecting a closed door.”

She flashed him a small smile. “Thanks.”

“Right, into bed with you.”

She pulled down the covers and slipped onto the mattress. He leaned down and brushed her hair away from her face before planting a kiss to her forehead.

She wrinkled her nose. “Your breath stinks.”

“Gee, thanks, Ains,” he said dryly, flicking her nose lightly.

“Just saying,” she replied sweetly, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Love you, Dad.”

“I love you too. Nighty night. Sweet dreams.”

He fussed with her blankets for a moment longer before he straightened and left the room, flipping the lights off as he did.

When he returned to the living room, Rose was sprawled across the sofa, shirtless, a half-empty bottle of wine in her fist. She drank directly from it and beamed when she saw him.

“Hey handsome,” she purred. She wiggled the bottle in his direction. “Wanna help me finish it. I’ve lost the cork so we ought to drink it so it doesn’t go to waste.”

“Is that right?” he drawled.

“Mhm,” she said, taking another swig.

Never mind the fact that they had plenty of wine stoppers, James plopped onto the couch beside his wife and took the proffered bottle.

“As lovely as you are, where’s your shirt?”

She gestured vaguely to the floor. “Somewhere over there.”

He glanced around and saw a ball of fabric in the middle of their living room floor. “And why is your shirt somewhere over there?”

“I was hot,” she complained.

And she looked it: her face was bright red and shiny. Now that she said something, he realized how hot their living room was. His cheeks seemed to radiate heat, sending it down his neck and into is chest until his shirt felt sweltering. Wordlessly, he passed the wine back to her and leaned forward just far enough to strip his shirt over his head and drop it to the floor by their feet.

“Mmm… you look even hotter now,” Rose murmured, her half-glazed eyes scanning across his bare torso. “Gettin’ me all hot and bothered.”

He hummed and puffed up his chest a little bit as he took the bottle from her and took a long gulp.

“My turn,” she said, turning into his side to grab the bottle from him. She glugged down several swallows, nearly choking on a snort as he whisper-chanted, “Chug chug chug chug…”

She was slightly out of breath when she handed the bottle to him. As though it were a big secret, she confided, “I… I am prop… proly… prop’ly wasted.”

“Me too,” he hummed, his body delightfully buoyant. His head was spinning and he wasn’t entirely sure he’d be able to get up and walk to their bedroom without tripping and falling flat on his face.

“I am so in love with you,” Rose said, grinning lazily up at him. “So in love.”

“Me too,” he repeated.

“Your elo… equlo… eloque… your way with words is… is astounding,” she teased, pinching his waist and draping herself into his side.

“What’d’you expect? The most beautiful woman in the universe is half-naked and half in my lap,” he said.

“Hmmm… do you want the most beat’ful woman in the universe fully naked and fully in your lap?”

The heat thrumming through James’s veins suddenly concentrated in his groin. He had barely begun to nod when Rose was shimmying out of her trousers. They were soft, stretchy yoga trousers, so she didn’t need to fumble with a button or zipper, but she still struggled to coordinate her limbs enough to tug them down her legs.

“M’pretty sure m’legs used t’be shorter,” she grumbled as her ankles got stuck.

He reached over and helped. Well, he grabbed a handful of fabric and began yanking. Eventually, her trousers fell to the floor, leaving her in her bra and a pair of white cotton knickers.

She frowned down at them. “Didn’t expect you’d see these. Sorry.”

“They’re very sexy,” he assured. She turned her frown on him. “They are! Primarily b’cos the sexiest woman in the universe is wearing them. You make your clothes sexy, Rose. Not th’other way ‘round.”

“How are you able to talk so smoothly?” Rose demanded. “Words feel… feel… they feel… far away.”

“Oh, you know me. Gob always going. I think words are basically ingrained in m’brain and come out whether I want them to or not, so I’m just going on autopilot now, love. Doesn’t matter. We were in the middle of something. Wasn’t I about to have the most beautiful woman in the world fully naked and fully in my lap?”

“Hmmm. You’ve got too many clothes.” Rose tugged on the waistband of his jeans. “S’no fun being naked when my naked partner isn’t naked.”

“You make a compelling argument,” James replied, and he pushed himself off of the couch to stand on wobbly legs.

He hadn’t realized how heavily Rose had been leaning on him, though. She yelped and fell sideways onto the sofa, where she dissolved into hysterical laughter. He joined in, especially when he nearly tumbled to his arse as he shucked off his trousers.

“Ta-da!” he crowed when he was left in nothing but his boxer-briefs.

Rose beamed up at him, her face bright red. She squirmed around for a minute, then managed to haul herself up onto an elbow, bringing her face to crotch-level. James was painfully aware of all the blood that was throbbing between his legs; he looked down to see he had half a stiffie tenting the front of his pants.

“Well hello,” Rose purred to his crotch, covering his erection with her palm.

He sighed and tipped his head back as gentle warmth and pleasure rolled through him. Rose then carefully tugged the waistband of his boxer-briefs down just far enough to free his cock. Without warning, she slotted her mouth over him. His hips jolted forward and he nearly stumbled on top of her. She let out a small gag, recoiling, and he took a hurried step back.

“Sorry! God, I’m sorry!” he squeaked, panting, but she was laughing.

“What a news story that would make,” she said, eyes bright with mirth. “‘Local woman chokes to death in drunken attempt at a blow job’.”

James giggled in return. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.” He paused, his cheeks flaming as he stuttered, “Can… can we try again?”

“Do you want your cock in my mouth?” she asked, blinking up at him through lowered lashes.

The blood fell out of his cheeks and back into his cock. “Yes please.”

He was ready this time when Rose leaned forward and took him into her mouth. He groaned softly as he was surrounded by heat and wet. Pleasure fizzed through him, mounting so quickly he was worried about popping off in her mouth within the next few seconds; it would be doubly embarrassing because he wasn’t even fully hard yet. But the intensity receded slightly after a moment, and he began to worry a bit less about coming prematurely.

“Love you,” he whispered, threading his fingers through her hair. He didn’t try to guide her motions or speed her up, he simply wanted to touch her. And he needed a bit of help to keep his balance.

After another minute, she pulled off of him and smiled apologetically. “Sorry. My neck’s getting a bit cramped.”

“S’okay,” he said. “My legs are a bit wobbly and I’m pretty sure I’d fall on you if you made me come.”

“Were you close?” she asked.

“A little,” he admitted.

“Me too,” she answered cheekily. It was then that he realized she’d had one of her hands down her knickers. The sight made his cock throb.

“Allow me. Get on your back.”

Her eyes darkened at the command, but she complied. Her hand was still down her pants, moving in lazy circles.

“I want to see.” That was the only warning he gave before he grabbed at the waistband of her knickers and began tugging them down her legs.

He was sure there was a trick to this—he knew he’d done this thousands of times before—but his movements were jagged and her knickers kept getting caught on unseen barriers. He grumbled and growled, but finally her knickers were on the floor, leaving her gloriously naked.

She had helped him remove her knickers as much as she could, but now her hands had wandered down between her legs once more. She was glistening with desire, and his stomach tightened in anticipation.

“Let me see you,” he said, his voice gruff.

“Gimme your shirt,” Rose said. He furrowed his brow. “Shirt… pants… something to put under me. Don’ want awkward stains on th’sofa.”

“Oh. Right. Yeah.”

He pawed on the carpet for both of their shirts—just to be safe—and he deftly slid them beneath her bum when she angled her hips up.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he said, fumbling out of his own underwear. “So gorgeous.”

She beamed at him, but her face loosened as her fingers disappeared between her legs. She moaned softly as she stroked herself, her movements slow and lazy as though they had all the time in the world.

He loved when they did this. He loved watching her pleasure herself. He knelt on the sofa cushion beside her and stroked his erection, trying to savor this moment as long as he could. Her skin was flushed red from arousal and alcohol, and her breathing was shortening as her fingers sped up.

“I’m so close, James,” she sighed, head lolling back in pleasure. “Feels so good.”

He cursed under his breath as his stomach dropped in warning. “Me too.”

“Get inside me,” she ordered suddenly. “Now.”

He groaned at the need in her voice, echoing the need in his body. He crawled on top of her, settling himself between her hips. He choked down a cry when she took him in her hand, her fingers slick with her own moisture. She rubbed the tip of him against herself and hissed out a low string of curses.

“Rose,” he panted, his whole body shuddering with impending release. “Rose, I'm gonna come. I’m really gonna…”

“Not yet,” she pleaded, arching her hips to try and get him lined up.

Her fingers were stroking him as she tried and failed again and again to get the angle right. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to think of anything except the feel of her and of the mounting, overwhelming pleasure thrumming through him.

“Rose,” he grunted in warning as the pressure at his spine flared hot. “I’m seriously going to come. D’you want it like this or…?”

“No, I want you in me but you aren’t fitting,” she whined, frustrated. “You always fit!”

“Allow me.” He batted her hand away from his cock. He throbbed in time with his heart, a steady, pulsing beat that promised so much relief and pleasure that he nearly said sod it and stroked himself to completion.

But he also wanted to be inside his wife. He wanted to satisfy her, and her desire for him to be in her. Squeezing the base of his cock to try to stave off his imminent orgasm, he lined himself up, shuddering as her wet heat teased him. He had seconds, maybe, before he’d be past the point of no return. He could feel it swelling deep within him.

“I’m not going to last once I’m in you,” he warned.

“Me either,” Rose said, her fingers circling her clit now that his cock was no longer rubbing it. “James, in!”

God, she was tight. Her muscles were already clenching in preparation, and he growled deep in his throat as he finally pushed into her. She let out a cry that was probably far too loud but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because he was inside of his wife and she was so hot and wet and she was shattering around him, pulling him into her. Her muscles pulsed and throbbed around him as she gripped his arse, her nails biting into his sensitive flesh.

She moaned into his ear, wordless sounds that he wanted to echo, wanted to feel. The sensation of her breath in his ear sent searing goosebumps across his skin and finally pushed him over the edge.

“Oh, fuck,” he croaked, his hips stuttering as he chased his own high. “I’m gonna… I need to… Rose, I’m gonna…”

Words failed him as he squeezed his eyes shut. He was right on the cusp, right on the edge of heat and pressure and infinity. She breathed his name and squeezed his arse, and that was all it took. The electric thrum at the base of his spine sparked and he thrust deeply into her with a garbled shout of relief.

Everything was hot and wet and pulsing, friction and slipping and sliding, as time lost all meaning. His world narrowed to him and Rose and the place they were joined and the rush of endorphins flooding his body.

“God,” he gritted out, his orgasm raging through him. Body trembling, his coordination abandoned him; he collapsed onto Rose.

Panting raggedly, he tucked his face into her neck and prayed that none of their children would leave their room for the next few minutes, because he didn’t think he would be able to move from where he was to grab a blanket or something to cover up with. He was utterly sated, drowsy, and boneless, and the thought of moving was abhorrent.

“I love you,” he rasped, wriggling his arms under Rose’s shoulders to hold her closer. He felt as though he couldn’t hold her tightly enough. “God, I love you. I love you.”

Silence greeted him, and he frowned. Why wasn’t Rose talking to him? She always talked to him after a round of fantastic sex. And for that matter, why wasn’t she hugging him back? Her hands were lying limply on the small of his back.

“Rose, love?” He forced himself to pull back. Rose’s eyes were closed; she was asleep.

He chuckled under his breath, choosing not to be offended. Instead, he was rather pleased that he had worn her out so thoroughly. (He willfully ignored the fact that she tended to be a sleepy drunk).

But ss beautiful and serene as she looked, this was not an appropriate place for them to fall asleep, especially in their current state.

“Rose,” he said, caressing her cheek. “Rooooose.”

He lifted himself off of her, slipping out of her. Her nose wrinkled and her eyes cracked open. She blinked blearily a few times, then grinned up at him. “That was so fun.”

“Indeed it was,” he agreed.

“D’you come?”

He laughed out loud. “Yes, I did. Quite intensely. You didn’t notice? You can’t… you can’t feel the… ehm, evidence?”

“Can’t feel much of anything,” Rose responded with a shrug. “My whole body feels hot and tingly. My lady bits feel so good, James.”

“I’m glad.”

“C’mere,” she said, closing her eyes and reaching blindly for his arm. She tugged weakly, and whined when he didn’t lie down with her.

“We have to go to bed,” he said, kissing the corner of her mouth.

“M’trying, but you’re being stubborn,” she said, continuing to yank on his arm.

“Rose, we’re naked on our couch. We’re very drunk and therefore probably going to sleep like a rock. D’you really want Ainsley and Sianin to catch us in the morning like this?”

“Stop being so log...lolgic… so smart,” she said, attempting to flick him but missing.

“You’ll thank me in the morning,” he said. “Come.”

“Already did,” she said sweetly, sticking her tongue out at him.

He rolled his eyes. “Come to bed.”

“Oooh, can we do it again?” Rose asked, glancing up at him with dark eyes.

“If you don’t pass out on me first,” he said, even though he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get hard again for another round of lovemaking. His body felt limp and exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to curl up with the love of his life and never move again.

She blew a raspberry at him, but she squirmed around on the couch until she had enough leverage to sit up. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched at the couch cushions.

“All right?” he asked.

“Room went all wibbly wobbly.”

He nodded, and waited for her to stop looking like she was going to collapse back against the couch.

“I drank too much,” Rose sighed.

“So did I,” he said. “It was fun though, wasn’t it?”

“Mhm. I think I need help walking,” she confessed.

“Okay, up we get,” he said, getting to his feet. He wasn’t much steadier than she was, and he nearly lost his balance trying to pull her to her feet. She swayed, but stayed standing. “I’m gonna gather our clothes.”

“No, I don’t want clothes,” she said, grimacing. “S’too hot.”

“I’m picking them up so Ainsley and Sianin won’t see them,” he said. “Don’t need them knowing what their mum and dad got up to after they went to bed.”

“They prob’ly heard us,” Rose said.

“I was trying not to think of that, thanks,” he said dryly.

He had accepted the fact that Ainsley and Sianin often overheard their lovemaking, no matter how quiet they tried to be—though they were far from quiet this time, to his embarrassment. But it didn’t make it any less awkward to know that his children knew whenever he and Rose had sex. He hoped it didn’t disgust them too much.

“Do you think we have too much sex?” he asked, balling up their discarded clothes in one arm and wrapping his other around Rose.

“There’s no such thing, is there?”

He shrugged.

“Ja-aaaames.” Rose poked his temple. “What’s goin’ on in your brain?” She poked his temple again. “I love your brain but sometimes it’s stupid.”

He swatted her hand away before she accidentally hit his eye.

“I dunno. I guess I was just wondering if we were being inappropriate.” The words felt silly as soon as they left his mouth.

Rose stopped and turned so suddenly that it nearly sent them sprawling to the floor.

“We’re both consenting adults,” she said, frowning up at him.

“I know,” he said.

“We’ve been shaggin’ for… er…” Rose’s mouth moved silently as she ticked off her fingers. “Sixteen years. I think. Something like that. A lot of years. We’ve been shagging for a long time.”

“I know.”

“And we love each other. A lot. Hence all the shagging.”

“I know.”

Rose frowned. “So… what’s the problem?”

“Don’t people’s sex drives usually decline as they get older?” he asked. “Especially once kids come around?”

“Are you… what are you saying? Do you not want to have sex with me?”

“No! I mean, yes. Of course I want to have sex with you.”

“S’okay if you don’t. It’d make me really sad but I’d do it for you—or, rather, not do it with you—‘cos I love you a lot.”

“Rose, I love having sex with you,” he said, wishing he’d never brought this conversation up in the first place.

“And I love having sex with you,” she said, still frowning. “M’really confused. I think we are both way too drunk to be having this conversation. At least I’m way too drunk. I don’t even understand what you’re freaking out about.”

“I’m not freaking out,” he muttered petulantly. At her raised eyebrow, he admitted, “I think it’s because I’m drunk that I’m worrying about this.”

Finally, her frown softened and she turned into him. She looped her arms around his shoulders and hauled him down for a clumsy kiss. The kiss was far too short for his liking, but it felt nice nevertheless. When she pulled back, she said, “Stop thinking so hard. We have fantastic sex, so why should we ever stop? Eh? Getting laid every week is amazing. I highly recommend it to everyone.”

He giggled and he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Oh, I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you, too. Don’t worry about normal, James. We’re not normal and we’ve never been normal. We have loads of sex which has made loads of babies, whom we love so very much that it makes you an excellent father which in turn makes me even hornier for you, which makes us have loads more sex.”

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he snorted, smiling fondly at her. “But you forgot one key piece: seeing you being an excellent mum to our girls makes me hot and bothered for you, too.”

“It does?” she asked, blinking.

He rolled his eyes. “Yes.”

“What…? Why?”

“Why do you get hot and bothered whenever you see me being a good dad?”

“I dunno.”

“Same here. There’s probably some sort of biological or evolutionary answer that my drunk brain can’t quite come up with. Wanting to create offspring with a partner who will raise the young or something.”

“You get so fucking sexy when you talk science,” she said, staring at his mouth.

“I’m pretty sure that’s the wine talking,” he said, giving her waist a squeeze. “Come on. Let’s clean up and go to bed.”

After a bit of half-hearted grumbling, Rose followed James down the hall. They took turns in the loo cleaning up and brushing their teeth. James had the forethought to set glasses of water on each of their nightstands to try to combat the hangover they were sure to have when they woke up.

His body was heavy and numb when he collapsed into bed beside Rose. She draped herself across him and whispered, “You said we could do it again.”

The grin in her voice told him she wasn’t serious, but he poked her ribs anyway. She giggled into the darkness and tucked her face into his neck, sighing. “You’re a really great shag.”

“So are you,” he replied, words getting fuzzier in his head as his eyes refused to open. “The best shag in the world. Best soulmate in the world, too.”

“You’re such a sappy drunk,” she hummed, kissing the shell of his ear. “I like it.”

His retort died on his tongue as consciousness finally slipped away from him and he fell into a deep and dreamless sleep.

When James and Rose awoke the following morning, it was with the anticipated headache—made worse by the sounds of two over-exuberant children—and only vague impressions of what had happened the night before.