#sipping a shirley temple right now and it is delightful

[adaine-party-wizard]

hey quick question

please let me know which answer and where you’re from. i always made them with ginger ale, oj, and grenadine but going to restaurants other places aside from where i grew up they didn’t have orange juice and it made me sad, so i’m genuinely curious!

[chvrrycola]

STRAY KIDS X CLICHE MEETCUTES - HAN JISUNG

word count | 0.8k

warnings | some swearing, implied violence but it's not explicit, reader being pursued by a gross guy, mentions of alcohol and drunkenness generally

now playing . . . delight by key

AN // sorry for going awol, i'm finally back to finish this series <3

the other meetcutes

clubbing had never been your favourite thing, but you didn’t want to be the spoilsport who vetoed it for your friend’s birthday, so you had agreed to it for once. after borrowing an outfit from another friend and convincing everyone that you really didn’t mind being the designated driver, you felt like the night would probably go as well as it could.

the club was still relatively empty when you arrived, but it started to fill up as soon as the time ticked past ten. you stayed seated at your table, mostly on your own, perfectly happy to watch your friends’ phones while they danced. 

dancing with your friends was by far your favourite thing about coming out with them, but you still didn’t fancy getting up for every song, so you stayed sitting, sipping slowly at your shirley temple and occasionally taking photos of your friends when they stumbled into view. 

you were looking at your phone when you felt somebody’s weight on the seat next to you, and you were about to start asking your friend why they had come over in the middle of the song when you realised that this guy was not somebody you’d arrived at the club with. 

it was a surprise that the smell of beer hadn’t gotten your attention right away, because as soon as you raised your head it suffocated you, making you cough. he probably wasn’t much older than you, but his trashy suit and over gelled hair gave him the vibe of somebody who definitely shouldn’t be trying to chat up somebody your age. 

he didn’t acknowledge your eyes on him, didn’t acknowledge you at all as he shuffled down the seat towards you, laying his arm across the back of the booth and placing a hand on your shoulder. you tried to suppress the physical urge to shudder as the man’s grip tightened. he turned you slightly to face him, starting to speak to you though you couldn’t make out his words. 

your head started to spin. your gaze fell on the people crowding the dance floor, but you couldn’t make out any of your friends. your eyes darted from face to face, trying to make eye contact with anybody you might accept your silent plea for help. 

the first person to notice you was a guy, trying to keep the drink in each of his hands from spilling as he weaved through the crowd. his eyes scanned over the booths, but he apparently forgot all about whoever the second drink was supposed to be for when he saw you, eyes widening as he caught the fear in yours. 

he sped over to where you were sitting, putting the drinks down before knocking on the table to get the attention of the man now kissing and breathing down your neck. 

‘who the fuck are you, dracula? get off their neck!’ the man standing in front of your table said when the older guy ignored the sound.

‘take a hint dude,’ he scoffed back, trying to pull you towards his chest as though it would make him look somehow less creepy.

‘not to be presumptuous, dude, but i’d imagine your friend there would rather be accompanied by someone not born in the stone age.’ 

you suppressed a chuckle, knowing it certainly wouldn’t help the situation, and tried again to wriggle free from the grasp on your shoulder, loosened from the guy’s apparent surprise.

he tried to haul you back towards him when he noticed your movement, but the guy across the table had already grabbed his other arm, managing to stall him long enough for you to run and try to find security. 

you didn’t have to go far; there was a guard already being led to your booth by a guy who introduced himself as the friend of jisung’s, immediately clarifying that jisung was the guy who had helped you upon noticing your blank expression.

you hid behind the guard as he approached the booth you had been sitting at, with the guy still in your seat, now rubbing at his jaw with the palm of his hand. your friends flocked over to you once they noticed the commotion, asking what had happened and apologising for not being there.

jisung had gone back to sit at the table next to yours with his friend, and you decided to go over and thank him for helping you out.

he was clutching his knuckles when you approached but dropped his hand as soon as he saw you, insisting he was fine as soon as he spotted your worried expression. your gratitude began spilling from your lips almost immediately, ultimately punctuated by a babbled offer to buy him his next drink. 

‘ah it’s nothing honestly, he was being a creep, it’s the least i could do.’ he resumed wringing his hands, the light of a smile dancing behind his eyes as he looked back up at you, ‘not that i’m saying no to the drink of course.’

[its--fandom--darling]

The Princess and her Parents

Pairing: Dad!Chris Evans x Reader

Prompt: Fairytale

Rating: Slightly angsty, parenting woes and then fluff

“I hate this!” your daughter cried, stomping her foot before she turned to run off towards her bedroom.

You shake your head and turn to sink into husbands arms. “What are we gonna do?” you ask, softly.

              He rubs your back in soothing circles. “I don’t know but why don’t we let her have some time to cool down before we check on her again.”

You nod against his chest, tears drying on your cheeks.

              “Hey, don’t take it personally, baby, she’s upset,” Chris says, kissing your head.

You sniffle, “I just hate seeing our little girl so upset. It makes me feel helpless, I just want her to be happy.”

              “I know, (y/n/n), I know. But that’s just not how life goes,” he says, softly.

You heave a sigh and step away from him. “I know, it’s just that she’s our little girl.”

              He sighs and nods, “I know. Come on, lets have a drink and let her cool down, then I’ll go talk to her if you want me too.”

“Okay, thank you, baby.”

              He smiles, “my pleasure. Now would you like a rum and coke?”

You sigh, “yes, please.”

              “On it,” he says, heading into the kitchen.

You sit on the couch heavily, sinking into the plush cushions and rubbing a hand down your face.

              Chris comes back humming with two tall glasses and hands you one.

You cheers him and take a big sip, hissing slightly at the burn.

“Sorry, I made them strong, figured that we’d need the kick.”

“It’s fine, but a warning would have been nice,” you say with a smirk.

              He chuckles, “Sorry.”

The two of you finish your drinks.

              “Ready to face the dragon in the princess dress.”

You nod, “Only if you’re with me.”

              He takes your hand and squeezes it tightly. “I’m always with you.”

“Right, okay, here we go.”          

              Chris nods and raises his free hand to knock the door. “Belle? Can mommy and daddy come in?”

No reply comes so he opens the door, slowly. “Babygirl? Is everything okay?”

              You sweet little one is laying facedown on the bed, clinging to her unicorn stuffy.

You lick your lips, let go of Chris’ hand and sit down gently on the bed. “Honey, can you tell us what has you so upset.”

              She sits up and pushes her curls out of her face. “I hate that my birthday is on Halloween.”

You sigh, “Oh sweetie.”

              “My friends always want to dress up in scary costumes and I don’t like,” she says, getting upset again.      

              Chris joins you on Belle’s bed and pulls your daughter onto his knee. “Sweet girl, calm down, we can throw you a party before or after Halloween. We can do it however you like. Mommy and I will make it happen okay?”

              Her bottom lip quivers slightly and she launches herself at him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

You rub her back and share a look with Chris as she cries in relief.

              “Do you wanna talk about your party tonight or are you too upset?” Chris asks, softly.

              She pulls away from him and shakes her head. “No! I wanna talk about it tonight!”

You chuckle, smiling at your daughters new found excitement.

              Chris smiles at you. “Alright, kitchen, 5 minutes for Shirley temples and a strategy session!” He says, picking her up and carrying her to the kitchen.

You shake you head and follow them out of the bedroom.

              Chris sets your daughters on one of the barstools and moves to make the Shirley temples.

You sit next to Belle and kiss her head. “Okay, what do you want for your party?”

              “A fairytale,” she murmurs, completely serious as Chris sets her Shirley Temple in front of her.

“A fairytale?”

              She nods and sips her drink.

              Chris nods with her. “So princes and princesses?”

              She nods again. “Can I have pony rides too?”

You look at Chris as he looks at you. “I think that’d be great, sweetheart.”

              She beams up at the two of you. “Thank you! This is gonna be the best party ever!”

“Mummy and Daddy will even dress up as the King and Queen if you want us too.”

              She squeals with delight. “Really? That would amazing!” She says, standing up in her seat.

You look at Chris and he gives you a crooked grin. “Really, baby girl.”

              She launches herself at you and you catch her in a tight hug.

“We just want you to be happy baby, but remember, this is not going to be an every year thing. This is a special birthday because you are going to be Double Digits!” you murmur, squeezing her.

              “I’m gonna be double digits!” she squeals.

              “The big 1-0,” Chris says, shaking his head, “Seems crazy to thing you’re gonna be 10 years old already. Seems like just yesterday you were screaming your way into the world looking like the cutest little prune I’d ever seen.”

              She wrinkles up her face. “DAD!” she groans, resting her head on your shoulder.

You giggle, “You were a very cute little prune, our pruney little princess.”

              She gasps, “Mom!”

You share a look with Chris and laugh. “Alright, we are done.”

              She giggles, “I love you.”

You smile and stroke her hair gently. “We love you too, princess.”

Tagging: @angryschnauzer @conniesisland @persephone-is-here-omg​ @salimahbicharara-comun​ @soldatsaleannan​

[kingdon]

“Are you ready, darling?” Parrish called out to Elliot as he adjusted his cuff links, swept back his hair in the mirror and took a long look at his face to ensure he’d properly shaved and his skin was silky smooth as it could possibly be. He enjoyed referring to Elliot with the pet names that were passing trends of the time, and despite the fact that they’d been together for centuries at this point, they still shared in a deep, everlasting love just as fiercely as ever, eternally obsessed with each other. It was a bond physically evident in the rings Parrish had decided to forge for them in the hearth of an ancient fire god he’d befriended long, long ago, and it gleamed impossibly golden and lovely against his finger, bringing a smile to his face as he lifted his sleeve just a bit to check the diamond encrusted shimmer of his watch. “It’s going to get too late, if you dawdle any longer! I’m sure you look just as gorgeous as ever, I have such a great night planned for us, can you come out for me to at least see you already?”

He gently knocked on the door that separated the two of them, as Elliot had sealed himself in their bedroom and refused to come out for hours at this point, and Parrish could only imagine the pile of clothing that had accumulated on the floor by now as Elliot tore through his wardrobe for something to wear. Parrish did have much planned for them, indeed, a night full of dancing and strolling around the city together, admiring the glimmer of the lights, both of them still so in awe of this little discovery called electricity. Parrish often joked about the amount of candles they would have needed in order to light up their mansion home, a place arguably grander than his godly home in the clouds, and it was of no obstacle for Parrish to obtain, with his persona as Mr. Kingdon, a wealthy business owner of a company he would not disclose to anyone, as no such company really existed, and the money simply came like gold droplets beading from his palms, and all it then took was for it to be converted into the appropriate currency of the country and era. They’d traded ancient temples for bustling city streets and skyscrapers, but it was always the same old love for them, eternally burning flame of passion between them that seemed to enchant anyone who laid eyes upon them in the public.

They’d carved out a new life for themselves here, on the outskirts of a bustling city they’d chosen on a whim, mainly because they could both appreciate the beauty of it all, the twinkling lights and bands that played music that sounded foreign to their ears but caused them to feel delight and mirth in the beat, and they relished in the luxury this modern age offered them, so many new trinkets for Parrish to purchase to adorn Elliot’s skin, so many sweet treats like extravagantly decorated ice cream sundaes and vibrantly rainbow candies from expensive shops and clothing that was ahead of the fashionable curve at all times, Parrish would drop his money on absolutely everything and anything to spoil Elliot, a passion of his that had never waned despite the incredible length of time they’d spent together. It seemed as though Parrish would never tire of him, despite how exasperated he was often made by Elliot’s insistence he look absolutely perfect for their outings, even though he could have looked as though he’d just rolled out of bed with messy hair and sleepy half lidded eyes, and Parrish still would have adored him as much as always. “If you come out now, I’ll let you order as many Shirley Temples as you want at the club… I know how much you love those, ever since I let you take a sip of mine the other night. They’re all the rage right now, so we’d better leave shortly before the bar runs out of those little cherries that you like…!”

@tyver

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

E, Bruce Wayne and u choose

E. Sharing a drink.

Gotham has never been short on gossip about Bruce Wayne, but he blew all the old stories out of the water by adopting a orphaned acrobat apparently on a whim. There’s still an endless onslaught of probing questions, of course, but a different kind now. All anyone wants to talk about is Dick, who arrives at parties at Bruce’s side with slicked-back hair and immaculately tailored little suits and is always eager to provide a distraction.

Dick likes the spotlight naturally, authentically, the Bruce has been faking for years. He’s more than happy to let the high society types coo over him, to make them laugh by exclaiming over how fancy everything in Wayne Manor is, to delight them by asking if they want to see a handstand. 

(They always say yes. Never let it be said that the upper crust of Gotham City are burdened by an abundance of impulse control.) 

Bruce is afforded something almost like peace and quiet, smiling broadly and offer up bland platitudes about the great fulfillment of caring for children whenever anyone asks and extract himself from tedious conversations at will by claiming he needs to see to his young ward. For the most part, he’s left alone to sit in the corner of his choosing with the nonalcoholic beverage du jour.

There have always been questions about that, people being how they are. It’s not as if he lost his parents in a drunk driving accident; what other excuse is there for a red-blooded American boy to avoid alcohol the way Bruce Wayne does? 

Unexpectedly, Dick provides an easy out from that one as well. He’s a touchy child, not particularly accustomed to or concerned with personal space, and he doesn’t think twice about snagging desserts right off Bruce’s plate or helping himself to sips off Bruce’s drink. The first time he does this, early in his gala-attending career, there’s a gasp that circles the table, a dozen adults horrified that the sweet little boy has just helped himself to the hard liquor. 

It takes Bruce an alarming moment to catch up - he’s vigilant, yes, but Dick is sneaky, and making a quick study of all of Bruce’s tricks - but then he realizes, relaxes at once, offers up a laugh that’s almost real. 

“No need to worry, everyone,” he announces grandly, “it’s only a Shirley Temple young Dick has gotten into.”

Everyone laughs and Dick, whose blue eyes have gone wide as the proverbial deer in the headlights as he struggles to figure out what all the adults are all excited about, relaxes and has a second sip to much continued amusement.

Neither Bruce nor Dick ever remarks on it much after that, feeling there isn’t much to say. The people they are in public, in formal wear and in front of cameras, are very different than who they are at home, in the privacy of the Manor and the shadows of the cave, but certain things bleed over. The casual sharing of drinks and all the germs that entails is only one of the things Dick forgets to outgrow during his strange adolescence, and well into adulthood he’ll still take a half-empty mug of coffee right out of Bruce’s hands and drink it down without a second thought. 

[onedayiwillflyfree]

When the Sun Begins to Fall

Hello everyone, the first chapter of my first AWAE fic is now up on AO3! I am very excited to share it all with you(: special thanks @royalcordelia for being an absolute gem and editing it for me! Enjoy!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21255530/chapters/50608787

Chapter One

“...And that things are not so ill with you and me as they might h-have been, is half owing to the number who li-lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in un- unvisited tombs." 

“Wonderful job Emily, much improved.” Anne Shirley rested her hand on the young girls shoulder, squeezing it in reassurance. Emily smiled and handed the beloved Miss Shirley back her copy of Middlemarch before making her way back to her seat. Anne decided to do the same, feeling slightly drained after having a cold the last few days. She detested sitting during class, but occasionally she felt the need to make an exception.

Behind her desk, she folded her hands and stared at the twenty children sitting before her.

“Now class, I know you are all anxious to go about your weekend, but...” She paused for a moment to let out a chesty cough into her sleeve. “Excuse me. But I would like for all of you to practice your texts for at least an hour each day, and then write a small paragraph about what you have read to be turned in on Monday.” 

Groans erupted from her students as she felt another cough rising in her throat. She understood their frustration, as she was ready to go home herself. Over the last couple of days, she had been finding it harder and harder to make herself rise from her bed in the morning. Every muscle in her body seemed to be working against her and the pains she had in her lungs have made enjoying the morning walks impossible. She coughed into her handkerchief, managing to clear her throat enough to talk, “Now now, I understand your frustrations, however, think of all the wonderful places you can travel within,” she coughed once more, this time harder. She could not seem to get the phlegm out of her throat and it was most aggravating.

After one additional cough, phlegm loosened and made its way up. She looked down and what she thought would be a ball of gunk, was actually a tiny red dot. For a moment, the dot gave her pause but she was soon brought back when a student cleared their throat. Shoving the rag in her apron, she smiled up at her students.  “Ah, yes, sorry. I believe I am getting a cold. Class, you are free to go, enjoy the world around you.”

Without hesitation, everyone began bustling about the room, gathering their items and talking about their weekend plans. Anne observed for a moment before she turned on her heels, heading to her office. Shutting the door behind her, she pulled handkerchief out of her pocket and brushed her fingers against the dot. Blood? 

“No,” she whispered, “perhaps it's something I ate.” Although she said it with surety, she wasn’t convinced. Ever since she was young she has had an overactive imagination and the places her mind were going right now were plenty. None of them were good either.

A knuckle tapped against the door causing Anne to jump and drop the rag. “Come in,” she yelled as she bent down to grab it. She must have stood up too quickly because instantly the room was spinning and she felt as if she could faint. Bracing herself against her desk as she tried to regain her composure, the door opened to reveal Minnie May Barry, who over the last few years, she had truly grown into a beautiful young lady. Her mouse brown hair fell in gentle ringlets and her doe brown eyes sparkled even on the darkest day, the only girl who could possibly be  prettier than her in Avonlea would be Diana. When Anne was a girl, should would have given anything to look like either of the Barry girls. 

“Anne?”

“Minnie May, I’m Miss Shirley during school,” Anne mumbled as she rubbed her forehead.The room was still dancing around her, causing her to use extra effort just to focus on standing upright. She felt that if she didn’t sit immediately, she would surely faint.

“Well schools not in session now, so you’re Anne,” Minnie May retorted. Normally Anne would scold her, telling her to stop acting smart with her but she couldn’t find the energy. She pulled out her desk chair and attempted to sit gracefully but somehow she missed the chair and landed on the floor with a plop. Minnie May raced towards her and grabbed her arm, attempting to pull her up.  “Are you alright, Anne!?”

Embarrassed, Anne accepted her help and pulled herself up into the chair. “Oh yes, I am fine. Just a little dizzy is all. I must have accidently laced my corset to tightly this morning.” Minnie May did look assured so Anne plastered the best smile she could muster. “What did you need, dear?”

Minnie May hesitated for a brief moment before she spoke. “Diana is coming home tomorrow from Paris. Mama wanted me to ask if you were still bringing your famous apple pie.”

Anne silently cursed herself for feeling ill. Oh, why this weekend of all weekends? The one I am supposed to reunite with my bosom friend after she has been away for so long. Of all the unlucky things in my life, this is the worst so far. “Of course I will be there,” she managed utter before she went into a fit of rough,  dry coughs. Somehow this fit felt worse than before, it made her head pound. She looked in her tea pot hoping she had a little left but was left feeling disappointed to find it empty. Minnie May, understanding what was needed, pulled a jar of milk out of her lunch pail, gesturing it towards her. Grateful, Anne took the jar and poured it into her cup. In between coughs, she sipped slowly as Minnie May looked on. It felt cool on her throat and her coughing began to cease.“Thank you.” 

Minnie May nodded, concern crossing her face as she took the jar back from Anne. “Are you sure you’re alright?” 

“Oh yes, just a cold. A good night of rest and I will be right as rain in the morning.” Anne smiled brightly taking her young friend’s hand within her own. “Now run along and let your mother know that of course I am bringing my pie, and I am anxiously awaiting tea time.” A smile danced on Minnie May’s lips as she turned and skipped out towards the front of the room, where she had a large group of friends awaiting her arrival. Anne looked on, letting her smile fall into a gaze of nostalgia. How she missed walking home with Diana after classes, seeing her bosom friend daily and recanting stories of adventure and wonder. 

She turned towards her desk,momentarily forgetting the sharp pain in her temples and pulled out the half heart locket that she shared with Diana. The locket now shared the chain with a small silver key that looks as if it came straight from a fairy tale. Her hand reached to the top of her desk, where a locked drawer held her greatest treasures. Slowly she unlocked the drawer and began pulling out each item carefully. On top, lay Matthew’s “Most Unusual” ribbon from the county fair mere months before he passed. She held it close for a moment, thinking how proud he was of that radish and how they ate the entire vegetable over the course of the following week. She chuckled, she hasn’t been able to stomach radish ever since. A cough escaped her lips as she pulled out the blue ribbon Diana had worn almost everyday of their friendship. She had been bestowed it not long before Di had left for Paris, asking her to always keep it close. She decided she would bring it tomorrow for tea, to show she had indeed kept her promise. 

Next she pulled her copy of Jane Eyre given to her by Aunt Josephine for her sixteenth birthday. Inside of that held the portrait that Cole had penned of her so many years ago, along with flowers she had pressed from various occasions. A carnation from Matthews funeral, a daisy from Mary’s garden, dandelions from the first flower crown Dellie had made for her, and a wildflower picked by Gilbert while they walked the White Way of Delight after receiving their scores from the Queen's entrance exam.

At the thought of the curly haired friend she had cared for so deeply, the pain in her chest worsened.  She scolded herself. Push away those thoughts Anne, he is happy, you are happy. But she was lying to herself, as she had been everyday for the last two years. Even she, who had never had any issue with describing her feelings, struggled to find words to describe how much she missed her friend and academic rival. 

Before she could stop herself, she reached into the back corner of the drawer, pulling out a pocket dictionary and a bundle of letters. She ran her fingers along the spine of the book, that had begun to tear on the edges due to constant use. “So you can beat me fair and square,” she whispered, opening up the cover out of habit. She never did get to truly beat him. The last time they competed was at the Queens entrance exams, which they both ended up in first place and became dual recipients of the prize money. It should have made her angry but when he came to Green Gables to tell her the news, they both hugged without any indication of malice.

A smile danced on her lips once more as she turned her eyes to the letters, all of them from one sender. She pulled out the top letter, which was clearly much older than the rest due to its dark yellow hue. The envelope was falling apart from the letter coming out so often although now she didn’t have to read it to know its contents. It had been memorized for years. Her smile widened when suddenly she felt something rising in her throat. One, two coughs escaped her lips before she sputtered out crimson liquid on the envelope. She dropped the envelope in horror, only now realizing it felt like someone was poking an ice pick into her skull. 

Well that’s not good… Quickly she began putting her items back in their designated spot, when she turned her attention back to the envelope on the floor. Slowly, not wanting to make the room start spinning again,  she bent down to pick it up and laid it gently on the desk, not wanting it to drip onto any of her other treasures. She pulled the key from the drawer and placed it gently around her neck, deciding it was finally time to attempt standing.  It took longer than it would usually but eventually she was standing on her own two feet without support. She fastened her shawl around her shoulders, it was warm for a september afternoon but she felt slightly chilled.

Stepping out of her office, she locked the door behind her and made her way through the center aisle, using each desk as additional support, stopping for only a brief moment at the fourth one back. She would use the excuse that she needed to catch her breath but she always found herself drawn to the desk her old rival used to sit at. It sat empty every day, none of her students chose to sit at it, but she felt a more powerful force at work. Like they were saying that spot belonged to Gilbert and to him alone. 

Another cough pulled her gaze from desk. She made her way to the door as another rose in her throat only this time it was joined by a metallic taste. A taste she had become used to all too quickly. She managed to pull her handkerchief out just as the blood rose in her throat. The spot was larger this time but not as much as she had brought up in her office, which she was grateful for. Shoving it back in her apron, she fished the schoolhouse key from the other pocket. Around her, images began to blur. She managed to get the key into the lock on the fourth attempt. 

“Auntie!” A sweet voice called from behind her seconds before arms tackled her legs with a bear hug. Anne braced herself against the wall and began to see stars. 

“Oh, hello Dellie!” she said as cheerfully as she could manage. The dizziness was worsening now but in truth, she was happy to see the little girl who had brought so much joy into her life over the last three years.

“Careful Dellie, you don’t want to knock Queen Anne over now, do ya?” Sebastion called from a little farther down the path, carrying a basket in one hand. He greeted her with a toothy grin and Dellie released her legs, opting to hold Anne’s hand in one of her own, and her father’s in the other. Anne looked down to see the the basket filled to the brim with gorgeous red apples.

“Oh, those must be the apples for the pie,” Anne smiled softly, unsure if she could manage more. She of all people loved conversation but today, she was willing the conversation to end soon. All she wanted at the moment was a cup of tea and one of Marilla’s quilts draped over her lap.

“Yes they are. Freshly picked today, especially for you, by Miss Delphine Lacroix,” As he said her name, he poked Dellie’s cheek, sending her into a fit of giggles. He joined in her laughter and poked her again. Anne wished she could join in their joy, but something was feeling very wrong at that moment. Her face suddenly felt flush and the world around her spun so quickly, she felt she was going to puke. “Sorry for bringing them here, but you know how much she loves seeing the school…” he stopped suddenly, his eyes finally reaching her face. His smile dropped instantly and looked at her with great concern. “Anne, are you alright?” 

Before she knew what was happening, her knees gave way and she fell forward, ripping her hand away from Dellies.  

“ANNE!” Bash caught her with ease, throwing the apples on the ground. Dellie stood stock still for the first time in her life. 

“Bash,” Anne whispered, “I think I am in need of assistance getting ho-” she was interrupted by the worst coughing fit she had all day. Everything hurt, her lungs were on fire, her head felt like it was going to come off of her shoulders, and the world continued to spin.

“Auntie?” Dellie had begun to cry. Anne wish for nothing more to reach out and wrap Dellie up in her arms, tell her that she was okay but her body betrayed her. Her body felt like Atlas holding up the sky. She was tired. So incredibly tired. I just need to rest my eyes...just for a few moments... The last thing she remembered before falling asleep was Bash picking up Dellie, throwing her onto his back before he picked up Anne, and began running to Green Gables.

[thiswasinevitableid]

"we sleep together the same night a terrible snowstorm hits the city and everything gets shut down so now i have no way to get home so let’s make it a two night stand?" indruck prompt? (eyes emoji)

This prompt is Not Suitable for Your Workplace

Duck stretches out on the cushy lounge seat at “Woofs,” his favorite gay bar in the city. He’s in a celebratory mood, having scored a promotion (okay, so it’s from “almost full time” to “actually full time” ranger, but that’s still pretty damn good). So he’d fucked off to the big city for a night for as a reward.

He’s not sure if he’ll score in another way just yet. Duck isn’t prone to prowling at these places; if a guy is bear hunting and happens to like the look of him, he’s more than happy to dial up his quiet charm. Maybe growl in the guys ear a little and see if that gets them to a car or apartment or somewhere else where his date can bounce in his lap until he comes in some tight, if forgettable, ass. 

He used to be more proactive, but if he’s honest it feels weird being thirty-two and trying to put the moves on a guy who might be ten years younger than him,

As he sips his beer, a flash of white hair catches his eye. At the end of the bar nearest him, a skinny, gangly man of indeterminate age is drawing a finger around the rim of his glass. He turns for a moment in Ducks direction and he’s struck by how strange he looks. Not bad, but like no one Duck’s ever seen before. He doesn’t seem dressed for the setting, in fact he looks a little disheveled, and not in the scruffy way Duck is trying to pull off. 

Duck keeps an eye on him, looking for signs of interest. What he gets is the man staring at his drink for a solid five minutes, stirring it but never drinking. When he finally glances Ducks way again, he looks sad.

No, no way, Duck is not spending the night he set aside to relax and get laid seeing if someone random guy at a bar is okay. 

The seat next to the mystery man opens up. 

Duck stands. 

“Mind if I sit here?” He gives his most neutral smile.

The pale-haired man stares at him, eyes seeming far away behind the red lenses of his glasses. 

“Oh, no, go right ahead.” He flashes a tight, oddly wide smile, goes back to staring at his drink. Takes the tiniest sip and makes a disgusted face.

“Not an Old-fashioned man, huh?”

“I just like the cherries, the rest is too bitter. I saw too late there was an eggnog cocktail. Really only have money for the one drink.”

Duck’s beer is empty. He signals the bartender, orders an Old-Fashioned. When it arrives, he slides it towards the other man, cherry stem pointed at him. 

The man pauses, and to Duck it looks like he’s calculating odds in his head. Then he plucks the cherry from the glass and tugs it off the stem with his teeth. 

“Thank you.” His smile is shy, and this time he doesn’t turn away. So Duck keeps talking.

“Alright, I gotta know, do you only come to this place for cherries?”

“No. I came here because once again no one listened to me and I am so very tired. I thought I could get past my distaste for alcohol in order to get drunk and enjoy not having to think for awhile. No such luck.”

“So you were plannin just to sulk into your drink all night?”

“It was the probable outcome.” He looks longingly at the jar of maraschino cherries just visible on a back shelf.

“Y’know, if you order a shirley temple it’s got a bunch of those in it and no booze.” When the other man perks up he adds, “could even buy one for you, if that ain’t unwelcome.”

The man cocks his head as he looks at him, “Is this a flirtation?”

“Can be, if you want.” Duck takes a casual sip of his drink. The taller mans eyes trace from his hair down to his toes, widening with appreciation the more he takes him.

“I’m certainly interested.” This comes out in a purr, and Duck feels heat spark through his gut.

He’s delighted to find that he made a remarkably good call coming over here. His new friend is odd, yes, but also pretty damn funny, with a cute, crooked smile a promising shape to his ass. As they talk, he relaxes, his glum look vanishing, and he places soft, teasing touches on Ducks hand, arm, and thigh. 

By the time Duck’s finished his drink, he’s pretty sure where this night is going. 

A cherry is resting on the ice in his glass. He plucks it out, holding it between his thumb and finger. His companions’ eyes flick to the fruit, then to Ducks face, and a mischievous grin spreads across his lips. He leans forward, parting them and taking the cherry before licking along Ducks palm. 

“Mmmm” he purrs again, doesn’t bother to put any distance between them. 

“You got a name, darlin?” Duck whispers, voice husky.

“Indrid. And you’re-”

“Duck.” He replies, though it almost sounds like Indrid says it along with him.

“Duck” Indrid repeats, “huh, I like that name.” 

Duck likes it too. And he’s got a hunch he’s going to like it even more when Indrid is moaning it. 

----------------------------------------

Ducks’ hunch is correct.

“Duck.” Indrid whines, breathy and needy, pressed against the door of the Winnebago that he apparently calls home, “Duck, please, bedroom, now.” Deft, slender fingers are tugging his shirt open and he’s harder than he’s been in months. 

“Don’t want me to fuck you right here?” He grins, cupping Indrids ass and lifting him off the floor with ease (thank you weird powers he doesn’t want).

“Goodness!” Indrid wraps his legs around Ducks waist, “That was a surprise. I don’t get many of those.”

“Got good news for you, sugar.” Duck purrs, making Indrid wiggled excitedly in his arms, “I’m full of ‘em.”

------------------------------------------

Duck wakes up to snow falling in thick sheets beyond the small window in the bedroom. It’s a little later than he meant to wake up, but it’s Sunday and the drive to Kepler isn’t that long so he’s not in that big of a hurry. 

Indrid is curled in his arms, limbs intertwined haphazardly with his own. He makes a small, chirping noise, then cuddles closer.

Duck could probably just get up and go without Indrid noticing. But he’s got manners, and it would be impolite to leave without thanking his host for a lovely time. 

He kisses the top of Indrids’ head, “Mornin, sugar.”

“Nmmmh.” Indrid’s eyes flutter open behind his glasses, then he peers over Ducks shoulder out the window.

“I hate snow. ‘S cold.” He grumbles, burrowing further under the blankets.

“Well, you hunker down for the day then. I gotta get on the road, snow’s liable to make gettin home take way long than I planned.”

“But you’re warm.” He holds Duck tighter, kissing lightly at his neck. 

“And you’re real fuckin cute. But I still gotta go.”

“Very well.” Indrid smiles softly, “I’m glad you decided to celebrate with me last night. Congratulations on being a park ranger. It must be fascinating work. Do you like it?” The sweet, sleepy look on his face makes Duck melt a little.

“I see what you’re tryin to do” he teases, squeezing Indrids ass once for good measure, “you’re tryin to distract me, get me talkin about trees so you can steal my warmth.”

A sly smile this time, “perhaps a little. I won’t really keep you though. If you need to shower, it’s just through there.”

Duck thanks him, slips from the bed and heads into the bathroom. Emerges with a towel around his waist a few minutes later, gathering his clothes from where they were strewn about during last nights activities. Indrid is bundled in a thick, fluffy bathrobe, fiddling with the radio at the front of the trailer. As Duck retrieves his boxers from a lampshade, Indrid murmurs, “oh dear.”

A moment after, the radio informs them that a massive storm is moving through the area, and that travel is inadvisable at best and impossible at worst. 

“Looks like you may be here another night.” Indrid says apologetically, his face lit warmly by the space heaters dotting the Winnebago. 

“Can think of worse things.” He notices Indrid staring, remembers he’s still only in a towel. 

“See somethin you like?”

“I should think that was obvious.”

“I’m tryin to be smooth here, darlin.” 

“Be bold instead.” Indrid licks his lips and Duck shrugs, letting the towel drop to the floor. 

“That bold enough for yAHhhhhnnn, fuck.” Duck is pressed against the kitchen counter, Indrid dropping to his knees and rolling a condom on so swiftly that Duck swears it was like a magic trick, before taking all of Ducks cock in his mouth in one go. 

“Jesus, jesus sugar, oh fuck that feels so good.” He pets his fingers through white hair as Indrid looks up, smug expression clear even as his lips turn shiny with spit and lube.

“That’s, darlin, oh lord have mercy, fuck, your throat is so fuckin tight, feels amazin.” 

Indrid purrs, which makes Duck moan, then guides his other hand down so both a resting in his hair. 

“I’m real close, shit, just a little faster, c’mon, I know you can go faster please.” He whimpers embarrassingly loud when, instead of speeding up, Indrid slows down and blinks up at him with a mockingly innocent expression.

“Oh you fuckin…” Duck growls, orgasm nudged closer by the thought of where this is going. He tangles his fingers in Indrids hair, locks eyes with him.

“Yes?”

Indrid nods. And then Duck is thrusting his hips wild and fast, yanking Indrid back and forth along his cock. The taller man is moaning, blissed-out expression on his face as Duck fucks it. Duck finds filth pouring from his mouth with surprising ease, increasing in gruffness when Indrid moans at the harsher words. 

“Fuckin smartass little tease, oughta keep you on your knees and do this all day so you remember who you’re fuckin with. Oh fuck, Indrid, yes, oh fuck yeah.” He comes hard, forcing Indrids mouth all the way down again.  His hips pulse a few times, but when the man tries to pull away he keeps him trapped.

“Nuh uh, you’re gonna keep suckin til I’m done.”

A high, whimpering purr leaves Indrid, and Duck spies him palming the front of his pajama pants through his robe. Soon, he releases his head and he pulls back with a gasp. He makes a wordless, happy sound, nuzzling along the line of Ducks hips. 

“You want me to take care of that for you, darlin?”

“Yes, please.” 

Duck gathers him up off the floor, sets him on the counter and carefully tugs down his pants. His cock is dripping as Duck closes his hand around it.

“Oh! Oh yes.”

“How do you want it?”

“H-however you wish, but, but please touch the rest of me too.” 

Duck wraps his other arm around him, pulling him close as he steps between his spread legs. He kisses him wherever he can reach, little sighs echoing through trailer when he does. Indrid embraces his, lips trailing along his neck and face, kissing him eagerly. The kisses turn sloppier as Duck tightens his grip, stroking him hard and fast. 

“Kiss me, I want to come while you kiss me.”

“Think I can manage that.” He steadies Indrids head with his free hand, kissing him hard. The other man is making sharp, high noises against his lips and when he comes across Ducks hand and belly the noise changes to something like a trill, muffled as Ducks tongue slips between his lips to meet his own. 

Indrid keeps kissing him dreamily as he comes down from his orgasm. 

“You’re tremendous.” He murmurs under the hum of the space heaters. 

“Right back at you, darlin. Now, let’s go shower and, uh, see where the day takes us.” He says this last part with a grin that suggests they both the answer is “to bed.”

------------------------------------

In the decade that follows, both Indrid and Duck think on that night from time to time. For awhile, neither of them see it as any more than a two-night stand that was particularly excellent, one that they remember fondly.

It takes on irony much sooner for Indrid, but only because he sees what’s coming in a way Duck can’t. Then he nearly forgets about the whole thing because of the Cottonwood and the disasters and the phone calls. 

It’s only when he sees the Pine Guard coming up the trail to his home that realizes Duck Newton is in for quite a surprise. 

[hatandgoggles-writing]

The Demon and the Exorcists chapter 1: Daddy’s eyes

Read on AO3, Fictionpress or under the cut!

Barclay's eyes have always had the tendency to get him the wrong kind of attention, but it all comes to a head when a handsome looking gentleman offers to walk him home from work.

Chapter 1/? Ongoing 1429 words Romance/drama

Phone: check.

Jacket: check.

Shades: on.

Barclay sighed. ‘Okay, ready to go to work.’ He thought to himself.

It was already dark out, but he could never leave his house without wearing his shades. He hated looking like he was in a perpetual state of hangover, but at least he could take them off in the flashing, coloured lights of the club where he tended the bar. His eyes, dark blue with red speckles, had been a gift from his father, a demon of undetermined class and species. They had the annoying tendency to hypnotize any human that states too long into them.

They were more of a curse than a blessing though, his eyes. One time, he had been an hour late to class because a human couldn’t stop staring into them. Even worse than that, he couldn’t even count on his fingers the amount of times his mentor had lectured him on how unethical it would be to use his power to persuade humans to sleep with him. Of course he’d known that. He wasn’t some creep that needs superpowers to get laid, Barclay much rather relied on his own charms to get himself the men he wanted.

The walk to work was uneventful as always. The sun was slowly setting and the fall air was a tad too cold for his liking. He should have brought a scarf, he knew, but he was already halfway there, so he just buttoned up his blazer and flipped up the collar. He was well aware of the fact he looked like an absolute idiot. As soon as Harv let him inside, he immediately fixed his appearance. Barclay smiled as he greeted him and the other security guards, the waiters and waitresses, his bosses and the impossibly beautiful men and women that danced on the stages as he made his way to the bar, his bar. As he came closer to the coloured lights, he took off his shades and delicately placed them in his jacket’s inner pocket before hanging his jacket on the coat rack. Once he was inside, he only had to wait for the patrons to come in.

Only an hour after opening the doors, the club had steadily grown packed. Barclay had been busy mixing drinks and placed the last of this batch on the waitress’ tray when a man sat down on the bar stool right in front of him. The man looked conventionally handsome with his square jaw and dark brown hair that seemed to be greying prematurely. He wore a white dress shirt and a black blazer that framed his average build quite nicely. Barclay smiled when he saw the edges of a tattoo peek from under the cuffs of his shirt.

“What can I get you?” Barclay asked, his head tilted slightly to get the man’s attention, a teasing but not unfriendly smirk gracing his face. The stranger’s eyes widened as he took in the appearance of the bartender, staring at him. He almost cringed, dreading the task of having to pry the man’s eyes off him when the stranger snapped out of his trance and spoke up.

“Permission to walk you home after your shift, if you don’t mind. Oh, and a Shirley Temple, please.” The man said, shouting over the music.

“You’re going to have to pay for one of those.” Barclay teased as he mixed the drink. “But I’m not about to be walked home by a man whose name I don’t even know.”

“In that case, my name is Alexander.” The stranger smiled, extending a hand to shake. Barclay chuckled as he took it.

“My name is Barclay. So, Alexander, are you a cop?” He asked as he set down the drink in front of the other. “Or just not a big drinker?”

“A little bit of both, I guess you could say.” Alexander replied, taking a sip.

“Ooh, what kind? Narcotics? Homicide—”

“The kind I’m not allowed to disclose.”

“Fancy.” Barclay smirked, flashing his pearly white teeth. “Are you sure about taking me home, though? Seven hours is an awfully long wait. Besides, I’m sure you can get yourself someone better than me.”

Alexander leaned close, looking deep into Barclay’s eyes. He could feel the other man’s breath on his face, while his own got caught in his throat. He swore for a hot second that Alexander was going to kiss him, but when it didn’t come, he let out the breath he was holding.

“Trust me, you’re the one I want.”

***

On the way home, Barclay was gratefully wrapped up in Alexander’s warm coat as he watched their breaths turn into clouds. He would beat himself up later over forgetting to at least bring a scarf, but right now, he was too preoccupied in enjoying the moment.

“Why the shades?” Alexander suddenly asked. “It’s 3 AM, I doubt you need them at this hour.”

“Hm? Oh, sometimes the lights and the music give me migraines. This is the best way to keep my head from exploding when I walk home.” Barclay smiled, lying through his teeth.

“Whoa… Are you sure you shouldn’t get that checked out?” Alexander asked again, the worry in his voice sounding genuine.

“I have. Multiple times, actually. The doctors always say I’m a-ok, so I’m not worrying about it too much. How are you holding up yourself? Aren’t you cold?”

“No, not really. Not with a hottie like you next to me.” Alexander smiled as he wrapped an arm around Barclay’s shoulders, making the shorter man blush.

“Would you at least come inside with me, though? I’d feel horrible sending you on your way without at least getting some coffee into you.” Barclay said, looking up at the other man. Though slightly obscured by the thick frame of his shades, the worried frown on his face was quite easy to make out.

“That sounds delightful, actually.” Alexander mumbled, pressing a gentle kiss to Barclay’s temple.

The two continued their walk in pleasant silence, only to be broken by a soft, friendly chuckle when Barclay fumbled with the keys to his apartment.

The second the door of Barclay’s apartment closed behind them, Barclay was shoved against the wall. Not in the hot, making out kind of way, but more in the ‘holy shit, stop crushing my windpipe’ kind of way.

“I’ve got you now, you filthy incubus. Did you really think you could fool me? Your eyes were a dead giveaway.” Alexander said, glaring at Barclay as if he was the scum of the earth, while mere minutes earlier he had been borderline boyfriendly to him. How could he have fallen for that?

The half-demon kicked and thrashed as he was lifted off the ground by his throat, trying and failing to call for help while Alexander muttered a spell in a dead language he didn’t understand. The hand on his throat burned from more than just pressure, but then it dawned on him. The man wasn’t just trying to kill him, he was trying to exorcise him. Tears started welling up in his eyes as his vision grew black around the edges. He shook his head as much as he could until finally the shades flew off his nose. It took all he had left, but Barclay glared down at Alexander, forcing him into a trance.

“Put me down and let go.” He demanded weakly, using whatever air was left in his burning lungs, but it worked. Alexander lowered Barclay back to his feet. Unmoving, waiting for his next orders as the smaller man caught his breath. “Go. Leave this place and never assault a peaceful demon the same way you assaulted me again.” Barclay shoved the man’s coat back into his hands, taking him out of his trance, but the message would remain in his minds for possibly decades. The man almost immediately fled the small apartment, hopefully never to come back.

Barclay sighed as he slumped against the wall, slowly letting himself slide down until he was seated on the hallway floor. How could he have allowed himself to fall for that sickeningly sweet display? How could he have hypnotized a human, despite decades of his mentor telling him not to? He winced in pain as his fingers traced over the tender flesh where Alexander’s hand had been before burying his face in his knees, a sob shaking his entire body. He would call his mentor about the whole ordeal in the morning, but now, he just wanted to sleep, to forget what had happened.

‘Incubus.’

‘He called me incubus.’