#so it would be easier to write lottie on the side ??

[shaunamilfman]

yellowjackets + affection headcanons

pairing: Shauna Shipman x r, Jackie Taylor x r, Lottie Matthews x r, Natalie Scatorccio x r note: seperatelyyyyy.

Shauna Shipman

very subtle demonstrations of affection. she’s definitely not a fan of over-the-top displays of PDA, preferring to express her feelings through her actions. show, don’t tell type.

does a lot of small things like making your favorite meal, leaving you little notes, and letting you pick what to watch even if it’s not your turn.

a lot of what she does isn’t especially romantic in nature, though it’s not to say that she doesn’t have her moment, but it’s always demonstrative that you’re special to her in some way or another.

very clingy, but not necessarily in public. she really likes to sit flush against you on the couch, the entirety of her side pressed against yours as she rests her head against yours. 

she’s a big fan of just laying together, even if you’re not necessarily intending on going to sleep. running her fingers across your skin absentmindedly as you lay together on the couch.

gives you compliments almost as if they’re an afterthought, but they’re always so sincere that you know she’s put actual thought into them even if she pretends otherwise.

drunk Shauna or jealous Shauna is all over you, though. she sees someone breathe in your direction and nearly jumps the couch to get over to you.

she’s so protective of you, even over the smallest things. imagined injustices are too much for her. tell her Nat was mean to you in a dream, and her ass is glaring at her the next time she sees her.

she’s always watching you in one way or another. sometimes it’s because she's being possessive, but she mostly just likes to know that you’re okay. any time you’re separated at the same event, you can relax knowing Shauna knows exactly where you are at any moment.

Shauna Shipman will not forget a date. she knows every milestone of your relationship and could list off the day they happened. she’s kind of cheating because her ass is going straight home and writing in her journal about it the day it happens, so she can always check back to the date.

Jackie Taylor

likes to make your life easier any way she can. unfortunately, Jackie’s ideas of what would make your life easier aren’t always exactly true. but she’s trying, and that’s the important part, right? sure, you spent twenty minutes trying to figure out how she reorganized your kitchen, but she did it with love.

queen of PDA. she’s all over you all the time. her ass will climb you like a tree in public. absolutely does not understand that there’s a time and a place for all that, but who would want her to?

always, always, always holding your hand. tries to pull your hand off the wheel at every single stoplight because it’s been sooooo long. kisses your cheek any time you’ve done anything that made her even the slightest bit happy, or also just because. she’s not picky.

no one on Earth will talk you up more than Jackie Taylor. she’s showering you with compliments, both to your face and to anyone who will listen to her talk about you. they’re all so genuine too.

plans the most complex dates you’ve ever seen. truthfully, they’re mostly for her own benefit, but you always have a good time anyway. she will expect to hear how impressed you were with whatever she planned out at length. she needs the reassurance.

so physically affectionate. hand-holding where she just plays with your fingers while watching TV. anytime you’re lying down, trust that Jackie will be climbing on top of you and staying there. falls asleep on top of you, and you’re stuck there till she wakes up.

listens very intently whenever you talk, but eventually her eyes always end up falling to your lips. she’s just a girl.

she’s so playfully mean to you. always gently poking fun at something you’re doing as she skips up next to you and presses the entirety of her body against your back.

so incredibly possessive. god forbid you even look in someone else's direction or it’s on. as much as she craves your attention on her all the time, it truly is just the way she cares for you.

quality time!!! your ass isn’t going anywhere.

Lottie Matthews

Lottie’s trying to get you lore dropping on the first date for sure. she’s very emotionally aware and enjoys the intimacy of sharing secrets and feelings between the two of you.

loves to take care of you. she hates when you’re sick but also loves to smother you in love and care whenever you are. definitely confesses it to you guiltily one day like it’s a grievous sin.

stocks her cabinets with things that you like. walking around the store with a little list of everything she’s ever seen you eat before you stay over for the first time.

forces the nastiest herbal teas on you for your "health.”.

gives you so many gifts. most of them are just small little trinkets that remind her of you, but they’re always so thoughtful in nature. remembers anything you’ve ever mentioned being interested in or looked at when out at shops.

the type to drop in while you’re studying all day with a snack because she knows you forgot to eat. pulling you out of your chair to get up and dance with her because you haven’t moved from your desk in four hours. pulling your headphones off your ears and dragging you to bed because you have to get up in six hours.

she’s so physical touch. Lottie’s always touching you in some way or another. just small touches mostly: brushes of her fingers across her arm as you walk past her, fingers intertwined as you walk around whatever market she’s dragged you to today, her thumb against your face as she rubs off the tiniest speck of dirt, brushing hair out of your face as you talk animatedly.

good luck getting Lottie’s head off of your shoulder. doesn’t matter if you’re standing or laying down. she’s zeroing in on it immediately.

Natalie Scatorrcio

not traditionally affectionate in the slightest. she’s very awkward with it at the best of times. epitome of like, “I dunno, you’re cool, or whatever,” while kicking the toe of her shoe against the dirt and avoiding eye contact. does not have any experience with giving or receiving affection at all.

she blushes to her ears at even the slightest hint of love or care once you get closer. girl does not know what to do with herself; she's so stressed.

it takes forever for Nat to tell you anything personal about her life. so when she finally does start talking that vulnerability is a major sign of her affection for you.

quality time where you sit together and do separate things. sitting on opposite sides of the couch while Nat keeps sneaking looks at you whenever she thinks you’re not paying attention.

she’s not great at comforting you while you’re upset, but she’ll always listen for as long as you want to talk about it.

so incredibly loyal and protective. she’s not even letting rightful criticism of you go. at least when other people say it. argues with someone for twenty minutes about something you did, but the second you’re alone she’s like, “that was so lame.”

she’s really physically affectionate in public, but not in the traditional sense. bumps your shoulders together a lot while giving you that crooked grin of hers, taps her foot against yours under the table, that sort of thing. in private, I think she would like more full-body contact stuff like cuddling than handholding or stuff of that nature.

Nat’s the type to drop you off at the front of the store when it’s raining while she parks the car. always walks on the curbside of the sidewalk so that car “hits her instead." always tries to open the door for you even when it’s inconvenient (think rushing around the car).

definitely the type to present you with pretty rocks she found and grins stupidly whenever she sees it sitting on a shelf at your place.

likes to try to fix things around your house.

[jamdoughnutmagician]

Tiny Match-maker

Bucky Barnes x Single mom!Reader Fluff

Adjusting to his new life outside of the superhero business, Bucky makes the acquaintance of a very young, inquisitive girl.

Just a meet-cute scenario with Bucky, that I might just write a part 2 for if people are interested in it.

Word count:1,853.

Masterlist // Bucky Barnes Masterlist

It wasn’t often that Bucky found time for himself. Between the busy and at times chaotic line of work he found himself in, it didn’t leave a lot of time to do the things that the average person could do.

Doctor Raynor suggested that taking a step back from the heroic, android, alien, wizard-crime-fighting lifestyle might be just the thing that he needed. To take some time to do the things that the everyday person took for granted.

So that’s why Bucky found himself for the first time in a long while browsing the aisles of his local grocery store, standing in the middle of the dairy aisle, pondering if there’s any real difference between getting oat milk or almond milk. 

He’s brought out of his thinking when he feels something collide with his shins. Something, or rather someone. A young girl, she couldn’t have been more than three, maybe four years old. Her hair that is tied up into two bunches on either side of her head bounce slightly as she crashes into him.

He looks around himself, apart from him and this little girl, the aisle was otherwise empty. 

What was he supposed to do? He’d rescued thousands of civilians time and time again, but this little girl was just standing there, wide-eyed and innocently looking up at him.

“Hi! My name’s Lottie!” the little girl introduces herself with a big gap-toothed smile.

Bucky crouches down ever so slightly to meet her smaller stature. 

“Hi there, Where are your parents, huh? Are you lost?” he asks, keeping his voice soft when talking to her.

 Just as the little girl opened her mouth to answer, a woman came running down the aisle, slightly out of breath and with a look of panic on her face.

As she gets closer, Bucky takes in her appearance, she's pretty. Really pretty. The kind of effortless beauty that has a faint blush rising to his cheeks. 

“Charlotte!” the woman calls out as she comes closer to the little girl before scooping her up in her arms and hoisting her on her hip. “What have I told you about running off like that?” you gently scold her, although the scolding is more out of your own worries about your little girl.

“Sorry mommy.” she murmurs quietly as she tucks her head into your shirt.

“I’m so sorry, sir, I hope she didn’t bother you too much.” you smile apologetically at the man in front of you. He was tall, broad and far too handsome for his own good. With soft dark brown hair that fell along his jaw, pretty pink lips, the most beautiful stormy grey-blue eyes, and just the right amount of stubble grazing across his angled jaw to have you blushing as he looked your way. 

“Oh, hey, no harm done, she seems like a sweet kid.” he smiles, his voice is deep and rich, with a slight raspy gravel.

“Yeah, she is, although it would help if she wasn’t so much of an explorer, it’d be a lot easier to keep my eye on her otherwise.” you laugh.

“No, the world needs more explorers I say!” the handsome stranger joins in with a friendly chuckle of his own. 

“Well, I can see you’re busy, so we won’t keep you any longer..” you string out the end of your sentence, when you realise that you don’t actually know your new friend’s name.

“James. My name’s James.” he says, gesturing to himself. You tell him your name in return with a friendly smile.

“Well, it was nice talking to you, James.” You smile before turning back down the aisle. 

Bucky watched as you walked away from him, and he couldn't  help but hope that he might run into you again.

“Look, all you gotta do is go down there, tell a few old man war stories, answer some questions, maybe have your picture taken a few times and that’s it” Sam explained.

Sam had signed Bucky up to tell a few stories to the kids at the school downtown. A few about his life back in the day, and his life now. Sam thought it might be good for his public image.

“Just because you’re Captain America now, doesn’t mean you get to tell me what to do, Sam.” Bucky grumbled.

“When Steve gave me the shield, he did warn me it came with the custody of one grumpy super-soldier.” Sam laughed a wide, gap-toothed smile at his friend.

“..And that’s why you don’t let your best friend sign-up to be a government ordered science experiment.” Bucky smiled, as he finished his talk with the assembled group of young students in the small, but colourful classroom.

“Wonderful, and does anybody have any questions for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher asked, as she stepped out beside Bucky.

“How did you lose your arm?” a young boy blurts out, quickly raising his hand.

“Timothy!” The teacher is quick to gently scold the young boy, but Bucky quickly steps in before she can make her point.

“It’s quite alright, I don’t mind answering this question.” He assures the teacher, before turning to the young boy. “I-uh-I kind of lost it when I came up against a bunch of bad-guys, who weren’t very nice at all.” Bucky thinks carefully about how he was going to word his answer, especially for this 5-year old kid. “..But it’s all good now, because I’ve got the super-strong metal one.” he shows off by rolling up the sleeve of his deep-red henley shirt.

“Are you and The Falcon really friends?” another young boy asks from where he’s sat cross-legged on the carpet in front of Bucky.

“Well, we’re team-mates, so I guess I’d call him a friend, but really he only hangs out with me because I make him look cool.” Bucky jokes with ease.

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes.” A tiny hand shoots up amongst the group. 

Bucky looks out and there sat at the back of the class is the little girl who ran into him at the grocery store at the weekend. Her bouncy curls tied up in two bunches on either side of her head.

“Yes, Lottie, you have a question for Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts. 

“Are you single? I think my mommy would really like you.” She smiles in that innocent way that children do, unaware of the slightly impertinent question she was asking.

Bucky flushes scarlet all over, a blooming heat settling over his features. 

With a laugh and a nervous scratch to the back of his neck, he gathered himself together enough to answer the young girl.

“I am, and I’m sure your mommy is a wonderful lady, but I think it's best that we don't talk about her private life when she's not here.” Bucky stutters out, chosing his words very carefully. 

The school bell suddenly rings into life, signifying the end of the day, and the children are all quick to get up from the carpet and make their way towards their coats and bags that are stowed away in their cubby holes.

“Ah ah, kids! What do we say to Sergeant Barnes?” The teacher prompts

“Thank you Sergeant Barnes.” The children say harmoniously. 

Bucky shrugs on his dark leather jacket as he makes his way out of the school, watching as all of the kids rush off to find their parents.

He was just about to head off to the school’s parking lot, where he’d parked his motorbike, when he sees the same girl from the classroom, the very same one who had bumped into him at the grocery store, this time her tiny hand tugging her mother across the playground and straight towards him.

“Mommy! This is the man who came into class today to tell us stories!” Lottie bubbled excitedly. 

You stepped closer to Bucky and he swears that you got even more beautiful than when he last saw you for that fleeting moment. 

As you get close enough to him to fully see his face you are met with the piercing blue eyes of the familiar stranger who you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about since you’d bumped into him at the supermarket.

“Mommy! This is Mr. Sergeant Barnes! He told us all about working with his friend Captain America!” Lottie blurts out.

You had recognised him from the moment you saw him in the store, but out of courtesy to not embarrass him, you pretended that you didn't know about his life as an avenging super-soldier. 

“Mr. Sergeant Barnes?” Your voice raises in a teased question.

“Just James is fine, Ma’am.” Bucky clarifies, extending a warm hand out in a friendly greeting.

In return you shake his hand and tell him your name.

“So, it seems that we’re meeting again, James” You smile

“Hah, yeah.” He smiles back fondly with a warm chuckle.

“So you’re the one who’s been telling my daughter all these fantastical stories?” you pose, eyebrow arched.

“Just something I do as a way of working with the local community. Helping young kids to learn about their history from first-hand accounts.” he explains.

“Well, that's a very sweet thing to do.” you smile. 

“Mommy.” Lottie whispers as she tugs at the sleeve of your jacket. “He said he was single too!” 

“Sorry about her, she likes to play match-maker.” you apologise, hoping that things hadn’t taken a turn for the awkward. 

“It’s okay.” he laughs it off. “She’s a cute kid.”

“Yeah it’s just been me and her from the start, it’s been tough at times, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Oh? Well she seems like a wonderful young girl, and that’s only testament to having you as her mother.” he says with an earnest smile tugging at his pink lips.

“Come on now, Lottie, let’s head home, and let Mr. Sergeant Barnes get back to his life.” you say to your daughter as you begin to make your way out of the school’s playground.

“Wait!” He jogs across the school years to catch up with you before you can leave. “and you can absolutely tell me if I'm just reading this whole situation all wrong, but I'd be a fool if I didn't at least ask you if you perhaps fancied meeting up and getting coffee..at least meeting on purpose this time.” he blushes adorably.

“You know what, I'd like that actually.” You nod. “Let me give you my number and you can text me whenever you're free and we can set something up.”

He hands you over his phone and you enter your number in and text yourself so you have his number on your phone too.

“Here you go,” you say as you hand him over his phone. “It was nice seeing you again, James.”

“Bucky.”

“Hm?” 

“My friends call me Bucky.” 

“Well, Bucky, I hope to see you again, sooner rather than later.”

“You can count on it.” He grins back with a cheeky wink.

Bucky walks back to his apartment with a confident stride, he'd have to thank Sam for signing him up for this gig, that's for sure. 

@penguinsandpotterheads @paybacksawitch @impmunson

[toms-cherry-trees]

Don't Hold My Hand (I'll Break Your Heart) || Tommy Shelby x Fem OC ~ Ch. 2

Summary: A doctor's visit changes Charlotte's perspective of things, and she begins to worry about her patient

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Talks of medical injury, talks of cuts and headwounds, talk of blood and medical procedures. No beta readig we die like John

Author's note: Once more sorry for the delay but I am writing so many WIPS at the same time things slip through the cracks, but I am really hyped for all the things I have planned

Requested taglist: @call-sign-shark @zablife

《 PREV PART -  NEXT PART 》

Steam rose from the kettle’s spout, the high pitched whistle indicating the water had boiled. The teapot had been filled with fragrant tea leaves and two slices of lemon. Sugar and milk side by side in the tray, alongside a plate with homemade biscuits and a platter of elegant tea sandwiches. Two white teacups with golden rims and matching saucers, one of them prefilled with a shot of white rum. Linen napkins embroidered with an S, silverware from Italy and a touch of affection from the hands that prepared the tray.

Charlotte picked it up carefully, carrying it close to her body to bear the weight easier as she took it to Thomas’ rooms, where he currently sat with his main physician for his monthly evaluation. Doctor Foster rarely had anything new to say or any glimmer of hope to offer them; he only came the first week of every month to tell them what they already knew and collect his payment. One of the very few visitors whom Thomas didn’t welcome with a scowl, perhaps because he secretly harboured the hope of one day getting the words that he wanted from the old man.

The scent of fresh flowers accompanied Charlotte as she walked to the second floor. Ever since that conversation with Mrs. Gray, she had redoubled her efforts to brighten up Thomas’ life. Vases with freshly picked flowers decorated various surfaces of the rooms, the bouquets swapped as soon as the first petals began to wither and fall. Every morning she drew back the curtains and opened the windows, to allow sunlight and fresh air inside. She encouraged him to rise from bed at appropriate times, not allowing him to linger between the sheets for days on end. Books, board and card games and even a typewriter had been brought up, in hopes of encouraging him to find anything to keep his mind and day occupied. She hadn’t managed to do something about his hair and beard yet, but she would soon get there. 

She pushed the double doors open with her shoulder, the teacups tinkling in their saucers and the tea sloshing slightly. When the doctor came around, he and Thomas met alone behind closed doors, not even his aunt allowed in, although she always received a briefing before handing in the money envelope. Whether the man spoke or not the truth of those sessions to her, one couldn’t know.

Lottie cleared her throat, barely enough of a sound to alert them of her presence as she placed the tea tray on a low table. She tried her hardest not to snoop, but curiosity can be a wild and untameable thing. She looked through her eyelashes towards the bed where Thomas lay, stripped down to his underwear. The doctor held Thomas’ foot in his hand and urged him to push against it as hard as he could. She noticed his hand fisted on the sheets, teeth gritted as he put all his efforts on heeding the simple command. As Thomas looked down at the doctor, his gaze crossed with Charlotte’s. The blue melted to pure ice, and he grabbed the closest thing he had at hand to toss towards her, which happened to be a harmless pillow.

“Out! Out of here! Now!” 

She didn’t need to be told twice. Charlotte scurried out of the room and down to the foyer. Mrs. Gray already stood there, nervously drumming her fingers against her arm as she stared out the window. On a side table lay a closed envelope with the doctor’s name scribbled on elegant calligraphy. Charlotte noted it to be slightly thinner than the previous one she had seen, just a couple days after her arrival to Arrow House. Maybe the doctor had lowered his fees for them, or maybe Mrs. Gray had decided he got paid far too much to do nothing except bear bad news.

Both women waited side by side, submerged in their own thoughts each, the silence interrupted only by the ticking of the grandfather clock. Three quarters of an hour had passed when Doctor Foster came down the stairs. He had bread crumbs on his shirt and moustache and a biscuit on hand. For some reason, that ticked Charlotte off. 

“Well?” Mrs. Gray asked harshly, also noticing that the man had surely spent more time eating than being helpful to his patient.

The doctor had the decency at least to stuff the biscuit in his pocket and brush off the crumbs before speaking. He stood straight, arms behind his back, a nervous twitch of the lips making his moustache quiver. He appeared to be intimidated by Mrs. Gray, a feeling that Charlotte shared.

“It is all just the same. His legs are weaker than in my last visit and he has started to lose sensitivity in some areas of the soles and calves. I am afraid it’s just a matter of time before he can no longer leave the chair, not even with the cane”

The news settled in the bottom of Charlotte’s stomach like a chunk of ice. They knew, all of them, the severity of Thomas’ lesions, and the limited prospects he had of recovery. But they thought, his aunt most of all, that they had more time before the inevitable. A few more years before he became completely and irremediably wheelchair bound and maybe worse than that. Charlotte knew all too well what sort of future would await then; bed sores, loss of muscle, infections. A lifespan cut in half.

And if she had come to learn something about Thomas during her time working there, he wouldn’t stand to live needing assistance to take a piss.

Mrs. Gray’s lips tightened into a line, eyes narrowing just enough to seem darker than usual. She put her hand on Doctor Foster’s bicep,the wool of his sweater straining a bit under the strength of her grip. The man didn't show it in his face, but that surely hurt. 

“May we have a word, you and I?” Her tone sounded more like a demand than a petition, as she led the doctor towards her private studio. Charlotte waited until they disappeared from sight to release a shaky breath. She steadied herself for whatever hellstorm would rain upon her and headed upstairs slowly. But halfway up, a loud crash cut through the silence, accompanied by the sounds of broken glass and muffled words that could only be curses of the thickest calibre. She picked up her skirts and broke into a sprint.

“Thomas?!” She called out as soon as she crossed the doors.

Thomas laid on the floor amidst broken porcelain and bits of food. The tea table had been flipped over, as had the delicately prepared tea tray. His wheelchair remained by the bed several feet away, with his cane carefully propped against it. Judging by the way everything lay on the floor, Thomas had tried to leave the room alone and unaided.

“Christ in Heaven what happened here?”

Charlotte rushed to his side, her keen eye immediately noticing the myriad of minuscule wounds in his hand and face from the tiny shards, along a more concerning cut on his temple from the table corner. She tried to help him sit up, but Thomas only smacked her hand away

“Leave me, I can do it. I can do it!” He growled, fighting her off like a child refusing to put on a coat in winter, or rejecting having dirt wiped from his cheek. Groaning due to the effort he rolled onto his back, but he had not enough strength to sit up without laying his wounded hands on the floor.

She paid no heed to his stubbornness and instead hooked her arms under his armpits, putting all her strength into dragging him away from the dangerous mess before he could injure himself further. She grunted with every pull, managing to move him only a few inches at a time, her muscles straining against the dead weight.

“Do you think I am a sack of shit to be dragged around?” Thomas hissed, but at least he had stopped thrashing about like a fish out of water.

“For fuck’s sake you are as heavy as you are obtuse” She retorted back, clearly not caring about the properties of their caregiver-patient relationship in that moment. At least not enough to watch her language. She only cared about somehow putting him back on the wheelchair and assessing the damage. 

It took her no small amount of physical strength and skill to get Thomas back onto his chair, even with him doing what little effort he could pushing with his legs against the floor. By the time she had managed to prop him back into place, a thin layer of sweat pearled her forehead, and she felt the dampness of her skin under the thick fabrics of her uniform. She hastily wiped her brow with her sleeve, all her attention focused on the bleeding wound on his temple. The crimson stained the left side of his face and neck and soaked the fabric of his shirt and waistcoat. Charlotte pulled off her white oversleeves to use them to stem the bleeding, but as expected he rose to battle the second she tried to touch him. 

“I said don’t fucking touch me. Get away. Get away!” He barked the last words, his hands slapping hers away repeatedly. It would have been comical if it had not been so irritant. But Charlotte finally snapped, her never ending patience finally fading into naught as the blood continued to pour and her patient continued to fight. At last, she got hold of Thomas’ wrists and forced his hands to the sides, her grip firm but not painful. She leaned in, their faces closer than they had ever been before. 

“I am going to take a look at those cuts whether you approve or not. So I suggest you make both of our lives easier and stop being so difficult” Her tone rose steadily with each word, surprising even herself. She had never spoken to another person, let alone a patient, that way. But Mr. Shelby had effectively exhausted all her reserves of compassion and in that very moment, with him wounded and pricked with glass, Charlotte couldn’t find it in herself to coddle him. In that moment he didn’t need her kindness, he needed the firmness and determination of a war nurse.

And Thomas seemed to know it too, deep down. For he fell silent the second her words rang through the air, eyes widened and lips parted, shocked to have someone speak to him that way. Slowly, like admitting defeat, he placed his hands on his lap, fingers digging tightly on the fabric of his trousers. He evaded Charlotte’s eyes as she took a seat by his side, having grabbed a small first aid kit she kept in hand. 

It seemed that Thomas Shelby couldn’t stand up to a woman who spoke louder than him.

While he held the rolled up fabric to his knocked temple, she took hold of his left hand and held it up to the sunlight. With a pair of alcohol soaked tweezers she began the delicate process of pulling the tiny shards off. Every now and then he hissed in pain and tried to pull away, but it took only a sharp look and a tightening of her grip on him to put him back on track. The pieces of porcelain tinkled on the lid of the first aid kit balancing on her knees as she dropped them, one by one. When she finished she pressed an alcohol soaked rag to his hand, forcing his fingers to curl around it. Thomas’ jaw clenched, but he refused to display any sign of pain besides the flaring of his nostrils. 

Charlotte inspected the cut on his head next, her eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she pushed aside the blood matted hair, her face so close to him her breath fanned over his face. That close she noticed even his hair smelled of cigarettes, since he refused every effort of her or anyone to help him wash.

"The cut is not deep enough to require stitching but I will have to bandage it"

Tommy snorted "I am not going to let you wrap me up like a fucking mummy"

Charlotte rolled her eyes "Mummies have their mouths wrapped shut. I cannot afford that luxury with you" She quipped, gently dabbing at the wound with a wet gauze, being as careful as she could to spare Thomas further discomfort. But that wouldn't save him from her stern words now that they had been allowed to emerge. Gentleness had proved ineffective against him, so now Charlotte had to retort to cockiness, a quality of hers she had kept buried for being ‘unbecoming’ but which now would prove useful to crack Thomas’ stone walls.

“Deep breath” She instructed, pressing the alcohol soaked cloth to his temple. Thomas bucked like a startled horse, nails digging on the armrest of the chair and teeth gritted, his head instinctively trying to escape the sharp burning, but forced to remain still by Charlotte’s firm hold. She held him against her body in an almost maternal gesture until the pain faded into a manageable sting and he relaxed his muscles and stopped huffing. 

“Are you always this much of a brute with your patients?” He asked in between heavy breaths, although his tone had dropped some of the usual sharpness in favour of something akin to amusement. As if he saw something in Charlotte that sparked his interest.

“Only with those who deserve it” The diverted smirk made it to her lips without permission. A faint hint of pride rose upon her chest, for the very first time she had managed to make Thomas comply, even if it took a head wound and raising her voice to do so. The first step had been taken for him to finally see her as an aid and not a threat or a nuisance. And Charlotte couldn’t wait to take the next. 

After she bandaged his head, having added in between a teasing comment of how things would have been much easier if he didn’t sport the haircut of a caveman, she set up to put the room back in order. The maid brought her the broom and dustpan, but Charlotte took it upon herself to clean up, knowing he wouldn’t take kindly to having others in the room while he changed out of his blood soaked upper clothes. While she swept crumbs and pieces of porcelain, the little bug of curiosity nagged at the back of her mind.

“I take it the doctor didn’t bring the news you expected” She often spoke to him, perfectly aware he wouldn’t reply, but she did it nevertheless. She always talked to her patients back in the ward, even if they couldn’t hear her or talk back. Giving them the reassurance that they had someone at their side looking after them, even if they couldn’t see her. 

Much to her surprise, however, this time the patient spoke back.

“He knows nothing, that man. I pay that man to heal me and all he does is come into me house, eat the fucking food and flirt with the maids” He pulled out a cigarette, rubbing it against his lips twice before lighting it with a black and golden lighter “He’s not coming here again”

Lottie refrained from rolling her eyes “He has been looking after you for years. Ever since you were injured during the war. He knows you better than anyone else Thomas. He is only trying to help you” As I do, she added in her mind.

“And what a great help he has been, eh?” He drummed his fingers against his thigh to emphasise his words, his piercing eyes following Charlotte’s every movement as she rolled the heavy and soiled carpet to put it aside and set the table back in place.

“I know this concept may seem foreign to you, but I beg you to show some basic kindness to the new doctor when he comes next week. I am sure Mrs. Gray had the best intentions when she asked him here and-”

He cut her words with a single statement that completely flipped her “Oh she didn’t call him here. I did”

Charlotte felt compelled to clean her ears and ask him to repeat himself in case she had heard wrong. He? Thomas himself had called a doctor to help him? It made no sense, for the man who rejected most fervently to be helped, to ask for help of his own free will.

He picked up the astonishment in her widened eyes and continued on without having to be pressed further.

“He’s been working with many veterans after the war. He seeks them to try on his new treatments. Treatments he devises himself” He snuffed his cigarette in one of her pretty vases before tossing the stub inside, letting it float around the fresh daisies Charlotte had brought that morning “He says he’s made them walk again”

A mixture of feelings flooded Charlotte, all at the same time and with such intensity she couldn’t focus on only one. Once more she had to fight back the pity, but it couldn’t be helped. How could she not feel sorry for that man who clung to the first ‘medical miracle’ that crossed his path in hopes of restoring what war had cruelly taken from him? She had seen it before, men who drank questionable syrups and tinctures, swallowed handfuls of nameless poisonous pills and subjected themselves to the most horrid types of torture medicine could invent in hopes of regaining some semblance of a past long lost.

Close second in her heart came suspicion. Thomas had mentioned that this man, this doctor whoever he was, sought the veterans himself. Which meant he utilised less than orthodox methods to retrieve confidential medical records from private practitioners and maybe even from the war offices. And those treatments created by himself? It screamed charlatan all over, a trickster who exploited desperate men and robbed them of all their life savings and more just to give them reused saline in clean vials and sugar pills in medicine bottles with handwritten labels.

Charlotte couldn’t comprehend how a man like him, so careful and methodical, a man whom everyone regarded as possessing an incomparable sharpness of mind and an overflowing resourcefulness; the man who had Birminghan quaking in their boots at the mention of his name, could be fooled by false promises of medical prowesses that smelled rotten from a mile away?

She swallowed, trying to find how to best bring up her concerns without making it sound like a direct attack on Thomas' judgement. Lottie sat on the edge of an armchair, her hands folded in her lap, fingers intertwined as she pondered her words.  

“Thomas” She rubbed her thumb and index together, a nervous tic of hers that nothing had managed to suppress “Doctor Foster has been seeing you for years now, and he has not once changed his prognosis. Don’t you find it a bit suspicious that a new doctor just comes to you and offers you a miracle?” She watched him carefully, her head slightly tilted to the left, studying his expressions. He grabbed a new cigarette, gently tapping it against the box as he spoke. 

“Doctor Foster is old and behind the times. Did you know he was the last man in Birmingham to have electricity in his house?” He sighed and scratched his brow with his thumb, pushing the edge of the bandage out of the way “He thought the toxic fumes would poison him in his sleep” 

Lottie snorted. She failed to understand how a man scared of electricity gave credit to this new physician. “Okay, I understand it. Doctor Foster is afraid of progress, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t good at what he does” Charlotte wondered if her reasoning would find home in his brain or if she just wasted saliva talking to the walls “But this man? Thomas, don’t you find it at least a bit suspicious? Did you even question him on where he got your medical file from?” Nothing made sense, that after they checked her background before even summoning her for a mere interview, they didn’t hold the same standard to the man who would be juggling Thomas’ health in his hands.

He didn’t acknowledge her concerns, obviously. In fact, he seemed to not have heard them at all. He turned his wheelchair towards the double doors, the sunrays warming his skin as he closed his eyes, dried up blood still glued to the side of his face and clinging to his beard. He brought up the cigarette to his mouth but never made it quite there, hovering just an inch away from his lips as he stared out towards the vast woods. 

“The doctors make progress every day. They create new medicines, new treatments, they heal more and more people every day. If one doesn’t help you go to another, and another, and another until one does what others can’t” As Charlotte approached him slowly, she noticed he had a sort of dreamy look in his eyes, and for a moment she worried he had gone too hard on his nighttime visit to the morphine bottle. But the dazed gaze didn’t come from opioids. It came from hope. Endless, boundless, foolish hope.

And it worried her to no end.

Charlotte crouched next to Thomas slowly, her hand coming to rest in the crook of his elbow. Surprisingly, he didn’t shake her away; perhaps he didn’t even notice her at all, lost for a moment in a daydream of miracles and a bright future.

“Thomas” Soft words, pleading even, fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt “Think this through, think carefully. If something sounds too good to be true, then it is too good to be true. If this physician is such an eminence, then why is he not sharing his discoveries in the Medical Society of London, or being named director of a large hospital? Why is he not speaking before the King and being put in the list of honours of the year? Why is he seeking his patients instead of them flocking to him?” She shook his arm, hoping to shake his senses too “This is a scam, Thomas. He is a liar. I am sorry, but you will not get better, and you know it Thomas” 

Those last words hit the sensible fibre in him. He shook Charlotte off with such roughness she lost her balance and toppled back, landing on her ass on the floor. The dreaminess had cleared from his eyes, swapped back to his usual coldness and the everlasting hint of anger, anger at the world and destiny and everything and everyone that had led him to that state.

Thomas pushed open the double glass doors with his fingers and rolled his wheelchair forward. The sun framed him, making him seem like a shadow stepped out of golden light. He lit the cigarette at last, puffing out the smoke in rings. He leaned back his head, as if relaxing to take a nap, but his eyes remained open, focused on the clear skies. He spoke the next words softly, but they resounded loud and clear for Charlotte.

“I will walk again. I know I will” A long drag of the cigarette “And if I don’t, then there is nothing left for me in this life”

[zeezelweazel]

i love love your blog!!! could you write a oneshot of best friend! lottie pining over fem! reader and confessing after she gets jealous when a guy flirts with reader at the party?

Lottie Mathews| I'll be yours, if you'll have me

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Thank you so much!

I've read a few fics like this with lottie so I hope this didn't turn out to be too similar to them

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"Ok Lottie, I love you but there's no way you're wearing this shity dress that you stole from TJ Max to Jeff's party. The whole damn school is going to be there!"

Lottie groans and puts that dress to the side while pouting. For a rich girl your taste is very shity Matthews, you're lucky you're cute.

"You only talk shit because you look good in everything."

You giggle at your best friend's childish behaviour and take her hand to pull her towards the closest. All of the deliberate fashion advice that you give her doesn't register to Lottie's brain, her head is already full of you and how gorgeous you look in this outfit and how your make up is flawless and how soft your voice sounds and how silky your hair looks and-

"Earth to Lottie? Do you like the blue skirt or the grey one with this top?"

"Um the blue for sure."

You only nod at her and continue looking through her accessories. Lottie is already stumbling with her words and you haven't even gotten to the party yet. She can practically hear Taissa's voice in her head. 'She's literally head over heels for you just confess to her already'.

"Easier said than done." She mumbles quietly as she stares at you trying to envision a pair of silver earrings with the outfit you've assembled and her insides feel warm.

When you arrive at the party, only 30 minutes late, majority of the people are drunk off their asses. You and Lottie move through the crowd keeping eachother in sight so you don't get lost. Now, when it comes to parties the Yellowjackets usually are spread around. Van and Tai are most likely having a make out session in a random room at Jeff's house. Speaking of Jeff, him and Jackie are probably together and where Jackie is Shauna has to be nearby. Nat is with her friends and Misty is probably not even here.

You and Lottie share a look and mutually decide that it's better to just hang with eachother for now. You enter Jeff's house and like you expected there are tons of people there, talking, dancing and drinking. Speaking of drinking...

"Hey Lot, will you go grab us some drinks? I'll try to look if any of the girls are around here."

Lottie just nods and makes her way to the kitchen where the drinks are, leaving you alone in the crowded living room. After you took a good look at all the people and didn't recognise any of the girls you decided to head towards the pool. That's usually were all the popular girls are and by extension the jocks and if the jocks are there Jeff, Jackie and Shauna must be as well. Sure enough, you spot the three of them sitting in the side of the pool. You start to head to them but someone calls your name and you stop in your tracks. It's a guy from the baseball team, his name is something like Martin..?

He cuts your path to your friends by getting in front of you and starts complimenting your outfit.

"You look so good in that... urm whatever it is! Even at school you always dress so nice. It seems like you know what fits you perfectly. You know what would fit me?"

You suppress a sigh as you heavily contemplate on saying no and just walking away but since Lottie isn't even here yet, and this guy has no chance at all you decide to humor him.

"What would?"

He chuckles and moves closer to you bringing his hand on your chin.

"You, of course."

You can't really hold your laugh this time as a giggle slips through. Unfortunately for you the boy took that as approval of his horrible flirting and got closer as he wrapped his arm around you. At this point you were ready to push him off you hear someone shout from behind you.

"Hey get your hands off of her Markus!"

The boy instantly turns around to look at a very pissed off Lottie coming towards you. She doesn't even wait for him to say anything before she tugs you on her side and glares at him.

"Get the fuck out of here. Now."

You can't help but be surprised at her aggression as you keep looking between her and Markus. Lottie rarely got so angry. As Markus leaves embarrassed Lottie is still following him with her eyes. You look at her face, trying to study her expression.

"Um, Lot? What was that?"

She looks at you surprised, as if she just now realized how obvious her jealousy was. She can even see Jackie and Shauna looking at her with a questioning look.

"Nothing, he was just being creepy and I helped."

You fold your arms over your chest and look at her with a 'do not bullshit me Matthews' look.

"You went like full beast mode there Lot. I've only seen you get like that, like, twice."

Lottie can't handle your questions or the looks from her teammates and there are just so many fucking people in this stupid pool area. So without another word Lottie just storms off, leaving as fast as she came in.

You follow after her as you keep calling out her name. You are even more confused now. Why did she get so angry at that boy flirting with you? And why did she get so defensive when you asked her about it?

You eventually manage to catch up with her in what looks like a guest room. She's sitting down on the bed and looks up at you with e defeated expression.

"Well damn Matthews now you really have to tell me what the fuck was that."

Lottie takes a deep breath and closes her eyes. There's no way out of this now, she knows that much, but still she's scared of telling you how she feels. She can't bear the thought of loosing you. You're the most important person in her life. The one who understands everything when it comes to her parents and her schizophrenia and all that comes with that. You're a good person so she knows that you won't be disgusted or anything but just seeing that pitying look on your face as you try to gently reject her would break her heart. Well it's not like you have any other choice.

"I um... I was jealous." She can see how you're even more confused now but thankfully you let her continue. "There's a reason why I never like anyone you date. Even when they're good people. It's because I get jealous. And I get jealous because well, I like you."

Your eyes widen for a moment and then soften as you look at her sweetly.

"Oh Lot, I like you too, you know that right?" Lottie is so surprised but excited to hear you say that, she almost can't believe it. "There's no way I would let any stupid boyfriend, or girlfriend, come between us. We're best friends."

Best friends

Of course, how did Lottie ever think that you'd like her like that? She feels frustration bubbling up in her chest. You didn't even understand what she meant. Well if she's going to confess might as well do it properly, so she can get rejected properly as well.

"I want to be your stupid girlfriend!"

She doesn't even mean to shout but her words shake you anyway. Holy shit Lottie fucking Matthews said she wants to be my girlfriend?! You are too busy with your internal panic to notice Lottie being on the verge of tears. All you see is a blur passing by you and heading for the door.

Oh hell no, you're not running away again.

You manage to grab her wrist before she makes her escape and spin her around so she's facing you. You don't waste a single second as you grab her face and bring her down so your lips meet in what definitely seems to be the best kiss of your damn life.

Lottie immediately gets the memo as she puts her hands on your waste. It's impossible to kiss for much longer because both of you can't stop grinning. When you pull back, you take a moment to just look at your girlfriend.

"I think we need to thank Markus for this."

"Oh fuck no."

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[monstrousgourmandizingcats]

For the first day of Lottielee Weekend I'll be following the "afterlife" prompt and writing a brief meta on why I think that, if one is at all open to a non-naturalistic reading of the show (which one should be), it just makes the most sense for that to be the "real" Laura Lee, in some sense, in "Old Wounds."

The big thing we have to ask is--what are the death realm scenes trying to communicate? In the big picture, it's pretty clear: the Wilderness is an all-encompassing space and force in these women's lives, and not even death gets them out of their fated connection with It. Or, somewhat more optimistically, perhaps the Wilderness isn't as black (or as green) as It is painted, and the death realm scenes show glimpses of a slightly gentler, but still uncanny and frightening, side to It. In both of these readings, Laura Lee's behavior in "Old Wounds" departs significantly from how these scenes normally go; Laura Lee, Jackie's psychopomp who in "Sic Transit Gloria Mundi" behaves in much the same way that Jackie herself does to Shauna in "Qui" and Lottie (who isn't dead yet) and Javi do to Nat in "Storytelling," here instead forces Lottie out of the death realm when she would really rather just stay there with her, compelling her to return to the world of the living. Paul does this with Ben as well, signaling Ben's rejection of/by the Wilderness and whatever big-picture fate the Wilderness represents or entails, but the tones of the respective scenes are enormously different. Laura Lee, unlike Paul, is resolutely protective; as soon as she notices that Lottie is shivering (i.e. that Lottie is still alive), her tone changes immediately and she forces herself to do right by Lottie by pushing her away.

The behavior is different enough from anything else we see that it makes sense to view it as a different entity, or possibly to see the Wilderness-psychopomp Laura Lee as consistently a distinct being from "It," whose behavior towards Jackie and Lottie differs because Laura Lee's relationships with those people were different when she was still alive. It's possible that some of the difference between Laura Lee and Paul is down to acting or directing choices rather than the script; Jane Widdop's trembling lips get to me every time, as Jane imbues their character with a clear sense of struggling against her own desires to protect and safeguard the girl she loves.

Even so, this is still in the text; this is still how Laura Lee is behaving within the episode that we see on our screen, regardless of whether it was a writer, a director or editor, or Jane and/or Courtney who decided to have her behave that way. If the Wilderness generally is real, whatever "real" means, then this separate entity is likely real and likely genuinely separate, and in that case it being (some form of) the real Laura Lee is the most parsimonious possibility. It is also the most touching and emotionally compelling possibility, which remains true even if we're skeptical of the reality of what we're being shown in the death realm scenes generally. Even from a purely "rational" (scare quotes because this is a misnomer) way of looking at Yellowjackets, it is simply easier and more rewarding to be invested in and care about Lottie in this scene if one supposes that she is interacting in some way with a real aspect or facet of the girl she loved and lost.

[0shewrites0]

THE HEART WANTS WHAT IT WANTS

S2 | Gary/MC | 2700+ words | @0shewrites0

synopsis | Gary is genuinely happy with Maeve, but Lottie doesn't believe he is being honest. She is jealous of Maeve and angry that Gary ditched her for Maeve. Together with Hannah she thinks about how she can test him, or rather how she can make him regret that he ever coupled up with Maeve. She wants to remind him that she - Lottie - is the one he really wants.

prompt | rewriting Operation Nope @litgwritersroom

genre | fluff. non-canonical. rated T.

author’s note | I've never written for Gary before, so I wanted to challenge myself. I'm sorry in advance if I didn't capture his character properly, but I tried anyway. And it was fun to write him. I like fluff with Gary so much🤍

"UGH!" Lottie feigned retching and rolled her eyes.

Startled, Hannah looked up, following Lottie's gaze, and her eyes widened when she saw Gary and Maeve in the outdoors gym. Gary was doing push-ups while Maeve was underneath him. Each time he lowered himself to the ground, he pressed a kiss to her lips and then pushed himself back up.

Maeve giggled, her face flushed as she barely managed to look into his bright blue eyes that gazed down at her, and his lips twisted into a grin. Small beads of sweat formed on his forehead and chest, but he kept going, his muscles tensing, his strong arms braced on either side of Maeve’s shoulders.

Both Lottie and Hannah stared at them, bewildered - Lottie because she still couldn't believe that Gary had chosen Maeve over her, and twice, and Hannah because she couldn't for the life of her imagine lying under a guy, having to endure his panting, the sweat trickling down his face and onto her own, and getting sticky, sweaty kisses.

What was hot about it? Ew! She shuddered in disgust, averting her eyes and looking at Lottie instead. "That's disgusting, isn't it?"

"Mmm..." replied Lottie absentmindedly, her gaze still fixed on Gary, her eyelid twitching nervously as she clenched her teeth in annoyance.

"Lottie," Hannah tried again, putting her hand on Lottie's arm and squeezing it gently, "stop watching them. You'll feel miserable."

Lottie scoffed, "Oh, I'm miserable already, thank you very much." But she turned her back on them and turned her attention to Hannah, frowning and pouting. "I just don't understand why he would choose her over me. When we came in he didn't even notice her, he didn't step forward for her!"

Hannah clamped her mouth shut, knowing this was going to be one of those endless rants about how Lottie thought she was the perfect partner for Gary, and she decided to just listen and nod her head in agreement. There was no stopping her anyway.

"Are you even listening to me, Han?" Lottie suddenly snapped, glaring at Hannah with her emerald eyes.

The latter nodded quickly and forced a smile, "Of course I am. And I agree, I don't get it either."

For a moment Lottie watched her suspiciously, then waved her hand dismissively. "It's like I don't even exist anymore!" She turned back around, fixed her gaze on the gym and was annoyed to see Gary still doing push-ups and kissing Maeve. "What is it about her? I thought he liked opinionated women, someone who could talk back, but with her it's like she's the complete opposite. Always all sunny and happy, always trying to keep harmony and peace. It's so boring!"

"Maybe we should do something to get him interested in you again?" asked Hannah quietly, almost not daring to say anything because she didn't want to make Lottie any angrier than she already was.

"What did you just say?" Lottie jerked her head around to stare at her, and Hannah wasn't sure, but it seemed like her eyes were shining. Like she was feeling hopeful again.

"I don't know, but if you think he's just forgotten you, maybe get him to remember you. We could test him and find out if he really likes Maeve that much or if she's just the easier option."

"The easier option? What's that supposed to mean?" Lottie narrowed her eyes again and scowled at her.

Hannah swallowed quickly, "I just meant that with her, he doesn't really have to try to make it seem like they're a good couple because they're so boring. Nothing ever happens, they haven't even had a fight yet. And maybe he's taking advantage of her because he knows she'll secure him a place in the finals? He could be playing the game..."

Lottie scoffed sarcastically, "I highly doubt the guy is smart enough to do anything like that. I mean, he's a crane operator. Doesn't take much cognitive ability, does it?"

Hannah winced briefly, wondering why Lottie even wanted him so badly if she thought so poorly of him, but she quickly brushed the thought off. She's just angry...

"But," Lottie put one of her impeccably manicured black fingernails to her chin and tapped it thoughtfully, "you do have a point. Maybe I can make him regret ever coupling up with her."

"Do you have a plan?" inquired Hannah hesitantly.

"Not yet, but I'll come up with one!"

••••••••••••••••

Gary stepped out of the shower, feeling refreshed and full of energy after his workout, dried himself off and couldn't help smiling when he thought of the visual of Maeve lying underneath him, beaming at him with flushed cheeks. She was not his type at all, at least not on paper, but lately he was wondering if maybe he had been wrong about his type all along. After all, he was already thinking about what his nan would say if he brought her home. And he was bloody sure she would adore her.

Maeve was laid-back, easy-going, happy, and she always managed to put a smile on his face, too. He felt comfortable around her, he didn't worry so much about his physique, and he caught himself no longer wondering so often if she thought he was hot. Because the way she looked at him, her sparkling eyes that lit up whenever he entered a room or came into her field of vision, and her lips that twisted into a genuine smile - it made the butterflies in his stomach go crazy.

And the way she touched his body delicately when they were alone, the way she gently squeezed his biceps or brushed her fingers over his pecs as if he were a work of art -

Gary shook his head sharply and forced himself to stop daydreaming like that. He softened around her, he could feel it, and part of him liked it, but he couldn't lose his cool completely either. He couldn't let goosebumps cover his body just thinking about her. It wasn't like he was already in love with her, or was he?

He scoffed softly, concentrating on getting ready, then made his way downstairs. He was jogging through the large, open lobby when he saw Lottie lounging on one of the big couches, stretching her body luxuriously, almost like a cat, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he had just entered the same room. His eyes raked over her figure for the briefest of seconds, then he cleared his throat, "Well, hello there."

Lottie lifted her head, gave him one of her piercing looks that made him feel extremely uncomfortable - and not in the good, sexy way - and gave him a lopsided grin. "Just got out of the shower, huh?"

Gary just nodded wordlessly.

When she realised he wasn't going to say anything more, she rolled her eyes, and sat up, crossing her legs and resting her hands in her lap. "How's it going? Is Maeve everything you ever wanted?"

Gary raised an eyebrow and came over to the couch facing her, propping his forearms on the soft backrest. "Where did that come from?" he asked suspiciously.

Lottie grinned and clicked her tongue, "Just asking. Because it's still early days and all that, you know."

"Yeah, I guess so..." murmured Gary, not breaking eye contact. "You happy with Bobby then?"

She burst out laughing, throwing her head back dramatically and wiping the non-existent tears from her eyes. "What do you think? We're hardly the next great romance."

He nodded curtly, "Fair enough. Bobby's more of a mate, isn't he?"

"Yeah, literally. We get on well, but there's nothing more between us."

He sensed she was trying to get something out of him without having to ask him directly, but he wasn't going to make it that easy for her. He wasn't blind, he had noticed both her and Hannah staring at him when he had done one of his training sessions earlier where Maeve had joined him. He didn't know exactly what her problem was, but he was wary.

"All right, I'll just come out and say it," she finally relented, standing up and walking towards him. Gary remained silent, waiting for her to continue, grinning inwardly. There it is.

"Are you really happy with Maeve? I remember you telling me what your type was on paper, and it's definitely not her..." She scanned his face for a reaction, but he gave her none. It wasn't long before she was standing right next to him, putting a hand on his bicep and adding, "I just worry about you. You don't seem yourself."

He scoffed, but quickly disguised it as a cough and thought to himself, Yeah, right. You’re worried. Of course you are.

"Listen, Lottie..." he began, but she interrupted him. "I just want you to be happy, you know? And I want you to be honest with yourself. What does your heart tell you?"

He tilted his head, only now realising how terribly close her face was, her familiar sandalwood scent wafting around him, her piercing green eyes boring into his face, trying to read him. "What does my heart tell me?" he asked, trying hard not to grin smugly.

"Yes, like..." she placed the hand that had been resting on his arm seconds before directly over his heart, then continued, "Is it telling you to keep trying with her, or is it telling you to weigh your other options a bit? We're only ten days in, not even halfway through the month."

He thanked the heavens that his heart was beating normally, that she was unable to raise his heart rate even though she was so close and her whole being practically flooded all his senses. He would have thought it would be more tempting if she were practically begging him to take her back, but there was nothing.

Sure, she had been fun to be with, she was a good kisser, and aside from all the weird spiritual, esoteric stuff, she was cool. But he had never felt the spark with her. The butterflies. Not like he felt them with Maeve now.

"So what does your heart tell you?" he deflected, suppressing a chuckle when he realised he'd caught her off guard.

She pulled back and shrugged, "Well, there are definitely better options for me than Bobby."

"Yeah? Like who? Lucas, maybe?"

Lottie raised an eyebrow and huffed, "Please, not even if he was the only option. He's hot, of course. But apart from that, he's not my type. I'm here for love, you know? Not just for a summer fling."

Gary nodded solemnly, then added, "Does Bobby know you're grafting on me?"

She flinched, surprised by his sudden directness, and her cheeks flushed. She tilted her head to the side, her long blondish-pink hair covering the side of her face so he couldn't see her, then murmured, "Weren't you listening? It's not going anywhere. It's not like he'd mind."

"So you are grafting me," he stated dryly. "Why?"

When she didn't answer, he continued, "I'm happy with Maeve, alright? And I think my heart is telling me to keep pursuing her. I'm sorry things aren't working out between you and Bobby, but I'm here for love too." He pushed himself off the back of the couch and walked past her to the glass doors that led out onto the lawn. Hand on the handle, he turned to the side and added, "Also, jealousy doesn't suit you, Lottie."

With that, he stepped out into the bright sunshine, his eyes scanning the lawn and his heart skipping a beat when he spotted Maeve lying on one of the inflatables with her eyes closed, floating across the pool.

He headed towards her, but halfway there Hannah stepped in his way. "Gary, have you seen Lottie?" she asked, sounding oddly nervous.

"Yeah, she's inside," he gestured towards the villa with his thumb and was about to leave when she grabbed his arm and stepped close to him, whispering, "She really likes you, you know? I know she's not so good with feelings, but she misses you."

She nibbled her lower lip anxiously, the grip of her slender fingers felt too tight around his forearm, and for a brief moment he didn't know what to do. His eyes fell on Maeve, still dozing on the inflatable, and suddenly he couldn't get away from Hannah fast enough.

He put his hand on hers and gently but firmly loosened her grip, then replied in a lowered voice, "First off, she should have told me herself. Secondly, that's nice, but I don't miss her. I really like Maeve a lot. And since you're playing Cupid, will you tell her?"

Her eyes widened in shock and her mouth dropped open. Gary seized the moment and left her to it. Falling into a light jog, he approached the pool where he immediately dived in, the cool water engulfing his body.

Well, that was fucking weird, he thought to himself, wondering if he should talk to Maeve about it. He couldn't see her getting angry or upset, to be honest, but it was the right thing to do, wasn't it?

When he came back up, inhaling deeply and sweeping his wet hair out of his forehead, two curious brown eyes were staring at him, twinkling mysteriously, and there it was again - the rumbling in his stomach.

"Hi!" Maeve exclaimed, flashing him a toothy smile, the bright freckles on her nose and cheeks dancing and sparkling in the sun, and he returned the grin. "Hey, love. Alright?"

Her grin widened and she nodded, then tried to get off the inflatable and into the water. Gary chuckled and looped an arm around her waist, finishing the job for her. She giggled as he pulled her against him and her arms automatically wrapped around his neck. He leaned in and touched his lips to hers. A warm, comforting feeling spread throughout his body as she returned the kiss and he felt her lips move against his.

Eventually, he pulled back and decided to come right out and say it. "Love, I have to tell you something," he began and his heart beat faster when her nose wrinkled and she frowned.

"Okay?" she hummed, and there was no trace of worry or jealousy in her voice. It put him at ease almost instantly. He brought his palm to her face and brushed her cheek, then smiled reassuringly at her, "Nothing happened, but I thought you should know anyway." She just nodded, her warm eyes open and honest as she looked at him. "I think Lottie tried to come on to me."

She raised an eyebrow, and he noticed one corner of her mouth twitch slightly. But she said nothing, so he continued, "And I think she's jealous. Of you."

At that, her eyebrows shot up to her hairline and Gary couldn't suppress the chuckle that escaped his lips. "Of me?" she asked, and her voice sounded so full of disbelief and genuine surprise that once again he couldn't help thinking that she really was the perfect match for him. "Yes, love, of you."

She shook her head, crinkling her nose again, and pouted, seemingly thoughtful. "Oh, is it because you chose me over her? At the last recoupling?"

He chuckled again, "Yeah, and at the recoupling before that too."

"Oops," she giggled and her cheeks flushed again, a lovely rosy hue.

Gary closed the distance between them and kissed her on the nose as the butterflies rioted in his stomach.

"And what did you say to her?" she finally asked softly.

He shrugged nonchalantly, "I told her I liked you, not her."

The blush on her face deepened and she rolled her eyes playfully, but where her chest pressed against his, he could feel her heart beating harder at his words.

"You're not going to leave me hanging now, are you? Do you like me too?" he probed, a smile playing around his lips.

She smacked his arm and rolled her eyes again, "Of course I like you. I thought that was obvious."

He laughed, "Just wanted to make sure we were on the same page."

She nodded and smiled, "We definitely are."

Then she bit her lip and glanced down at his lips for a moment, but it was long enough for Gary to catch it and before she could lean in, he did and captured her lips in another deep, lingering kiss.

A tiny moan escaped her lips as he tightened his grip around her waist, and this time he didn't even try to stop the goosebumps that covered his whole body.

Maybe I am in love with her after all...

[winter-tospring]

I want to be in a book club 🥺 problem : I cannot find one. Looked for recent posts on here and only found one seemingly private book club.

*sigh* personally I'm usually most interested in:

- female authors writing Sci-fi (want to expand after discovering my adoration for Ursula K Le Guin)

- non fiction, self help/studies kind, not really memoirs

BUT I haven't been reading a lot and the point of a group is to change that and expand where my reading goes towards 🥺 And something I particularly want for this year is to read in French because I am losing vocabulary and it's panicking meeee. So I've been looking at classics but I'm open to more, especially if other people are excited about a specific book, It would be cool to read along.

ALSO highly interested in reading from more countries (as a side companion to educating myself a bit on cities of the world at random.)

Easier to say what I'm not interested in? YA, memoirs, historical fiction, horror (though Gothic is good with me), thriller, high fantasy.

I think what I want to read next is Piglet, by Lottie Hazell, so if anyone was interested in that, I could start there for a group read along. Genuinely let me know if you're interested, I'd be delighted.

[hollyvorpahl]

Also, for the wip ask game: please pick one you really want to answer!

12. What inspired this wip?

A Vow from the Winter Lord: I've wanted to write a Faerie romance story based in a Winter Court for a long time. A lot of Fae Romance is Dark Court or Spring Court. Winter is my favorite season and when I was a kid I got a chunk of my winters in one of the most beautiful winter areas, Alaska. There's just something magical about the quiet world in a snowy winter. It takes the littlest amount of light and makes the world glitter. I had bits and pieces to a story but not enough. It wasn't until I read Spinning Silver by Naomi Novik that I started to piece more together. I liked the book but it wasn't really what I was looking for. So I was finally able to put together what I wanted from a Winter Faerie romance. 

The Dot Duology: This one started as a DnD side thing for myself. Almost a decade ago, I started playing DnD. My first character was a Halfling Wild Magic Sorcerer named Beth. She liked to cook. My best friend and I would rp a story with her and an oc my friend made that was set in our own world. This actually got me back into seriously writing on my own again (long story). Few years later, a module for DnD came out called Waterdeep: Dragon Heist. I played a revamped version of Beth that I renamed Dorothy Lynn Pippetwhistle (the last name was from an Asmr video by Goodnight Moon Asmr) or Dot. Her whole backstory was she wanted to open a tavern then expand into an Inn. The DM indulged this completely. We'd do quests then in the downtime when others were doing stuff for their factions, I was building business for my tavern. It was the most fun I've ever had playing DnD. I started to write about Dot on my own to relax at night after a hard day. Nothing serious. But then I was talking to someone about it and they got super excited about the idea. See, I didn't think there was a market for something like this. Low and behold, there is! So I started to develop it into a serious wip.

A Princess Guide to Love and Necromancy: This one is gonna reveal something about myself I hope you're ready for. For a very long time, I've loved the idea of a Princess in a tower falling in love with the Dragon guarding it. I also really like this little scene I have in my head where a knight comes to rescue the princess but she fights him off because she's happy in the tower with the dragon. And the dragon comes running, clearly worried and she's all annoyed because this is the second time this week that she's been attacked in her home by a jackass in a can. I matched this with the aesthetic of a DnD character idea I had for either a Necromancer Wizard or Shadow Sorcerer. Picture Lottie from Princess and the Frog but medieval and wielding scarier forms of magic. I like the contrast. I love all of my stories but some of them feel like I'm writing more for the reader. This one is the one I write for myself. Idk if anyone would ever want to read it but I do. It's the one I also feel the most guilty for writing. It feels like a waste of time because it's the least likely to sell. I have this enormous sense of...duty (?) about my writing being something that'll make our lives easier and any time I'm using to work on something that won't sell is time wasted and I'm a failure. Just to be clear, this is all me. My husband encourages me to write what makes me happy and tells me that he thinks it'll sell really well (I don't believe him). I work full time, so does he. Our bills are paid and everything is fine. My brain just hates me.

[succulentsunrise]

Dear Sun!!

I'm sorry I'm late, but big congrats to your 100 followers milestone!! ♡ Your event seems so fun and well thought out!

Could I please join in the fun with:

Prompt request 16 for Zenon Zogratis!

Please take your own sweet time to write this and your writings are beautiful (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

Thank you so much!! You are definitely not late, it's quite alright!!🥰

This was a hard one! 😁 I wasn't sure if you wanted platonic or romantic relationship, so I left that part vague. You can decide yourself which one it is 🥰

Companionship

Genre: Fluff

Note: Lysa is a made-up town in the Spade Kingdom, since we don’t know much about the place. Similarly, “Spadeian Malamute” is made-up dog breed based on Alaskan Malamutes!

It was another chilly day in the simple Spade Kingdom town of Lysa. There was never a day when the snow would melt, and so you were wearing your warm jacket and a woolly hat. Ahead of you, connected to you by a harness and a leash, was Emmie, a big fluffy Spadeian Malamute. Her sister, Lottie, was busy digging a scent out of a bush with her big nose. They were energetic dogs, and the shelter was happy that you and your companion were so ready to take them for a walk.

A glance at your companion would easily make someone think that he was not perhaps most amused by this activity. Zenon stood calmly with Lottie’s leash in hand, his gaze disinterested by her digging. The fact was, however, that this was not the first time you had taken him to the shelter to walk Emmie and Lottie. In fact, you two walked them rather often. Zenon, no matter his cold outlook, liked dogs.

“They are devoted to their cause,” he had said with a serious tone once.

It was perhaps not as grave a statement as he would’ve liked, as he had at that moment been rubbing the fluffy belly of Lottie.

You had grown rather close with the two dogs. No one really paid attention to them due to them being very high maintenance and both of them having an injury that prevented them from doing sled-work: Emmie had one leg amputated, and Lottie could barely hear. Still, both of them were very affectionate dogs, who loved to walk and socialize despite their drawbacks.

“What if we adopted them?” you asked suddenly, glancing at Zenon.

The dark-haired man didn’t turn his head towards you: only his eyes moved. He pulled from the leash once - a sign for Lottie that it was time to go. He had taught the dog to respond to his commands well.

“I already walk them almost daily,” you continued, knowing that your companion would stay quiet until he’d have a reason to say something. “Emmie could protect me if something would happen--”

“They are not guard dogs,” Zenon commented coldly.

He was right, of course. The Spadeian Malamutes were a very friendly breed, despite many attempts to make them more fierce. It was like it was part of their souls to be trusting. It would be useless to appeal to the emotional side of the matter. Cuteness wouldn’t move Zenon unless he would’ve also wanted to adopt the dogs. You continued walking, keeping attention on the dogs.

“It would be easier to go on walks like this, if they lived with us,” you tried again.

Zenon stayed quiet. One point for you.

“Plus they are great for keeping warm.”

Once more that side-eye. Half a point for you?

“Tell me if you’ll at least consider it?”

You could see Zenon close his eyes. There was a small tug at his lips, as he smiled. He didn’t do it very often, but you were close to each other.

“I’ll consider it,” he ceded.

Zenon had probably thought of it himself already, if you knew him at all. Otherwise he wouldn’t give in. You kept walking in the snow, the two dogs walking obediently ahead of you. The next time you shared a glance, the smile had disappeared from his lips - but you knew there was a small warmth in his eyes.

It’s up to you, Emmie, Lottie, you thought. Cuddle him until he gives in.

Almost as if they could’ve heard you, the dogs looked back at you two, their adorable eyes messaging genuine affection.

[schnaphan]

the ultimate 2020 masterlist ayeeeee! 🎉

2020 has been a busy year. i wrote and published a bunch of phanfics, adding up to 124,433 words. i’m also currently working on my ospbb fic which adds another 25k to the word count! on top of that, i wrote a fic i’m going to publish in the next few days, adding another 10k. almost 160k in the phandom! 🎉

that’s enough for the stats. here are the bebes.

SMOL BEBES ring my bells ~ You try to hide it I know you do When all you really want is me to come and get you ~ my contribution to the wipswap 2020! i didn’t have a wip to do a proper exchange but i was very happy to help out as a pinch hitter ♥ Rain ~ When their dinner date gets ruined, the boys need to find a way to make it work. ~ my first collab in YEARS. @jorzuela and me decided to spend one evening writing, posting the result right afterwards. the ideas were all over the place but we managed to build a neat little story ♥

IMPROMPTU CHALLENGE what’s a great idea if you want to participate in nanowrimo? yep - spend a big part of october writing. i had a lot of fun, tho! ♥ it was really awesome to try out so many different stories and oooooof returning to short stories helped me SO MUCH. cliffhanger It happened so out of the blue. One day, Dan's twin brother was gone. He didn't return home that night - he never did. The sea took him and Dan was left alone. Just like that. the emperor's new clothes Dan picked a special outfit for their dinner date. Phil doesn't quite know how to deal with it. with you by my side Dan and Phil spend their first night together. But Dan can’t fall asleep. family of ten Having a serious conversation with your biggest daughter is rather difficult. Especially when she wants to know if you regret having children. drifting Dan is in love. But his love is confined to a place with blue dim and an electrical hum. exclusive content: murder Meeting with this guy from the internet is kind of risky, kind of sketchy. But it's not just some random guy, it's Phil. So Dan feels safe. Is he right, though? scars of luck Luck. That's what Phil calls it. But Dan knows better. cutting ties Phil likes Dan a lot, he really does. Still, he can't let him know more about his life. But apparently, Dan didn't get the memo. you still have a wish Dan wants to have anonymous sex. Phil agrees.  trampoline Whenever Dan is overwhelmed, he runs. Running is the one thing that makes him feel free, the one thing that clears his mind. So it just seems natural to run from Phil. pandemonium The world collapses. And Phil is gone. forever. The waves keep rolling in. Forever. Phil is by Dan's side. Forever. dornröschenschlaf On a trip through the city, looking for picturesque places, Phil stumbles across a seemingly enchanted place. But who knows, maybe he's part of the fairytale too. blessed with a curse everything i touch turns to stone. so wrap your arms around me and leave me on my own. phantom butterflies Dan still got butterflies in his stomach when he sees Phil. But what if they're only phantom butterflies? drown my demons Whenever Phil feels all alone, he knows he can rely on Dan. But maybe he shouldn't. And apparently, demons know how to swim. whiffs of autumn The world is an amazing place. Look at it instead of your flaws. - It doesn't work all the time. But autumn makes things easier. just Dan and Phil are friends. Not ‘just’ friends - they’re friends, there’s no doubt about that. And yet, Dan feels like he’s missing a piece. 知己 知己 - zhiji: the one who knows me. soulmate. confidant.  THE BIG STUFF

A Song for Lottie ~ Dan was quite happy without Phil in his life. But then, Lottie came along. Lottie, the annoying girl with a sweet tooth and a bad mouth. And you just can't say no to Lottie. Even when she wants you to meet Phil again. ~ sooo i volunteered to be a pinch hitter for the phandom reverse bang. (just in case you can’t tell - i love pinch hitting ♥ just hit me up - pun intended - whenever you need a pinch hitter. i’m a sucker for challenges ♥) and i did what you do as pinch hitter - begin a multi-chapter fic with several storylines. wait, you usually don’t do that? damn, nobody told me :D the story has been on a break for a while but i’m planning to write the next chapter this week! doppelt. ~ The big wheel in Manchester. The big wheel in another Manchester. Phil's disappearance. Finding Phil - twice. Dealing with Doppelgängers. That's not exactly what Dan expected from their first meeting. But in the end, being with Phil is all that matters. ~ i’m not only a sucker for pinch hitting - i also love projects. this time, i took part in the phandom big bang. the first ideas were super ambitious and nobody could understand them and i couldn’t wrap them up so i broke it down a lot. i guess i shouldn’t try to enter metaphysics into a fic - especially considering i have no clue about metaphysics. :D thriving. ~ Sometimes, you meet someone who changes your life. Someone who becomes your best friend. Someone who becomes more to you than just a best friend. Someone who helps you thrive. ~ my actual contribution to the phandom big bang - the one i signed up for. :D i spent so much time looking up flowers, oof. i ended up with 19, one for each chapter and aaaah i just love that feeling so much when everything adds up. common theme, chapter names, even formatting... i still enjoy it. :D MISC writing and posting all these fics wouldn’t have been possible without someone i met in 2020 - my beloved phandom beta @jorzuela ♥ we got to know each other during the phandom reverse bang in summer and i already told you 32763249 times that i was so glad i picked your artwork because it brought us together ♥ thanks for your patience, time, energy, everything ♥ and f... you for stealing my commas. they are essential OKAY 😤 last but not least... i got nominated twice for the phanfic awards?!?!?!!?! i’m still speechless, i can’t even put into words how much it means to me. since i started writing, it has been a dream of mine to win an award but i’ve written off that dream long ago. so it came as a huge surprise when i saw the nominations. y’all are insane, thank you so so so so so so so much for nominating me! ♥ i got nominated in two categories -  A Song for Lottie in “best angst” and  doppelt. in “best scifi fic”. if you want to vote for me, here’s the link! i would be more than happy to receive your vote ♥ so - that’s it! 2020 wrapped up in a neat post. thanks to everyone who was a part of my journey 🎉

[prettywordsyouleft]

A Kissing Game (Choose What I Write Story)

Pairing: Lee Hoseok x reader (ft. Im Changkyun)

Genre: university au / romance / fluff

Trope: friends to lovers

Warnings: alcohol

A/N: Thank you for waiting for this second Choose What I Write story. Were you expecting it to be Wonho in the end? It was a really tough race (as you can see if you check out my other post after this), but I had a lot of fun coming up with this idea!

Word count: 3274

You could feel the effects of the alcohol washing over your nerves, settling you into the party environment. It wasn’t often that you attended the multitude of campus parties held as a university student, but you had promised one of your friends Mandy that if you scored well on your bio-chem midterm that you would turn up tonight to her small gathering.

However, you weren’t quite as drunk as you needed to be for the game that just began. You watched on as the empty bottle spun around, inwardly chanting for it to land on someone else. Thankfully it did, allotting you extra time to chase any remaining nerves away with the rest of your drink.

“Okay Lottie, Jake, you know the deal!” Mandy exclaimed and you eyed the two as they leaned over and kissed. You blinked, was that it? Here you were worrying over some game that most people played during high school. It wasn’t even in-depth. A peck and that was it. Your confidence boosted you slumped back, smiling lazily. You had this. You would peck everyone at this party with ease if it was this straightforward.

And when the bottle landed in your direction, you didn’t even hesitate to kiss Changkyun across from you, grinning when you pulled back. The kiss barely tasted of anything other than alcohol and despite the pink blush on his cheeks; you were feeling pretty good about it.

Until the bottle landed on you both again.

“This time you have to do more than just a peck!”

“Wait, really?” you blurt out and then looked over at Changkyun who was downing more of his drink. You shrugged and smiled at him. “I mean, that’s no big deal, right?”

You were quick to lean over and kiss Changkyun again, feeling his tongue run along your bottom lip as you placed a hand on his neck to steady yourself. Your cheeks were flaming with colour from all the obvious attention of you both kissing for this long and you pulled back, settling into your seat.

“Wow, you two have major chemistry!” Sunri mentioned, nudging you energetically. You jostled about and lost your balance a little, still feeling over-warm. Mandy suddenly got a phone call and put a pause on the game, which you were grateful for. You stumbled off to the bathroom and tried to splash cold water on to your cheeks to sober up. When did you drink so much? Sure, you had reached out for another bottle and was taking sips now and then in between the others kissing during the game, but you hadn’t felt it had been this excessive.

“Need to go home,” you told your reflection, grinning at it before reaching into your pocket for your phone. After sending a message to your best friend Hoseok, you staggered out of the bathroom and back to the festivities. You would simply wait here until Hoseok turned up and took you home.

Everything would feel much better soon.

The game started up again and after another couple of rounds, you were chosen once more.

As was Changkyun.

“Oh, this is some fate like shit calling out for you both!” Jake boomed as several members of the circle giggled or hooted. He gestured to you both sloppily and then slapped his knee. “Seven minutes of heaven should be the next step!”

“Eyyy, this is a simple kissing game,” Changkyun refuted, shooting you an awkward smile. “There’s no need-”

The chanting began and you glanced at the fellow bio-chem student and stood up. You then looked around for the best place to do this in. Mandy pointed to the hallway and after nodding, you slowly made your way down to the hallway closet.

Changkyun sighed. “This is so stupid.”

“Don’t you want to kiss me?”

“No, it’s not that,” he said, waving his hands about. He definitely seemed more coherent than you were and logically thinking further ahead to how this could affect you both. He slumped against the wall. “Isn’t this what we played when we were younger?”

“Me and you?” you asked confused, racking your brain for a time where you had kissed Changkyun before this.

“No, I meant… never mind.”

He seemed a little frustrated with his explanation and you were growing impatient about getting this over and done with. You were no kissing extraordinaire, but you also weren’t opposed to kissing him either. You had already done so twice tonight and it hadn’t been that bad. Plus, you didn’t have much time before you would leave the party and didn’t want to chicken out.

“I’ll be back, okay?” Changkyun smiled before going out the front door and you nodded, swaying slightly against the wall. The door soon opened again and you grinned, reaching out for his shirt.

“No more waiting,” you announced, dragging him into the closet and shutting it with a giggle.

“Y/N, just-”

You pressed your lips upon his, feeling how frozen they were. You worked them a bit before they thawed enough for him to kiss you back, and a reckless abandon took you both over. Hands roamed, moans echoed around the coats and umbrellas surrounding you both. You felt hot and cold all at once, gripping on tightly as your knees wavered and the kisses grew from one into the next, each surpassing the previous one.

You were certain you would die from a happy delirium in this coat closet. The way Changkyun’s lips felt on yours were different now, fuller, more passionate. As if they had been holding back all night long from lavishing you in what seemed to be a slow burn finally releasing. You didn’t know you could be kissed like this.

You didn’t want to stop being kissed like this.

You didn’t know what happened after it ended or how you got home either. When you opened your eyes again, it was mid-morning and with the intense pounding happening within your head, you were certain you were experiencing the worst hangover you had ever had in your entire life. For a moment there, you didn’t even know how you had gotten this drunk. Slowly, the more you blinked away the remnants of your slumber, the easier the puzzle came back together, groans emitted with each memory. You cursed the alcohol, the game, everything.

Until you got to the sensation of that final kiss. Did Changkyun play coy with you? The way he spoke before the closet make-out session and the way he was with you after was as if he were two very different people. Changkyun had been hesitant, even awkward with the idea.

And then his lips had transported you to an entirely different realm of desire you had never experienced before, ever.

It wasn’t fair that it had ended. Or that you only had the memory of such a kiss. You were kind of disappointed too. As much as it was a heart-changing embrace, you couldn’t see yourself dating him. He was a friend, someone you mixed solutions with, not saliva.

Even if it was the best kiss of your life.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of bed, taking it easy for the entire day. Hoseok wasn’t home due to work commitments and you enjoyed having the apartment to yourself as you did nothing much other than attending to your wicked hangover and eat copious amounts of food in hopes it would ease some of the self-inflicted torment.

The next day, you were up early and on a mission. You had convinced yourself that you had to at least thank Changkyun for kissing you like that. Game or not, it was a true blessing and he deserved to know it too.

Hoseok chuckled when he saw you. “Today you don’t look like a zombie.”

“How much longer must I put up with your quips? I get it, I deserved the pain. But you didn’t know how my stomach felt and I was certain at one point I was dying. Perhaps I should have and then become an actual zombie to torment you with.”

Your best friend scrunched his nose up at your suggestion and then handed you a glass of the healthy smoothie he had just pulsed for you. It was your turn to crinkle up your nose in disgust at the bitter taste, shooting Hoseok another look. “Broccoli?”

“It’s good for you. Blueberries too. They help with memory retention.”

“What memories do you think I’ve lost?” you wondered as you took another gulp of the smoothies, much to your own chagrin.

Hoseok folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head to the side. “Do you not remember throwing up in my car on the way home?”

So it was Hoseok who brought you home. You took another gulp just to be grateful for his efforts.

Hoseok continued. “Or how many times you exclaimed you had been kissed by a God? That you wanted to never stop kissing? You honestly looked like a fish pursing your lips together every few seconds.”

“A… a what? A fish?!” you exclaimed right as he went to pick up his own smoothie. You snatched it away from him, holding it to your chest protectively. “None for you… you don’t need to remember anything else!”

He chuckled as you stormed out of the apartment, drinking the second smoothie along the way.

When you finally arrived at your morning lab class, you were anxious. You planned to tell Changkyun how you felt, but you didn’t want to admit it in front of everyone else. Thankfully when you arrived, Changkyun was the only student currently there and you relaxed as you approached him. The fellow student glanced up, a slight tinge of pink across his cheeks accompanying his greeting.

So he did remember.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Listen, I uh, I was hoping to talk to you today actually.”

Your heart started to pound. What if the kiss was just as good for him that he wanted to date you? You hadn’t really thought of Changkyun that way no matter how many times you replayed that darkened kiss that relied on touch over sight. But now with his open fidgeting with one of the test tube stations he had begun setting up, you decided you might just roll with it. Who knows, you could maybe match him really well.

“Oh, I was hoping to talk to you too.”

Changkyun’s cheeks flushed. “Yo-you were? Well, uh, let me go first, okay?”

“Sure.”

“It’s not that I didn’t want to kiss you or anything,” he started and you nodded softly. “When the game started, it was harmless, you know. It was uncanny how the bottle kept landing on us.”

“It really was,” you mused, smiling as you thought back to the night.

Changkyun cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his head. Was he always this adorable when he was nervous? Your smile grew as you watched him. “You’re nice Y/N, I like you as a friend. We get along really well that way… I just have someone else who I really like and whilst we’re not dating yet, I just felt wrong going to that extreme of kissing you.”

Oh.

He didn’t enjoy it. Your smile faded.

Which made Changkyun scramble. “I’m sorry, I must have seemed like a coward just leaving you there and not kissing you but-”

“Wait,” you cut in, eyes now wide. “What did you just say?”

“I’m sorry?”

You shook your head. “No, the rest of that sentence.”

“I didn’t kiss you, Y/N. I went home.”

Outwardly you were still.

On the inside, however, you were anything but. The words echoed over and over in your brain, accompanied by the feeling of the intense kissing you had relished in. You had been drunk but not completely gone either. You were certain you had been kissed. In fact, you knew you had been. The one thing you noticed when you woke up the next day that confirmed it wasn’t a simple drunken stupor or dream was the tell-tale bruising on the side of your neck. The one you had covered up this morning with foundation.

The area you were now pressing your fingers up to.

Blinking, you finally looked up at the male before you who looked as if he was about to burst from waiting too long for your response. “You, you didn’t kiss me?”

“No, I’m sorry-”

“But someone kissed me. It was the best kiss of my life.”

Changkyun immediately deflated and then quirked an eyebrow at you. “Really?”

You nodded. “I definitely took someone in there with me.”

“Well, it wasn’t me,” he confirmed, grimacing slightly. “Sorry to disappoint.”

You waved him off, your dejection over his lack of a romantic confession now downplayed by the mystery of your kisser.

Just who was it?

You reached out to a couple of the party-goers who all confirmed that you never returned from your supposed seven minutes of heaven. When Jake went to break you and Changkyun apart, there was no one in the closet at all. They all had assumed you both chickened out and ditched the party or went back to one of your houses to do more than just kiss.

It frustrated you immensely to know absolutely nothing.

You attempted to rationalise it. Perhaps you had really dreamed it up. And the mark on your neck was a drunken accident. It wouldn’t surprise you, to be honest. What you had been reliving did seem too good to be true. When you arrived home that evening after classes, you were convinced you had the most imaginative mind in the world.

And when you saw Hoseok in the kitchen again, you cringed at what he had mentioned this morning. An image of a fish cropped up in your mind and you groaned heavily.

“What’s with you?”

“Don’t ask,” you stated, shaking your head, now resigned. Slumping down into a chair, you held onto your head and rapped your knuckles gently along one side of it. Nothing made any sense, so you would simply give up on understanding it. You had more important things to focus on, like the stack of assignments on your desk.

Hoseok approached the table with dinner in tow, surprising you with yet another meal. You glanced up at him and smirked. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he replied with a small smile that told you otherwise. “Just thought you might be hungry.”

“More broccoli?” you complained, looking up at him and shaking your head incredulously. “I know how much you preach on about this being a superfood, but honestly, too much of a good thing can be bad you know.”

“Just trying to help you boost your brain functions after all that alcohol.”

You looked to the other food on the plate before you and shoved it away. “You’re not funny.”

“What, fatty fish is good for you and your memory too.”

You eyed him carefully, noticing how Hoseok avoided your gaze. Instead, his eyes were now attached to your neck, and he knitted his brows together. Slowly, you started to click the puzzle pieces together, and instead of saying anything, you reached out for the food in front of you.

Hoseok smiled.

“So, everything on this plate is really good brain food, huh?”

“You should know, being a science student and all.”

Rolling your eyes, you picked at a flake of fish. “I’m not studying nutrition science, Hoseok. It seems you are though.”

“I just know some things.”

“You really do, huh?” Chewing your mouthful, you avoided his now burning gaze on you, taking your time before continuing. “I guess since you take such good care of your body on a regular basis that you know a whole lot more than I do. Or at least, remember it all.”

You heard him clear his throat awkwardly as you stabbed at a raw broccoli floret. Finally, you glanced up at your best friend, wondering why you hadn’t clicked it was Hoseok who had kissed you until now. After all, you had texted him to come pick you up. He was the most obvious choice after Changkyun. Did you just gloss over him because he had been in your life since you were five? Your first kiss was taken by him when you were eleven, in a kissing game as well, ironically. You had cried and exclaimed if he ever kissed you again, you would ditch him as a friend forever.

Had he remembered that minor detail as he had you pressed up against the assorted coats? You revisited the kiss once again and realised that the care you felt from him as an adult had an underlying loving notion attached to it. Of course, as best friends, you loved each other. But you knew that kiss meant more to him.

It meant a lot to you as well.

“Thanks for dinner,” you mentioned suddenly, picking up your plate as if you had forgotten something important. Hoseok snapped back in his chair at your rash movement and watched you carefully. “I’m going to finish up in my room. I have so many lab notes to organise and want to take full advantage of this brain food to get it all done.”

You didn’t wait for a reply, holing yourself up in your room for the rest of the night.

After much deliberation, and a little of study, you ventured back out into the main domain of your apartment, finding the lights off. You knew Hoseok went to bed not long ago, hearing the tell-tale signs of his bathroom routine. You had purposely waited for this moment.

Stepping softly over to his bedroom door, you twisted the handle as quietly as you could, slipping inside and tip-toed over to his bed. He was laying on his side and you crouched down, smiling at him before you leaned in and pressed your lips to his.

Just as the first time, he didn’t respond immediately, but when he did, you were drowning within the instant emotions pressing into you. His arms reached out for you, drawing you up and on top of him, not breaking the kiss whilst you shifted into the new position. You tasted him as your tongue slipped in to mingle with his, your moan muffled and swallowed by Hoseok. The air was growing thin and you gasped when you finally pulled away, balancing yourself by gripping onto his shoulders. He had an arm around your waist and the other reached to brush your hair away from your face.

“I thought you didn’t remember,” he breathed and you turned so you could kiss the palm of his hand that caressed you gently.

“Admittedly, it took me some time.”

“The food helped?” he teased and you giggled, nodding softly. Hoseok stared at you for a moment and then shook his head. “I didn’t break the promise we made as kids. You told me if I kissed-”

“I know, it’s me who had kissed you first both times now.” Hoseok smiled before pulling you down so your lips were mere millimetres above his. “Now, it’s my turn to kiss you.”

“You won’t regret it?”

He smiled warmly, and you mirrored the expression, renewed anticipation growing. Hoseok brushed your hair back again and then whispered, “I’d regret never kissing you again so I’m going to make sure I do it so often that you’ll only be able to think of my kisses.”

He didn’t realise, it was all you had been thinking about since the first one. Well, technically your second together.

And there would be many more to experience too.

_________________

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[fluorescentpipedream]

Been learning some things about Dayton the last few days 

It’s a little long so I don’t want to clog up anyone’s feeds

Details:

Age: 43

Family: 

Parents - Abigail and Ethan Foster. Sibling: Charlotte,Lottie (25)

His parents are still alive though they don’t really acknowledge him much.

His little sister, Lottie, comes to visit him sometimes. She makes jewelry out of recycled materials and gave her brother an earring she made of a broken beer bottle, repurposed as a diamond. He wears it on the right side, though when asked why he only has one, he says “she knows I’ll lose the other one, so this way it’s more special” 

He has said he’s a little jealous of his younger sister because “she gets to be normal, and our parents hate that there’s nothing of hers that can capitalize on. Her jewelry business is a fun thing to put her through college, they can’t steal her fortunes and lie to her that it’s in her best interest. I’m envious of her because of her normalcy. How stupid is that?”

Relationships:

Dayton was married when he had his seizure, his husband divorced him shortly after the incident, not being willing to take care of him. 

He’s had a few girlfriends but he seems to prefer the company of men

About:

Dayton is highly dependent on drugs and/or alcohol to get by on the outside world because he just can’t seem to function without them when he’s trying to live on his own. He’s lived at the Center in the French Quarter off and on for 4 years, before that taking a stint in jail for public urination and intoxication. He also spit on the arresting officer. Writing about the incident later by saying “he finds it odd that Mardi Gras is legal public drunkenness for the amusement of all but only a few days after, in the stench of Bourbon Street’s parties where trickles of human depravity are being washed from the street, suddenly it’s deplorable and must be cleansed from sight. Though they might have gone easier on me if I hadn’t spit in the cop’s face. Oh well.”

Dayton’s initial slip into this strange state was after a seizure caused by his excessive drinking. The world was easier to handle if he was drunk or high all the time, he didn’t feel like he had to be as smart as he is, when he was riding a drug high. He collapsed at a Mensa event when he was 32, and during the grand mal seizure caused brain damage and for his IQ to slip from the 200s and down into a more average number. He still seems to be very intelligent, though he doesn’t really draw attention to it anymore. After his husband left him, he had apparently only shrugged, taking his ring off and handed it to his little sister, telling her “unconditional love is a joke”

The relationship with his parents finally came to light as well, and he outright told the first social worker when they had suggested he could recover in his parent’s care that they wouldn’t actually care for him anymore. Their free ride now had strings attached and he doubted that they could stand to care for him, since he was pushed to always provide for himself, since he was “smart enough”

He has the potential to live on his own, he just doesn’t have much of a drive to do so. When he’s left on his own he gets distracted and forgets to do even the most basic tasks. He means he forgets to eat, sleep, etc. At the Center, “I’m safe from myself”

Personality:

Self-loathing and tends to put himself down a lot

Suicidal although Lottie seems to be the only reason he won’t go through with killing himself, he loves her too much to leave her with that stigma of “genius brother takes his own life following years of drug and alcohol abuse

A very dark and, at times, unsettling sense of humor. It makes people uncomfortable and his general disinterest in people’s reactions make it worse

“Former” sex addict...he puts it in quotes. As long as he’s not drinking or using drugs he tends to abstain from dangerous sexual liaisons but once he’s under the influence it’s whatever, with whoever and however they choose. “I’m surprised I’m not infected yet”

He’s been with both men and woman and has no preference towards either. “It would be nice to have someone love me...I’m not in a position where I could be the one providing care to another, sadly dealing with me may be a full time job and not one most people are equipped for. I won’t “get better” over time, and crave companionship sometimes even over the obsessive desire to fade from this world”

Interests:

Serial killers. He absently makes profiles for those he reads about or watches reports on TV. He frequents websites that have details on true crime and likes to try to figure out cold cases, for fun. He’s actually figured out several, calling in anonymous tips to hotlines.

-Seriously- considering typing up his profile for the serial killer in San Francisco (Paul) and sending it to Theo deWinter, the agent on the case. He’d learned about the case online and after reading what he could find about the murders and the way the bodies are discovered, he really does want to help. He is concerned they wouldn’t take much consideration in the profile though because of his current mental state. It might hurt his credibility. Still, he says “better not eat anything you buy from Rascal Butcher shop on Main” 

Piano, originally it was something he was forced into learning but now that he’s older he enjoys it quite a bit more. He sometimes sits in the grand entrance of the Center and plays on nice days

Writing. Kind of like a cross between Dean Koontz and Stephen King with some Lovecraft like monsters in there. He posts some of his shorter pieces on his blog

Has a tumblr blog called A Damaged Beautiful Mind. Most of the time he answers questions but a few years ago he wrote a rather long post about the inability for criminals, drug addicts and generally anyone who has been arrested to vote in national elections explains a lot about how the entire system is set up so only the elite are allowed to partake (excerpt at the end)

He loves watching psychological thrillers, horror movies and true crime documentaries

He used to want to be a federal profiler and even has degrees in forensic psychology and criminal law

Connections:

Arthur Powell sometimes invites him over for dinner in his room at the center.

He told Arthur he really liked his sister, Frankie once, promising it was “nothing creepy” he just thought she had a beautiful soul and her amazing talent was going to take her places. Arthur has her make him a mirror glaze birthday cake this year that was too beautiful to eat (he did though, only when Lottie came to spend the day with him and she cut into it after taking a picture of it with his phone.)

One of the orderlies brings him coffee and beignets on Saturdays and they talk. Dayton generally believes they’re just checking up on him to make sure he’s had a shower or eaten something recently.

Doctor Snow is his therapist, though lately he feels like he has to search for things to discuss with her. She’s expecting her first child, so the visits are brief and involves how he’s feeling, if he’s still having suicidal thoughts...etc.

He used to be a bit of a lech, being Mike Tomlin’s first foray into gay sex, pinning him to a wall at the Mensa event, the same night as his seizure.

Excerpt from his latest blog entry about election and voting rights, or rather the lack thereof

Any system which segregates the unmentionables and undesirables from the view of the rest only perpetuates the degeneration we’ve been seeing as a whole in this nation. It’s “progress” that the United States lived in a seemingly “Golden Age” under Barack Obama, but if one were to pull back the veil they need only skim the surface to realize, that was a moment of lapse, before the true waves of deceit, corruption and greed rushed back in again.

The years that Obama served in the White House only appear now as the receding of water before the inevitable tsunami. As a nation, we will always boil back down to the nagging truth of George Orwell in Animal Farm; “all animals are created equal, but some are more equal than others” Those that are detestable, or deemed unworthy by social standards, like any number of the “criminals” locked away for crimes enumeration, have been stripped of their ability to stand up for their beliefs.

Their voices are silenced, because by daring to stand against the societal norm, to lash out at the Thomas Moore, Utopian falsehood of America, they proclaimed loudly that the world is not only unfair, but stacked against us from the moment we take our first breaths. Were the US to return rights to the seemingly uneducated, drains on society, they would see real change. But that, in the essence of the truly corrupt leading the imbecilic masses, will never be the case. These commanding forces, like Nero the pig, would rather lead the masses into decisions that have been made for them all the while claiming that it is the people who lead themselves to this. And he can fix it all.

[ravenqueen89]

the fading home

A Patron reward for the wonderful @princessbatteringram, who graces me with allowing me to play with her amazing OCs. This time we have a return of Lottie/Bela with an appearance by their adopted nonbinary kiddo, Sparrow. 

Fandom: Dragon Age II

Title: The Fading Home

Rating: Gen

Pairing: Isabela/Lottie Hawke, mostly family feels

Summary: She knew the moment the sky shattered into spirals of green that her life would change because of it but, as usual, knowledge makes nothing easier.

Notes: Isabela’s POV (she’s not dealing well with Lottie having to leave to get to Skyhold), rambling, many feels.

Word count: 1763

also on ao3

Day is breaking, and so is the sky. The cottage is at the foot of the mountains, and winter rushes down with its frozen breath, coating everything in delicate patterns of frost. Isabela doesn’t normally wake early, but there is nothing normal about today. She knew the moment the sky shattered into spirals of green that her life would change because of it but, as usual, knowledge makes nothing easier.

Two letters, one from Varric and the other from Alistair were delivered days ago, sealing the upheaval of Isabela’s life. She knows her wife, but she’d hoped the whole running into danger to save the world part of their lives was over. She still craves adventure and always will, but she is no longer willing to accept the risk of loss. She has built a life from the ashes with Lottie, and it has become her normal. Varric occasionally teases her in his long-winded letters about settling down, and once upon a time she would have hated that and would have done everything in her power to prove him wrong, but now what she hates is the thought of all of this disappearing.

They’ve spent years on ships, her and Lottie, but now Sparrow is in their family too. It was Isabela who suggested spending some time on land, surprising both herself and her wife. Ground under her feet has ceased to suggest a lack of freedom, but actually craving some time in which nothing would happen other than domesticity is still a new concept. Despite the newness, Isabela has enjoyed every second, up until the sky broke and shattered all the illusions of futures she’s created in her mind.

She wants to be back in bed, to hold on to Lottie until the day passes with her staying, but Lottie must leave, and Isabela must get used to her absence once more. She’s forgotten how, which seems irrational, but after all they’ve been through she thought they were owed at least this. She’s also forgotten that being married to Lottie Hawke  means that nothing can ever stay calm. Isabela’s restless thoughts have turned to superstition a few times, worrying that she should’ve stuck to the sea and sailed with Lottie and Sparrow far away, where no messenger could reach them, but she knows the Champion’s duties are inescapable. She knows what Lottie is, knows what Lottie must do, knows that her wife will always need to help in some way instead of letting the world crumble into dust, but Isabela still resents it at times. She resents it most now that she’ll have to watch Lottie go without Isabela at her side. They have Sparrow’s safety to think of now, and so Isabela must stay back from the fight, and it’s so very jarring that Isabela hasn’t been able to taste anything other than fear and bitterness for days. It must be done. She hates it, but her need to protect her family must be divided now.

The breaking sun does little to alleviate the chill in the wind, and Isabela knows she should go back inside, but the cottage is old and creaky and Lottie and Sparrow need their rest so Isabela keeps pacing around the cottage in disarrayed patterns. She’s wearing so many damnable layers but she’s still shivering, so she walks faster, frost crackling under her boots. She keeps looking back at the cottage like it’s about to be assailed. It’s been their haven, a beautiful comfortable escape. It was always meant to be temporary, but it was never meant to be stolen from them too soon.

Isabela has woken late every day until now to the sound of Lottie and Sparrow laughing, chasing each other through the garden and then bursting through the bedroom door with arms full of late autumn flowers and sweet-smelling herbs. The cottage belongs to some old acquaintance of Lottie’s, someone grateful for some favour that Lottie has bestowed, someone with another house in the middle of civilisation. Isabela found herself enjoying the peace of isolation, cooking spicy Rivaini stews while Sparrow and Lottie experimented with tea leaves they found in beautifully painted boxes laden with dust, mementoes of other people’s past lives.

Isabela told Sparrow stories in the firelight until they fell asleep and Lottie carried them to bed, returning by the fire to rest her head in Isabela’s lap. They’d talk of everything and nothing, and drink brandy, and kiss, and Isabela hadn’t thought she’d have a home on land, but she realised her home would be found in any place she shared with her wife. And now, Lottie is going somewhere Isabela can’t follow.

Despite having been part of their family for a while now, Sparrow still goes from sleeping to awake instantly, like they still constantly need to watch their own back. Lottie is the one who usually gets out of bed around the same time, but Isabela is always aware of both of them, even when she sleeps in as much as she likes. She knows that she won’t do much luxuriating in bed in the coming months, but her instinct alerts her to movement in the cottage. She’s almost next to the door, so she can hear the floorboards creaking, following Sparrow’s steps as they bounce from one edge of the hall to another, hurriedly making their way to the bedroom door, which opens with a bang. Isabela can hear Sparrow saying ‘mama!’ followed by a muffled sound of protest from Lottie, and it’s heartbreakingly normal in a way that makes Isabela walk around the cottage once more before heading inside.

Isabela sat next to Lottie well into the dark of night, planning the moves ahead and how to react according to what would come. Isabela knows how long to wait without news until making her way back to sea. Lottie knows where to write and where to go if everything goes to shit. They’ve done as much as they could within the magnitude of everything they don’t know and can’t control, but it gives Isabela little comfort. She’s so tired of fighting the battles of others, so tired of living in constant threat. It’s all she’s wanted to leave behind, but now she must watch, and plan, and not let herself be consumed by fear. She can’t protect Lottie, but she can protect Sparrow.

When she finally goes back inside, warmth envelops her, but she can’t quite rub the feeling back into her hands. The sound of the door alerts Sparrow, who’s ensconced in a pile of blankets on the bedroom floor, with the hat they’ve once more stolen from Isabela crookedly placed on their head.

‘Captain!’ they say, and Isabela rolls her eyes but Sparrow has never been impressed by that, not even the day they met. Sparrow tends to call her ‘Bela’ like Lottie does, but their uncle Varric kept calling Isabela ‘captain’ until Sparrow started imitating him, to his endless amusement

‘Sweet bird, I can’t be a captain, nor an admiral, if I am without my hat,’ she says, and by the time Sparrow reaches out with both hands to hold on to the hat, Isabela has danced around them and reclaimed it.

Sparrow laughs, loudly and gleefully, their tooth gap on display, and Isabela is painfully reminded of how young they are and how much they need the safety of a home and a family.

Lottie’s head is buried under a mountain of pillows, but her hand is tense where she’s clutching the blanket Sparrow hasn’t stolen, and Isabela’s heart sinks further when she realises Lottie’s warmth will be gone from their sheets by evening, so she walks out of the room to hide the expression on her face.

Sparrow falls after her into the small kitchen, enticed by the idea of preparing breakfast for ‘mama’. They accompany Isabela’s cooking with a terrible Fereldan song that no one sees her smile along to, and then Lottie joins them. She distracts Sparrow by drawing ice petals along the window, her magic almost crackling in the air, and Isabela desperately wishes she could preserve this forever but she can’t.

They all pick at their food, and Isabela doesn’t watch Lottie saying goodbye to Sparrow. She will not cry.  She is an admiral of the seas, a leader of ships, and she will not cry.

She walks outside with Lottie while Sparrow stays in the warmth of the cottage. Lottie will walk to the nearest village, where a mount is waiting, and from there to the new Inquisition and a broken sky and an uncertain future dealing with the ghosts of the past.

They end up standing in the middle of the road, Lottie looming over Isabela with her unfair height advantage and Isabela still wearing her hat, feeling more powerless than she has in years. Lottie’s hair is shorter than it used to be, but it still falls into her eyes and Isabela still brushes it away, and her hands will miss Lottie, her entire body will, let alone her mind.

‘Bela, I-‘

Isabela kisses her instead of letting her finish because they’ve never been ones for words on momentous occasions. There’s desperation in the kiss and in their hands, Isabela accidentally brushing against the sharp end of Lottie’s staff in her haste to hold on to her shoulders, Lottie grabbing her hips and picking her up in that way that Isabela scolds her for to hide how it makes her knees turn weak.

They breathe together until snow starts dancing around them on the wind and Isabela is shaking again, and Lottie has to go because light fades fast, but Isabela has to force herself to let go.

Lottie looks at her with those captivating eyes of hers and her kissed mouth, and Isabela has to let her go, has to stay behind.

‘Come back to me, Lottie Hawke,’ she says, trying to keep her voice steady when Lottie takes her hand and kisses her palm, her lips warm against Isabela’s cold skin.

‘Is that an order, admiral?’ Lottie asks, her grin trying its best to seem carefree.

Isabela laughs shakily and lets her hand linger along the pulse point at Lottie’s neck just to feel the rhythm of her heart beating.

‘If you don’t I’ll have to chase after you wherever you might be. You know I can’t allow mutiny.’

Lottie smiles and presses her forehead to Isabela’s and they share one last breath before Isabela turns, making her way back to the cottage, and refusing to watch Lottie walk away from her.

[chuffyfan87]

Growing Pains. Part 22a

Cowritten with @disastrousintention. Trigger warnings for discussion of illegal drug use.

-x-

The entire house was asleep, or at least that’s what Louis thought. He crept out of his bedroom, a pile of books in his hands and quietly walked along the hall. Reaching the stairs, he made a mental note of which floor board squeaked and climbed down them. He didn’t want to wake the house up, he’d be too embarrassed if anyone found out what he was doing. He cursed quietly when he ended up standing on the squeaky floorboard and found himself dashing down the stairs.

Lottie rolled over sleepily. "Did you hear a noise?" She mumbled to Tilly.

Tilly nodded, “Probably Em.” She mumbled back.

Louis reached the bottom step and listened out for any noise. Satisfied he hadn’t disturbed anyone, Louis wandered into the kitchen. As he reached the doorway, he dropped a book that hit the floor and echoed around the house.

"For someone so tiny she's so noisy!" Lottie grumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.

Tilly sat up, “Lottie? What if we’re getting burgled?”

"Someone else can deal with it." Lottie shrugged.

“Shall we call mum?”

"She's just finished a run of eighteen hour shifts - she won't thank you..!"

“Dad then?”

"I thought he was working..?" Lottie yawned.

“Shit! I’m getting mum! I’m scared!” Tilly got out of bed and quietly moved to the door.

"Wussbag!" Lottie teased.

“Shut up!” Tilly frowned and went out of her bedroom. As she reached the door of her parents room, she heard another thud from downstairs and pushed open the door. “Mum?”

"Mmm?" Duffy yawned.

“I can hear noises downstairs and I’m scared.”

"What?!" That got Duffy's attention.

“Noises downstairs. Like banging.”

"OK. You go back to bed and I'll go take a look. It's probably nothing."

“I’ll come with you?” Tilly swallowed nervously.

"There's no need." Duffy reassured her daughter as she reached for her dressing gown.

Tilly nodded and kissed her mum’s cheek before going back to her room.

Duffy crept down the stairs slowly. The light was on in the kitchen so she grabbed a shoe which she held aloft as she burst into the kitchen.

Louis jumped off his chair, “Bloody hell!!”

Duffy let out a startled squeal, not expecting to find her stepson in the kitchen.

They both just stared at each other for a minute before Louis moved to try and hide the things on the table. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

"You didn't, Tilly did." Duffy attempted to get her heart to stop hammering.

“Sorry.” He smiled sadly, “I know you’ve been working eighteen hour shifts so I didn’t want to disturb you.” He managed to close the notebook.

"She thought we were being burgled." Duffy smiled. "What are you doing?"

“Oh... Erm, nothing.” He looked down at the floor, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

Duffy stooped to pick up a book that still lay on the floor. "Looks like you dropped part of your nothing..." She remarked, handing it back to him.

He looked up and took the book. “You won’t laugh if I tell you, will you?”

"Of course not."

“I’ve been studying for my exams.”

"Why would I laugh at that? That's a good thing."

“Because I know people don’t think I can do it.” He admitted sadly, “But I want to go to college.”

"And you will."

He smiled. “Sorry about waking you up. I find it easier to study down here.”

"That's OK. I'll leave you to it."

“Goodnight Duffy, love you, sorry once again for waking you.”

She squeezed his shoulder and placed a soft kiss on his hair. "Don't stay up too late. You've got lessons tomorrow."

“I won’t, I promise.”

She bid him goodnight before heading back to bed, stopping on the way to reassure Tilly that they weren't in fact being burgled.

“Who was it?” Tilly asked as she lay on her side in bed facing the door. “I can sleep now, mama?”

"It was just your brother getting a drink. He dropped a cup." Duffy explained. "Yes, you've got school in the morning missy!"

“Love you mama.”

"Love you too."

It didn’t take Tilly long to fall back to sleep. As promised, Louis spent an hour downstairs studying before going to bed.

The next morning Duffy pulled Louis aside once the other children were at school.

He was just getting ready to go out. He was still anxious about taking trips on his own in case he bumped into his old friends and wasn’t strong enough to resist the temptation. “Yes Duffy?” He asked.

"After last night I was wondering if you'd like me and your dad to look into increasing your lesson contact hours?"

He nodded enthusiastically. “You and dad would do that for me?”

"Of course. You've shown that you're taking it seriously and committing to it."

“I’d really love that, thank you.” Then he paused, “That would mean more time at school though, right?”

"It would. But it would be like now - you'd still be with the teacher one to one."

He nodded, “Ok.”

"You're worried about spending more time at school?"

He nodded, “A little bit.”

"Is there a particular reason for that?" She asked gently.

“I worry I might be tempted.”

"Would it help if me or your dad drove you to school and picked you up after?"

He shook his head. “I need to face it. I can’t avoid it for the rest of my life.

"If you're sure..?"

Louis nodded. “I don’t want to ever use drugs again. But it isn’t always easy to avoid temptation.”

"It'll always be there but you have us to help you."

“I’m grateful for that.” He smiled.

"Its what families are for." Duffy smiled.

He smiled. “How are things with you?”

"I'm ok." Duffy smiled.

“Good.”

"Did you want a packed lunch or would you rather eat in the school canteen?"

“I’ll eat in the canteen today, if that’s ok?”

"Saves me a job." She smiled.

Louis opened his bag to stick in his textbooks, a comfortable silence between him and Duffy.

Duffy finished clearing up from breakfast. "What lessons do you have today?"

“Double English and Maths and Biology and IT.”

"Sounds like a busy day."

“Yeah it is.” He smiled.

"How do you feel you're getting on with it all?"

“Some of it is ok, some of it I’m finding difficult.” He admitted.

"Which subjects?"

“Physics I’m finding difficult and sometimes English.”

"It might be worth chatting to Peter about physics." She mused.

“Peter’s good at physics?”

"I know he's good at chemistry and I'm pretty sure he's good at physics too."

“I’ll ask him. Thank you.”

"That's OK. We may need to look into a tutor to help with the English."

“It’s not always but sometimes I find it difficult to follow what’s going on.” He sighed, “I think that’s me though.”

"I would suggest you could work with Emily's tutor but I'm not sure how she'd feel about that."

“Would it be OK if I asked Em?”

"I have no issue with you asking her."

“I will after school. If she says no, that’s fine. I’m sure I’ll manage.”

"OK."

“Thank you for the idea though.” He kissed her cheek before zipping up his bag. “I suppose I better get a move on.”

"Yes, don't want you being late!" She smiled.

“No, it wouldn’t look good.”

"Both me and your Dad are so proud of how much progress you've made these last couple of months." She smiled.

Louis blushed, “I’m really trying.”

"You are and that's wonderful." She smiled. "Now off to school with you!" She chuckled.

He smiled, “Yes Duffy.”

Duffy smiled as she watched Louis head out the house. She was thrilled that he seemed to be making such good progress.

Louis was desperately trying to be better. He was still awaiting an appointment with the mental health team. He hoped it would come soon because every now and then, he’d get some really horrible thoughts.

Arriving at school he was greeted by his English teacher.

“Hi,” He smiled.

"Good morning Louis. Did you manage to read the pages of the text that I asked you to?"

“Yes Miss, I did. I quite enjoyed the text.”

"That's good. We're going to work through some exam style questions on that section of the text today."

“I’ve been practising.”

"That's good. As you know you'll be given an option of three questions in the exam." She passed him a previous exam paper.

He took the exam paper and opened it up.

"Pick which question you want to attempt and then we'll discuss it."

Louis listened to the teacher’s instructions and began to read the question. He circled key words to help him.

He looked up briefly as his teacher sat down at her desk. She smiled before starting to work through marking some homework from one of her classes in the lower years.

Louis looked down at his paper and re-read the question: “What is the importance of Cathy in the play DNA and how does Kelly present her.” He smiled, he loved that play! He began to write his answer.

By the time his teacher told him it was time to stop he'd written two sides of A4.

He placed his pen down. He felt oddly positive about the experience! It wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.

"You're smiling." His teacher remarked.

“I am?” He blushed.

"Yes. I'm presuming you were happy with that exam question?"

“It wasn’t as scary as I thought it would be.”

"That's good. Exams shouldn't be scary."

“I’d really like to go to college Miss, so I know I need to pass my exams.”

"Well you're making good progress towards that goal." She picked up his paper. "Let's have a look through your answer now shall we?"

[lizzy-c807fanfics]

That Old Black Magic Ch.10

Image by @imagnifika

Killian Jones and Emma Swan didn’t meet under the usual circumstances but they had an immediate spark that ignited into a fiery relationship. Their complimentary life styles create the perfect partnership at both home and work. Can she and Killian keep up their lucky streak while navigating through the dangerous lives they lead? Find out in this Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire Mystery: That old black magic.

In this sequel two sorority girls have gone missing. Emma is on the case to try to track them down. Along the way she manages to piss off some of the wrong people adding complexity to her case.

FF    AO3

Read the first story Where There’s Smoke There’s Fire here! -

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A/N: Hello Lovely Readers! We are just getting started in this mystery. I hope you are enjoying it so far. I love writing this pair and having them work as a kick ass team is my favorite part of writing this AU. Thank you for your comments. They really make my day!  

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Ch. 10

She felt safe in his embrace, she couldn’t help but lean in as close to his warm chest as she could. His heart was beating slowly against her ear. The soft thumping sound had a way of calming her like nothing else could.  How was she going to tell him she’d been threatened twice within the span of an hour in the same room by different people after she’d already had her tires slashed earlier in the day? She clasped her fingers behind his back and squeezed him harder.

“Oof.” he puffed letting her know to ease up. “Still a little sore from the carry drills yesterday.”

She eased her tight grip and pulled back a little, catching the grin plastered on his face. He caressed her hair back over her ear and pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Are you alright?”

She tucked her face back into his chest. She wanted to stay in his warm cocooning embrace, but she knew time didn’t stop and those girls needed to be found. She sighed. “How about we get those drinks and I tell you about my day?”

He rocked her as he held her.” That bad?”

She breathed into his chest. “Yep.”

He held her for a quiet moment just taking in her sweet scent. He could tell this case was getting to her. She slipped out of his arms and gazed at him with her beautiful eyes shining under the station lights. “You ready?”  

He scratched behind his ear nervously as he remembered that he still had to tell her about the car. “Alright, let me grab my things and we can get out of here. I need to show you something. “

She raised an eyebrow. “Uh ok. Anything I should worry about?”

He grabbed his things from his locker and quickly stepped back to join her. He gently took her hand and entangled his fingers with hers. “Love, come with me.”

She loved feeling the warmth of his hand holding hers. She would gladly follow him wherever he needed her to go.

As they were leaving the firehouse she noticed they were walking towards an awesome looking black muscle car sitting outside at the curb. He slid his hand out of hers and pulled the key from his pocket to unlock the doors.

“What is this?” she asked.

“Well, I hope you don’t mind but I borrowed this car for you to use while the bug is getting fixed.” He said sheepishly.

“Uh, it was just a couple of flat tires. How hard could it be for them to fix that?” she asked.

He hesitated before responding. “I know you can take care of yourself but given that those damn Scots know your car, and that you are working on an important case, I thought I’d get you an undercover car to use until you’ve got things settled.”

She could see he was worried to tell her about this. He was standing there bracing himself for impact. Jeez, was she that abrasive? She knew he was worried about her and that he loved her. She had to give a little here, especially knowing she still hadn’t told him about the rest of her day. She let out a small breath and smiled. “I love it. Thank you. You’re right. I do need an undercover car.”

He seemed to visibly relax. “You do?”

She walked up to him, slid her arms around his neck gently and pulled him into a soft kiss. He happily pulled her in tighter deepening the kiss. She felt that kiss to her core. God, she needed him, and she knew she would have to wait to have a special moment with him. She gently pressed her hand against his chest and reluctantly pushed back lightly breaking their kiss. Releasing a soft sigh, she whispered against his lips. “I love you Killian. Thank you for trying to keep me safe.”

He kissed her gently once more. “What is it that we have to do again?” he laughed.

She pulled him by the hand. “Come on. Give me the keys, let’s see what this baby can do?” she grinned.

He was so relieved that she was thrilled with the car. He handed her the keys and she quickly ran around to the driver’s side to slide into the seat. He popped open the door and slid in beside her. She was in the process of adjusting the seat when he closed the door.

She turned the key in the ignition and the car jumped to life. “Whoa, this car has got some kick.” She exclaimed.

He grinned. “Oh, it does. I had it out on the back highway earlier and she hums when you give her enough gas. Why don’t you take her for a spin and see what she can do?”

She put her foot on the gas and pulled out onto the road. “This is going to be fun.”

He could tell that she had quite a day and was eager to let her tell him about it. Right now, the car was going to give her a different kind of stress release. He knew the adrenaline rush of driving an amazingly fast car.  They drove down the highway towards the back road he’d traveled earlier. He looked over to see her flaxen hair blowing in the wind and the determined smile on her face.

He turned on the radio and scanned the stations until he found some rocking music. “How’s this?” he asked.

She smiled. “Turn it up!”  

When they hit the open road, she pressed her foot to the gas. She forgot what it was like to drive a car with this much power. She loved her bug, but it didn’t have this kind of power.  She rubbed her hand across the top of the steering wheel.” You’re right, she hums!”

He grabbed her right hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss against the back of her hand.

The night wind blew through the windows whipping her hair back against the seat. She looked to her right and the love of her life was sitting next to her. It was one of the more perfect moments in her life. She slowed down the speed and pulled over to the side of the road.

“Had enough?” he asked.

She looked over to see his beautiful baby blues fixated on her. “Never, but now’s not the time and we’ve come to the end of the road.”

He could see the pain in her eyes and took her hand again. “I can see how this is weighing on you and that you are tired. If you need the time you should take it. You know as well as I do that when you’re tired you can make mistakes.”

She shook her head and looked town at their joined hands. “I know you are right, but I can’t stop now.”

He squeezed her hand. “I never thought you would. Just know I will be looking out for you.”  

She looked up and squeezed his hand. “That is one of the many reasons why I love you.”

He didn’t think he could get tired of hearing her say those words. “That will never change. You have my heart always.”

She did not want to come off this cloud. He managed to calm her with his gentle touch and his kind words. “I’m not sure how you do it, but I am already feeling better. Let’s see where we can get a drink around here. I still need to talk to you about the day. I have a lot of things to sort through and I could use your keen mind.”

He grinned taking pride in helping her feel better. “Of course. Head up towards the corner and turn left onto the main road. There’s a strip of restaurants and pubs that we could choose from.”

She put the car in gear and ventured back towards town. Soon She could see the distant glow of neon lights lining the road. It appeared that this part of town was going through gentrification. All the old buildings were slowly changing into some form of posh eatery. She slowed down the car as they got close enough to read the signs as they drove by.  Bo Peep’s Tavern, The Curly Mustache Pub, The Doll’s House, and Tiny’s Lair were in a cluster on one side of the street. The other side of the street still seemed to be under construction. It was much darker. She grabbed the first parking spot she could find to fit her new car. It was definitely easier to park the bug than her new undercover car, but she was certain it wouldn’t take her long to master it.  

She carefully examined her surroundings. “This might be a fun area to hang out. I’ve never been here.”

“They started the revitalization a couple years ago. Things didn’t go quite so well on that side of the street. He pointed to the boarded-up space on the opposite side of the street. “We put out a bad grease fire on the corner last year. It used to be Fryer Tuck’s Hut. A bunch of us came over here to Bo-Peep’s after to eat. It was just opening and they were happy to get the crew in for business. I haven’t been around since. Let’s pick one of these places and check it out.”

She scanned the street and the signs once more until she noticed that the least crowded place appeared to be The Curly Mustache. “How about we try that place? Doesn’t look to crowded.”

He pinched the corner of his mustache and pretended to twirl it. “Sounds good to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tiana wiped her eyes as she tried to adjust to the new surroundings. Their abductors did little to allow them to recognize who they were or to let them know why they’d been taken. She barely got a word out before the ether knocked her out.  Her face still felt like she had that sweet-smelling rag pressed against it. Lottie was still sleeping on the bed next to her.

She sat up slowly, still feeling the effects of being knocked out. She walked around the room looking for ways to escape. She looked up to see a tiny window in the cinderblock wall near the bed. She climbed onto the bed and tried to look outside but it was painted black to block their view. The only light in the room was coming from a neon light hanging over them. There was only one way to directly enter the room. It was at the top of a wooden staircase. She slowly crept up the stairs and tried the door knob. It was locked. She didn’t think whoever took them would be that stupid.

She slowly came back down and noticed that there was a takeout food bag along with two bottles of water sitting on a small table. Lottie began to stir and sat up holding her head. “Oh My Lawd, What Happened? Where are we?”

She moved to sit next to her friend. “They drugged us and moved us here. Looks like we are in a basement.”

“Ti, they just have to let us go. Why are they keepin us? I wish they would let me call Big Daddy. If its money I know he’ll pay.” asked Lottie.

Tiana looked sullen.

Lottie wrapped her arm over Tiana’s shoulders. “He’ll pay for both of us Ti. You know you’re my sister in every way possible.”

Tiana pat her friend’s hand gently. “I don’t know why we are here or why they aren’t telling us anything. At least they left us some water and some food.”

“Where? I’ve such a powerful thirst right now. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.” said Lottie.

“That’s because its possibly true. I don’t know how long we were unconscious. They’ve blacked out the window so I’m not sure what time it is.”

Lottie stood and looked around. “What’s that over there behind the screen?”

Tiana stood and walked over with her friend to examine it. “Well, it looks like there’s a toilet.”

Lottie looked horrified. “Oh my goodness, Tiana, this is just god awful. It’s so dirty!”

Tiana shook her head. “At least we don’t have to go in a bucket.”

“A bucket!” Lottie gasped.

Tiana wrapped her arm around her friends’ shoulders. “Come on, lets see what’s in the food bag.”    

Lottie grabbed the bag of food and waters. “She sat back on the bed next to Tiana. “Here you go, you need to drink this.”

Tiana gave her a partial smile. “Thanks.”

Lottie grabbed the water and cracked the bottle open. “I can see you worrying. I know how you are when you get like this. You said it yourself, we don’t know how long its been since we’ve eaten. Come on drink up.”

She huffed. “Lottie, this isn’t worrying about a final or how people like a new dish. We’ve been kidnapped. I think I’ve got a right to worry.”

Lottie hung her head and tried to hide the tears that were welling up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry Ti. I’m trying not to get hysterical and I’m so thankful you are here with me. I don’t think I’d be able to do this on my own.”

Tiana slid closer to her friend and threw her arm around her shoulders. “Don’t cry. I can’t help it. I’m just worried, that’s all. We can’t pretend that this will just go away.”

Lottie sniffed and wiped her tears. “I just wish my Daddy would find us. Kind of like when we were little girls and hid around the house.”

“Do you remember that one time we snuck into his office and hid under the desk. We fell asleep and they couldn’t find us. He was frantic and had everyone in the house looking for us. He came in and sat down at the desk to use the phone and we popped up.”

Lottie laughed loudly. “He jumped up, and screamed, cause we scared him so good. Then he picked us both up into a big bear hug. He was so happy to see us.” Lottie sighed. “I’d give anything for one of those bear hugs right now.”

Tiana leaned her head against Lottie’s shoulder. “Me too. Me too.”

~~~~~~~~~~

He pulled open the heavy wooded door to the Curly Mustache and stood back to allow her to pass through into the pub. She looked up and smiled. “Always such a gentleman.”

He smiled, following closely behind her. He immediately noticed that there was a mixture of baked bread and a heavy scent of lemon pledge as they entered the room. The wooden bar and tables were likely to blame for the lemony scent. A long wooden bar covered the main wall with semi-private booths along the surrounding walls. The door to the kitchen behind the bar had servers coming in an out with trays of food. The scent of fresh baked bread got heavier as the door opened and closed.

They were greeted by a perky petite hostess at the door. “Welcome to the Curly Mustache. Can I get you a table or will you be sitting at the bar?” she asked.

Killian surveyed the room. “We’d like a table please.”

She grabbed two menus and gestured towards the back of the room. “Ok, follow me.”

Killian gestured to Emma to proceed him. She turned toward him and shot a sweet smile before proceeding. He noticed that she was taking inventory of the room as they walked to their table. This was often something she did when she was deep into a case.

The hostess placed them in a table close to the back corner. It was perfect for a private conversation. Emma slid into once side of the booth and he took the seat across from her. Their hostess placed the menus in front of them. “Candy will be your waitress. Can I get you a drink while you are waiting?”

Emma piped up. “Scotch, neat please.”

“I’ll have the same.”

She jotted down their drinks onto a notecard. “Ok, got it. Be right back with your drinks.”

He noticed that Emma appeared to be very pensive. She was looking towards him but not at him. “So, Love. What did you want to talk to me about?”    

She appeared to come back to earth. “Uh, yes. I’m sorry. I spaced out there for a moment. It’s been quite the day.”

He grabbed her hand. “You’re with me now. Please, tell me what happened. How can I help?”

She sighed. “Thank you for being so good to me. I have to thank you for taking care of the bug today. You know its my baby.”

“Of course, Love.”

“The undercover car, well that was probably a great idea too.”

He couldn’t help but smile but as she went on to tell him about the rest of her day, his smiled fell. She’d been in danger for the better part of her day and the fact that Humbert was there to rescue her at every turn shouldn’t have bothered him, but it did. He held his tongue as she told him what happened throughout the day. He could see she needed to get things off her chest.  He also held her hand as she spoke. She gripped it harder during certain points and eased up on others.

“And now here we are.” She said before sipping her glass.

He hadn’t even realized that their waitress had dropped off their drinks that he was so intent on listening to her. He licked his bottom lip and gave her hand a light squeeze. “That’s quite a day you’ve had.”

She took her hand back to brush the hair back from her face. “Yeah, and I feel like I’ve gotten nowhere.”

He took a sip and relished in the burn going down his throat. He took a breath and composed himself. He didn’t need to add to her stress, he needed to help her. “I don’t believe that. You’ve got something. You just don’t realize it. Let’s talk about it.”

She nodded. “I feel like Al and Naveen know something. They just aren’t telling me. Having Humbert there was definitely not a good move to get these kids talking. His badge helped us get out of there, but I don’t think they trusted him.”

He smirked. “I agree, he can be a total git. Who’d want to tell him anything.”

She laughed and took another sip of her drink. “Exactly. I have no idea what happened with the sorority girls either. I have a hard time believing that none of them saw Lottie leave the party or cared enough to look for her except for Tiana. Can they be that jealous of her? I thought they were supposed to be sisters?”

He could hear the frustration in her voice. “Do you think it would be worth it to go back and talk to them again?”

“I’ve got to go to the Frat house tomorrow to talk to the guys. I will probably circle back and try the girls again too, without Officer flirtypants with me.”

He gently took her hand. “Would you like me to accompany you?”

“Can you do that? What about work?” she asked.

“Of course, I can. I’ve got loads of vacation time saved up and given that you’ve been threatened several times over the course of two days, maybe it would be good for you to have back up.”

“Killian, you know I can take care of myself.”

He sighed. “Yes, but.”

She interrupted him before he could continue. “But, I would be happy to have you back me up. Its going to be hard for me to find these girls with a target on my back.” She smiled.”  Not to mention that having your baby blues to look at keeps me centered.”

“Good, then it’s settled. I’ll tell the guys that I’m taking some time off to help you with this case.”

“Great, now what happened to our waitress. I’m starving.”

He leaned out of their booth to flag down a waitress but the sound of sobbing from the table behind them caught his attention. “Do you hear that?”

Emma turned but the dividing glass between their booths was frosted so she couldn’t see who it was. She climbed out of the booth to get a better look. She was surprised to see the large man leaning over the table with his head in his hands sobbing. She leaned forward and tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked.

She was shocked to see his familiar face turn towards her. It was swollen and wet but familiar. “Mr. LaBouff?”

He picked up the cloth napkin in front of him and wiped his face. “Yes, whose asking?”

“Hi, I’m Emma Swan. I’ve been hired by Tiana’s family to find her and your daughter Charlotte.”

His eyes went wide. He wiped his face once more. She could tell he’d been drinking for a while based on the level of alcohol left in bottle on the table. “You’re trying to find my little girls?” he said with slurred words.

She felt Killian come up behind her. “Do you mind if we ask you a few questions Mr. LaBouff?”

He nodded slowly. “Please, take a load off.”

She turned to Killian. “We need to get him some coffee. Can you ask the bartender?”

He nodded. “I’ll be right back with the coffee.”

She reached forward and touched his shoulder. “Killian, wait can you get some.”

He stopped her before she could say it. “Onion rings?”

She smiled. “You know me so well. Make it a double.”

~~~~~~~~

Hi Again! If you are dropping me a comment or review – I’d love to know what song you thought was playing on the radio while they were riding in the car? Thank you!

[wolfpawn]

When Ghosts Come for Us

Chapter 56

NOTE This is based on the movie Crimson Peak, so if any of the subject matter in that was uncomfortable for you, you will find this similar. I will *NOT* be describing incest in this, it will only be implied, same as the movie.

As I have stated already, my laptop is broken at present so please excuse grammar mistakes and the lack of GIFs and pics.

Also, I do not own any image or gif used in this story.

HERE is the link to Chapter 1 on Ao3

Rating - Mature

Charlotte felt uneasy with the information that Thomas had given her that evening, and even after attempting to sate their lust for one another after the day, she lay awake, staring at the canopy of the bed as Thomas slept soundly in the bed next to her. As she turned again, she felt his arm fall off her shoulder where it had ended up after he pulled her close to him, but with several attempts to get some rest, she had shirked it more and more off her arm with multiple tries to get comfortable in the bed. Thinking that she would not wake him now, Charlotte rose from the bed and grabbed a nightgown and walked from the room into the hallway.

As she walked down the hallway, she noted a small beam of light gently lighting the hall from Lucille’s room. She walked over and looked in, seeing Matilda, one of the carer’s cleaning Lucille’s face gently with a cloth. Satisfied there was no issue there, she continued her journey. She went to the office that William always used on the family floor of his family home, the one she rarely went in out of respect for the man that made her life so much easier, who gave her brother a good profession but at that moment, she needed to go there, to try and make sense of things. She sat in the large leather and wooden chair that she had seen William in more than once but had never sat in herself and thought. She had no idea what Lydia could want, but something told her, it was important, the other woman had never interacted with her before now, so to say she was, meant something. Looking at the desk, she sighed and placed her head in her hands. After a few minutes, she looked at the three drawers that made up the side of the desk and frowned. She noted they were not ones that could lock like so many she had seen and opened the top one.

There was nothing of note in there, different letters of inventories and other such items, clearly duplicates of ship's cargo that William had asked to have. The next drawer was nothing of note either, though there was a letter with writing she quickly recognised as her her, she read it and gave a small smile, in it she was thanking William, multiple times for assisting with Edward’s schooling, that she would be forever in his debt, that she would spend her life doing whatever he would require of her, that she respected other matters also. Charlotte pursed her lips, that had been her manner of referencing Lydia and his revelation of his love for the other woman and her respecting his request that she carry a child or two of his after his duty to the family name and future was upheld. She had promised him to do what was he asked and she would do so, she simply had no idea what that would entail. Looking at the rest of the notes in the desk, she realised there were other letters there, but none of them signed by a name, only with a term of endearment. She knew immediately they were from Lydia, she felt bad even looking at them, they were private but as she was now going to be dealing with the woman in some manner, she knew she needed to assess the woman she would be dealing with. It was quickly clear she was not well educated, her writing was not neat and the words were quite basic, some were spelt phonetically as opposed to correctly but she did not judge that. She knew that Lydia was not a learned woman, what she did note was the love and affection that the letters held for William and that made her smile slightly, that the woman had given her thoughts to William in such a manner. Charlotte felt herself intruding slightly but she flicked through a few of them. One caught her attention and going by the date, she knew why. It was clearly the first correspondence after she was promised to William, and clearly Lydia was heartbroken, her words were a mixture of angered and saddened, declaring that he did not love her, that she was not good enough, that she wasted her love on him, it flitted between the two emotions so quickly, Charlotte became dizzy more than once but she understood.

Sighing again, she did not know what to think. She knew Lydia would not hold any liking of her and she knew that if that letter was how she viewed things, the meeting between them would not be a pleasant one. It was dated several months before the marriage and William’s subsequent trip to India, and in turn, death and she could not find any of the ones that came after so she was not aware of whether or not the resentment remained. The manner in which William referenced the situation to her in person, both at their wedding at before would suggest it had not, so she was unsure what to think.

“Lady Charlotte?”

Charlotte looked up to see Margaret looking at her worriedly. “What are you doing out of bed at this hour, Margaret? You should be getting some rest.” The manner in which she chastised the maid was more motherly than anything, there was no harshness to her tone.

“Sir Thomas is looking for you, Ma’am.”

“Tell my silly husband, and tell him I called him that, that I am merely not able to sleep and to get some rest himself.”

Margaret tried to hide her slight snigger at the playful manner Charlotte jested at her husband before giving a slight curtsey. “Yes, Lady Sharpe.”

“And tell him he is not allowed have you called from your bed to irk me again or he will be sleeping in the attic. Women require sleep to rule the world.”

“I thought men ruled the world, Ma’am?”

“Who has ruled this country the longest of all its monarchs, Margaret?” “Queen Victoria, Ma’am.” “A woman,” Charlotte pointed out. “Because women do not start needless wars, so we live longer. And being honest, all the great men, even his Majesty, they cannot function without a woman to serve them their tea and breakfast, can they not? So by our actions, we women rule the world, men simply think they do because we let them.”

Margaret laughed and smiled brightly at Charlotte’s words, enjoying the playful manner her employer had. She did not think Charlotte to be silly and enjoyed working for the Sharpes. She knew her reciting Charlotte’s words back to Thomas would be met with a raised brow and a chuckle, along with another apology for her being woken to assist finding Charlotte. “Perhaps that is true, Ma’am.” “Perhaps.” Charlotte inhaled deeply and sighed. “Tell Thomas to go back to bed, then take the same advice yourself.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” With another curtsey, Margaret left.

Charlotte remained in the room for a period longer, contemplating everything silently with only the flickering of the oil lamp beside her as light.

*

The next morning, Thomas found his wife sitting in the drawing room, dressed and clearly having not slept the night before. “Lottie?” “Yes?” “What happened last night? Where did you go?”

“One of the offices, to think. I did not want to wake you.”

“Is everything alright?” “Fine, though, why did you have poor Margaret pulled from her bed to find me?”

“I was worried, after your illness, I was fearful that you had gone into the darkness and would be ill again.” “I am not as silly as you think, you know.” “I do not think you silly at all.” “Yet, you thought I would go into the darkness of the night and ramble about in it?”

“I could not find you. I was simply worried.” She said nothing in response, she merely stared into space. “Lottie?” “Where did Mr Longley state Ms Carmichael is resident again?” “Not too far from here. Why, will we send a carriage?” “No.” Thomas looked at her curiously. “Have Amelia told we will see Thomas early today, then you and I are going to see what this woman wants.” “I was under the impression she would come to us here?” “Can I ask, Thomas, have you ever had a feeling, one so peculiar, you cannot help but listen to it when it screams at you to do something?” Thomas swallowed and nodded. He knew the sensation, he had it before. “I have had it all night, something is not right and I do not wish for it to come to pass that she comes here. I feel as though it is not a good idea.” “Very well, I will have Oliver or Margaret inform the nursery.” He rose and left the room, knowing better than to dismiss his wife. To date, her intuition had been almost perfect, he did not wish to begin ignoring it now.

*

It was past lunch when the carriage came to the lovely farmhouse out the outskirts of a quaint Welsh town. Throughout the journey, there was little said between husband and wife, Thoms watching as Charlotte seemed to go through different scenarios in her mind. When they arrived, they both looked at the house, judging its appearance curiously. Charlotte thought of what William had said of Lydia and of her letters and thought it odd she would have such a home going by what he had told her of the other woman. It was not something they had discussed very often but she was curious as to who held William’s heart and seeing she was not going to do something of a negative manner, he admitted such to her.

The coachman, Emlyn, one of the men to find her in the stables, came around and opened the door for them, Thomas exiting first, then Charlotte came after, her husband holding his hand out to assist her. They looked around and both men watched as brazenly, Charlotte walked to the front door and knocked. A moment later a woman answered, looking somewhat startled. “Good afternoon, Ms Carmichael, I am Charlotte Sharpe, I heard you wished to speak with me?” “I…”

“Please, it is quite cold, may we come in?” “How do you know…?” “What you look like? Very simple, I recall you at William’s funeral. It is not often you see a woman, not of the immediate family or house staff so heartbroken for a person, it was not hard to deduce who you were, especially when you wore the same locket I saw him ready for you on one of our meetings, the very same one I see on you now.”

The woman looked down and realised how observant Charlotte was. “Yes.” She opened the door and allowed Charlotte inside, Thomas following after.

“This is my husband, Sir Thomas Sharpe, Baronet of Allerdale Hall,” She introduced calmly.

“Ma’am.” He bowed his head slightly as he stood back. “Sir.” The woman curtsied slightly, it was rough and uncoordinated, but she attempted it all the same. “I do not understand, I was told that I would come to Foxgrove.” “I thought it best to discuss this matter of yours at the earliest convenience, this is such. To send Emlyn all the way here for you, then back to Foxgrove, it would only cost more time, then, of course, returning you to your lovely home here and back to Foxgrove; it is fair on neither him or the horses. I mean, you would only be getting in the carriage now, this way, we will have whatever the matter is sorted by the time you would even arrive at Foxgrove.” She smiled innocently as she spoke. “Now, how may I assist you, Ms Carmichael, may I call you Lydia?”

“I…”

“There will be no formality here, I am simply Charlotte, Thomas is Thomas and please, do not worry, we only wish to know how we can assist.”

The woman swallowed and looked between the pair. “Well, you see…” “Momma!” A little girl rushed into the room and looked ran to Lydia. As soon as she saw the two other people, she looked at them warily.

“Hello.” Charlotte beamed brightly at the child. “Haven’t you got the most beautiful hair? My goodness, those are the prettiest curls I have ever seen, are they natural?” She looked at Lydia.

“Yes,” The woman whispered.

“Beautiful.” Charlotte smiled. “Is this the matter you wished to discuss with us?” Lydia looked to the ground.

“So, she is Hamilton’s?” Thomas asked, assuming the nature of the situation. Again, Lydia said nothing. “And you wish for what exactly, some of his estate?”

Charlotte looked at the little girl for a moment. “I think it is best if…what is your name, Sweetheart?”

“Victoria.” The little girl answered.

“Victoria, a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. And what age are you, Victoria?” “I will be five next month.”

“Five, you say, such a big girl. I think, perhaps, Little Victoria, you would find what we adults are about to talk of very boring matters and not really meant for little girl’s like you, would it be alright with you if my husband and I spoke to your Momma in private?” The girl seemed to think the same and rushed off again. Charlotte stood tall once more after leaning down to speak with the child. “She could not be deemed fit to get such, she is not a legitimate child.”

“I…” “I can assist with her, that is not even up for discussion, if she requires anything, once I have this all looked into, I will have her tended to, it would only be fair. William insisted that you be looked after. It is clear from this home that he was already tending to you even in his passing and I will continue such.” Lydia stared at her, barely comprehending the manner in which Charlotte was speaking regarding her. “William spoke the truth. You did not mind.” “No. I did not. I still do not. William never lied to me regarding you, he told me everything from the beginning.”

Lydia nodded for a moment before frowning. “‘Looked into’, what will you look into?”

“Well, I cannot simply give money to anyone in the county that declares their child is William’s, that would be madness.” Lydia’s eyes widened. “When I married William, I knew you would be a constant in my life from that day forth, there was no pretence, no lies. I am aware of the bargain he wished for, he gave it to me before we married, to have children that would be the successors of the Hamilton business, and then have his family, with you.” Lydia swallowed with tears in her eyes. “I wish to honour the wish to tend to you, Lydia.” “Then why…” “Because that girl is not his daughter.” Charlotte declared with absolute certainty. “You forget, Ms Carmichael, of your letters to William, before his marriage to me. He kept them, and with keeping them, my ability to find them among his belongings and read them. I did not sleep last night, wondering why you wanted this meeting, and I found myself going into his old office, a room I have never been overly interested in, yet last night, I found myself there, and whilst there, I found these letters, letters that are younger than that child, and not one even remote mention or references of her. She does not look remotely like him either, does she?” Lydia swallowed. “I doubt, by your love for William, she is a result of a folly with another man, either.” Lydia’s face told Charlotte the accuracy of her assumptions. “Lydia, I will look after you and your daughter, I swear to you on my son, but you must be honest with me.”

“She is my sister’s, she died two years ago, Victoria came to me then, since William gave me all of this, it allowed me to tend to her.” “Of course.” “But I...the rents have increased, I can no longer afford it.” She confessed, her shame at her lies being seen through coming to the fore.

“And you thought to extort money from my wife instead?” Thomas felt angered at the situation.

“Thomas.” Charlotte soothed before going to Lydia, taking her hand and patting it gently. “It is alright, I understand.” “I…”

“I do.” “There is more,” Lydia confessed.

“Tell me.” “Mr Hall…” “What of the pest?” “He told me that this would guarantee Victoria a proper income, that she would be tended to properly...if…” “If what?” “I said she was truly William’s, fully.” “But there is no marriage cert,” Thomas dismissed.

“With the right person, there is a manner to get one,” Charlotte stated. “Let me guess, if you did this, Mr Hall would state your claim true and with an agreement to marry him, he would get Foxgrove.”

“I am sorry.” “It is alright, I will sort this,” Charlotte swore.

“Will you report me to the police?” Lydia asked fearfully. “Whatever for?”

“For making a false claim.” “Have you made such claims to someone of note?”

“I have not.” “Then, no. I have no reason to do so. I understand your fears for you and Victoria and I know that as a mother, I would do whatever needed to look after my child, you are merely doing the same for your niece.” “I am sorry,” Lydia repeated.

“Hush now,” Charlotte urged. “I said already, I will assist you both.” “I...You will, after everything?” Lydia stared in shock. “I stated already, William wanted you cared for, I will respect that.” She smiled.

“I...How are you so kind?” “Because, Dear Lydia, I never saw you as a foe, merely a woman misfortunate enough to love a man of higher birth and to never truly be able to love him.”

“And Mr Hall?” “You continue as you are for now, and allow me to deal with our dear Mr Hall.” She smirked.

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