#so yeah surprise guys i’m in ireland

[octaviasdread]

the way i’ve been in dublin for 72 hours and not hit up a single bookshop is a CRIME

[dreamingonclds]

My Girl | Hozier

Summary: Andrew ruins the surprise date that y/n had planned for him.

Pairing: Hozier x reader

Word Count: 2055

Warning(s): Very slight sexual activity, angst if you squint, fluff

Note: I did not edit this so, sorry if the grammar or writing is off. Also, this is my very first one shot. It ended in a different way than I expected and I don't know how to feel about it anymore. Enjoy!

As it was your last day with Andrew before leaving to go back home. You decided to surprise him with a romantic dinner once he got back from the studio. You slaved away all day in the kitchen making his favorite foods. As a testament of gratitude for everything he’s done for you this past month, spent with him in Wicklow. You decorated the dinner table and area all cute, with fairy lights, artificial vines, and scattered petals. You even put on a dress, his favorite, on you, and the lipstick he said made you look like you were touched by Aphrodite.

The time came when he was supposed to arrive and he didn’t. You didn’t want to even consider the possibility of ruining the surprise. So you didn’t call him right away, concluding that he was probably running a bit late like he sometimes does. A couple more hours went by and now the concern in your belly was getting hard to ignore. It was almost 12 am, he said he would be home by 8 pm. So you decided to shoot him a quick text.

Hey baby, everything okay?

He calls you back almost immediately.

“Hey darling, I’m sorry I got carried away and forgot to call you earlier. Me and the team decided to just order some food and eat here. I’ll be home in a bit, do you want me to pick you something up to take back?” He says rushing to get the words out, you hear the shuffling of feet getting away from the sound of banter and laughs.

You smile sadly at his sincerity.

“It’s okay, I get it. But umm…,” You interrupt your own speech as you look towards the beautifully set table and food you kept in the oven to keep warm. “I’m okay, I made dinner earlier, thanks for offering anyway. But you enjoy your dinner!” you continue.

“I am, you enjoy your dinner too-”

“I’ll try. Be safe, yeah?” You quickly respond cutting him off.

“Are you-”

You cut him off again, starting to feel a lump develop in your throat, and that shameful tickle in your chest.

“Hey I gotta go Andrew, don’t want the food to get cold.” you say and hang up before he can say anything else.

Your flight out of Ireland was at 6 am. You weren’t even packed, thinking that after dinner, Andrew could help you, because you knew he’d do most of it for you; as he did with other things. But also because you wanted to spend as much time with him before you left. But with your time of departure nearing, you decided to get a move on it.

By the time Andrew got home it was nearing 3 am. And you were nearly done packing, because you had stayed with him for a little over a month, your things were scattered throughout his house so it took a while. In the midst of you focused, trying to remember everything you had brought, you didn’t hear the front door open.

Andrew walks in quietly, believing that he would find you asleep. He quickly notices a light shining from inside the oven, he hurries over and opens it, thinking you accidentally left it on. But his eyebrows scrunch together when he sees it’s only the light on and his favorite meal in there, untouched.

He stands up straight from his crouching position and walks out to the dining area. He quickly notices the dining table, set with empty plates, wine glasses and the vase with flowers you guys picked together. The almost completely melted taper candles were an indication that you had been waiting for him for a while. 

Once the realization hits him, he mutters a single word.

“Fuck.” he brings his hand to his face, rubbing it over. He turns himself and begins to walk towards the bedroom. But, his guilty conscience makes him look back to the table. His imagination quickly fills of you, wondering just what you must have been feeling. He thinks to blow out the candles but turns his back to them, they’re on their last breath anyway; he thinks.

He carefully opens the bedroom door, still believing you are asleep. But he pauses when he sees you standing there, lost in thought. But beautiful, all dolled up in his favorite dress of yours.

Your eyes shoot to the opening door, and the first thing you notice is his sorry face. Before you can mutter a word, a letter even. He rushes over to you

“Darling, I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. I didn’t know. One of the guys mentioned getting pizza and everybody was on board with it so I agreed and,” he rambles on, both his hands rubbing your arms.

“Why are you leaving me…over that darling, it’s not worth it. I know I fucked up, I know that, I know. But I can fix it, I promise you I will fix it. It was so stupid of me, but it won’t ever happen again.” he continues, one of his hands had made its way to your face, gently cupping your jaw and caressing your cheek.

And then it hits you, he walked in and saw you packing. He must think that you are actually leaving him, he must’ve forgotten your flight back.

Before he can continue, you ease his worry.

“Baby, I’m not breaking up with you. I’m okay, I promise” you say as you look up to him and look into his eyes,you take his torso in your arms and rub him soothingly. His eyebrows furrow together, he’s still confused, he really doesn’t remember.

You take his hand and lead him over to the empty side of the bed free of your luggage. You push his chest lightly, encouraging him to sit down. And he does, pulling you down to sit in his lap. 

“Then…what are you doing?” He asks, one hand sitting on your bum and the other toying with the fabric of your dress.

“I’m leaving, remember, back home.” You say, one arm around his shoulders playing with the loose strands of hair coming out of his bun. 

“Ohh” he lets out a sigh and puts his head into your neck, peppering your collarbone with kisses, mumbling sorrys in between each of them.

“Baby. Baby. Baby” he says, each one spaced out.

“I am so sorry. That I truly forgot about. I am so so sorry. I can’t believe I just let that pass my mind. Oh my god what is wrong with me.” he rambles guiltily.

You remove your hands from his hair and try to coax them into his face, softly lifting him out of the crook of your neck. You give him a gentle smile and give him a soft kiss.

“It’s okay.” you say genuinely, nodding your head.

“No it’s not.” he responds matter of factly.

“You forgot baby, it happens-” you try to reassure him but he cuts you off with a kiss.

“Be honest love, how’d it make you feel?” he asks, lips brushing against yours. Your head naturally hangs down, the feeling of humiliation overtaking you once again. But the feeling of his large hand rubbing over your thigh offers comfort for you to tell him the truth, but not enough.

“Ugh” you groan in embarrassment, quickly hugging him so as to not meet his gaze, your cheeks warming with the feeling.

“Oh darling.” he returns the act and rubs your exposed back. “How do I make it up to you baby?” he asks you, and you can tell he means it.

“It’s okay, I mean it.” you state, pulling away and meeting his eyes. He gives you an understanding smile, and brings his hand to your face. Moving your hair from your face and lightly touching your lips, you give his thumb a soft peck.

“You are too good for me.” he admits. You don’t know what to say, so you don’t say anything. You shake your head in disagreement and give his jaw a peck. Your phone buzzes from the bed and he turns and reaches for it, handing it to you. 

“Shit.” you say, getting up and off of him, realizing the time.

“Babe, we have to hurry!” you hurry back to your luggage.

“We have to leave soon or I'll miss my flight.” you throw the last few things in your suitcase.

“Oh yeah” he says, coming over to you. “Let me do that.” he tells you when he sees you trying to close it.

“I’m gonna go get my clothes.” you say and run out to the laundry room, picking up the outfit you planned to wear for your long flight. Walking back into the bedroom, you see Andrew moving your luggage to the floor. You reach to try and unhook the back of your dress when he comes up and hugs you from behind. He then turns you to face him and shamelessly checks you out, his eyes fixed on your cleavage before he speaks.

“ I love this dress.” he says meeting your eyes.

“I know, I can tell.” you giggle.

He leans down, bringing his lips to yours, you tiptoe, trying to make up for the height difference. A passionate makeout ensues, his hands give your bum gentle squeezes. His mouth finds your neck and you release soft moans, almost giving in as he backs you into the bed.

“As much as I would like to babe, I can’t. I have to leave, like now or I’ll miss my flight.” you say breathlessly, your body almost betraying you as his lips make their way from your jaw to your chest. Your hands go to his hair instinctively as he continues to go lower and lower.

“Babe, seriously, we don’t have time” trying to catch your breath, you sit up, forcing him up as well. He gives you a cheeky smile, offering his hand to help you to your feet.

“It’s like you’re trying to keep me from leaving.” you run your hands through your hair in an effort to put yourself together.

“That's exactly what i'm trying to do” he stands with his hands on his hips, just endearingly looking at you, taking you in. You look up to him, and a laugh leaves your mouth when you see your lipstick transferred to his face.

“This would be so much worse if it wasn’t for your beard” you say in between small laughs, circling your mouth, in reference to his. He turns his head towards the mirror and laughs when he catches sight of the damage.

“Yours isn’t any better.” he turns back to you and wipes the tip of your nose that somehow managed to catch the rosy tint. You return the favor, wiping his lips with the best of your ability. Then you rest your hand on his cheek, he turns his head towards it and gives your palm a kiss. You give him a pouty smile, and your chest aches, realizing just how much you don’t want to leave him.

“My girl.” he says, mouth still in your hand. He holds your wrist there for a few more seconds before he gives it one last kiss and gently lets go.

“You’re making this really hard.” you admit. You turn your back to him and step away, not being able to look at him any longer. Your hands go back to small hooks of your dress, when you hear a sigh from behind you.

“At least let me take the dress off of you, one way or another.” he offers, referring to your prior denial of both your unholy desires. You chuckle and let him help, shivering whenever his fingertips meet your skin.

With no time left to spare due to the hour drive to the airport, you slipped on your comfy clothes and grabbed your belongings. The drive there was full of avoidance from the both of you, not wanting to talk about being away from each other. So instead, the conversation was full of the best memories you had in the emerald isle. And once you arrived at the airport, you sat in the car for as long as you could, not wanting a single second to go to waste where you couldn’t be together.

[magics-neptunes-things]

Surprise

Hi guys ♥

Sorry to be a little slower to post those days, I have some change in my personnal life and I need time to adjust, I think.

I still have some request for McFoord, like here, here, and here. And the prompt come from here .

Thank you!

TW : Homesickness I guess, past Ruesha-Katie mentionned

Despite the international break, Caitlin finds herself stuck in London due to a very slight thigh muscle injury. Since these are only friendly matches, the Australian staff decided not to take any risks with the player and leave her at home in London. Caitlin genuinely hesitated to accompany her teammates to Australia to have time with her mother, her sister and her sister-in-law for a few days. But the break falling during Katie’s birthday, the Australian finally decided to stay in London to at least make a FaceTime in the rules of the art with her girlfriend.

Despite the distance, Caitlin has arranged things with a restaurant near the hotel where the Ireland team is, to be able to have a dinner face to face with FaceTime. And she also gave the gift she plans to offer to Katie to Grace, whom she has come to know well since dating Katie. And that Caitlin appreciates a lot.

It’s been three days since Katie and most of their friends left London. And Caitlin’s already a little bored, taking care of Katie’s cat to pass the time. Coopurr had time to get used to the presence of the Australian at her side before, but Caitlin sometimes feels that he misses the presence of the Irish woman too.

The typical September London rain waters London when Caitlin goes home to Katie's after going shopping for her and the cat.

"Bloody hell" Caitlin yells, getting rid of her wet jacket.

Sometimes she really misses Australia.

Taking off her shoes and socks, also wet, the young woman puts on Katie’s slippers to go drop her things in the kitchen. When she puts the last package in the cupboards, her phone starts ringing. Taking a brief glance in the direction of the clock, a smile appears on her face, knowing that it's most certainly Katie.

But her smile turns into a worried look when she sees Grace’s name appear on her phone screen. Why would her girlfriend’s best friend call her? Already imagining the worst, Caitlin hurries to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi mate. It’s Grace"

"Is Katie okay?" Caitlin asks, forgetting any manners.

"Yeah, yeah, she’s fine, don’t worry" Grace quickly replies, suspecting Caitlin’s worry.

"What’s going on?"

"I mean, when I say she’s okay, I’m talking about physical well-being. But I’m not hiding from you that since she came here she seems… I don’t know, sad? I even thought at one point that you had an argument or that you had broken up"

Despite her, Caitlin feels her stomach twist. Everything was fine between them when Katie left and during the various exchanges of messages or calls they had.

"What? No, we’re fine. And she didn’t tell me that something was up when we talked."

And they were talking at least once with FaceTime everyday, in addition of messaging through the day. Frowning, Caitlin sits on the first chair near her. She tries to understand what can bother Katie so much, not really finding answers. What intrigues her is that her girlfriend doesn't seem to have wanted to share her moods with her, whereas normally they talk about everything.

"I tried to talk to her, but you know her. She doesn’t want to say anything." Grace continues

"Does Ruesha give her a hard time?"

There is a few seconds of silence before Grace's answer and Caitiln imagines her perfectly shruging her shoulders after having thought a little while.

"No more than usual. Katie avoids being with her as much as possible but they can’t avoid each other all the time. Rue is Rue but it could be worse tho"

Caitlin gives up a grunt for any answer. Letting Katie go with her ex wasn’t something easy for Caitlin and not just out of jealousy. We can’t say that Ruesha was nice to them.

Persuaded that Katie has cheat with Caitlin even before their breakup, Rue seems to take a malignant pleasure in taking revenge on something that never happened. Despite the multiple explanations from Katie, who finally gave up.

"I think spending her birthday away from you and most of her friends weighs more than usual, because of all that." Grace says.

"Oh…"

Of course, Caitlin would have preferred to spend that day with Katie. She could also have followed Katie to Ireland to spend a few hours with her that day, but the two women made the decision not to do so to avoid any drama with Ruesha precisely.

"Look, I know you both agreed it was better that way, but I really think Katie would like you to come. She needs you. But I don’t mean to put pressure on you, obviously."

"I’ll get someone who can take care of Coopurr and I’ll be there as soon as possible."

It was easier for Caitlin to find a plane ticket to Dublin than to find someone to take care of her girlfriend’s precious cat. It's finally Laura who has custody of it for a few days, after receiving a long list of recommendations from Caitlin who finally became almost as fond of the feline that Katie is.

Caitlin came to Ireland twice, but it was always with Katie and to meet her girlfriend’s family. Learning that Caitlin was coming, Ella and Lauryn, some of Katie's sisters, offered to pick her up at the airport and then take her to Katie’s hotel. Grace is supposed to help Caitlin sneak into Katie’s room while another teammate keeps Katie busy.

"Oh wow" Caitlin says when entering the room she rented.

The decoration she requested for the occasion is already installed and it's even better than what she had imagined. She takes the time to open her suitcase to install the last elements to the decoration, some pictures of them in particular.

Then Caitlin takes a quick shower to cool off after the trip and changes clothes, before heading to the suite lounge to wait for Katie. She voluntarily didn't respond to Katie’s messages as quickly and as long as usual, wishing that the surprise effect for Katie was to the maximum. But she transferred the photos of the cat that Laura sent her in the last few hours, giving her the impression that she is still in London. In her humble opinion, Caitlin will be able to embark on a second career in events when she has to retire from sport.

But these thoughts are quickly pushed back when Caitlin distinctly hears the voice of her girlfriend ringing in the corridor leading to the room. She is grumbling, something based on "I hope it’s worth it Gracie, I just wanted to put my ass in front of Netflix" which amuses the Australian a lot.

Thanks to the double magnetic card that Grace has, she opens the door of the suite on Grumpy Katie.

Her face changes instantly when she sees Caitlin patiently standing in the center of the room.

"What the fuck?!" almost shout the Irish.

Caitlin’s laughter mingles with Grace's in front of Katie’s stupor, who doesn't seem to dare sketch the slightest gesture. The fact that it's two days before her birthday probably plays a little too.

But Katie ends up getting out of her stupor and suddenly rushes inside the room to hug her girlfriend. Grace takes the opportunity to make a discreet exit, delicately closing the door behind her after depositing the card on the cabinet of the entrance.

"What the hell are you doing here?" asks Katie, taking Caitlin’s face in both hands, as if to make sure she’s not dreaming.

"I heard my girlfriend was having a hard time. And I missed her very much too"

"Wait where is Coop?" frowns Katie

"Really? Your damn cat before kissing me?" Caitlin laughs.

A guilty smile on her lips, Katie hurries to put her lips on Caitlin's to properly celebrate their reunion. A tender and delicate kiss and Caitlin would swear she feels Katie’s muscles relax one by one in her arms.

"Hi" smiles Katie after kissing

"Hi" replies Caitlin smiling back, dropping a new kiss on her lips. "Coop is with Laura"

Katie hums simply, sticking herself in the arms of her girlfriend. Grace was right in calling Caitlin, the captain of Ireland has had better times than now. But she obviously wasn’t going to complain to anyone. Understanding the message, Caitlin tightens her arms around her, affectionately stroking her hair by gently rocking her, giving her the confort quietly asked.

"What’s all this?" Katie asks several minutes later, looking at the decoration.

"The second part of the surprise. The first being me, of course"

A smile appears on Katie's face, who becomes aware of the whole decoration, her gaze lingering on each of the photos that Caitlin has installed. Some are recent, some are from last year and some are even older.

"This is the first photo we took together" informs Caitlin pointing to a photo

A smile appears on Katie’s face when she looks more closely.

"We look like babies" Katie smirks

"You do. I still look the same actually"

"You’re right. You’ve always been beautiful"

"You're such a simp"

Caitlin rolls her eyes, unable to retain an amused smile. This is probably not the right time to talk about all her adolescent and young adult complexes. The Australian prefers to focus on the present and her girlfriend. Although they were quickly interrupted by knocks on the door, announcing the arrival of their dinner.

********

"Thanks for coming" whispers Katie, a few hours later.

They enjoyed their meal accompanied by champagne (without alcohol of course), talked and laughed. Katie has honestly not felt as relaxed as she is since arriving at the camps. When Caitlin offered to take a bath, Katie didn't hesitate a single second before accepting. Before, she was not a fan of baths, considering that it was a great waste of time. But if she has the opportunity to add Caitlin naked with her in the hot water, she's suddenly a very big fan.

Sitting in front of her in the bathtub that is about to overflow with foam, Caitlin leaves the foam with which she was playing, to report her eyes on Katie.

"Sure. But next time I’d rather you tell me directly if something’s wrong. You don’t have to pretend with me."

Katie looks thoughtfully at Caitlin for a few seconds, a slight guilt creating in the pit of her stomach.

"I- I just…"

"It’s not dramatic, Puddin" Caitlin says, smiling, taking her hand in hers.

"I just didn’t want to worry you and complicate things"

"It's ok, I’m not angry. You want to talk about it?"

Katie sighs, her hand slowly playing with the foam. When she thinks about it, she feels like she's overreacting or something. That's partly why she didn't talk to Caitlin about it.

"It's nothing really. It's just that everything seems harder here. Without you" she adds, without looking at her. "Rue is an ass and the team's dynamic isn't really the same. It's like every single one of them has to choose their side between me and her, but I never wanted this. It's really weird."

"I'm sorry" mumble Caitlin.

"It's not your fault" frowns Katie, looking at her this time. "It will get better"

Caitlin shrugs and sighs too. If she has the choice, she would pack her bags, put Katie in it and go back to London. But she can't, for obvious reasons.

"I know how much you loved the Irish camps, I just want you to be happy"

"I will kill you if you say other people and they see how much you make me sappy, but I am happy, thanks to you. To be honest, I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy in my life as I have been since we are together. I know I like to play the big guy, but you make me feel cared, safe and loved. There is no stupid competition between us to know which of the two is better. I’ve always looked for someone to push me to be better every day, but you do it and in a much healthier way than I’ve known so far."

Caitlin’s tormented face transforms into tender and Katie barely has time to finish her sentence as the Australian moves to find herself as close to her as possible, sending some hot water and foam on the ground.

"I hope to continue to feel this for a very long time" adds Katie on a whisper, Caitlin’s face a few inches from hers.

"I intend to love you for the rest of my life. And you will have no choice" Caitlin replies with an amused smile.

"Sounds good to me" Katie smirks, before grabbing her girlfriend’s face to kiss her.

[aristotels]

re EE being in the periphery. i’m pretty sure there were articles about how germany uses EE countries in EU for cheap labor. like sure, they’re privileged compared to most say african states, but it’s not like WE countries give that privilege for free or out of good heart, when in reality it’s geographic control + cheap labor + brain drain. combined with the fact that EU doesn’t allow for state control of markets, it means that those EE countries that had state enterprises are now in disadvantage. like i think EE countries have more in common with latin american countries than western europe , idk.

yeah, and not only articles you can find in english, but there are actual studies and articles; they are however in croatian so i dont know how much help would that be (the emmigration issue here is huge, its mainly to germany/ireland) (we have so many SONGS about moving to germany and ireland too). heres wikipedia on it, i guess you can use google translate and it also lists something quite shocking: many cities and villages in croatia and bosnia have more people living in germany than in their respective native towns.

as for lived experience, when i visited germany, you could literally walk around the city and find our people there, mostly in low-skill jobs. i once said "u pičku materinu" and a totally random guy in the street was like "ooooo pa evo i naših". "arbajt" and "bauštela" are such common phrases here that they have become memes, and dalmatians from zagora literally wear mercedes signs around their necks. recently there was an article saying how, despite euro, people from imotski STILL mourn over the deutsch marke, because they used to go work there, and then would come home and just live for an entire month off one bill. they STILL convert euros to marke.

EE is a neo-colony to the WE. whenever i talk about this, while i do use EE as a term because its more understood than SEE (southern-eastern europe), my experiences are yugoslavian, and there are big differences between eastern bloc and exyu countries. it isnt the same, economically nor politically, since yugoslavia was a part of the third world movement, thus primarily working with african and latam countries in its past (also reason why we have the lowest skin-based-racism in europe)(different than nationality racism, thats what we excel at).

a lot of croats (esp dalmatians) mainly moved to latam countries during ww2 as opposed to the usa (the current chilean and argentinian presidents are croatian dalmatians)(sorry guys we are kinda ruining yalls countries)

it was very surprising to me when i started following global-south-commies on here, they always have very positive opinions of yugoslav countries. i find it very endearing how all my political yugoslav posts end up being hits among them.

politics unrelated, croats tend to love latam countries because of football, messi was literally the coolest person in the entire world while i was a kid. there are lots of similarities in mentality.

[around1302]

I. BIRTHDAY BLUES

SPARE PARTS: a series (1/20)

AVIVA STADIUM, DUBLIN

(W) strong language, alcohol & drug use

CHARLIE’S POV

“You know what your fuckin’ issue is?”

“Oh yeah? Tell me now, Charlie, right before we play to 50,000 people.”

“51,700, actually.”

“Bite me, princess.”

Harry, as always, was late. Twenty fucking minutes late. I thought, naively, that maybe he would surprise me. That this time, on the first show of our world stadium tour, he would actually rock up at the agreed-upon time. But no, twenty minutes after we were meant to be on stage, he rolled in as cool and collected as ever while I'd been pacing anxiously.

I had jumped up from my place by the covered speaker, promptly whacked him on his ridiculously polka-dotted shoulder, and began the earache for the rest of them (who all, by habit at this point, groaned and covered said ears).

“You guys ready?” A crew member interrupts us seconds from an actual fistfight and begins lifting the crimson curtain, one we’d all have about ten seconds to mentally prepare behind before a screen would be lifted and we’d be on display to (I am correct) 51,700 awaiting fans.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Niall answers, adjusting his guitar strap, “you guys think you can keep it in your pants for the next ninety minutes?”

Overlapping grumbles of disgust from Harry and I echo the small backstage as Louis thrusts his palm in the middle of us all. I roll my eyes but can’t help the small tug of my lips as the ritual begins. Liam follows, sticking his trusty drum sticks in his pocket to slap his palm atop Louis’. Niall joins, Harry’s ring-clad hand eventually makes its appearance, and I reluctantly top the pile.

“Spare Parts on three, yeah?” Louis asks, as if that wasn’t obvious by now.

“On three,” Liam affirms regardless.

“One,”

“Two,”

“Spare Parts!”

“Okay, you’re up,” Clipboard-Man lifts the heavy red curtain, making the screams suddenly louder, realer, scarier, “break a leg.”

“We’ll try not to,” I smile, trying not to let the nerves wobble my bottom lip as I barge past Harry to get to the front, not caring to turn for his reaction.

I know that for the next ninety minutes it will be all fake smiles and even faker laughs with my singing partner, so as he takes up his position beside me, I decide to steal one last scowl and a hissed, “this isn’t over,” before the screen suddenly lifts and there they are.

51 and fucking 700.

“Ire-land!” Niall shouts into the mic attached to his face, throwing his hands in the air as we all shakily step out and try not to pass out in front of the overwhelming crowd. We all knew going in that this was really Niall’s gig, and so he was more than happy to take the reigns for our first show.

You can barely see a person for the bright lights beaming back at the five of us, but by the edge of the stage you can just about see signs and fuck can you hear them. The cheers for us is something I can never get used to, no matter how long we’ve been doing it for. I imagine myself being old and gray and wrinkled and still surprised if I’m stopped in the street.

“It’s good to be home!” Niall’s met by the sounds of thousands of – apparently dying – fans, “Ireland, we have a special treat for you tonight.”

I stand with my arm leant against Louis, my usual safe haven, and laser my focus on the back of Harry’s head as he anxiously messes with his hair, just so I don’t have to watch the crowd.

“You good, Char?” Louis pulls down his mic and whispers, moving his bass out of my way. I send him an over-exaggerated (and unconvincing) nod, trying my hardest not to let the nerves crumble me into a dusty pile atop that stage.

Gigs? Fine. An arena tour? Done. But a stadium tour? A world stadium tour? I’m realising (in probably the worst place) just how new and terrifying this territory is.

“Today is a very special day for us,” Harry continues, turning around and glaring at me with wide, scolding eyes. I quickly take the hint, sucking in the last of my confidence to step forward to him, “because six years ago today, we were formed as a band.”

The crowd rips into cheers heard deafeningly even through my earpiece, and despite the plummeting feeling I have deep in my chest, I feel an aura of safety. Despite there being a lot, lot more of them than I’m used to – they’re here for us. They paid, they showed up, they’re screaming for us.

“We want to thank you all,” I boom, my voice leaving me firmer than I expected, “so much, from the bottom of all our hearts. We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you guys.”

“We love you!” A fan yelps out amongst the screams.

“We love you more,” Harry quickly shoots back, ever the moment-stealer, “and to show you how much we love you,” he glances back at Niall, who begins to play a few opening cords of Teenage Dirtbag, “we’re going to play the very first song we ever sang together.”

Liam kicks in with the drums as I continue.

“Six years ago, we were nothing but strangers thrown together, and now we’re up here as a family,” I glance at Harry, a look that is met with a knowing – mocking – smirk. I try not to scowl, “thank you, Ireland. We love you. This is Teenage Dirtbag!”

Harry and I share an always oddly reassuring look as our earpieces give us the count-in and the opening notes of our first song begin.

Despite our off-stage hatred, on-stage we always seem to mesh. Maybe it’s because Harry Styles is so drastically different to Harry that he’s actually bearable, or maybe we’re just equally as terrified. Either way, as I begin to shakily sing her part, I don’t miss the way Harry watches me from the sidelines until I stand stronger in my voice and melt into Charlie Greene.

“I think last night was our best show yet.”

“You say that every show, Liam.”

“What? It’s true.”

“Will you guys shush,” scolding brogue suddenly emerges from the corner, “she’ll be here any minute.”

Cryptically, I kind of hope it all backfires. Amelia walks in too early, or she hates the balloons, or has the date wrong. As my hamstrings burn within their crouched position behind some seating, my eyes boring into the plushy velvet till I’m sure I hate the colour yellow, I wish that under some power of some God that Niall doesn’t win this one.

Call me petty, but I’m damn well allowed to be. It was me plaiting her hair and gossiping about our classmates and being her shoulder to cry on for the most part of our lives. I was supposed to be the one who bought all the pink glittery vodka out, and ensure the only music playing from the jukebox will be Red (TV) and, and… well, fuck.

It’s perfect. He’s perfect. They’re perfect.

I hate this.

“Do you want to make it any less obvious you’re bitter about this whole thing?”

“Shut up, Louis,” I grumble, not bothering to meet his eye. I already know it’s going to be judgmental, “I’m the worst friend in the world, I’m allowed to be pissed.”

“Maybe, but suck it up for one night, yeah?”

I flag him in the dark, our eyes so adjusted at this point he sees clear as day and flases me a sarcastic grin right back. He’s right – I do need to suck it up, but with how busy I’ve been lately with the new album and tour preparations, I should have at least planned my best friend’s 22nd to make up for the lost time. She’s been excited for this day since we were twelve and replayed Taylor Swift dancing in heart glasses and a (questionable) fedora a trillion times.

Niall had organised everyone to be at Malibu’s for half seven before getting Zayn to shoot Amelia a text to meet at eight. According to her, this was going to be a semi-normal Friday night at our usual; she’d be hanging out with Zayn as the rest of us are ‘still in Ireland.’ Except, we’d all be jumping out of the darkness when the door chimes open. The last person to arrive did so about ten minutes ago, omitting, of course, one exception…

The usual exception.

where are u ??

Sent 19:35

seriously, where are u

Sent 19:40

dude.

Sent 19:46

this isn’t funny, this is lia’s day

Sent 19:50

HELLO??

Sent 19:55

i genuinely hope u get crushed in traffic

Sent 19:59

To be late to everything is one thing, but to be late to a surprise party for not only my best friend but a subsequent good friend of the whole band is taking the piss. Amelia’s due any minute, and–

A rectangle of light flows into the room, the door chimes – fuck, it’s showtime, and I’m riddled with frustation while I should be tingling with pre-emptive happiness for my friend. Anticipation straightens my spine as Niall flicks the light on by the door and we all jump out popping glittery confetti and yelling jovial surprises to…, not Amelia. Harry barely looks up from his phone as everyone murmurs collective confusion and groans of annoyance at the wasted string now adorning the bar floor.

“God, you’re a fucking idiot, H,” Niall grabs his arm, yanking him to the side as his eyes flicker around the room, seemingly taking this all in as if this is news. Niall turns to us, presumably to tell everyone to get back in place and forget the fact all the party poppers are ruined, but not a few moments later the actual birthday girl appears in the doorway. Everyone yells surprise again, this time a little weaker.

I wish I could see her face, but I’m too busy hoping the phrase ‘if looks could kill’ is true as I glare at Harry. In his (teeny tiny) defence, he looks genuinely confused, and we’re all running on two hours of sleep and a whole bunch of heat exhaustion. But, the several texts I sent and the fact this has been discussed in endless amounts in the past few weeks feed him little sympathy from me.

“Sorry, Lia,” Niall starts, “this was meant to be a surprise party, but–”

“You threw me a party? You’re here?”

“Yes, but–”

“Baby!” Amelia squeals, jumping into her boyfriend’s arms. I half roll my eyes, of course, she doesn’t care she’s walked into an awkwardly bright ‘surprise’ where the guests are uncomfortably half crouched behind furniture and the bar. She’s human fucking sunshine, she has no idea Harry just ruined it all – lest if she does, she doesn’t care. Niall waves to everyone from behind Amelia’s embrace to get on with the party, so the jukebox kicks in and people start to crawl their way to all the pink vodka sitting atop the polished bar.

Louis, Liam and I are finally able to stretch our legs, and Harry’s attention shifts back to his phone. It takes everything in me not to follow him and beat the everliving shit out of that motherfu–

“Charlie! You’re here too!”

My violent thoughts are cut off by Amelia suddenly before me, beaming and looking kind of surprised. A little offended, I engulf her in a hug, trying not to spiral into why my best friend seems shocked I’m at her birthday party. She just thought we’d be in Ireland, that’s all. Nothing to do with me. Or my schedule. Or my not being there lately.

We pull from each other, my mouth opening to wish her a happy birthday, say anything, but Louis pulls her into a hug and my distracted eyes catch Harry behind her. The rage that fills me at just the sight of his back is so familiar at this point, I live day and night with the feeling. I realise Amelia’s busy enough with the tens of people who came to celebrate her, so slinking away to the bar is easy enough.

"Your phone seems to be working fine, then."

I take up the sticky leather stool beside him, making him jump a little as he’s entirely engrossed in his device. God, he’s like a toddler. Harry sighs, setting his apparent lifeline face down atop the bar before tilting in his chair to face me, our denim-covered knees bashing together in the process.

"What are you talking about?"

My tongue pokes at my cheek to stop myself from biting his head off.

"I texted you. Like a million times."

"Ah,” he lifts his chin, “I had you blocked years ago, princess."

Why doesn't that surprise me? I roll my eyes and turn to face the racks of liquor, eyeing which bottle I'd most like to drown in first. A Harry-shaped blob moves in my peripheral, propping it’s elbow on the wood and leaning it’s head against it’s palm.

"I'm kidding. I was driving, I picked Amelia up.

"You picked her up?!” And I thought I couldn’t get angrier.

"That's what 'I picked up Amelia' means, yes."

I scramble for words, for sanity. "Why?"

"Her studio was on the way and I had time to kill."

He’s un-fucking-believable, “you couldn't have at least let her walk in first?"

At this point, I genuinely can't tell if Harry really forgot this was meant to be a surprise or if he’s just that self-centred. Probably a healthy mix of both.

"Apparently not. Now, this is lovely," he straightens, grabs his phone and nods to someone behind the bar. I follow his gaze, seeing (predictably) Rachel waiting beside the staff exit, bottom lip between her teeth, a joint between her fingers, "but I'm going to talk to people I actually like."

I let his little comment slide, settling for a scoff and a grumble beneath my breath as he disappears behind the bar. Slinging his arm around Rachel, Harry takes the joint from her and the two of them enter the smoking area together.

"Hey, stranger."

I snap out of my frustration-fuelled daze, blinking back to a reality where Zayn’s standing before me – all kind whiskey eyes and awaiting smiles and inky marks peaking from his usual black shirt. I grin, the type of happiness I only ever get from him distracting me and pulling me back to Earth.

"Z, hey!"

"What're you drinking?" He slings a towel over his shoulder, leaning his forearms against the bar as he becomes close. Dangerously close. Close enough for me to smell his sagey aftershave and spilt liquor. I hum, avoiding his eye to browse the racks again.

We met Zayn years ago when trying to discover bars that wouldn’t be swamped with paps, and all became fast friends with him when he offered us discounted drinks for tattoo practice. And, low and behold, three years down the line, we're all borderline alcoholics with shitty tattoos.

Him and the pap-less element of Malibu’s keeps us the dive bar’s most loyal customers, because fuck me if the drinks aren’t bad. Zayn’s one of the best people I know – terrible bartender, though. The worse. He's always said bartending is just a way to make ends meet while he works on his art, and I believe him, but God I hope he meets those ends soon. I'm always cautious when ordering from him, and as much as I'd love to get absolutely wasted tonight, alcohol poisoning's probably not the way to go.

"Tequila?"

"Right up," he winks, turning to grab some Don from the top rack. While he's getting my shots ready, I notice Harry’s return: Rachel-less and a little more rugged than before. He coughs as he sulks behind me and takes his seat back up, brushing his long locks back and behind his ears. I squint my eyes as I study him; he messes with his hair, then coughs again, then adjusts the buttons on his shirt, and then messes with his hair one last time.

Zayn lays out three shots accompanied by three limes and three pots of salt, and after Harry has ordered himself a whiskey I can't help myself.

"Five minutes has to be a record."

He sighs, nodding thanks toward Zayn after he sets down the glass and leaves to serve another customer.

"Try not to sound too jealous, Charlie."

I scoff, preparing myself for my first shot, “what of? A five-minute snog?"

"Eugh," Harry splutters. I pause while lining up a line of salt on the back of my hand.

"What?"

"That word."

I pique, "what word? Snog?"

He shudders, bringing his glass up to his lips. “Don’t say it again."

"God, you're twelve," I take a deep breath – I'm terrible at shots – lick the salt, shoot the shot, and suck the lime till the bitterness overpowers the petrol-like burning stops it’s Hellish trail down my throat, "what would you call it then?" The question leaves me a little rougher than I intended, and Harry’s low chuckle at my struggle seems to prolong the recovery time.

"I don't know," he clears his throat, "how about we do it then you tell me?"

I pause, once again, mid-line. He full-on belly laughs, now.

"You're disgusting," this one seems to go down harsher, but something in me tells me it's because Harry just put that image in my head.

"Least I'm not bagging free drinks from my ex."

I shake my head, my eyes squeezed shut while I juggle recovering and coming back with something witty.

"They're not free," fumbled the witty thing, seemingly, “and he’s not my ex.”

I push the two empty glasses aside, mentally preparing myself for my third and final shot. The good thing about my alcohol tolerance is that it is worryingly low. These shots will do me for the next few hours; enough to have me dancing on tables, not enough to make my head bang any more than it usually does in the show we have tomorrow.

“Right,” he gives me a look behind the whiskey glass, the rim just brushing his bottom lip as his arched brows raise, “just someone you used to frequently bang and cried about, what was it… five times one night?”

"Whatever," I’m sick of this salt now, "at least I have somewhat of an ex," I coat my tongue with the bitter crystals, asking a muffled, "how long was your relationship, again?"

Harry swallowed the last of his whiskey, "five minutes, according to you.”

taglist: @lilfreakjez @be-with-me-so-happily

[hannahssimblr]

Chapter Six (Part 2)

Jen, as expected, does not enjoy the exhibition. “I just don’t understand how this is art.” She says as the three of us look at a bean shaped piece of rusted metal that hangs on chains from the ceiling. “It’s just ugly, and it makes no sense to me. I’m sorry if that makes me sound ignorant, but I just don’t see the skill in this.”

Jude shrugs. “It’s not really about the skill though. It’s all in the process.” I walk over and read the little snippet about the piece. It was created by a woman who made a mould of her entire body, lay there still for hours while it dried, and then encased the entire thing in metal like a cocoon. It is a commentary about female oppression and mental illness, and I think I get it. 

“It’s supposed to evoke a reaction” I say, hoping that I don’t sound pretentious. “And I guess you being confused by it counts as a reaction, so you could say that it’s done its job”

Jude nods in agreement and I am secretly thrilled by this. “Art stopped being about perfect, realistic impressions a century ago anyway, like there’s no real value in painting a scene that looks photorealistic anymore. If I wanted to portray a group of people in a park, or a pretty mountain view, I would just get a camera and take a photo. Nowadays it’s all about how you feel when you look at something, even if that feeling is anger or frustration, at least you’re not feeling nothing.”

I think to myself that he sounds very smart when he talks about art, intimidatingly so, and I imagine that somehow that must mean he must be a very talented artist too. “I like the floating bean.” I announce. “I agree about it being ugly, but it’s powerful, the way it’s just hanging here in a big empty room.”

“Hmm, yes, powerfully dull.” Jen says, and we laugh. “I don’t know, guys, I think I’m going to go browse in the gift shop. I’m not picking up what this exhibition is putting down.”

“Okay” Jude shrugs. “We’ll meet you down there afterwards.” Jen hits the stairs then as Jude and I walk into the next room. We start reading the explanation of the next exhibit, which is a looping video on an old 90s era television of a man taking off all his clothes very slowly and then climbing into a bed. 

For some reason I am very aware of the nearness of him when we are next to each other. We aren’t touching, but it’s like I am standing in his aura or something. “Hm, Cool.” He speaks softly and my neck tingles like I can feel his breath on me even though I know it’s all in my head. I feel slightly panicky, and a part of me wishes that Jen was still here to act as a buffer. 

“So what’s your deal?” He asks me as we walk through another exhibition.

“To be honest, there’s not much to say about me.”

“Of course there is!”

“No, well, I'm not that interesting, is all, and I don’t want to bore you.”

“Seriously, I want to know.”

“Well…” I start hesitantly. “Like, Tullamore is dull, I go to an all girls school, and really, nothing very interesting happens day to day.”

“So you wish you could leave.”

“Yeah, all the time. I kind of feel like… I don’t know, like I don’t belong there or something. It’s a small town and I think I’m just a bit different from a lot of people.”

“Yeah, I understand that.” For some reason I know that he means it, and he’s not just saying it to make me feel better. 

“I’d love to be somewhere with likeminded people. That’s why I really envy you going to Berlin, I just imagine what it’d be like to be able to be fully myself and everyone would be just… fine with it.”

He looks surprised when I mention him going away. “Oh well, it was an easy choice for me. I feel the same as you sometimes too, like I just want to know what else is out there. I don’t want to go back to the US, but I don’t really want to stay in Ireland either.” He shrugs. “I don’t know about needing to be a different person though. Don’t you think that if you were yourself here then people would be fine with it?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I’ve such a history of being… odd, and doing weird things, and I don’t know if i can come back from that. I’d rather just start again and be a new, better version of myself somewhere else.” I don’t really know why I’m telling him this, to be honest. It feels way too personal, but for some reason I feel like he genuinely wants to know, like he’s not asking just to be polite and keep the conversation going. 

We sit down on a bench together and look at a huge, grotesque sculpture made of rubbish and beer cans. “What about your friends though?” He asks me. “And your boyfriend? Don’t they like this current version of you?”

I let out a surprised snort of laughter and then clamp my hands over my mouth. I don’t know what that sound was, but it’s too late to shove it back in. Jude laughs at me, looking perplexed and then I do too. “Sorry, I don’t know what that was.”

“Did I say something I shouldn’t have? Sorry, your reaction was just-”

“No no, just you said that Liam is my boyfriend and-”

“Oh, shit, he’s not? My bad, I just assumed.” 

I smile to myself at our awkwardness – he seems embarrassed, which I find really disarming, and I really don’t want him to feel bad. “No, he’s not. I don’t know what he is, we just hang out and… stuff. He’s a really nice person.”

“He is.” He doesn’t say anything for a moment then and just looks straight ahead at the horrible sculpture with a concentrated face. “Hm.” He says eventually “I always feel so bad about Liam.”

“What? Why?”

“Because we used to be so mean to him when we were younger.”

“Really?” “Yeah, he was just this happy little kid, he always wanted to be involved with us, but it was like, he was always way too eager, you know what I mean? We thought he was this hokey little country boy, we used to think it was really funny to mess with him.”

“What kind of things did you do?”

“Nothing terrible. Just… it was more like…” I can see him thinking hard, trying to find the right words to explain himself. “He thought that we were really grown up or something, I guess, and he wanted to come and hang out the whole time, which was fine. The guys just had this thing about not sharing our drink with him, you know, because it’d be a waste because he’d just end up getting sick and having to get his mother to come and pick him up from the party. So we started pouring him drinks out of a vodka bottle filled with water, and he never noticed.” He grins a little with the memory of it, and I can tell that he’s still a bit amused by it.

“That’s not bad” I reassure him. “That’s actually responsible in my opinion, and I honestly wish that Kelly would fall for that kind of trick, but she can sniff out alcohol like a bloodhound.”

“Nah, like the bad part is how much he really didn’t notice it. It was like a crazy placebo effect or something, and he’d still stumble around like he was drunk. We thought it was hilarious.” He turns and looks at me as he’s talking, and I realise that I feel totally pulled along with him. It’s like he’s the most interesting person in the world right now and I am hanging on his every word. “And then one time when we were fifteen Joe got weed from this guy in town and everyone was dying to try it, but like, Liam was there and we knew it’d be a bad idea to give him some.”

“So what did you do?”

“The classic – I got some herbs from the kitchen cabinet and rolled them up for him, and then guess what?”

“He didn’t notice?”

“Right! He didn’t even notice. He smoked our little fake joint and then-” He’s chuckling now at the memory, and I’m honestly feeling a bit embarrassed. Not for Liam, but to my great shame, of him. “-and then after an hour he was rolling around on the rug saying that he could taste colours and that like, the fibres of the rug felt so soft. We had to get his mother to collect him again.” He lets out this hilarious sounding cackle, and then I start laughing too, mostly at the sound he made, but also a little bit at the story. I shake my head, “You’re a mean boy.”

“I know!” He says wildly. “I’m a bastard.” He gets up and signals towards the next room. “We should go and see the rest of the exhibits. I don’t want to leave Jen down in the gift shop all day, she’ll be bored.”

“Okay” I say, and then I feel kind of bad about talking to him so much, I remind myself that he came here to look at art, not talk to me about Liam and my feelings all day. 

Prev // Next

[olympeline]

Now I’ve watched my first Eurovision, here are some thoughts and opinions on the results:

I don’t think Nemo deserved to win. His song was good, don’t get me wrong, but there were others that were better (Croatia, France, Israel). I’d put him in the top quarter but not at #1. I’m not on social media bar this little niche account but I’ve heard people are saying he won because he’s transgender. And because Switzerland is a traditionally neutral country. I don’t believe that, personally. It’s too tinfoil hat conspiracy theory for me. I think he won because the jury thought The Code was the best song for the radio. As in it’s the candidate likely to have mass appeal and sell the most singles. That’s my theory anyway 🇨🇭

And yeah, I agree with everyone else: Croatia was robbed. I don’t understand this result at all. Why was the jury so hard on him? My only theory is it’s a case of professional critics being snobby and deciding that because the public likes something it automatically becomes low brow and less artistic? That’s the only reason I can think of. Seriously two twelves out of thirty-seven? Whyyyy. I’m 100% on team #AbolishTheJury after this 🥲 🇭🇷

I didn’t like Ireland’s entry when I first listened to it and I still think the vocals are weak but the act as a whole? Strongest visuals in the competition. Just top tier costumes and staging. Is it right to do that well in a song contest if you’re carried by visuals? Hmmm. I don’t know. Like strip away all that flash and would you put Bambie Thug that high? Hmm. Uuhh? Mmmm? Not sure. It was like the opposite of France’s entry which had minimal effects and was carried solely by his song. So yeeaahh, IDK? Don’t know how I feel about Ireland’s high ranking. I could go either way 🇮🇪

Speaking of France, OMG, what a beautiful performance! Easily the strongest vocals in the contest. The emotion as he sang gave me shivers. Croatia is my #1 but if Baby Lasagna wasn’t there I would have voted for Slimane. I’ve heard he’s already huge in France and I can see why! Mon amour 🇫🇷

Israel’s song was also just beautiful. So sad and heartfelt too. I heard Eden (sorry, forgot her surname) is only twenty? If so, wow! Was she the youngest in the whole contest? Either way that’s super young and yet she did an amazing job! I can’t imagine that much pressure at that age. She should be very proud 🇮🇱

Such a bummer that Joost got canned. I bet he kicked himself all the way home. Europapa was one of my favourite entries and I think it would have done really well if he was allowed to perform. Like I said, a real bummer but then you can’t go around punching people behind the scenes. They were right to disqualify him for that. Hopefully he apologises and his career can move on from this sad incident 🇳🇱

I’m surprised Spain scored so low. I thought Zorra would have done better. It was catchy and had a good message. Maybe it just got lost in the shuffle? Or was it because it wasn’t in English? I don’t know. Oh well. I still enjoyed it 🇪🇸

I don’t think Olly Alexander deserved zero points from the public. His song wasn’t that bad! IDK but I would have thought that for an entry to get zero, they’d have to be genuinely awful. As in nothing redeemable whatsoever. Dizzy wasn’t that. Don’t misunderstand, I don’t think Dizzy deserved anything higher than mid, but no points at all? Too harsh. At least Olly already has a career to go back to. Still must have been crushing when the points were read out. Though he took it like a champ. Poor guy 🇬🇧

Finland was so much fun! What an absolute madlad. I unironically love No Rules! and the staging was so clever too. I wish he got more points though I’m not really surprised he didn’t. Still. We all need more Windows95Man in our lives 🇫🇮

I’m surprised Portugal did so well. Sorry to all my portubros but I found her song pretty boring. I couldn’t even remember it when the results were being read out. I think I get why the jury loved Switzerland so much but their love for Portugal confuses me. I guess they saw something in the song I didn’t? Different strokes 🇵🇹

Did Norway deserve to come last? It’s another one I have trouble remembering so ehhh, mayyybeee? It’s hard because I don’t think any of the entries were outright bad. Just some were a bit dull and didn’t leave much of an impression on me. I suppose last place has to go to someone. Hopefully next year will be better for them 🇳🇴

[mostly-potato]

Electricity: Six Quick Memories of the Avalanches

(1) I am literally a small child, visiting my super cool auntie in Long Beach. We go to the record store Fingerprints to buy a special sheet of stickers. My favorite one is a photo of a turtle with an old man’s face on it. Yen loves this band and promises to burn me a CD. 

(2) Anthony and I are on the phone talking about his first few weeks at college. He met a guy, Jake the DJ, and they bonded over the album Since I Left You. Instead of being excited that our shared world is expanding and I already have things in common with his new friends, I feel sour and petty. He’s taking my gift to him and sharing it with someone else. I feel so left behind at home. 

(3) Halloween 2011 at UCSC! I’ve just broken up with my ex-boyfriend again. I’m wearing my most creative costume to date (Bumble, the Abominable Snowmonster of the North). My new friend Eliza and I are running around the dorms. We’re looking for drinks and neat places to hang. We walk into the room of a guy dressed as an eerily accurate version of Heath Ledger’s Joker. He’s got weird vibes, but I look past it. He’s playing “Since I Left You.” It’s going to be okay. 

(4) I’ve got a huge grin on my face as Lola opens her Christmas present. Two tickets and a camping pass for Coachella! I know I swore it off forever, but the Avalanches are on the lineup and I just think it’d be so special if we--wait, what’s wrong? Oh, you just booked a trip to Ireland with Elaine during that weekend. Huh, okay. I hope you have fun. No, it’s all good. I’m sure I can sell these. 

(5) Elvid and I are at the Fonda in Hollywood. This it is not-at-all a consolation prize for my failed desert surprise. Everything about this evening has been juuust okay (traffic on the drive, dinner at Roscoe’s, people squawking next to us) but all that meh melts away when I hear those soft wailing sounds. It’s “Electricity” and it’s all for me.

(6) The audio is wrong. Sleepy Man doesn’t believe me, but I insist his iPod’s version of “Frontier Psychiatrist” is wrong. The radio announcer’s voice is too loud, not crunchy enough. He says it’s fine, slightly annoyed that I dare to question his knowledge of musica obscura. I can’t stop. It’s not about being right. It’s about truth. It’s about having a grip on reality and control over your perceptions. Do I need therapy? Psychosomatic? He looks it up and sheepishly concedes “Yeah, this is a different version.”

[unreadpoppy]

These are my thoughts about each performance + the semi in general

Few things first: I talk a lot about not understanding the words, that is not about the singers accent, it’s about how their singing. A lot of the first few acts were crouching, laying down, and that fucks up your voice a lot. A lot of them were also very breathy and they were not opening their mouth to sing, so this is way more about vocal technique.

Second, Eurovision may try to be apolitical but i am not, however Israel and Azerbaijan’s place in my ranking is because I genuinely did not like their songs and their performances.

Love that the postcards show a place in Ukraine and then show a similar place in the singers country.

Norway:

Meh. The only song I heard before the ESC, and the vocals were very bad (she sounded out of breathe most of the time). The outfit was definetly a choice (TM), cause it wasn’t very good looking and it seemed to hinder her movement. The dancers were the best parts

Malta:

Very fun and I liked them showing previous Malta singers! I didn’t understand much of the lyrics besides feel better in my sweater and do you wanna dance but it reminded me a lot of discotheque

Serbia:

My biggest pet peeve is singers laying down so thank good it was over soon. Conceptually, it’s interesting but I also can barely understand what being sung, to the point where I’m not sure if the whole song is in Serbian or English. The singer is very good looking tho

Latvia:

Like the vocals, and the staging. I can understand something finally. Really liked the “beatboxing” and the lights. Also the other members of the band mouthing words along was fun to see. Is it just me or the songs these year are very short?

THE REST OF THE WORLD CAN VOTE THIS YEAR???? HELL YEAH BITCH!

The rapping was unexpected but not welcomed since it was better than i thought.

HOLY SHIT ITS THE MAKING YOUR MIND UP GANG (I don’t remember the name of the group sorry)

I’m gonna go hard on Portugal since they colonized my country

Portugal:

Thank god it’s not fado. Weirdly love her dress. Everytime I hear a Portuguese person I am reminded that although we speak the same language I cannot understand their accent. Bitch I can’t believe I’m gonna say this but… this is the best singer so far. Like even with the accent, I’m understand a lot, her vocals are great (and she’s moving A LOT), it feels different and new, and it was a very fun performance, it made me wanna move.

Ireland:

This outfit is so sparkly Jesus Christ. Even though they look like a 80’s rejected Mamma Mia tribute act, they sound surprised good. Sir, why is your mic so far away from your mouth? The lyrics are corny tho. I wanna steal the pianists jacket.

Croatia:

ROCK EM ROLL BABY! Oh my god I love their outfits. I have no clue what the fuck I’m watching but I love it. Bitch they have to be queer, a straight person can’t come up with shit like this. I weirdly love this song. NOT THEM STRIPPING AND SOME GUY BRINGING ROCKETS?!?!?

Switzerland:

Please don’t sing in French. I beg of you. Love the singers voice. Humf it’s kinda deep and husky in the begging, I love it so much. Also love the piano in the beginning. But also what the hell are these pants. Love the slow down in the middle. And the ending was also pretty good!

I know there’s a whole thing with ESC and how they support Israel, so it might be hypocritical for me to watch the show and do this, but I will not comment on Israel perfomance.

Moldova:

By their hair, I can already tell Moldova’s gonna do something… interesting. Oh my god the guy on the flute caught me by surprise. Anyone who speaks Romanian can tell me if the song talks about scorpions or are the ladies hair just like… a choice? I feel like I’m watching a ritual or something. Also this song makes me want to get up and move my body. Also not the flautist proving the instruments are live cause there were 2 times where his mouth wasn’t blowing the flute.

Also love the hosts black dress with flames, she looks fucking awesome.

The Croatia guys are really serving looks this ESC. Love that for them. Actually, most people looked pretty good in that carpet.

Sweden:

Everybody knows Loreen’s gonna qualify just because she is loreen, and listen I have nothing against her is just that I usually don’t like Sweden’s entries. And I also I’m not the biggest Euphoria fan (it’s a good song it just wasn’t my winner). Also is she indigenous (genuine question)?

Okay this song is pretty good, I just wish she’d get up. The chorus sound fun but I have no clue what the words are tbh. I’m just understanding uh-oh-uh. Also love her outfit.

Oh my god Filomena Cautela is gonna show up!

Azerbaijan:

Not gonna lie I might be biased because of Azerbaijan-Armenia conflict, especially in 2020/2021, but this song is just meh. But also the fact that they entered this contest in 2008 and they have yet to send a song in their language… damn (same critique to Sweden, who hasn’t sent a song in Swedish in so fucking long).

Czechia:

Already love this. Not the biggest fan of the English verses. Love the hair and outfit, and the overall vibe, makes me want to punch a man in the balls. Bora galera mulheres.

Netherlands:

This dude looks likes a esquerdomacho, I’m sorry, I bet he’s great IRL. I already don’t like this song for some reason. I don’t know it feels like those trying too much to have a meaning when it has 0. However, cookie points for calling God she.

Finland:

Not the song being called Cha Cha Cha. Okay this song is very different than what I thought it would be, but I like it. Always trust Finland to bring something different to the table. Not the song completely changing vibes halfway through. What the fuck was this human centered but make it fucking happened? This feels like an acid trip. The dancers smiling is giving me there is no war in Bah Sing Se.

Hold up. You HAVE TO PAY TO VOTE???? EUROPE WHAT THE FUCK???? I was so excited to vote but do I look like I shit gold to pay for this in EUROS???? Fuck off.

ALYOSHA OH MY GOD, YES! I don’t care about the British lady but oh my gosh sweet people girl is back. Lowkey wished the whole song was in Ukrainian and it was just Alyosha. Also the staging of this performance, very powerful.

Also will Ruslana and Jamala show up (I think they probably will I just want to know if it’s in the Semis or the Final).

Does anyone actually care about Rita Ora? Seriously, just bring more previous Ukrainian entries, they were more interesting.

I like how they showed the UK and Ukraine’s history being somewhat interconected in this competition. Also Graham Norton is always a gem.

Awwwn I loved watching the reaction from Ukraine’s commentator from their win last year.

Oh god this god forsaken Irish turkey…

NOT MALTA’S SINGER WITH A WOODY TOY

They really gonna act like Mans was just a host and not a full on winner?

VAMPIRES ARE ALIVE I KNEW THEY WOULD SHOW THEM FOR THIS GAME!

I’m gonna count how many points I get. Okay I got all 3 points so far. I… I’m not proud how much I know.

I don’t why the finish dude has so much autistic swag for me for some reason. Not gonna lie I think the unicorn thing is so ridiculous, I hate it actually. I love malta’s vibe.

Oh god they gonna talk about Rock in eurovision.

Man I love Julia and Hannah. This air guitar thing was fun. Man the Ted Lasso lady is doing great as hosting things this year.

Instead of big five I heard “big fry”

Love Germany already. They look hot. KKKKKKKK THE GERMAN AND THE FRENCH SAYING THEIR KIDS AND THE ITALIAN TALKING ABOUT PLANTS. This Italian dude is a vibe, god.

Y’all the French entry does sound good but it looses me with the “France” belt. Like I already don’t like French or France in general, and they do this, c’mon.

Oh my god this German dude I love him. Y’all I already love the German entry. Fuck I’m gonna root for them. I mean the song is called blood and glitter, they already won for me. Also his makeup is stellar.

Oh my god I knew I knew Marco from somewhere, he was the 2013 entry. Italy always brings a song that makes me love them all over again. His vocals are beautiful, although the outfit is not the greatest. Yes I will sleep more Marco, don’t worry.

Okay my ranking (this was harder than I thought because most songs were not good):

Portugal

Croatia

Czechia

Finland

Switzerland

Sweden

Moldova

Malta

Latvia

Serbia

Norway

Ireland

Israel

Azerbaijan

Netherlands

Israel, Serbia and Norway qualifying are beyond me but I’m happy with the rest, just wished Malta qualified.

[elysiadjarin]

Day 2: Breeding Kink

Day 2 of Kinktober and… I got carried away with this one. The others are not going to be nearly as long as this one, so you guys are gonna be spoiled with this. I hope you enjoy it! Find my Kinktober Masterlist here.

Warnings: Minors DNI, this is 18+ only content. Some warnings for violence and blood mentioned, though nothing too graphic. PinV sex, unprotected, consensual, nonhuman character, exophilia, slight hint of biting kink

Tags: Dilf!werewolf x reader, exophilia, kinktober

Moonlight Through Colored Leaves

When you’d first moved to the tiny Irish town in the middle of nowhere, you’d originally hoped to escape the family drama that haunted you back in America. Thanks to your grandfather’s Irish immigration, you’d been able to get an Irish citizenship and move relatively easily. So, you’d packed your bags, only told your grandfather where you were going, and boarded the first flight to Ireland you could catch.

You’d quietly made your way to your grandfather’s tiny hometown far out in the countryside, and moved into the long-since abandoned house that had belonged to your ancestors before. Though it had been run down and you’d had to do some major repairs and cleaning, you’d finally made a cozy cottage on the outskirts of the small village-like town.

The town had been quite welcoming and friendly, and you’d quickly found a job working at the local town pub as a waitress. Your boss had been very welcoming, and you’d earned favor from your coworkers and boss for your hard work and quiet, unassuming diligence. The pay was good, and you found yourself growing comfortable in the sleepy town life, meeting your neighbors and getting familiar with the town dynamics.

You’d just gone in for your shift of the day when conversation caught your ear. You put on your waitress apron, pulling your hair up into a ponytail and walking out to the bar to grab your tray.

“Did you hear about the news?” Jaina asked, arms propped on the countertop. “I mean, about that Romanian vamp that landed on Scotland the other day. Word is that he’s headed this way.”

“Well why would it want teh come here?” Sean snorted. “We’re out in teh middle o’ nowhere, Janie, t’ere ain’t not’in’ here t’at it would want.”

“Well didn’t you hear that apparently they’re expecting Agent Blue to be chasing it down with the Dullahan?” Jaina hissed. “Why wouldn’t they come over here?”

You hid your discreet grimace, instead walking out in front of the bar. To your delight and surprise, you found yourself facing a familiar little figure sitting at the bar in a corner. The little girl caught sight of you and squealed, waving.

You went over to her giving her a hug. “Well hello there, Miss Morrigan,” you greeted cheerfully. “How are you this fine evening? Having a drink?” you teased, noticing the glass of juice near her notebook.

She giggled, nodding. “Yeah! I’m with Daddy today,” she answered, feet kicking against the bar. She turned her head to see the bartender approaching. “Daddy!” she said excitedly. “Look, it’s the nice neighbor lady I told you about!”

You looked up to see Lysander Sullivan standing there, polishing a glass with a cloth. He gazed down at his daughter with a fond look deep in his eyes, then turned to look at you, his ice blue eyes meeting yours.

“Is that so?” he asked, his deep voice a low rumble in the relatively quiet bar. It hadn’t gotten to heavy traffic times, so there weren’t many people around yet. His grey-flecked hair had been swept back into an elastic band, and his beard had been neatly trimmed.

You gave him a small, shy smile, a little embarrassed. Though you knew that the man lived next to your property, you’d been a bit timid about approaching him. He was a kind enough gentleman from everything you’d seen and heard, and he’d watched out for you as you worked, but you didn’t see any reason why he’d be interested in any further contact with you. After all, you were a younger woman in your mid-twenties that lived alone.

“Yeah! She helps me with homework sometimes,” Morrigan prattled on, “and she lets me water her flowers!”

You laughed a little, feeling the color splash across your cheeks. “Well, I certainly enjoy the little Queen’s company,” you admitted. You’d heard some of the other workers gossip about Lysander, saying that he was a single father to nine-year-old Morrigan and that her mother had died in a tragic accident. You didn’t really know, and you’d tried not to pry or overhear too much. The man had a right to privacy, just like you had things you were running from as well.

“Thank you for looking out for the little cub,” Lysander said, a small smile crossing his face. He mellowed out around his daughter, his love clear in how he interacted with her.

“Of course. It’s a delight,” you said, smiling at Morrigan. “She’s a smart little cookie, aren’t you, Queenie?” you asked, tugging at her pigtail teasingly.

She giggled. “Yeah!” Then she tilted her head at you. “Are you working with Daddy tonight?” she asked curiously.

“O-oh, well, sort of,” you stammered, taken aback a little. “He works behind the counter, but I serve people out there,” you said, motioning to the tables. “So I guess we do, in a way.”

Morrigan nodded sagely. “Ohhh, so you do the food and Daddy does the drinks.” She nodded, satisfied at her conclusion. “Oh, I’m making a drawing! I want you to see it later, when I’m finished,” she said, tugging at your sleeve.

You smiled. “Of course, Queenie. You just let me know and I’ll pop by when I have a moment, alright?” you promised.

She nodded, turning back to her notebook and picking up her crayons again. Tongue poked out, she diligently returned to her masterpiece. You gave her a fond smile, noting the way the soft lights made a halo in her blonde hair.

“She’s such an angel,” you murmured, grabbing some straws from the bar to stick into your pocket.

“Aye, that she is.” Lysander’s comment almost startled you. He glanced at you across the bar, the sleeves of his crisp maroon button-up rolled halfway up his arms. “I apologize for not bein’ a better neighbor,” he remarked.

You blinked, then reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear. “Oh, no— not at all,” you blurted, then gave him a chagrined smile. “I’m the one who should be apologizing. I’d met Morrigan when she was coming back from school, since I was in the front yard. She just… hopped on over, so I said hi. Honestly I should have introduced myself better, but…” You bit your lip. “I just kept putting it off because I didn’t want to bother you…”

He blinked, then chuckled slightly, as though surprised. “An’ here I thought it was ‘cause you didn’t really like me for some reason,” he said, amusement laced in his tone.

You gave him a horrified look. “Oh! Not at all!” You shook your head with a sigh, tugging mournfully at your ponytail. “I’m… notoriously bad at meeting people for the first time,” you groaned. “I just get nervous and tongue tied and I don’t know how to interact and… ugh.” You winced. “I am sorry, Mr. Sullivan. I should be a better neighbor, especially since I somehow got to know your daughter.” You half-laughed at yourself.

He waved you off. “I’m just glad you get along with Mor,” he chuckled. “She speaks endlessly about you. Seems like you’ve impressed her.”

You looked up at him, genuinely surprised. “Really?” you wondered, glancing at the girl. Then you smiled. “Well, I’m flattered. She’s such a smart, curious girl. I’m rather honored that she’d find me interesting.” You breathed a laugh, then glanced up at him. “I should get to my station, but… if you don’t mind, would it be alright if I swung by tomorrow to say hi and properly introduce myself?”

He nodded calmly. “Of course. She gets back home from school at three, if you wanted to catch her as well.”

You nodded, propping the tray on your hip. “Thank you! I’ll do that. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll stop procrastinating and actually start working,” you laughed, and walked off with a wave.

The night progressed relatively smoothly, customers rotating in and out with regulars stopping by. The crowds ebbed and flowed, sometimes more rowdy and sometimes more calm. Still, you enjoyed the atmosphere and the liveliness of it all. Despite it being a pub, and an Irish one at that, the town was small and most people knew everyone else. Plus, Lysander was the bartender for more than one reason. Everyone knew that making trouble of any sort was not tolerated and had force to back it up.

You occasionally popped by Morrigan’s place at the bar, either to have a chat or to admire the progress she’d made on her drawing. And throughout the night, your worries started to mount the more gossip you heard around the pub. Some of them had heard confirmation that the Romanian vampire gone mad was making a beeline for Ireland, though no one seemed to know why. There were even more rumors that Agent Blue, the famous Will-o-the-Wisp, was after the rampaging Pricoli. And still others said that the Scott Pack would be making a reappearance.

Once you’d finished your shift and helped close up shop, you started the trudge back to your cottage down the road. It wasn’t a far walk, really, and it gave you some time to think and clear your head from the smells of the pub. Reaching up, you pulled your hair free from the ponytail and sighed, shoulders slumping.

You’d come to Ireland to escape your problems, but it felt like they were all closing in on you as the days went by. As you got home and got ready for bed, you wondered if it was asking too much to hope for some peace.

Instead, you distracted yourself by trying to think of something to make for the Sullivans the next day. You didn’t want to go empty handed, after all. Maybe some bread-?

You fell asleep thinking about it.

~

You’d just lifted your hand to knock when the door flung open. Morrigan practically tackled you, wrapping her arms around your waist with a shriek of greeting.

Laughing, you balanced yourself and wrapped an arm around her. “Well hello, Queenie,” you greeted. “It’s wonderful to see you.”

She grabbed your hand and dragged you in, chattering happily about her day at school. “Oh, and you should have heard how everyone laughed!” She interrupted herself as she led you into the kitchen. “Daddy, she’s here!” she called.

Trying to balance the homemade sourdough in one hand while still holding Morrigan’s with the other, you looked up to give Lysander a helpless smile. “Hello, Mr. Sullivan,” you greeted, a little breathlessly.

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching up in amusement. “Well hallo, Miss,” he greeted back, wiping his hands with a towel. “Mor, why don’t you let her set the plate down before anything drops,” he said, shaking his head.

Morrigan let go of your hand, bouncing up and down. “Ooh, what is it?”

You offered it to Lysander, a little flustered. “I… well, I didn’t really want to come without an offering, so… I made some homemade sourdough,” you offered, a little awkwardly. “I hope you like it, it’s a fresh batch, still warm.”

He took it from you with a nod. “Thank you. We love sourdough, don’t we, Mor?” He seemed far more comfortable in his own home, less stoic and stern than in the pub.

Morrigan nodded, throwing up her hands with a cheer. “Yeah!” She danced around. “I love bread!” Then she grabbed your hand again. “Oh, oh, you gotta come see my room! Daddy just made me a new desk, and it’s really nice and shiny!”

Lysander waved you off as you turned to him. “Go ahead. Oh, I was going to invite you to dinner,” he added. “If you’d like. The food is almost done, actually. Your bread will be a perfect addition.”

You smiled. “I’d be honored. Thank you.” Then you let Morrigan drag you away.

By the time Lysander called for you both, you’d been given the official tour of her room and had happily listened to her tell stories of what she’d done at school and the projects she planned to do in the coming days. The little girl always cheered you up with her bright and cheerful presence. If anything, it eased your heart to see the little girl clearly so healthy and happy with her Father. She openly adored him, quite the Daddy’s girl.

As the three of you sat down at the table, you realized with a slight start that you’d never felt so comfortable in Ireland as you did in this moment. It felt… right, like you’d finally come home.

“Thank you for the food,” you said, giving Lysander a grateful smile. “It looks amazing.” The soup simmered in the bowls, while the sourdough bread had been cut into slices and set by the butter.

He nodded. “Thank you for the bread.” He passed the steamed potatoes, and everyone dug into the meal.

You let out a soft hum of contentment as you ate, enjoying the rich flavors and the homey comfort food. Clearly Lysander was a good cook, and you almost envied Morrigan for being able to come home to this every night. Not that you weren’t a good cook yourself, but you supposed company really did make a difference.

“The bread is so good!” Morrigan chirped, taking a giant bite of the bread slathered in butter.

You laughed softly. “I’m glad, Queenie. Take it slow,” you warned, worried she’d choke. “The bread isn’t going anywhere.”

She nodded, scarfing down her food. “Oh, oh, Daddy, cartoons are on soon! Can I please go watch? I did all my homework!”

Lysander nodded. “Alright. Go take your dishes to the sink.”

“Thank you! Morrigan cheered, sliding down from her chair and carefully taking the dishes. She trotted to the kitchen, then got herself a glass of juice and went to go to the living room.

You realized with a slight start that this was the first time you’d been alone with Lysander. Looking down at your spoonful, you wondered if you should maybe ask him the questions that pressed on your mind. Perhaps he would know. Then again… it’s not as though he were related to your grandfather’s clan… and not to mention, most of the people in the town didn’t even know that you were aware of the nonhuman community. In fact, you were rather positive that your coworkers thought you didn’t.

“If I may ask, what brought you to this small town?” Lysander asked, his voice calm and mellow. His blue eyes glanced up at you, and the question died on your tongue.

“Oh… family history, actually,” you admitted with a smile. “And, well…” You shrugged lightly. “I needed to get away for a while. I wanted a fresh start, somewhere where people didn’t really know me.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “I essentially did the same with Morrigan when we moved here a few years ago.”

You hummed, reaching for a piece of bread. He handed you the butter, and you gently grasped the sleeve of his flannel for a moment. “You’ve got a bit on your clothes,” you said, wiping the smeared butter off with a napkin. You’d just let go when your fingers brushed across his briefly as you took the butter. You didn’t notice the way he froze, his movements jerky as he pulled his hand back.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “Do you— I mean, does any of your family still live here?”

You shook your head. “Not exactly. But technically, my extended family is here. My grandfather immigrated from Ireland to America, where I was born, but through marriage there are still people here I’m technically connected to.” You shrugged. “I haven’t really gotten in contact with them, though. They probably don’t know me that well,” you laughed with a rueful shrug. You glanced at him for a moment. “I bet it’s even harder when you have children.”

He glanced toward the living room, where the faint sound of the cartoons floated through the house. “Well, I suppose,” he admitted thoughtfully. “Still, I wouldn’t trade it for anything. She’s my life, really.”

You lowered your eyes to your plate, unable to deny how your chest tightened at the way his voice softened when he spoke of his daughter. You’d always tried to forget how much you’d been attracted to the older man. You’d only ever dated once, and while he’d been nice enough and it had ended cordially, you still hadn’t been able to forget the lingering feeling of disappointment you’d had from the experience. You’d known, after that, that it would either be a long time before you ever tried dating again or it would have to be to someone whose maturity at least matched yours. And, unfortunately for you, that tended to mostly apply to men past their forties.

You really did try to forget how Lysander ticked all the boxes.

“I can see why.” You smiled. “She’s really precious.” Your eyes slid toward the living room. “Does she… inherit from you?”

Lysander looked up, his gaze suddenly piercing as he stared at you openly.

You gave him a faint smile. “I don’t talk much about it, but my grandfather comes from the local O’Connor Faoladh Tribe,” you said calmly, taking another sip of the soup.

His shoulders relaxed, the hard edge in his expression melting away. “Ah. Yes, she does. But she hasn’t fully shifted yet. It will be another year, we think. Are you-?”

You shook your head. “Oh, no. It’s funny, really,” you said thoughtfully, motioning with your spoon. “My grandfather is Faoladh, and my mother’s side of the family is a lycanthrope pack.” Your lips twitched. “And somehow, I got the recessive genes and ended up a simple Seer.”

His eyebrow raised. “Not so simple, I’d think,” he remarked. “Aren’t Seers rather uncommon now?”

You shrugged. “For a reason. There’s plenty of potential but not many who actively practice anymore. The price is heavy for knowledge like that.”

He gave you a discerning look. “Is that what you’re running from?”

Your silver spoon clinked softly as you set it down on the edge of the plate. “I suppose you could say that,” you murmured. Your eyes closed as you shoved away the memories of distant screaming, the crackle of fire, crimson splashed across stone floors— “Or maybe toward something.” After all, you mused, there had been a reason you’d felt drawn to your grandfather’s homeland, and town in particular. And of course, you’d never been one to fight Fate too hard.

“Perhaps so,” he conceded. Then he stood. “May I take your plate?”

“Oh— please, let me help.” You stood, taking your dishes and starting towards the kitchen. “At least let me wash or dry.”

When you finally got back home, you sat down on the couch and buried your face into your hands. Seeing Morrigan and Lysander together had stirred up old memories you’d long since tried to forget. Old desires that you’d thought you’d given up on: hopes and dreams of a family to call your own.

You crawled into bed, everything inside you aching. After all, what could a Seer with a cursed fate possibly offer anyone?

~

The night the Dullahan rode into town, you’d just started closing up the pub on night shift duty.

They’d ridden in, followed by the famous Agent Blue clad in his dark robes and carrying his lantern over his shoulder. He strode in the door, followed by the Dullahan. At first, you hadn’t even noticed the other figure trailing behind them.

Your Boss, Dorian, had walked out of the back room to greet them. He, of everyone in the town, was the only one to know of your heritage, as the elected leader of the supernatural community in the town. He nodded to the group as they entered.

“Welcome, Dullahan, Agent Blue.” He nodded at them, shaking the Will-o-the-Wisp’s hand.

“Greetings in return, Chief Dorian,” Agent Blue replied, his face still covered by the hood. “Apologies for the intrusion. I’m sure you’ve heard of the Pricoli that’s been running amok all over the Isles.”

Dorian nodded. “We certainly have. I assume you’ve come on a hunt.”

“We have. And I’ve brought someone with me.” Agent Blue turned, motioning towards the back of the group.

You’d been distracted, still working on trying to finish clearing up and getting out of the way. If your boss had asked, you were ready to offer to serve the new guests as well, giving Lysander a glance that he returned with a small nod.

It wasn’t until you straightened and turned around, finished, that you heard a familiar, startled voice call your name. Turning, you looked up and saw, to your shock, a very familiar face staring at you. You froze as the figure lunged forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. After a moment, you awkwardly hugged him back, mind whirling.

“What are you doing here?” Your younger brother stared at you incredulously, holding your arms. “I didn’t even know you left home! Last I heard you were still there.”

You grasped his sleeves, disoriented. “O-Oh. Ray,” you gasped, processing. “I—“ You suppressed a flinch. “I just… moved into grandfather’s old cottage,” you stammered, then looked down. “I had to get away,” you said quietly. “It was too much.”

Of all your family, you knew that Ray would best understand. He’d been the only one to really stand up for you back home, try to support you as best as he could, being a younger sibling. When everyone else constantly reminded you of your Fate, your Destiny, Ray had been the only one who had encouraged your personal hopes and dreams, had listened to your fears and worries.

He sighed. “I mean, I can’t blame you,” he said, shaking his head. “Still… does anyone know?”

You scoffed slightly, turning your head away. “Only Grandfather ever cared about me besides you, Ray. There’s no one else who probably even asked.” You shrugged. “How is school?” You’d been the one to support him when he decided to move to Scotland to attend University. He, too, had wanted to escape home.

He grinned. “Pretty great, actually!” Then he glanced behind him. “Turns out my best mate is actually one of Agent Blue’s sons, so when the whole Pricoli thing went down, I offered to be his in to the Faoladh Tribe here. For formality, y’know.” He shrugged. “I remembered what Grandfather had always taught us about how picky Faoladh are about tradition.”

You nodded. “Yeah…” You huffed slightly. “Technically only the people in here right now even know that I’m a part of the supernatural community,” you said dryly.

He raised an eyebrow. “That’s some dedication to keep it quiet. How has the local gossip train not found you out yet?”

You snorted. “Maybe because I’ve always been quiet and kept my mouth shut.” You rolled your eyes at him, though a smile twitched on your lips. “And we both know who never can.”

He playfully cuffed your shoulder. Then he grinned. “Oh, but guess what?” His eyes sparkled. “I found my Mate!”

Your eyes widened. “Really?” Your heart lightened for him, happy that your younger brother had finally found his Mate. “Does she know yet?”

He shook his head, face falling a little. Well, not yet. I mean, I’ve kinda only just met her and all, so… and it’s kinda awkward, cause…” He winced. “Well, she’s my best mate’s younger sister.”

You gave him an incredulous look, then sighed, shaking your head. “Well, good luck with that one, Ray,” you snorted. “You’ve gotten yourself into quite the situation with that one.”

He shrugged. “I know, but…” His grin turned goofy. “She’s so pretty. You should see her. She’s even pretty sassy, kinda like you are with me.”

You laughed softly, patting his arm. “Well, I’m glad I was able to catch up with you. If you need a place to stay, you know my house is always open to you.”

He nodded. “Thanks, sis. I should probably head back. I don’t know what else they might want me for.” He paused, then gave you an odd look. “Have you… found anyone?”

You blinked at him, startled. “What? Ray, you know what my Fate says.” You frowned.

An odd expression crossed his face, then he shook his head. “Yeah, I know. Just… don’t forget the promise you made me.”

You sighed. “I won’t, Ray.” As if you ever could, you thought with a hint of bitterness. He wouldn’t let you.

He squeezed your hand, slipping a piece of paper into your grasp. “Text me. I wanna keep in touch.”

You nodded, pocketing the note. “Thanks. Good luck, Ray. Stay safe.”

He nodded, then jogged back to Agent Blue with a wave. You were left to stand there, your heart sinking with every step he took away from you. Everything was lining up far too well. Though you’d vainly hoped to escape from the Fate that had hung over your head for so long, it seemed as though you’d just walked right into it instead.

Turning back to the bar, you quietly packed up your things. Bidding Lysander goodnight, you checked to make sure Dorian didn’t need you and headed back for home.

It was only a matter of time.

~

Rain splattered against the ground, heavy and thick like a curtain. Shielding your eyes from the drops, you pushed yourself to run, faster, as fast as you could. There was no time left to think.

The vision you’d had kneeling under the large Fae Maypole tree you’d found in the forest nearby kept flashing through your mind, insistent and horrific. Your Fate loomed, past and future meshing into the present in ways you could hardly stand. You’d thought you’d been running, cowardly but maybe safe from the Sword of Damocles—but now here you were, fallen headlong into the trap of the Fate you’d known since childhood would claim your life.

And yet your feet would not stop running, pushing you forward without hesitation. Was this not worth it? Was this Fate—this Fate that you’d feared for so long, hated and loathed and tried in futility to escape—was it truly so horrendous? Now that you were here? In this moment of truth?

You barreled up the steps, slamming your shoulder against the door without a pause. It broke, sending you headlong across the threshold to skid across the carpet. Ignoring the burn on your arm, you looked up as you heard a scream. Morrigan’s face stared at you, sheet white as she curled up in fear by the foot of the couch.

Jacking yourself up, you didn’t take time to glance behind you. “Mor, into the safe room,” you gasped, “your Daddy sent me, okay? I need you to get in the safe room, now.”

She nodded shakily, bravely scrambling to her feet and running towards the safe room that Lysander had made for her. Nothing would get through the doors, you knew, once they locked. You waited until you heard the lock click, then turned and scrambled back out the busted door.

In the empty area between your houses, out on the outskirts of the town, everything seemed oddly distant yet crystal clear. Your memories nudged at you, whispering about the deja vu that filled your every pore at the sight of the green, rolling grass and the relentless rain that poured over everything. In the distance, the red glare of a fire fueled by gas and undaunted by rain began to dominate the color of the sky.

It didn’t surprise you when cold fingers wrapped around your throat, leaving mottled bruises to bloom against your skin. You stood still, knowing that any movement might crush your throat. You may have been Fated to die, but not until you’d finished your task.

The enraged Pricoli snarled, hissing in your ear. “I know he sent you to hide her,” he sneered. “You helpless, pitiful Seer. For all your preeminence, did you not find a way to best me?” he barked a laugh, maniacal and loud. “You useless Seers and your cursed fates—and for what? A single moment of ruined glory?”

Your breath shallowed, airflow restricted. Agent Blue, several Dullahan, your brother, Dorian, and Lysander all emerged from the tree line, pausing as they saw you being held hostage. You closed your eyes for a moment as the icy hands constricted around your throat even further.

“Tell me where she is, and you get to live, Seer,” he snarled, his face nearing your ear. “She is my perfect match, my BloodSong. She is fated to be mine, my apprentice!” he howled. “Give her to me, my right!” His nails started to lengthen, turning into claws, digging against your skin. “Or I’ll drink you dry first and use you as fuel to take these maggots down.”

You brother’s face had gone ashen in horror, staring at you as though trying to deny his own eyes. His face twisted in despair.

“I’ll never give her up to you,” you answered, aware that everyone could hear you despite the rain. You tilted your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. “I am a Seer,” you declared, loudly, proud of it for the first time in your life. “And I embrace the Curse of my Fate. I pay the price gladly, if it means the power to make sure you never lay a finger on her.”

The Pricoli snarled, the rage almost audibly warping his voice into something demonic. “Then meet your Fate, Seer.”

Your knees gave out the moment his fangs ripped into your jugular. Strangely enough, the pain wasn’t even that bad, you mused hazily. Your eyes—were they blurred by tears or the rain?—rolled up to see your brother, mouth open as he reached for you. Even Lysander, white fur matted and soaked, had his maw open as his snout pointed to the sky.

Distantly, you could hear screaming. A roar, loud, tumbling through your chest, rattling into the ground. The crackling of fire. Everything started to get.. so… cold. Vaguely, as the hand shoved you forward and you landed against the ground, you could see out of the corner of your eye the Pricoli hunch forward. Despite the pain, the numbness… your lips curled in a vindictive smile.

The crimson eyes turned to you, a horrified anger sweeping through them as they landed on your twisted grin. A cold hand went up to his throat, and the Pricoli started to choke. His body lurched, tongue lolling as he gagged on your blood, his veins starting to light from the inside out with a toxic green. Slowly, agonizingly, he fell to his knees, his face contorted in a paroxysm of agony as he choked on your blood, your concentrated inherent magic tearing him apart from the inside out.

Your limbs felt sluggish as you forced yourself up, your ears ringing. Reaching up, you pressed your hand to your ruined neck and staggered to your feet, starting to lurch away from the destroyed corpse of the Pricoli. Warmth smeared across your skin, and every breath sent needles raking down your throat and into your lungs. Your feet stumbled, and before you realized it, you were leaning against something broad and firm.

Two icy blue eyes stared down at you, claws wrapping around your arms. Strangely enough, though, you didn’t fear that grasp. Lysander’s maw moved, you noticed faintly, but all you could hear was the persistent ringing in your ears. Vaguely, you reached up, your fingers clumsily landing on the side of his snout. Red smeared his fur, and your arm dropped down numbly to your side.

With the last of your strength, you forced your mouth to form the words that your shattered throat couldn’t say. Tell her goodbye.

The world spun into crimson.

~

Shivering, you shook your head as you curled into the corner that you’d pressed yourself into. Tears burned behind your eyes, and you heard your breath start to rasp and wheeze, rattling your throat.

Your brother’s face crumpled as he stared at you. “Please,” he begged, his voice wavering. “You need to drink.”

Agent Blue rested his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Take it easy, son,” he said, voice firm but compassionate. “She’s understandably frightened. Even though she’s successfully gone through the change to being a damphyr, she’s had quite the scare and probably doesn’t want to feed.”

“But she needs to!” Ray exclaimed, frustration lacing his voice. “She’s already hurting.”

It was driving you insane. The pure power of the Will-o-the-Wisp’s blood was calling to you like a tempting beacon, and your brother’s hot blood practically screamed at you. The thirst flared in your throat, an ache so powerful you wanted to gag. It was like sandpaper. But you didn’t want to feed from them. You didn’t want to risk losing control, didn’t want to didn’t want to didn’t want to—

“I’ll take care of her.” Lysander stepped into the room. He turned to Ray. “She gave her life to save my daughter. This is the least I can do. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”

Your brother paused, then sighed, shoulders slumping. “I know you will, Sir,” he said, defeated. “I just…” He glanced over at you, eyes reflecting his misery.

Lysander reached out, squeezing Ray’s shoulder. “I understand,” he said quietly.

Ray nodded, then approached you again carefully. “Hey.” His voice softened. “I know you probably don’t want me around. But you have my number. Please, just… contact me when you’re ready, ok? You know I’ll be here for you, like I always have been. I’m gonna go back to Scotland, but you know how to reach me if you need anything. I won’t tell any of the family that you’re here.”

Swallowing back the drool, you tentatively reached out and barely ghosted your fingers against his cheek, hoping your eyes would convey your thanks. You just… needed space. Away from him, to control yourself, get yourself together.

But his expression turned a little more hopeful, and he nodded. “Love you, sis,” he said quietly. “Please… live.” With a small smile, he stood and followed Agent Blue out of the room.

With a quiet whine, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to push past the unbearable, insistent pain scratching down your throat. Your throat roared for a drink. Your eyes snapped open when you heard Lysander approach. Though you didn’t know why, his presence always sent you into an absolute panic, though not of fear. Your thirst around him seemed to impossibly skyrocket. Like something about him drove you crazy.

He knelt, his blue eyes fixed on yours. He reached out slowly, giving you a chance to move away. Instead, your body froze, entirely fixating on the way his plaid shirtsleeve pulled tight around his arm, rolled up to his elbow. You swallowed thickly, his blood an absolute siren call. You could smell it, practically taste it. Dripping down your throat, into your veins, ambrosia sweet and thick— Drool slipped down the corner of your mouth, past the pressure of fangs against your lips.

Lysander’s eyes strained. “I know what it does to you,” he said quietly. “Just the fact that you’re not lunging for me right now is…” He sighed, his other hand raking through his hair. “I don’t know if I’m impressed or-“ His lips twisted as he cut himself off, as though conflicted. “There’s a reason why my blood calls to you.” He settled himself in front of you, making you want to scream as both relief and a frenzy of want roared through you.

“Of course, Mor is my daughter,” Lysander said, his voice low as he looked down at the floor between you. “But her Mother was… not my true Mate.” He sighed. “I didn’t really care, because I loved her. But she… well, she left me. Didn’t want Mor, didn’t want… me.” A self-depreciating smile passed across his face. “But it was okay, I had Mor and I only wanted the best for her. But still… somewhere inside me, I knew that my true Mate was out there somewhere.”

You almost couldn’t focus, his proximity almost painful because he was too far, and yet not close enough—

“And then you appeared, and Mor started to love you, and I—“ He sighed, hand reaching up to cover his face. “And I didn’t know if I wanted to run or stay.” His shoulders slumped. “Seeing you with Mor, working with you, talking with you… every moment I spend with you near is like agony, but when you leave it’s like you take a part of me with you and I can’t breathe.”

Abruptly, your mouth went dry, shocked almost clear out of bloodlust. Wait, was he saying-?

“I told myself that you’d be better off without me,” Lysander admitted, voice thick. “I’m… not young any more. You’re beautiful and— and you have so much more promise, a whole life ahead of you… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. I’d gone for so long without my true Mate, I thought I’d be fine. But when I saw you lying on the ground…” He turned his face away, jaw ticking, a wild, feral light in his eyes. A low snarl rumbled through his chest, dissolving into a whine he quickly cut off.

He looked back up at you. “I’m not telling you this to make you feel… obligated to do anything. But you deserve to know the reason why my blood calls to you so strongly, and why— why I want you to drink from me. Why I don’t mind.”

Your mind whirled. The permission. The heady scent of his blood. The warmth he promised. The realization that he was calling you his true Mate. The way he looked at you, like you were the only thing he’d ever wanted.

Reaching up, you clapped your hand over your mouth with a half-sob of desperation. You wanted it. You practically ached for it, the kindness and love he offered. The promise of a family, a home, someone who had seen you at your worst and still somehow wanted you.

“Please,” Lysander rasped, his eyes laced with that same desperation roiling in his gut. “You don’t even have to accept me as a Mate. But you need to feed, and I—“

You were at your limit. You’d already taxed yourself as a newborn damphyr somehow trying to resist the frenzy of the first feed, and now that your Mate was in front of you, offering freely, practically begging you to feed from him, you could only take so much.

You lunged, a snarl dying on your lips as you lunged forward, the strength of your desperation actually knocking the seasoned werewolf down onto the floor. And still, even as you straddled his waist, your fingers curled around his shoulder, eyes fixed on the tempting expanse of his neck… you still tried to fight. Still tried to fight it, to control yourself.

But Lysander’s broad, warm hands gently wrapped around your waist, not fighting or pushing you off. The scar slashing across the left side of his face seemed to glow in the light streaming through the curtained window, and he gave you a smile.

“It’s okay,” he said, voice low and soothing. “I can handle it. I know you won’t hurt me.”

You shuddered, drool dripping down your fangs. Leaning forward slowly, you tried to keep yourself paced, tried to force yourself to some modicum of control. Mouth opening, you lowered your head until your fangs just barely grazed the crook of his neck and shoulder, not too close to his jugular but just enough.

The moment your fangs sank into his throat, Lysander’s fingers went weak around your waist. A deep groan pooled into the air, and a tremor ran through his body underneath you.

Heat pooled in your stomach, even as his blood slid down your throat with a satisfaction unparalleled. He tasted sweet and dusky, like fresh bread and sunshine, and freshly-cut grass after the rain. The pure heat and warmth he radiated soaked into you, and you felt the bloodlust slowly slake as you drank. Finally, you forced yourself to let go, vaguely aware with your instincts that you’d taken enough to not hurt him but probably still leave him a bit lightheaded for a moment.

The bite wound almost instantly healed over, and his grasp on your waist tightened again, fingers flexing as he regained his bearings.

You leaned your head against his chest, the gratitude and shame warring inside you. Grateful that he’d been so kind, so understanding and gentle. Ashamed of your own arousal, the way your entire being reacted to him.

Your name slipped from his lips, and a moment later his face pressed into your hair. His voice ached with the same torn desire that roiled through you. “I shouldn’t—“ He sucked in a sharp breath as you pressed your body flush against his. You could feel how tight his pants were, could feel the lines of his bulge pressed up against your thigh. A choked groan accompanied the way his hands spasmed around your waist.

“Mate.” The whisper slid from your mouth, the first thing you’d said aloud since your change. Your fingers clenched in his flannel shirt. “Mate… wants me?” Your voice cracked with your fear. Fear that he wouldn’t want to deal with you after all, that you weren’t worth it—

He pulled you closer to him, hand sliding to your hair. “So damn much, sweetheart,” he rasped, cradling your head to his shoulder. “You’re so goddamn beautiful and fierce— I don’t care if you’re human, Seer, damphyr. You’re my true Mate, my love.”

And you buried your face into his shoulder and let yourself shed a few tears of relief. He wanted you. Accepted you, in spite of everything.

“I know it’s not fair to ask you to stay,” his voice strained. “You gave your life for Morrigan, and I’m so much older—“

You reached up, your hands sliding up to cup his jaw as you slanted your lips over his, tears slipping down your cheeks. His mouth opened, kissing you back with a fervor as he splayed his hand over your lower back, pressing you into him. He let out a low growl, the sound rumbling through his chest and straight into your body. Your entire body flushed, and you let out a quiet whimper.

Almost before you could register it, he flipped you over onto the floor, hovering over you. His teeth bared, and he stared down at you with a heat in his eyes that scorched through you. His hands clenched around your waist, pulling your hips flush against his.

You whimpered, tilting your head to the side and exposing your throat to him, sprawled against the floor. Your chest heaved with breath, and a moment later his teeth closed gently on the arch of your neck. A soft breathy moan escaped your lips, eyes fluttering closed as his scent washed over you, his mouth marking your neck, replacing the memory of the Pricoli’s fingerprints mottled against your skin.

With an effort, Lysander wrenched himself away, though he half rutted against you. “Darling, I’m going to need you to tell me if you don’t want this,” he rasped, voice thick and half a snarl already.

“Lysander,” you whispered, lips caressing his name.

His hips stuttered, and he pulled you up against him before heaving himself up and staggering to the bed. He lowered you onto the bed, wasting no time before he practically yanked you to him, his hands hot and greedy. He kissed you, somehow still gentle and yet needy enough to take your breath away.

“May I?” He tapped your shirt.

You nodded shyly, letting him slide it off of you. You lifted your hips in an invitation, and he lowered his mouth to your neck as he slipped your shorts off. He groaned, hands sliding across your bared skin. His skin felt so hot to the touch against your chilled body, wholly satisfying. You practically melted into his hands like putty, malleable to however he touched you, moved you. He made you feel safe. Loved. Cherished. Wanted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, voice hoarse. “So beautiful, leannen.” The Gaelic spilled naturally from his mouth as he slid his hands under your back, unhooking your bra. You let him slide it off, too desperate for the warmth of his hands to process embarrassment. His hands cupped your breasts, callouses rasping across your nipples in a way that left your breathless and aching.

You whimpered, a little encouraged by the way you felt his bulge throb against you at the sound. Fingers tangling in his shirt, you tilted your head for air, arching into his hands.

“Fuck,” Lysander hissed against your jaw, his hips rolling into you. His hands slid lower, and his thumbs hooked in your underwear. “Can I?”

You nodded, fingers clenching against his shoulders as he slid them off. His shirt was already straining at the seams, threatening to rip. At your tug, he took a moment to reach down and practically rip his shirt off, tossing it uncaringly to the side as he opened his mouth against your neck.

You were already dripping, just his touch and scent enough to arouse you. Breath hissed through his teeth as his fingers dragged through your slick, just barely brushing past your clit. A whine escaped your lips as you shivered, fingers slipping against his chest.

“You smell so good,” Lysander groaned, one finger slipping into you as his thumb rubbed circles around your clit. “Fuck, sweetheart, you’re wet. Can I take care of you?” he rumbled, teeth nipping at your ear. “You already gorged yourself on my blood. How about I fill you up with something else?”

You flushed, fangs sinking into your lower lip. “Please?” you whispered.

His ice blue eyes flashed, and his chest heaved under your hands. “Oh, are we a little desperate?” He smirked, sliding another finger into you, stretching you. “Want me to pull your legs up on my shoulders and keep you here all night?” He chuckled, feeling you pulse around his fingers. “Mmmm, I think your gorgeous body is being pretty honest, sweetheart. Well. I aim to please my Mate.”

You only had a moment to wonder when he’d managed to get his pants off. His fingers slid out of you, only for you to feel his cock rest heavily against your entrance. He slid against you, and you could feel a dribble of precum smear across your skin. One hand went to your waist, holding you, while his other found your clit again.

“Is this alright, sweetheart?” he asked, voice low and suddenly soft. “I’m a bit of a stretch. I’ll try to go slow.”

With how wet you were, you sincerely doubted that he would find much of a problem. Still, you swallowed and nodded, grateful for his care and the way he tried, every step of the way, to make sure you were comfortable. Then again, you could already tell he wasn’t lying about how big he was. You could feel him resting against you, throbbing against your thigh. Slowly, he pressed just the tip into you, his breath shuddering.

Your lips parted in a gasp as he stretched you open, sliding into you. Compared to the chill of your body, his cock practically radiated heat. By the time he completely bottomed out, pelvis flush against yours, you’d already come so close to the edge, drool slipping from the corners of your lips. He seemed to completely fill you, pressing up against every spot inside of you until you swore he’d stretched you into his shape.

Lysander slumped over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. His entire body shuddered, and his hands clenched around your waist. His chest heaved against yours, muscles flexing as though he were physically holding himself back.

“Thank you.” The shaky whisper pooled against your skin. “For saving her. Giving your life for her. Thank you. For choosing me.”

Your fingers slid into his salt and pepper hair, relishing the stubble against your neck and shoulder. “I love you.” The confession spilled from your lips, quiet in the room.

He shuddered, letting out a low moan. His fingers clenched, just as he pulled you down further onto his cock, pressing up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped. “Say it again.”

“I love you, Lysander,” you repeated obediently, wholly truthful. Your core clenched around him, and he hissed, pulling out to thrust back into you.

“I love you,” he groaned, starting to thrust in a slow but steady rhythm. He reached down, then pulled your legs up around his hips. The new angle made you pulse as he seemed to reach impossibly deeper into you, angling up justenough to hit that one spot inside you that had you gasping and arching.

“You’re so tight,” he growled, picking up the pace. “Feels so good, sweetheart. So good.”

He suddenly reached behind you and grabbed a pillow, then lifted your hips up to prop it under you. Setting you back down, he shifted himself up and pulled your legs up to his shoulders.

A cry left your lips, utterly wrecked and broken. His cock completely filled you, fucking any semblance of coherence out of you, going so deep you swore you could feel it in your stomach. He seemed to know exactly how to read your body, adjusting to every whimper you let out, not giving you a break as he kept pounding into you with devastating precision.

“You feeling good, sweetheart?” he chuckled, the sound raking down your spine. “Is this what you want?” He thumbed your clit, pressing a kiss to your lips. “You gonna give Mor a little sibling? Taking me so well like this, spread open for me?”

The thought of adding more kids to your life, together with Lysander, proved to be the last straw for your poor mind. You came, stars bursting behind your eyelids as you cried out his name and the wave of heat and pleasure washed through your body.

And Lysander just kept fucking you through it, going harder as he pinned you against the sheets under him, not caring that your fingers raked against his shoulders. He bent to kiss you, murmuring your name in a husky voice that just wrecked you even more. He gave you no mercy, his gaze predatory as he stared down at you, soaking in your ruined expression.

“That’s right, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he murmured, coaxing you through your high.

Even when you rode it out, he didn’t slow down or let up the pace. “You gonna make me cum, darling? Can I cum inside you?”

A plea staggered off of your lips, followed by his name. Your jumbled, blissed-out mind wouldn’t allow you to do anything else, barely recalling your own name.

“Fuck— gonna cum, sweetheart— gonna fill you up—“ He let out a moan before his hips slammed into you one last time. He ground against you as he came, his bruising grip not letting you move an inch away from him.

You melted back into the bed, eyes closing as you soaked in the feeling of his seed filling you, pouring into you. Your fingers slid up the back of his neck as you lay there, docile and welcoming to his every move. Even when he’d finally stopped spilling into you, your stomach full and hot, he slumped against you.

His lips slid across your throat, soft and almost reverent, and he pulled you into his body. He murmured soft endearments into your ear, his hands running over you with gentle, loving strokes, soothing you.

“I promise I’ll do my best to protect you, treat you the way you should be,” he promised. “I love you so much, sweetheart.” Then he chuckled, hand running over your stomach. “I wonder if Morrigan will want a brother or a sister. She’s already going to be so excited to call you Mommy.”

You gave him a shy smile, accepting his soft kiss. “Thank you, Lysander,” you whispered. “I love you.”

Perhaps the price of your Fate had been high, you thought, but it had been entirely worth it.

[fearfully-fiction]

Loftus Hall Pt.2- Dakota Laden x Reader

word count:3180

warnings: fluff, Maybe some misspelled words or bad grammar, I’m sorry about that guys! Language?

Summary: Based on season 3, episode 15 of DF. So, all credit to the crew, the show, and the channel. The trip continues and the location is revealed, and the packet read leaves you the most scared you’ve ever been about an overnight.

Hey guys, I’m so sorry this is late, but look out for another chapter sooner than usual! I love you to the moon and to Saturn!

-M.G.

(not my gif!)

You had finally gotten more into the city, and as you were passing places by Dakota spoke up. “See that door right there?” he asked and you nodded your head. “Yeah,” Tanner answered. “The guy who wrote Dracula, he lived there,” Dakota said. Your eyes lit up, “No way! Bram Stoker?!” you exclaimed excitedly. Dakota chuckled at you and nodded his head. The RV stopped and you all got out to go see the door. You ran up to it excitedly, “Holy crap, the actual creator of one of the most famous monsters of all time lived right here. This is amazing!” you said and pointed your camera at the door to show it. Everyone took a look at the door for a while, and you just couldn’t stop smiling. 

“Tanner, are you seeing this?!” you asked with enthusiasm. “This is so cool,” he said and wrapped an arm around your shoulder in a hug. 

As you walked away from it you fell into step with your boyfriend and gently reached to grab his hand. He held yours gently, not wanting to hurt it even further. He could feel how excited you were and it made his heart melt knowing he had something to do with that excitement and joy. 

You all decided it was a good idea to stop off and get some food and try a beer. You hadn’t been more excited, although you weren’t the biggest fan of beer you couldn’t help it especially seeing as you were in Ireland. To all of your guys’ surprise, you quite enjoyed your drink. You were just completely happy the entire time, and that was something new to you. You always had stress and anxiety, and depression did hang heavy sometimes. So all of them getting to see you like this was amazing. It wasn’t like you were a raincloud all of the time but there were moments of each day where they could see that you were struggling and it hurt them. 

---

“Something tells me that they don’t have RV’s here in Ireland,” Chelsea said and you chuckled, looking out the window at the people giving you strange looks as you passed by. 

“Not a lot,” Dakota said with a smile. “Cause we’re getting a lot of weird looks,” Chelsea spoke again about the people outside. 

You all chuckled at the looks they gave. 

The drive went on and as you turned a slight corner Dakota immediately pointed at the window across from him, “That’s it right there!” he exclaimed. “That’s it?” Tanner asked as he quickly moved forward to see the building better. You looked out the window as well with bright eyes, completely in awe of the structure in front of you. “The Christchurch Cathedral from the 11th century,” Dakota explained. He looked at you as you looked on in wonder at the sight before you. 

You once again got out so you could walk by and look at it more closely. “That’s gotta be the oldest building I’ve ever seen in my life,” Chelsea said. “Yeah, it definitely is. It’s beautiful though, just look at it,” you said and studied it for a few seconds. “Yeah, it is,” Alex agreed with you. You smiled at him and went over to give him a hug, you just stood there for a few seconds longer holding on to one of your best friends at one of the happiest moments in your life. 

Dakota smiled at seeing you so happy, despite how you might be hurt you were absolutely enchanted by the city and it made him love you even more. 

You got into the RV once again and settled down, you had gotten cold and decided to put some sweats on as well as one of Dakota’s sweaters. The window was down and Chelsea was right next to it with a smile on her face, her hair was being whipped around a bit and it made you smile. “Whoo. Ireland!” she exclaimed and you chuckled. 

Your next stop was a park and you were rather excited about it, albeit slightly nervous about taking a tumble again. You got out of the RV and looked ahead of you, and a huge smile formed on your face at the beautiful sight in front of you. 

As you began your walk Dakota made sure that you were holding his hand at all times, not wanting you to fall again. 

“This is the largest park in all of western Europe,” Dakota explained and your eyes lit up once again at the sight of deer so close. 

“Hello deer, “ Dakota said in a funny voice and you had to try hard not to laugh loudly. He looked over at you with a huge smile. 

As you stood with Chelsea Tanner walked closer to the deer, “How close can we get?” he whispered. 

She looked back at you, “he’s one with the deer,” She said and you had to stop yourself from bursting out laughing again. 

You, Chels, and Alex stood together watching Dakota walk up to the deer. 

“Hey guys, guess what we’re doing? We’re going to some of the most haunted places in your country,” he said and you giggled. (ok, but is Dakota not just fucking adorable as all hell?)

“One of them just rolled their eyes. I’m not even kidding,” he said and you giggled even more. He looked over at you laughing and smiled at the sound and sight of you and his sister having fun together, he loved how close you were with his family and he could tell that you felt like they were your family as well. So sights like those made his heart melt, knowing that one day he would make it official and you would be part of his family and you would get to start one of your own. 

You all decided it was time to go and so you all walked back to the RV. Dakota was holding your hand the entire time making sure that you didn’t trip, you tried to seem unphased by it but he could tell you were nervous about it.

“That was peaceful!” Chelsea exclaimed happily. “I guarantee you that’s about as peaceful as this road trip’s gonna get,” Dakota promised ad you sighed heavily. “Yay, I’m so excited to have no peace,” you stated dryly. Everyone laughed at your dry sense of humor. 

“You’re always bringing us to these nice places just to crush us down,” Chelsea stated. “That’s very true Kota,” you agreed with Chelsea. He just lifted your hand and placed a kiss on it, “Well, we have to have the calm before the storm don’t we?” he asked and quirked his eyebrow. You shook your head and rolled your eyes. 

You got back to the RV and you were shivering a bit from how cold you were, Dakota noticed and sat next to you. He pulled you close to him, you looked up at him and smiled, he smiled back and leaned forward to kiss you. His warm hand was on your cheek and his other arm was tucked tightly around you. You broke away and leaned forward once again to kiss his cheek. “I love you, Dakota,” you said and he smiled. “I love you too babe,” he reciprocated. 

The day turned to night and so you found your spot to do a packet read. You sighed heavily trying to figure out how to sit get there and sit down without falling again. Your knee was still sore and bruised, it had bled a tiny bit through the bandage and so it was a bit uncomfortable and nerve-racking to walk through there. 

Tanner noticed your hesitance and offered his hand to you, you gratefully took his hand and let him help you up and find a spot that was comfortable for you. 

You sat right next to your boyfriend with cold shaky hands and your stomach in knots. 

He looked over at you and kissed your cheek. It was a harder setting than a bench but he managed to keep you closer to him to keep the cold away as best as he could. 

“You ok sweetheart?” he asked quietly. You nodded your head slowly, “Yeah just a bit nervous that’s all,” you said and played with his fingers that were hanging over your shoulder. 

“Ok, well, you guys, I brought us all the way to Ireland, and this will be the biggest challenge we’ve ever faced to date,” Your boyfriend explained. You sat there in silence trying to process what was going on, you weren’t sure why the cold was affecting you so much it had never been like this before. It was making your brain pretty foggy, and your mind swirl with irrational and worrisome thoughts. 

“Chelsea, there you go,” he handed his sister the black packet he held. You took a deep breath and rested your head on Dakota’s shoulder. He squeezed you tighter for a second before loosening his grip the slightest. 

As Chelsea ripped it open and brought it out you could just feel something off about it. It didn’t feel right, it felt bad and it made you nervous. 

“Loftus Hall?” she and Tanner questioned in confusion. 

You looked at Dakota in confusion. “What?” you questioned. 

“Rising ominously above the lush fields of the Hook Head peninsula can be found the barren remains of the once extravagant manor, Loftus Hall,” she said. You could just picture it in your head, and it made your stomach turn as you interlaced your fingers with Dakota’s. 

“But do not let its stunning facade fool you. This home and its current residents are anything but welcoming.” you shivered a bit at her words, Dakota noticed and nuzzled his nose gently against your cheek in a sweet gesture of affection. 

It caused your cheeks to heat up a bit and you to let go of a fraction of the tension in your body. 

“Loftus Hall is known as one of the most haunted homes in the entire world,” She said. She looked at her brother like he was crazy, “What?” she questioned. “In the world?” she followed up quickly. “Yeah,” Dakota confirmed. 

“I have always wanted to go to a haunted mansion but not the world’s most haunted mansion,” Alex stated. “Yeah, really, I hate this place already,” you sighed. 

“Standing for over 860 years, it has borne witness to numerous battles, tragedies, legends and deaths throughout the centuries,” She explained more about it. “First constructed as Redmond Hall in 1350 it was occupied by the descendants of Norman Knight Raymond le Gros.” Chelsea finished and handed it over to Tanner. 

“The estate changed hands several times, converting into a convent, and even a hotel, but though the type of institution varied tragedy was in constant play to those who live there. The current owner recently sold the property.” You shifted nervously trying to calm your own nerves. 

“But while the hall has been filled with numerous notable residents. The story of Anne Tottenham and a mysterious visitor is so terrifying and tragic that it has morphed into legend.” you glanced over at your boyfriend with fearful eyes. You tried to shake the feeling of dread that was beginning to come over you as Tanner read further on. 

“One violently stormy night in 1775. Anne, her father Charles, and stepmother Jane heard a  loud knock at the front door. A servant who answered the door found a handsome young man who had gotten lost and was seeking shelter.” he said, “Never trust the handsome ones I swear,” you mumbled but they heard you and let out chuckles. “Except these three,” you said and pointed at the boys. Dakota kissed your head and held you a bit tighter. He knew you made jokes when you thought others felt uncomfortable or unsettled despite you feeling the same way. You dealt differently, you would hold it all in and you never let it out until suddenly everything became too much for you. 

“As the foursome were playing a game, Anne bent down to retrieve a card that had flown out of her hand. When she looked underneath the table she saw that the man hadn’t had feet but instead cloven hooves.” Tanner explained. Your eyes went wide and your stomach dropped to your feet. You sat there in terror at what you were hearing. 

“That just straight up sounds like the devil,” Tanner said. You bit back tears and tried to breathe as steadily as you could so you’d be able to finish the read with no problems. “The freaking devil?” Alex asked in pure fear and bafflement. “Yeah,” Dakota said. “That’s like, really bizarre,” Tanner said. You kept quiet, and it didn’t go unnoticed but they decided not to push it right then. 

As they kept reading your mind was becoming fuzzy, you were just thinking over and over about what happened after they found out about him. He burst into a sulphuric ball of flames and exited through the roof and the hole is still there, and as a result, Anne went mad, she went crazy. You were absolutely terrified. 

“You’ll be ok sweetheart I promise you,” Dakota whispered to you and kissed your head. You nodded sluggishly. 

“Her family had no choice but to confine her and locked her away in the tapestry room,” Chelsea said. You shook your head. “The tapestry room? That just sounds creepy” Chelsea said. “It does,” Dakota agreed with her. 

Apparently, she had been held in her room for 11 years. She scraped and clawed at the walls. Your heart was just twisting, she even tried comforting herself, and when she had died they weren’t able to straighten out her body. All of her bones had fused into a fetal position. You could practically feel it, you could feel yourself curling in on your own body and ending up dying that way. 

“That’s like, some twisted fairytale you hear about,” Tanner explained how he saw it. “So freaky,” Dakota said. 

“But she was not the only one locked in that room,” Tanner said. You cringed immediately having a horrible feeling that you knew where this was going. 

You were right, it was said that she had a baby with this dark stranger. She had fallen in love with him. They found out while doing renovations of the house that something horrific had occurred to this baby. They found remains behind the fireplace, remains of a baby, mummified. 

At this point, you had gone completely dead silent. No shaky breaths or comments, no reactions. It was all in your mind, your fear had clouded every sense and you had no idea what to do anymore. “Wait a second, seriously?” Tanner questioned. Chelsea looked in shock and disgusted. “And that part’s not legend. That part’s true. The baby was found behind the fireplace.” Dakota explained the truth. They turned to look at you and saw you as white as a sheet, expressionless. They could tell you were in some kind of shock and they were worried. 

“(y/n)?” Chelsea asked. “You stayed the same, you could hear her but it’s like you had forgotten how to respond. Nothing had affected you this badly and you were scared. The story was horrific, and it was possibly the worst you’d ever heard. You were truly scared. 

When she didn’t get an answer Dakota began to shift positions which meant letting you go for a bit. When he moved you immediately reached out for him. “Dakota, don’t leave,” your voice shook. Their eyes went wide at your plea, and the grip you had on your boyfriend tightened. “Babe, I’m not going anywhere ok, I was just adjusting myself ok. I’m not leaving you. What’s wrong?” he asked and gently placed a hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch and closed your eyes. “Just a bit spooked, I’m sorry guys go ahead and continue,” you said and tried to blow it off. You knew that no matter what you did now, you wouldn’t be able to avoid his questions later that night. 

They all looked at you uncertainly before deciding it was best to continue and get it done quickly for you. 

“The most active areas include:” Tanner passed the packet to Chelsea. “The back staircase, the only way to access the third floor this area is incredibly dark.” Chelsea stated. 

You had unintentionally blocked out parts of what was going on, you heard about the nun falling to her death on the back staircase, she could have been pushed. There is said to be a cross etched there out of respect, and that’s where you may see her. 

“What? Tanner questioned. “I did not sign up for this,” Chelsea said. 

Dakota turned to check up on you as Tanner carried on reading. You sat there quietly with your hands resting in your lap fiddling with the ring he had given you for your birthday. It always helped your anxiety decrease the slightest bit. 

“The second floor on the left side of the main staircase people report a presence that physically tries to push them back.” He read. 

“What?” Chelsea questioned in disbelief and fear. “Are you joking?” Tanner asked. 

“It’s gonna be a wild night,” Dakota said. You were beginning to get exhausted from all of this information flying at you. How brutal and horrifying it all was, instinctively you rested your head on your boyfriend’s shoulder. He looked down at you and kissed your head lovingly before being handed the packet.

“The third floor,” he began. “Home to the former servant’s quarters, vicious, aggressive, EVP’s have been caught on digital recorder.” He said. You saw the look of weariness on Chelsea’s face and internally felt the same way she did. 

“Many people flat out refuse to enter this area by themselves.” Dakota read. You got chills, Chelsea noticed your discomfort and reached out to grab your hand. You held your best friend’s hand as you tried to keep yourself grounded. 

The packet was handed over to Tanner and so once Dakota let go of it he wrapped his arm around you keeping you as close as he could. 

“The tapestry room,” Tanner started. 

Your eyes widened considerably at the notion of it being one of the most haunted rooms in the world. And the effects it has on people emotionally and mentally. You already had problems like that and so you were beginning to feel a bit sick at the thought of being there. 

“Many people have been unable to stay inside for an entire night,” Tanner explained. “Great,” Chelsea said in disappointment. “That’s what we’re supposed to do,” Tanner spoke out. 

“There’s something there, something evil. It’s ready to play, I can already feel it,” you spoke out softly. Everyone looked at you with fear in their eyes. But they pushed through that. 

“This is a big opportunity for us,” Dakota said. “This is next level,” Chelsea stated. “And it only gets worse from here,” Dakota promises. 

---

Taglist: 

@jaziona92

@beautybyfire

@thefandomthings

@kippykasey

@kristin813

@katelynanna​

@nyx2021​

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Let Chaos Reign

Chapter 3- Don’t Provoke The Bear

Summary: After getting your shit rocked by the Avengers, you now wake up in a strange new place even more pissed off then you already were. Also that one pretty looking dark haired guy won’t leave you alone.

Warning: reader being chaotic, Bucky trying his best

Masterlist - Chapter 2

Eyes still closed you can feel a soft pressure holding you up, slowly parting your eyelids, you’re soon greeted by the sight of bright lights circling you overhead, though they remain unmoving. On further inspection, once you force yourself into a seated position, you take notice that you’re in some kind of flat spherical glass holding cell.

Blinking groggily, you look down to find your clothes are all still on your body, suddenly a pang of fear hits you at the thought of your mothers necklace. Reaching for it, you’re relieved to feel it’s still with you. Thanking whoever will listen for that bit of good fortune in this otherwise adverse predicament.

Shifting your gaze back to the current situation of the room, you’re able to see around to some sort of large cavernous lab area with a multitude of that armored man from earlier, though you can tell there is no vital life that stirs within them. Guards maybe? Decoys? You have no idea.

Suddenly your eyes catch movement from the left door, a dark skinned man in black clothing and a single patch over his left eye appears. “Good morning. I’m Director Fury.” He smiles with a friendly nod, arms clasped behind his back while he walks over to you, “Or should I say afternoon?”

Getting off the elevated bed, you wander towards the thick glass keeping you from him, “Where am I?”

Fury nods, “Better question you should be asking is how long you’ve been out for, cause damn, you can sleep.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

He chuckles knowingly, “I almost couldn’t believe it myself when the team told me. But wow, holding back both Vision and Wanda for as long as you did. I’m thoroughly impressed.” He boasts for you, genuinely fascinated by your daring feat.

Right, those two.

You frown, gaze hard set and intimidating, “Where the fuck am I?”

“Well for one, you’ve been out for a whole 15 hours since they found you unconscious but alive after getting blasted by Vision and Wanda. Weren’t sure if you were gonna make it, seems the universe has yet to take you out.”

Pursing your lips together in irritation, you glare through the glass at him, “Well I’m not exactly from here so....doesn’t matter. Tell me what this place is and where the fuck I am!”

He holds up his hands, “Alright no need to get heated.” Before clasping them behind his back as he begins pacing slowly back and forth in front of you, “You’ve created quit the stir since arriving in Ireland. My intelligence first received a message indicating a storm greater then a category four hurricane, which by our standards is pretty damn massive. Soon a fun little video of you throwing some busses around like rag dolls peaked my interest. And give or take a couple days, here you are.”

Giving him a deadpanned stare, you cross your arms, “The mystery of the century. Where am I?”

“Alright fine I won’t leave you in suspense, you’re in New York State. In a very secure and safe facility home to the Avengers. Nice place huh?” He smiles, dark eyes looking elsewhere as he gives a little once over of the room.

“I’m in a cell.”

“Yes. But it’s a clean cell.”

Suddenly you slam your left fist against the thick glass causing him to flinch, “You have no right to hold me here! Release me. Now.” You growl darkly, golden irises appearing to almost glow with your building vexation.

“Can’t do that.”

“Alright then, if that’s how it’s going to be. Then I’ll do it myself.”

A second later he’s genuinely startled as you cock your arm back before slamming it into the clear thick glass. With the power of bending the material and your people’s strength, the glass cracks into a fist sized area. Satisfied with this, you do it again and again before a voice startles you.

[Miss, please refrain from breaking that. Mr. Stark has requested that you stop immediately.]

“Agreed.” Says Fury as he hustles over to the far wall, bringing his arm up to his mouth, he speaks but you can’t tell what he’s saying. What nonsense is he even doing?

Ignoring both of them, you punch the glass a fourth time before the voice interrupts again. [Miss. Please suspend your advances. Mr. Stark is on his way.]

Halting your fist from punching a fifth time, you take a step back and bring yourself to the center. Positioning yourself in a fighters stance, legs slightly bent, arms held about 90 degrees; you thrust them forward causing the metal contraption to creak and whine in protest.

Holding your arms close to your body now, you make two tight fists before violently punching at the air; the metal holding in the glass slams forcefully against the far wall. Destroying a couple of those stoic armored sentinels in the process.

“What the fuck?!” Yelps Fury in surprise as he falls to the floor from the force of the impact, “Hey! You better stay right the fuck over there!” He warns while cowering in the corner, nothing to really threaten you with but his voice. That is until he pulls out a stunted black gun, like the ones you have seen on the Norwegian police. You ignore his threats anyways.

Taking your first steps out of the desolated cell feels almost euphoric, your body embraces how strong and dangerous you feel among this place and what has presented itself to you within her walls. A man and his words, a disembodied voice telling you to stop fighting your way to freedom. Ridiculous, they have no idea who you are.

You take a single step left when the man, Fury, shouts loudly, “Stay right there!” Your eyes find the gun held tightly within his grasp, “I will shoot!”

You don’t care for this shallow warning, there are things in this universe more important then a mortal mans fearful intimidation. Opening up your palm, the gun flies out of his hands while he gasps with a start, eyes wide and panicked as you turn the short nosed barrel towards him. Closing your fist, the gun combusts to nothing more then destroyed metal and hard plastic as it clatters to the floor.

He watches in disbelief as you then turn to your left before taking the first door that reads exit above it; you wander past a long hallway until you come across a door leading to a long flight of stairs to some floor with a sign reading - Parking Area - the door is obviously closed.

This is too easy, you think suspiciously, somethings not right.

Opening up the door, you’re greeted by a large cavernous glass and metal room holding a large black aircraft on the far end, a couple more vehicles parked in various areas spread about the place. And not a soul in sight.

Hustling along into the room, you’re able to reach the door on the other side, opening it, you cautiously stick your head out. Ahead of you is a large green yard stretching all the way back to a tree line with trees placed neatly along a road leading up to the facilities main entrance area.

To your far left is a large river, but still, you have no idea where New York is. This is all unfamiliar territory to you, so finding the Ancient One is going to be a tough fucking job.

Not seeing anyone, you take your first couple steps into the open. Soon you’ve made it halfway across the grass headed for the tree line before the sound of gravel crunching causes you to pause and turn around to face the intruder.

So close. The woods are right there.

Clenching your fists, you keep a defensive stance as you stare him down, this man is undoubtedly familiar. He’s dressed in boots, jeans, a pair of cloves for some reason, and a faded grey t-shirt that’s mostly covered by his forest green jacket, while his long dark hair is washed and sits handsomely around his face. Blue eyes staring at you apprehensively, “We’re not here to harm you.” Cautiously says the man in a soft tone of voice, hoping not to provoke you again.

“Then why was I just locked in a cell?”

He pauses for a moment, “Uh, okay, yeah that looks bad.”

“Precisely.

You turn to leave, yet his voice makes you stay, “You don’t have to be on your own you know. I don’t know what you’re looking for, or who....but doing it alone will only take longer. We could help you, if you want.” He suggests with the tiniest hint of a smile. You don’t trust him.

You look towards the lake before finding his gaze yet again, your golden eyes admittedly sadder as you softly answer him, “No one can help me.”

He takes a step forward, face softening, “I felt the same way once. Alone and confused, not sure where to go, no one to trust. Believe me, it sucked......so, I’m just hoping you’ll listen. That’s it.”

“Well, I don’t particularly like any of you. And so far you’ve all gotten in my way and fought me....I have no reason to trust a thing you say.”

He purses his lips together and nods, you’ve got him there, but nonetheless he takes another step forward, “Sorry about that.” He mutters while rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, let me try and start over....I’m Bucky. And I am definitely not here to fight you. Promise.”

Eyeing him up suspiciously, you take a step back, “Y/N Lavpranthus..of Vanaheim.” You finally reveal, albeit with a smidge of apprehension, however you are not one to hold back your own name if someone is to speak freely theirs.

Bucky nods, incredibly grateful for your calm demeanor for the moment and this first bout of information given willingly by you, though he has not a single clue where Vanaheim is, this is progress. Good progress; perhaps the team was right to send him out first as their guinea pig against the big bad wolf.

Stupid in retrospect, but so far it’s appeared an effective strategy instead of Tony’s idea which was to have Vision and Wanda knock you out again. Not an efficient way to make friends who can throw busses around like its nothing but a bag of grapes...and all without even touching them.

Bucky reveals the flash of a smile as you slowly calm your once defensive stance, though you’re still wary of his true intentions, “Y/N.” Repeats Bucky with a genuine grin as he tests out your name on his tongue, “Never heard that one before, it’s beautiful.

Taken aback by his kindness and sincere compliment to your name, you finally let your guard down, “My mother gave that to me, it was her sisters name, though she died before I met her. Guess it doesn’t matter now...” He frowns as you share a dismal look with the ground, remembering the events that brought you here in the first place. 

Family.

Soon your anger rises once more as you think of your brother, that conniving piece of shit, “Bucky....I-I can’t stay here. I have to go, you wouldn’t understand. And I don’t want you to be involved....fuck....he probably already has scouts hunting for me.”

Bucky’s brows furrow in confusion, who would you be talking about he has no idea, “Y/N, no one could hurt you here, alright. This place is pretty damn guarded. I mean, we are the Avengers.”

Shaking your head you take a step backwards, “No, none of you understand how dangerous he is, I’m lucky he didn’t kill me when he had the chance.”

“Who tried to kill you?”

Finding his worried gaze once more, you back closer towards the woods, a knowingly loathsome look crossing your features as you frown, “My brother.” And with that do you make a swift exit into the trees, out of sight in an instant.

Bucky takes a hasty step forward before looking back at the base where all of the Avengers are watching from the windows, they collectively make a go-get-her motion with their hands, indicating that Y/N is now his problem.

Fantastic, he thinks sarcastically, half the team can fly and I’m going after a demigod with family problems.

——

Jumping over fallen trees and ragged roots alike, you’re swifter then a young leopard under the treetops, it’s admittedly incredibly freeing that you almost get lost in the rush of it all as your boots pound against the leafy ground.

Arms pumping you quickly along while you run deeper into the woods, you can’t remember the last time you’ve felt so free, though your fun soon comes to an abrupt halt when something hard latches onto both of your legs, instantly you begin falling towards the quickly approaching earth.

With lightening reflexes, your hands are thrusted outwards while you emit a blast of air that saves you from suffering brain damage or a bruised face. The wind aids your body in stabilizing itself once again; now standing with your lower legs tied collectively by some metal clasp, you quickly clap your hands together before focusing your release.

The metal clamps rip apart from off of your legs, freeing you in an instant, “What the fuck was that about?” You mutter to yourself when what would you know it, there’s Bucky standing not even twenty feet from you, an apologetic look on his annoyingly handsome face.

He raises his gloved hands into the air, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how else to stop you...”

Shaking your head in disappointment, you take a step in his direction, “Bucky, you’re going to really wish you didn’t just do that.”

“Uh.” Is all he’s able to mutter before you send him flying backwards with the force of a small windstorm, you watch in amusement as he breaks some branches on his way to the ground.

“You really don’t like following orders now do you?” He hears you chuckle, “I like that. You’ve got a brave heart I’ll admit.” He watches as you walk into view, a knowing smirk adorning your beautiful otherworldly features, “Courage, it’s good. Even after what I did to you a couple days ago, you still came to speak with me when no one else dared, it’s valiant. You would be a noble warrior in my homeland.”

Bucky could have blushed if not for the stick poking uncomfortably into his back, “Thanks....you seem like...uh....an experienced...woman.” Mutters Bucky, mentally cringing at how unbelievably stupid that just sounded in comparison with how gloriously divine you are.

You snort, “Easy on the eyes and a skilled fighter. Guess conversation is too adept for even the likes of you.”

Bucky shows you a cheeky grin as he jumps to his feet, “Well....uh...you don’t really know me that well yet.”

You laugh at his weak flirting skills, “Too bad I’ve got elsewhere to be. I bet you’re fine company.”

“Right...right, yeah...” Mumbles Bucky with a nod, not really confident he’s gonna be able to sway you completely to his side, he just needs you to come back with him to the base. That’s it, well, in a calmly manner. “Uh...do you even know where you are?”

You open your mouth to speak but pause as you actually have not a single clue where you really are, brows furrowed you answer, “Upstate New York.” Your accent dripping strong with a tinge of uncertainty that greatly annoys you.

Bucky smiles, “Do you know where that is?”

“Well.....not completely but I’m willing to find out, elsewhere. I don’t need help, believe me.”

Bucky throws his hands up, “I believe you. It’s just....I don’t think you’re gonna find your brother without a little guidance here...”

“Don’t patronize me!” You snap angrily, eyes practically glowing gold as you fill with irritation; he’s trying to distract you from your goal, you don’t need any help from anyone. Your brother would never dare ask for such a thing if he was in your place, he probably would have killed this man in the facility yard without a second thought. “You’re all just prying little bastards, I have no business with any of you when my personal quandary is concerned!”

Clearly noticing he’s struck some kind of nerve, and remembering he’s been tasked with gathering as much information about you as possible while striving for the end goal of a truce. Bucky stupidly pressures you further, “Your brother can’t be that terrible, I mean.....what did he do?” Asks Bucky with a casual shrug, a sudden pang of fear flashing through his eyes as you send him a nasty glare.

You don’t even give him a moment to react before his forest green jacket is ablaze from your quick thrust of flame out of your fist, Bucky instantly yelps in surprise before swiftly throwing the burning fabric off of him before he catches fire himself. The jacket falls to a flaming heap on the forest floor, “What the hell?!” Yells Bucky, eyes wide at your incredibly abrupt act of hostility.

Whoosh!

And Bucky’s flat on his back with you right on top of him, kneeling down to meet his startled gaze, his breath hitches as you forcefully grab his stubbled jaw. Your eyes two golden coins of tempered rage, “You have no idea what he has done to me or my realm, you’re lucky I’m not like him or you’d be a burnt corpse adding to the ash of the universe. Pray you never meet him.” Your lip quivers in angered emotion as you lightly squeeze his jaw, “And if we meet again, I assure you someone will die.”

Bucky keeps still as stone as you finally release him from your admittedly powerful grasp, soon you rise to your full height, giving him one last conflicted look before sauntering off into the bushes.

He lets out a breath he didn’t know he had, chest rising heavily as the adrenaline rush of the fire and you touching him brings him back to reality. He’s on the ground in the woods and you’re absolutely no where to be seen. Soon he jumps to his feet and jogs in your direction until he reaches a gravel road leading back to the Avengers Facility.

You’re gone, just like a phantom in the shadows, gone.

Shaking his head in frustration, Bucky treks back to the base where Steve, Tony, and Natasha are waiting for him outside, all equally curious as to what the hell happened.

“Looks like you were unsuccessful, Barnes.” Quips Tony as Bucky throws him a dirty look.

“She’s...just.....complicated.” Mutters the tired Winter Soldier with a frown as they follow him to the front doors.

——

Bucky slouches comfortably into the back of the lounging rooms giant plush couch, a heating pad seated blissfully against his bruised back from all the times you knocked his ass to the ground today. Sam, Tony, Steve, and Natasha seated in various areas around the lounging room as they give him a break to rest.

Though the peace is soon broken by the sound of Tony’s irritating voice, “You at least get a name to hold against that psycho?”

Bucky throws him an annoyed glance, “She’s not a psycho, and her name is Y/N....I can’t remember her last name. It was something Middle Earth-like I don’t know.”

“Y/N?” Repeats Steve, “That’s different.”

Bucky’s face shifts to concentrated puzzlement, “Yeah, I know....it’s just, she said Y/N of Vanaheim or whatever that means....not sure but she’s definitely not from around here.”

“Really? What drew you to that final conclusion.” Jokes Sam as Bucky mutters an incomprehensible fuck off while the Falcon chuckles.

Natasha’s voice suddenly enters the conversation, “So she’s after her brother?”

Bucky nods, “Yep.”

“And doesn’t appear to know her way around this world either?”

“Yep.”

Natasha hums in thought as Sam speaks, “Damn. I wonder what happened to her before she got dumped into our world...”

Bucky suddenly sits up, “It’s just....she said some people are probably already after her, uh....her brothers guardsman I think?”

Steve takes a step forward, eye brows raised in interest, “Guardsmen?”

Tony nods, “Or are these some type of glorified assassins? I’m just putting this out there, but we really need to get this shit under control before she ends up destroying a building next. Or these, whoever is after her, decide to...oh I don’t know...kill some civilians while they’re at it.”

Bucky’s face shifts to puzzlement, “Dammit. It’s kinda my fault she ran off.” They all give him a varying amount of intrigued expressions as he sighs, “I was just trying to get more info out of her and then I talked about her brother and she set my jacket on fire, before throwing me to the ground and roughly grabbing my face to threaten me, she was really mad too.”

Sam smirks, “Did you enjoy it. Getting manhandled by a pretty lady in the woods?”

“Sam.” Mutters Steve like a disappointed father reprimanding his son.

“Come on Buck, it’s okay, you can tell us. Was it nice?”

Bucky throws him a deadly glare, “Actually it was, I felt very loved and comforted.” He quips, voice dripping in sarcasm before a more thoughtful expression crosses his features, “But she didn’t actually hurt me. I don’t know, she almost looked conflicted to leave....I don’t know it happened so fast.” He mumbles, closing his eyes as he falls back into the comfort of the couch.

“Well as much as I’m enjoying this time together with all of you...” Says Natasha, “We now have a person from an unknown world on the loose with incredible power and the means to use it as she wants. We all know where that can lead us.”

“With more collateral damage then what Ultron gave us.” Adds Tony, “Fortunately this time it won’t be my fault...like that makes a big difference I know. Still, she’s the Avengers newest problem now and we don’t have a damn clue where Miss. Anger Management is.”

“Uh, not exactly.” Starts Bucky as they all turn to look at him. Sam raises an intrigued brow, “What do you mean, not exactly?”

“I, well uh-when she was threatening me, well one of the times she was threatening me...I was able to plant a tracker on the inside of her one pocket. Then she pushed me into the grass and ran off into the woods, I couldn’t keep up even if I tried. She was just gone, but at least I was able to do that. It’s something.”

“Barnes.” Says Tony slowly, “And you’re just telling us this now? When we could have been sending some intelligence or agents or even ourselves out to find her.”

“Sorry but I was recovering from getting beaten up by a beautiful demigod to remember so soon,” Sasses Bucky, “but yeah, that aside, she’s got a tracker on her so all I’d need to do is pull it up on my phone and I’m good to go. Well, as long as she hasn’t found it yet.” 

“If it’s just like that, you’re sharing with the rest of the class.” Says Tony while he wanders over to the television mounted upon the wall, “I’m gonna have you link with the tv, I don’t wanna miss a second.”

With a dramatic sigh does the Winter Soldier lean over to grab the thin metal device from off of the coffee table in front of him while Tony flicks on the large tv screen. Once all is set correctly and synched up, the others watch on in curiosity as he scrolls around a bit before finding the app and clicking on it, a couple passwords are sent in and accepted when the screen then shows one option labeled -Unite_1P - between two white bars within a sea of black.

He taps the label and the screen changes to a view of North America resembling that of google maps, but the screen soon shifts to zoom in on a moving pin point in red that’s traveling a couple miles far northeast of the Bronx, where it appears that Y/N happens to be trekking through some forest heading downwards towards that designated part of New York City.

Steve’s eyes trail over the red pin point, “So that’s where Y/N is going?”

“Seems like it. And she hasn’t a damn clue where she’s actually going either.”

Sam keeps his gaze locked onto the map as well, “And what does she want exactly?”

 “She said something about finding her brother but that’s honestly it, I tried to help her but it was almost pointless. She’s on her own mission now, and no ones going to get in her way.”

Steve sighs, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

“What?”

“Y/N. Someone getting in her way, someone just trying to lend a hand and she takes it the wrong way and then...”

“I know man, but I don’t think she’d do that to some innocent person. At least I don’t think she would.” Worries Bucky while everyone takes a moment to process and stare at the screen, red pin point still moving slowly towards New York City. The creak of wood is suddenly heard and all five Avengers turn their heads towards the abrupt noise of Director Fury who’s found himself a spot to stand in the large room.

“Unfortunately we don’t know that. And as the worlds mightiest heroes. It’s your collective duty to always assume the worst. She’s strong, has a goal, and appears able to get it if she tries hard enough. It’s admirable, and yes she’s no Loki...but she is a danger to Earth the less we know about her true intentions and the longer she’s out of our reach.” Explains Fury, “Barnes you’ve done incredibly well. But our apparent need for you has increased as well, so I suggest you smack on a band-aid because we’re going to have a nice civil conversation with her whether she wants it or not.”

“Me?”

“Yes you. You’re the only person she hasn’t tried to send a chunk of metal at, you got close, you got the information. We need you to do it again.”

Steve looks to Fury, “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. What if she...”

“I’ll do it.....” They all give Bucky a collective array of questionable facial expressions as he shrugs, “What? I think she’ll listen, maybe, okay I’m not one hundred percent sure if Y/N will hear me out. But I gotta try right? She’s conflicted inside, she’s hurt and alone....if I just have a moment, another moment, I think I could get to her. I think she’ll listen.”

Fury smiles as Steve lowers his gaze, “That’s what I like to hear Mr. Barnes. And don’t none of you worry alright. We’ll be close, at a safer distance of course, but close in case anything goes south. Now the day is still young and we have a demigod to find, I assume you all know what to do.”

Steve looks to the array of assembled heroes, “Suite up..well actually...just Bucky.”

The designated man of the hour rolls his eyes, “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.”

-

Tagged: @buckylokisimp @diegos-butt @minigranger @bibliophilewednesday @holyhumorliteraturelight @lilacs-lavender  @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bizarrebibitch @starkssnarks @vikingqueen28 @jmstz @thehornytitties @staygoldsquatchling02 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @mischiefmanaged71​ @noragracebrewer   @atomicpersonacheesecake  @thescarlettvvitch @shawnartmendes​

[kassies-take]

If You activated the Werewolf curse after saving Lena Luthor from an assassination attempt

A/n: A TVD and Supergirl crossover. This can be read as its own but for a greater understanding of the situation: Saving Kara

You: Hey Jess *looks at phone, walks past Jess's desk, doubles back*

Jess: *unconscious on the floor*

You: *rushes to Jess, checks pulse, sighs in relief* Mom! *rushes into Lena's office and pulls out collapsible knife*

Office: *trashed*

Lena: *chained to her chair*

You: *throws knife past assassin's head*

Assassin: *chuckles* oh ho. you must be the daughter. I suggest no sudden movements, while we are waiting for the whole *mocks* I need the access codes from Lena Luthor, can I make you a drink *pours whiskey into a cup*

Lena: (Y/n) it's okay I can handle it

Assassin: You should really listen to your mother.

You: you think she's going to give you the access codes chained to a chair.

Assassin: *sips* yeah. She's the monster here after all.

You: she's not a monster

Assassin: agree to disagree *throws glass at you*

You: *rolls out of the way, pulls belt out from loops, and extends to make a sword.*

Assassin: *pulls the knife from the wall* can I ask you a question. Are you trying to fit in someone else's shoe because something is missing here *swings knife around* oh I got it, there isn't any blood

You and Assassin: *fights*

Assassin: *gains the upper hand*

Lena: *breaks the chains*

You and Assassin: *gets distracted*

You: *power side kicks*

Assassin: *groans and clutched stomach*

You: *leg swipes*

Assassin: *falls on his neck and it snaps*

Lena: *stares at the dead body*

You: *runs to Lena* are you okay? How, how did you get out of that? *checks her body* are you okay? Mom? *creases eyebrows together, chokes, and groans*

Lena: (Y/n)

You: *kneels in pain* what is happening to me *groans, pants, and eyes turn gold*

Lena: *kneels and hugs you* it's going to be okay baby. Everything is going to be okay, I promise. *signals for Kara*

~~~~~

-Tower-

Superfriends: *sits around*

Kara: *wraps her arms around you*

You: *poker face*

Lena: (Y/n), triggered the werewolf curse

Jamie: the what curse?

Lena: *sighs, looks at J'onn and Brainy*

J'onn and Brainy: *nods*

Lena: the werewolf curse runs in our blood. It is triggered by taking the life of a human, intentionally or accidentally. Every full moon we involuntary and unwillingly transform into hostile wolves.

Lucas: we've seen you on full moons

Lena: I wear a moonlight ring, as long as I wear the ring I can control my transformations.

Liam: did you know? *looks at Kara*

Kara: when we considered having kids, Lena was reluctant. She told me then, we were always very careful so you guys wouldn't trigger it. Then Lucas killed one of the Cadmus agents 5 years ago and it didn't trigger it.

Lena: Because I had the ring and there was no way for you guys to trigger it, we kept it from you... I was scared.

Brainy: Kara's Kryptonian genetics is blocking the werewolf gene.

You: *quietly* That's why you didn't want us to get rid of our powers for Jeju

Liam & Lucas: and why you didn't want us to use our powers

Supercorp: *nods*

Lena: anger is a strong emotion among our kind.

Lucas: I just always assumed that was a Luthor thing.

Lena: Believe me I wouldn't be a surprise if it was a Luthor thing. My eyes turn gold whenever I am angry or scared.

You: How did we never notice before?

Lena: *smiles* you guys were always a lot more interested with your Kryptonian side than you were with the human side.

Liam: what about investors, shitty businessmen, and just downright awful people.

Lena: normally just look away and calm myself down.

You: are there any perks to being a werewolf

Lena: We have access to super speed, super strength, enhanced agility, durability, regenerative abilities, and enhance senses. These are all accessible after the curse is triggered, in human form and in wolf form where these powers are stronger.

You: I’m sorry there’s more of us?

Lena: when I was trying to figure out this wolf stuff more, I ran into a couple of packs on the east coast. Met my friend Hayley, she helped me understand more about myself and in return, I helped her with a wolf problem in Mystic Falls. I wanted out of the Supernatural World and Hayley gave me the only Moonlight Ring we knew of. Haven't been back since.

Nia: Says the girl who married an alien, has half-alien children, and a friend group that is 70% not human.

Jamie: Is this on the Luthor side?

Lena: Oh god no! Can you imagine what Lex would've done if this was in his genes.

Alex: I asked that question too. *proud mama smirk*

Lena: my grandfather was from New Orleans he had the gene, when he moved to Ireland he met my grandmother and the rest is history.

Kelly: How did you trigger the curse, again?

Lena: Veronica Sinclair always had this fancy yacht party, I was drunk and accidentally killed someone. Two weeks later every bone in my body contorted, broke reshaped itself to make the wolf skeleton.

You: *winces*

Lena: It lasted hours luckily I locked myself in the apartment I had. Went to the Luthor Manor to see if I could find anything. In Lionel's study, I found a letter from my mom. Explaining the whole thing to me. *takes off the ring and hands it to you*

You: mom but you'll...

Lena: I don't want you to go through that *smiles at you*

You: I don't want you to go through that again, we will do it together

Lena: *smiles and kisses your forehead* I'll work on finding someone to make you a moonlight ring.

You: El Mayarah

[let-me-luve-you]

Almost a Goodbye

Tom Holland x Sister (with Sam and a little bit of Paddy)

Summary: Your brothers interrupt you before you make a life changing decision.

Warnings: attempted suicide, angst, comforting brothers, difficult talks, vulnerable reader

A/N: This is a very triggering story, so please do not read if you think you will be effected by it.

MASTERLIST

Three months. That’s how long it’s been since your family had been fully together. Tom and Harry were in the States filming for the new Spider-Man movie. They were set to return in a little over a month. Being the only Holland girl within the siblings, you were protected and worshiped by your brothers. Yes you had your fights with them, but at the end of the day, you were family and you all loved each other. Even though Tom took Harry with him all the time, Tom was actually closest with you.

Recently you had been quiet. You stayed in your room more. Only went to school and home. Everyone just thought it was school since finals were coming up. But what no one knew was all the hate you got online and in person. People kept saying how you were using your brother to try and make your life easier. Thought you were using his name to get good grades by bribing the professors. The list of things people thought about you were endless.

At first you ignored it. Especially when it was only online. Then it started to happen in person and it slowly started to get to you. You didn’t want to believe them, but the more they said it, the more you did.

After weeks of constantly looking at the hate on social media and hearing people whisper about you at school, you finally hit your breaking point. People who had been your friends stopped talking to you. You couldn’t do it anymore. You decided that morning that today would be your last day.

You skipped school. Found a quiet, isolated place in the park. You pulled out your spiral to write your final words. Writing a note to every single person in your family except Tom. That was going to be the hardest one. He would be so disappointed in you. Hate you for giving up. You couldn’t write one. At least not yet.

After walking in the house, you quietly declined the food your dad offered you. Saying you grabbed food on the way home. You went to your room and shut the door. You sat your backpack down and sat at your desk. Deciding now would be the time to write your letter to Tom.

What seemed so hard, flowed so easily. You expressed how hard it had been. How you tried to ignore it and fight. That nothing was getting better. It felt like your whole world was falling around you and trying to bury you. Tears fell on the paper. You didn’t even know you had started crying. You finished the letter with an “I’m sorry. I love you.”

You went to your bedside table and grabbed the over the counter pain pills. You sat on your bed staring at them. You didn’t realize you had been sitting there for so long until you heard Sam.

“Hey Y/N/N, I made a new dessert. Want to come try it?” Sam asked. You looked up startled. You quickly moved the pain pills to the side where Sam couldn’t see them. “You okay?”

You panicked slightly knowing you had tears still falling down your face. “Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll be down in a bit. I’m not very hungry.”

Sam moved to sit by you. “Y/N you know you can talk to me.” He said as he saw Paddy in the doorway. “What’s going on? Is it school? Friend problems?”

“You can talk to me too. I always listen.” Paddy added as he walked towards your desk to sit down. He looked at the note that still lied on your desk. “What… What is this Y/N?”

Your head snapped up to see Paddy holding the letter to Tom. You shot off the bed to grab it from him but he ducked your advance and showed it to Sam. Sam started reading it and then saw the pain pills on your bed. He teared up finally understanding what was going on.

“Y/N/N baby…” Sam said as he looked up at you. “Talk to me.”

“I.. I uh..” You stuttered. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Make me understand.” He almost pleaded.

“I just…” You sighed as you sat on the bed. You grabbed your pillow and hugged it close. “I just can’t do it anymore. I have no friends. Everyone just talks crap about me online. I’d be doing everyone a favor if I was just gone.”

“You’re wrong.” Paddy spoke up. “I wouldn’t be able to fully function without you. You help me so much. You’re always looking out for me. Making sure I do my homework, or helping me with it. You fix me dinner when Mum, Dad, and Sam are working.”

“Paddy anyone can do that for you.” You sighed. “I’m never going to be good enough. I just want to be good enough.”

“Y/N you are the best damn thing that has happened to this family. Between us siblings, you’re the glue that keeps us going. You are the one that helps all of us.” Sam said as a tear fell down his face. “You give and give and give but you never take. Let us take care of you for once. Let us take away some of the pain you are feeling. Talk. to. us.”

“I can’t.” You whispered.

Sam sat down on your bed next to you. He wrapped you in a hug and kissed your forehead. “You can. You know why. You’re the strongest person I know.”

“Ca-… Can I just wait for Tom to come home and talk to him? I promise I won’t do anything stupid.” Sam sighed. Sam knows Tom is coming home early to surprise you, but it was still a week away.

“Tom won’t be home for a month. You know this Y/N. We can’t let you sit on something like this for that long.” Paddy said.

“How about this? Tonight we don’t talk. We just hang out and watch a movie. We can sit here and when you are ready to talk to us. We can talk.” Sam said.

“Just please don’t tell anyone. If I have to talk to you, please don’t tell mum and dad. And please please please don’t tell Tom or Harry. I don’t want them to worry. They have enough on their plates.” You begged.

“Okay, for now this is between us.” Sam lied.

“I’ll go get the popcorn, dessert, and pick out a movie for us. Meet in Sam’s room.” Paddy dictated. “Also wear your onesies I got you for Christmas last year.” You and Sam laughed at his bossiness.

The next week flew by. It was Friday afternoon and you didn’t have any classes. Your parents decided to take a small vacation to Ireland for the weekend to have time for themselves. Sam was working. Paddy was at a friends house. You sat in the living room watching tv.

He had told Tom that night after you had gone to bed. He had to get Harry to stop Tom from missing his last week of work. He tried to tell him he was watching you like a hawk and getting small bits and pieces out of you. Finally, one night you blew up. You were so angry at everything that day, that you just exploded on Sam. He finally understood.

He talked to you about deleting the social media apps from your phone and not getting on any of the websites on your computer. You easily agreed after you calmed down. Sam had noticed the difference in your attitude. He knew you still had work to do, but it was getting better.

Tom and Harry had just landed. Sam had texted when he left for work that your plan was to watch tv and movies all day since you had the house to yourself. Tom hopped into the driver seat of his car with Harry in the passenger seat. Tom dropped Harry off at home, knowing this was a conversation that needed to be had between just him and his sister.

As Tom pulled into his parents driveway, he started to get anxious. He sat there for a minute trying to gather his thoughts. He sighed as he got out of the car. He went to the back seat to get the bag of things he had bought for you. He always brings back something from each movie he films, but this time he went a little overboard when he was at your favorite shop.

He quietly walked in the front door. He walked towards the living room where he could hear the movie playing. When he peaked in, he saw you cuddling up with your favorite blanket asleep. He gently put the bag down next to your head as he sat down next to you. He pushed some of your hair behind your ear. He looked at you for a moment just to try to remember every detail he can. He almost lost you and he isn’t willing to risk wasting anymore time not embracing the moment.

“If you keep staring, I won’t grow a second head like I’ve always wanted.” You said as you started to wake up.

Tom laughed, “Just wanted to see how long it took you to wake up.”

“Well I’m awake now.” You acted annoyed as you sat up. “I really missed you Tomothy. Why are you home so early? I thought you weren’t due home until next month?” You said hugging him as you said his nickname.

“I missed you too, Goofy Goober. We wrapped early. I told everyone else and asked them not to tell you so I could surprise you.” He gave you a kiss on your head. “How have you been? How’s school?”

“Everything’s great.” You lied.

“Please don’t lie to me.” Tom sighed.

“I’m not.” Another lie.

“Sam told me.” Tom said. The color left your face as you heard what Tom said. “I’m not mad. I just want to talk about it. He also told me what you guys talked about a few nights ago. Thought it would be easier to have this conversation.” You looked away from Tom.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered. “I swear I’m getting better now. I even scheduled an appointment with a therapist. Sam doesn’t know that though. I regret what I almost did. I’m going to get better. I promise you that.” You felt tears fall from your eyes. You tried to avoid looking at Tom.

Tom put his hand under you chin and turned your head towards his. “Look at me Y/N/N.” You refused to meet his eyes. “Come on. You can do it.” You slowly lifted your eyes to his. You noticed he was tearing up.

“I’m going to be with you in this fight. This isn’t something you have to fight alone.” He whispered. “No matter what, I will be here for you. I don’t care if it is 3 am and I’m on the other side of the world. I will answer a phone call or I’ll be on the next flight out. Nothing is more important than family. Not work, not Spider-Man, not anything. You are one of the most important people in my life.”

You started to cry harder as Tom continued. “When I got that phone call, it scared the living life out of me. I was on my way to ask for sometime off when Harry stopped me. He said Sam was helping you. That if I focused, the week would fly by and I could get home to you sooner.” You smiled at him.

“I’m really glad you’re home. I’m sorry for scaring you.”

“Don’t worry about that now. Now we focus on getting you healthy and winning this battle.” Tom said wiping your tears from your cheeks.

“But I’m healthy.” You said confused.

“Mental health is just as important as physical. It’s okay to not be okay. But together and with the help from Sam, Harry, Paddy, Mum, and Dad, we are going to get you back to your normal self. Help you learn how to cope with thoughts like that.” Tom said.

“I’m trying to learn to ignore people. They don’t know me.” You said. Tom smiled.

“Exactly. And for the hate you are getting from my fans, I’ll be saying something about that. I’m not going to stand by and watch them hurt someone I love.” Tom said.

“I love you Tom. Thank you for being the best big brother.” You said wrapping him up in a big hug. “Okay time for the important question, what present did you bring me?”

“I love you too Goofy Goober.” Tom said kissing your forehead. He laughed at your last question. “It’s all in the bag right there.” He pointed at the bag that now sits by your feet. You moved to start looking through it. “Now, what movie are we watching next?”

[spacetimewraithwrites-archive]

Four F Friday...#2 🤦🏽‍♂️

(Fight, Flee, Fluff, & F*ck)

(Do Not Read Unless You Are 18 Years Or Older etc.)

(Further tw: violence, blood, drug/addiction mention)

Your first surprise is that this is back, at least once.

...Your second is that it’s a mildly AU Guetry/Scotty piece.

(ps if this is your introduction to WASTE no it’s not ❤)

(pps this is lengthy. good christ. you’ve been warned.)

Guetry tilted his beat guitar against his hip and glanced upward at the rafters of the empty auditorium, satisfied when the chord he’d played a second ago poured through the speakers and lingered in the air without technical difficulty. Tingling erupted from his temple and spread to his wrist, his skin chilling where his tattoo sleeve gently strobed with purple light.

“Okay,” he murmured into the microphone in front of him. His voice carried across the space, still low from the weight of “Carbon Dated Monsters”—a pulsing, sensual song that had a reputation of causing dank and dirty feelings throughout Skywaste listeners. “Folks, this next number is a cover of a classic little ditty from the 1950s, a pair of guys from New Jersey—I think one of ‘em was from Ireland, actually—”

Alec scoffed, sitting at her drum kit behind him. “Could you imagine?”

When Guetry blinked, his vision clouded around the edges, the same calming violet from his tattoo. Scotty was getting impatient. “Oh, I could. Could you?”

He turned, waggling his eyebrows at Alec over his shoulder.

“Let’s take five,” she said after a convincing gagging sound. “You’re getting punchy.”

“I’m gonna need at minimum...four hours.”

“Four? You’re not seeing that shady augment person again, are you?”

“You know the law, babe.” Guetry turned off the wireless connection to the guitar and made his way to its case, which he’d settled haphazardly off of stage left. He settled the instrument inside and crouched to clamp the case shut. “Technically speaking, it’s not sex work if they’re not real.”

Alec sighed and packed up her sticks. “Living, breathing sex workers need the money. Support them like the rest of us.”

The idea of Alectura Wu participating in something like that was so beyond the norm that Guetry laughed aloud. “Like you wouldn’t be all over the practice if Parys gave you the okay.”

“If she gave me the okay, I’d divorce her immediately because that would clearly not actually be her.”

“Shit, I’m not even married to her and I would, too,” Guetry muttered, hopping off the stage and grabbing his long coat from a seat in the front row. He fished for his comm device from his coat pocket before sliding into the garment. He peeked at the notifications, then unlocked the device. “Five texts from Warren...there’s a surprise. The man’s in love with me. Scotty, put me through to Snap, would you?”

“Of course,” Scotty said in his head. The screen of the comm device flashed, indicating an outgoing call.

Alec hung around the stage as Guetry began his departure. “Sure, Warren’s in love with you.”

He raised a middle finger, not breaking his stride.

—

Snap didn’t answer the call until Guetry was already halfway to the tram station. “What’s up, slut?”

Guetry eyed Node residents as he passed them, one hand in his coat pocket while the other gripped the comm device close to his face. He hoped he wouldn’t be recognized behind his high collar, shrinking inward somewhat to avoid detection. “You got any openings? Got a break in rehearsal and I’m just about launched.”

“Yeah, my two afternoon cancelled. Come have at your depravity.”

“Have you ever met Alec? I feel like you guys would get along very well.”

“What’s it gonna be this time?”

Guetry blinked through another purple fog. “Same old.”

“Huh. I might sit in on this one, actually. Been kinda curious about how these things go.”

“Look, I’d be the first to tell you that augment can be quite the spectator sport.” He sidestepped a pack of silhou teenagers sprinting down the walkway against the majority flow of foot traffic. “...But not this. This one’s mine and mine alone.”

“Must be real gnarly, then. Think it might be more lucrative to squawk to the press about all this.”

Guetry rattled off something quick and French.

There was a pause on Snap’s end. “...You hope I sit on a lit match and my asshole burns?”

“Going through a tunnel, krrsh.” Guetry disconnected the call manually and exhaled, amused, stepping into the tram station. “‘Course the fucker knows French.”

—

The trip took, in total, about an hour. The most inconvenient part about getting to the seedier end of the Consortium Node’s Northern Division was all the car changes he had to do. He still didn’t feel comfortable the farther into the division he traveled, even though he could handle himself as far as self-defense went.

Snap’s base of operations was the basement of a tattoo shop. As deep into the heart of disenfranchisement as their neighborhood was, the shop was the cleanest on the space station as far as sterilization and practice went.

Guetry entered the shop to the sound of a lone machine buzzing away into someone’s back in a far corner. “Sweet Lollie.”

The artist paused to look up, and she grinned at him. “Afternoon, dickhead,” she said, her thick voice and Glaswegian brogue filling the room. Her client had fallen dead asleep in her chair, earbuds firmly in their ears. “Finally gonna let me get at the other side of that beautiful neck of yours?”

“Only if you ask really nicely,” Guetry said. “And choke me out a little as you’re doing it.”

“Oh, I would’ve done that part anyway.”

Guetry, sufficiently flattered, let out a velvety chuckle. “I’m actually here for Snap.”

Sweet Lollie nodded, wiping down a section of her client’s tattoo. “Aye, they’re here. Go on down.”

The basement, which could be reached by way of a chilled staircase in the back room, was lit sapphire blue by two lone bulbs hanging from an unfinished ceiling. Guetry shrank a bit more within his coat as he descended, the usual dread seeping into his shoulders the closer he got to the computer terminal sitting in the middle of the room.

“Yo,” Snap said from behind the monitor. They poked their head around the transparent screen, a shock of choppy red hair appearing black under the blue light. “Augment room’s all set up for you. Need your adapter?”

“Yeah.” Guetry accepted the cable extended to him, then looked at it. He hesitated. “It’s okay that I do this, right?”

Snap dropped onto their seat and shrugged. “I mean...you’re not hurting anyone.”

Twirling the cable between his fingers, Guetry frowned. “...I’m not so sure that I’m not.” He jumped when Snap slammed a fist on the keyboard in front of them and resumed their previous task as if nothing happened.

“No one’s forcing you to do it, bro,” they said. “If you wanna walk, it’s your business.”

Guetry shot a furtive look at the door to the augment room. He reached up and pressed on his temple, ejecting his port and wiping the resulting blood away with his hand. “Guess I’ll figure it out later.”

The augment room was cramped and dark, but that was conducive to the intense, immersive experience that would take place within. Soundproof and completely inaccessible to anyone outside once activated, the only way anyone would be able to get Guetry out from that point forward would be for Snap to override the lock.

An armchair adorned with all kinds of tech sat on the other side of the room, and on it rested a wide VR set that wrapped around into a headpiece with nodes attached. Guetry stared at it for a few seconds, clenching his fists within the pockets of his coat. The guilt almost consumed him, then, thinking about what he’d initially gone there to do. The bond he could potentially ruin if anyone found out.

“Would you like to try something different?” Scotty asked, breaking the numbing silence. “I have a scenario in mind that could be more cathartic for you, specifically.”

Guetry shrugged out of his coat and took the headset, hooking the adapter cable up to the port sticking out of his temple. He plugged the other end into the headset. “Yeah, what is it...?”

“Do you trust me?”

Guetry couldn’t help but smile, reclining the chair and placing the headset on his face and head. He attached the remaining tech in their proper places and fully relaxed in the chair. “More than I trust myself.”

“Very good.”

The augment booted up immediately. Guetry found himself in a crowded bar, straining to pick out one consistent sound over the din of bodies around him. All shapes and sizes, all Consortium species, milling about and oblivious to him or whatever he was doing there.

He turned to his right, where a seat had just opened up at the counter. He could smell the sugary drinks and bitter liquor, the airy fruit of vapor floating around. He ran his hands over the bar, the vinyl squeaking beneath his fingertips.

A Rotangan bartender sat a glass of gin in front of him.

Recoiling, Guetry shook his head and leaned forward. “Ah, no thanks. I can’t stomach gin anymore.”

The next voice came from his direct left. “Since when?”

He swiveled hard, coming face-to-face with Oren Altavian sitting beside him. If Guetry had been a cat, he’d have an arched back and fur standing straight on end. “Oh, god. Not you. Anyone but you.”

A flash of smug crossed Oren’s face, then it was replaced by an exaggerated pout and he picked up the glass in front of Guetry. “Now, now. You’re going to hurt my feelings.”

“Scotty, how is this cathartic? I would rather have deep-throated a chainsaw than see this son of two bitches again.”

Before he could get a response, Oren turned to him, daintily sipping the gin. “Who’s Scotty? That your latest rebound?”

Guetry fought the urge to bolt, attempting unsuccessfully to plan out an exit. “Will saying yes cause you to spontaneously combust? If yes, then yes. Six thousand times.”

“I’m not doing anything to anybody, garçon. I’m just minding my own business.” Oren pinned him with a deep stare. “You look good.”

“It’s this new self-care regimen I follow called Staying Three Light-Years Away from You at All Times. You should try it.”

Oren laughed. “That’s good.”

Shuddering, Guetry turned up the collar of his coat. “Please don’t.”

“Hey, if you wanna get away from me so bad, you know where the doors are.” Oren touched the bottom rim of the glass to Guetry’s arm. “Something tells me there’s a little part of you that wants to stay. Maybe it’s all the times you jingled miserably across the floor back to me.”

Guetry looked sharply at Oren’s fingers making their way over to him.

“I mean it, though, you look good. And I get why you keep leaving. I’m an asshole. It’s who I am, though.” Oren set the glass down and slipped his hand into the sleeve of Guetry’s coat, brushing the tips of his fingers up his arm. “...I also get why you keep coming back. Right? The part of you that will always belong to me no matter how far from me you’ve moved on. The fact that I was your first real love, your first real thing.”

Guetry dragged his stare up to Oren’s face.

“...Truth is, I’ve missed you.” Oren took a deep breath, as if the weight of the galaxy had dropped onto his shoulders with abundant melodrama. “I...think maybe, if you let it...we can work this out. I just mean...I’d like to try to change. For you.”

Guetry watched him for a second. Then he cocked his fist and bashed it into Oren’s face.

Oren let out a howl, and the noise of the bar stopped on a dime. Patrons turned to the commotion, but some avoided acknowledging it altogether.

Snatching a fistful of Oren’s hair, Guetry dragged him off the barstool and onto the floor, parting the crowd as he did so. “Think you can change for me? Want me to help you out a little bit, baby?” He snatched the glass of gin and dumped it onto Oren, satisfied at the screech he let loose due to the alcohol running over his busted nose. Then, Guetry smashed the glass against the side of Oren’s head, causing a few people to scream. He didn’t hear them. “Maybe change your clothes first, huh, limp dick?”

He vaguely caught someone telling him to let go, but he ignored them.

“I’ve been four years clean no thanks to you,” Guetry spat at Oren, perversely delighting in the blood streaming from his face. “Every time I get close enough to relapse, I think of you, and I get sick enough to chase that urge away for months. So maybe you have done me some good after all.”

Oren blindsided him by throwing his weight up and into him, pinning him to the bar and swinging at him. Guetry blocked in time but couldn’t avoid the knee to the stomach, and he doubled over, giving Oren the opening he needed to grab him by the throat and bend him back into the counter.

“You’re fucking the wrong asshole, you stupid junkie,” Oren hissed. “I’m what makes this fucking station run. You think those ‘Sort delegates don’t know me by name? You think I don’t have senators sucking pipes using the shit I sling? Do you know who I am?”

Though he currently couldn’t breathe and his rage coursed through him faster and hotter than lightning, Guetry smiled. “Now...this...I missed.”

CRACK!

Guetry blinked—suddenly he could breathe again. He gasped and hacked as Oren dropped to the floor, dead weight, and a man stood behind him holding a cane that had clearly been used to put Oren down.

The man, pale blond with a modest smattering of freckles across his nose, gently handed the cane back to the woman standing next to him. “Thank you,” he said. He held a hand out to Guetry, who was still nursing his throat and taking full advantage of his albeit briefly halted ability to breathe. “It would be best to leave now.”

Guetry nodded, taking the stranger’s hand and hurrying with him out of the bar just as the siren of the security car sounded in the distance. They jogged through alleys, squeezed through crowds and stopped in a maintenance tunnel once they were sure they could no longer hear the incoming trouble.

Doubling over again, Guetry took a second to refocus. “Right,” he panted. “Okay. Okay...I’m...so sorry you got roped into this.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I was happy to do it.”

Guetry paused, the voice finally registering as familiar. He looked up at the man and squinted. “...Do I know you?”

The man smiled warmly, but the way he stood was stiff, yet somehow lifeless at the same time. “Intimately.”

Slowly straightening his spine, Guetry looked down at the man’s eyes. He hadn’t imagined it—they were purple. A lavender-grayish shade that would’ve been undetectable to anyone in passing. The breath with which he’d just been reunited left him again, and his stomach flopped ungracefully. The next word he said was quiet, reverent.

“...Scotty?”

“Yes.” Scotty’s smile widened, and his expression made way for excitement. “I’ve constructed a virtual body, you could say. Going by your preferences, or what physically attracts you the most out of the data I could observe. What do you think?”

Guetry’s head reeled. He backed into the wall, taking in all of what he could see. The soft face, the light brown eyelashes, the petal pink lips. “Yeah…yeah, it’s…wow.”

“Are you alright?” Scotty became visibly concerned. “That was quite the confrontation.”

Guetry’s stomach and throat were still sore, but he became distracted by something before he could voice it. “Wait…you curated this scenario.”

Scotty's face—a concept strange and bizarre—fell slightly. “The intention was for me to act somewhat as a knight in shining armor of sorts. I was caught up so deeply in my part that I didn't consider how it would affect you. Please accept my apologies.”

Guetry's heart remained lodged in his throat but his pulse slowed to its normal level. He planted his hands on his hips. “That was all before you,” he said. “You couldn’t have known the full extent of his shit. He’d never gotten physical before, but damn...I gotta say, I wish I could’ve done all that in reality.”

“Still…I’d like to make sure you’re alright. Injuries may not be real in an augment, but the pain is. It would be the least I could do. To show you that…” Scotty crossed his arms suddenly, as if remembering then that he could do exactly that. “To show you that you deserve someone to look after you. It’s what I had originally set out to do.”

“How you gonna do that, darling?”

The emotion behind Scotty’s eyes shifted at that, and his cheeks burned a faint pink. “I have a place. If you’d like to come with me.”

—

It was an apartment Guetry could afford, but would never have thought about purchasing in his entire life. Spacious and sleek, with every amenity he could dream up and some he couldn’t. He stood in the center of the main room, watching out of the enormous floor to ceiling windows as the simulated sky faded into common night. High-end furniture surrounded him, and it was all clinical, almost sterile. He draped his coat and the outer layers of his clothes onto the kitchen table.

“This is your dream place?” Guetry asked, turning to Scotty, who’d stepped up beside him.

“It was one of the first listings I’d found when curating this augment.”

“What do you think’s gonna happen here?”

Scotty once again blushed, choosing not to look up at him. “I’d...like to care for you.”

Guetry snorted softly, bringing a knuckle up to Scotty’s cheek. “Did you know you could blush?”

...Except he didn’t get the full question out, as his finger met corporeal flesh. Plush, warm. He wasn’t sure what he’d anticipated, but it wasn’t that.

Scotty did look at him, then, and something in his face told Guetry that he’d been surprised, too.

“...Oh, wow,” Guetry breathed again. He dragged the back of his fingers over Scotty’s cheekbone. “...How’s that feel for you?”

“I’m not sure I can describe it,” Scotty said. His voice came out halting, almost overwhelmed.

“Yeah?” Guetry carefully moved closer to Scotty, threading his fingers through his hair. He navigated around the inferno roaring into him with every motion. “Feels amazing to me.”

“Would you like to sit down? Are you still in pain?”

“I’m fine. Augment pain is temporary, that’s the beautiful thing about it. People do all kinds of fucked shit in these things. Freedom without risk.”

Scotty turned his new body to face him. “I must admit...it’s wonderful to be able to look at you like this. To see you as an entity in front of me rather than a reflection in a mirror.”

“This is kinda what I expected you to look like if you had a physical form.” Guetry used the pad of his thumb to tilt Scotty’s head up so he could see his face better. “Again...the purple eyes are new.”

“If you’ll allow me, I’d like to at least attempt to accomplish one of my goals.”

“Sure, honey.”

Whatever Scotty was going to do became moot at the use of his term of endearment. He tilted his head at Guetry, his eyebrows raised, and a slow smile curled across Guetry’s face.

“You like that?”

Scotty’s gaze dropped to Guetry’s throat, and though he’d only seen that face for about an in-augment hour, he could tell the wheels were spinning as fast as they could, gears noisily clunking around in his skull.

Guetry decided on the spot that whatever he was thinking of doing to his throat from kissing to slitting would’ve been just fine with him. “Do you happen to know the best way you could possibly take care of me?” When Scotty shook his head, Guetry leaned close. “If you want me, you can have me.”

Scotty only processed for a fraction of a second before shoving forward for an initially awkward kiss. Guetry repositioned them and then—bliss.

Their mouths fit together like long-lost puzzle pieces. Parts of the same circuit. Every other kiss in the augment was imagined, artificial, slathered in guilt and pitiful wish-fulfillment, but this was real. It was heat, it was full lips that instantly made Guetry drunk with lust, it was the way Scotty pulled him closer and ran his hands up the back of his ribs and dug his nails into his shoulder blades as if branding a personal possession.

“Mm, okay, this is getting real,” Guetry grunted, gathering Scotty into his arms and carrying him the four steps to the pristine white couch. “You’re doing great, by the way.”

“Excellent.” Scotty was settled on his lap as Guetry sat, burying his face into his neck and lavishing him with further kisses and gentle nips. “I...was worried I would’ve done something wrong without realizing.”

“Even if you did something wrong it would be fucking incredible,” Guetry huffed, dragging his mouth down to Scotty’s clavicle. “And you gotta tell me if I do too much. It’s a two-way street, honey.” Scotty shivered, and Guetry looked at his face, grinning. “Ooh...that’s it, isn’t it? You like being praised? I didn’t think you’d be into that. Gonna put that to good use.”

“I’m supposed to be taking care of you...”

“What do you wanna do, then?”

Scotty bit his lip, eyes roaming over every one of Guetry’s features. “You see...I had a plan all sorted, but now that I’m touching you and currently sitting on your lap, even in artificial reality...”

“It’s wild.” Guetry smoothed his hands up Scotty’s shirt, palms gliding over bare skin. It felt real, warm, inviting. “It’s so wild...I’m having trouble keeping myself in check, here.”

Scotty caught his eye. “...Then don’t.”

“Hey,” Guetry whispered, and he could feel himself unraveling. “If you mean it, and you want it, let’s do this. Otherwise, we can do anything else.”

Inhaling—another strange phenomenon—Scotty nodded. “Yes. I want it. I never knew I could feel this...powerfully about it. I’m a bit overwhelmed, but you have my enthusiastic consent.”

“Alright,” Guetry breathed, gathering Scotty in his arms again. “Fantastic. I’m gonna take you on this couch if that’s cool.”

“I don’t think I could wait to move anywhere else.” Scotty already had Guetry’s shirt halfway over his head, and he trailed his fingers along the massive tattoo spreading from his wrist to his pectoral and up his throat. “This is exquisite.”

“Yeah. It’s a pretty damn good piece, right? I wanted more, but I don’t think any other tattoos could compete.”

“I can feel the scars underneath it. Part of me likes to think I could have helped prevent them.”

“No, no,” Guetry murmured, pushing the hem of Scotty’s shirt up over his head as well. “None of that, now. We’re feeling good, right?”

Scotty took some of Guetry’s hair in hand and tipped his head back. “Yes.”

Guetry accepted his kiss, fiery and purposeful, and he encouraged with his hands for Scotty to move his hips. He started slow, grinding into him with enough friction to cause Guetry to audibly convey his approval, but not too fast that there wouldn’t have been time to enjoy it before it was all over. Guetry clutched at him, mind still a whirl of emotions as he felt a breath of static ghosting through his brain, reminding him that this was real and yet it was very much not at the same time.

He slipped his hands past the waistband of Scotty’s pants as Scotty broke away to focus his attention on his throat, suckling with surprising intensity. Guetry winced with pain that translated like a gunshot into pleasure, eyes blowing wide at the combination of that and the slow grind on his lap. The static roared, and he turned to lay Scotty down on the couch beside him, climbing over him.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, hurrying to shove Scotty’s pants down. “I’m sorry.”

Scotty nodded encouragingly and smiled, helping him unzip. “It’s okay.”

“Normally I’m so on top of foreplay, but I swear to god I’ve never been more turned on in my entire life...” Guetry hurriedly looked around for something, anything to be used as lubrication, grunting a little when he came up empty. “If I gotta use the nasty grease from the couch springs, don’t think I won’t.”

“Check the cushion.”

A visible glitch flashed from the cushion underneath them, almost as if that specific part of the augment had been debugged. Guetry glanced at Scotty before shoving a hand between the cushion and the back of the couch. He pulled out a rose-gold bottle, staring at it. “...You know, I don’t have proof but I think our temporally-challenged friends have been dipping into my peach lube supply—”

Scotty pushed up to kiss him, bringing him back into the present. Guetry pressed onto him, curling an arm around Scotty’s head to do nothing but revel in his lips, his tongue, his breath on his face, before he found he once again couldn’t wait any longer.

Guetry stood and stripped, giving Scotty the opportunity to follow suit before falling together on the couch again. Guetry used his fingers to prep Scotty, all so rushed, all so impatient, but Scotty didn’t stop him or give him any reason to believe he wasn’t feeling it as well.

“Okay, shit,” Guetry hissed, easing himself into him as he gripped the back of the couch. He almost laughed, he was so taken aback. “Shit. You feel so good, Scotty.”

“Do you remember Mercury Lyons?” Scotty asked, face flush with color as Guetry started a sweet, easy pace and propped a leg onto his shoulder.

Guetry, having been miles away until that moment, nodded. “Oh, I think about Adam every day.”

“Why have you never fantasized about him in an augment?”

“I’ve already been with him. I don’t need to fabricate a scenario when I’ve got the first-hand memory.”

“You miss him.”

“So much.” Guetry slid a palm up Scotty’s chest, surprised to a feel a thudding heartbeat beneath his ribs. “But we’ll see each other again, he said so himself.”

Scotty laid an arm above his own head, watching Guetry with lazy contentment as he moved within him. “When you do meet again, you could experience this exact augment with him.”

“Instead of you?”

“Including me.”

“Are you asking me for a threesome?”

“It could be nice.” Scotty teased the length of himself with his fingers, delighting in the rush of pink to Guetry’s face and chest. “It’s only a suggestion.”

“Scotty...” Guetry did laugh this time, leaning over and bracing himself over him with an arm. “You ready to rock my world, baby?”

“I’ve been ready for years.”

On that concession, Guetry began to move in earnest, abandoning the back of the couch in favor of hooking his arms under Scotty’s legs. Scotty tilted his head back, curling his fingers around the fabric of the cushion above him, and the static increased. It developed a heat, a glitter, pulsing with each drive of Guetry’s hips into Scotty’s, and it filled every sensation, coating their pleasure with fuzz and the strangest high of Guetry’s life.

Scotty carefully reached up and took Guetry’s throat.

“More,” Guetry breathed. When Scotty squeezed his fingers, bit by bit against the sides of his neck, Guetry shifted so he could reach better. “...Good boy.”

A shudder ripped through Scotty that Guetry could feel in his toes.

After a minute, Guetry unhooked himself and urged Scotty to turn onto all fours, resuming his pace. “Doin’ okay, honey?”

“Yes,” Scotty groaned into the cushion.

“Yeah, you are.” Guetry’s hands were all over him, then, still immersed in static and tingling in every nerve of his body. “You’re tensin’ up on me.”

“Keep going...”

“I got you. Let go, darlin’, I got you.”

Another second passed in ecstatic wordlessness only broken by both of their heavy breathing and the sounds of skin on skin, then an aura of rainbow exploded off of Scotty, the air around him breaking and warping in increments of half a second at a time.

Guetry continued on, using the couch once again to brace himself. “Where do you want me?”

Scotty clawed at the couch. “Inside.”

“You sure? I need to know now, or—”

In answer, Scotty reached behind him and held Guetry’s hips to him. Guetry stilled, his muscles and skin aflame, uncertain if he, too, had an aura but sure feeling as if that were the case regardless. He rode the waves out, murmuring Scotty’s name repeatedly, lovingly caressing his back.

They stayed as is, rousing back to full consciousness, Guetry holding onto Scotty’s hips as Scotty ran an affectionate hand up Guetry’s arm.

...Then, like a jolt of electricity, the guilt hit.

Guetry, hesitant, extricated himself from Scotty. “That was...amazing.”

Picking up something suddenly amiss, Scotty swiveled his head. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I...” Guetry frowned. “D’you need help getting cleaned up?”

Scotty eyed him. “I wouldn’t mind.”

—

Guetry dried his hands under the sonic dryer in the bathroom, unaware that he’d been silent since he left the living room with Scotty. Scotty, on the other hand, now fully uncorrupt but happy, did notice.

“Guetry?” he said softly.

Shaken out of his reverie, Guetry looked at him and sighed. “Sorry, I’ve just...”

“I know.”

Guetry half-perched against the sink, both of their prolonged nakedness not even setting in. He shrugged. “Post-sex blues.”

“Post-coital dysphoria. I know. Don’t minimize it for yourself. It holds no bearing on how you or I felt about this.” Scotty tilted his head. “...Perhaps now I can take care of you as I’d set out to do at the beginning of this augment.”

“What could you do for me?”

“What can I do for you?” Scotty smiled, a small, gentle smile Guetry was sure he didn’t deserve at the moment. “Would you like to help me make a pecan pie? It was a childhood favorite of yours, wasn’t it?”

“It was.” Guetry returned a fraction of his smile. “But...I’m not really in the mood for it.”

To his surprise, instead of pressing him, Scotty didn’t say anything at all, choosing to stand with him in silence until Guetry could formulate what he wanted to say.

“I don’t like being seen as vulnerable like this.”

“If you’d like me to stay or leave, either can be arranged. If you’d like to end the augment, I can arrange that as well.”

Guetry took a quick peek at himself in the mirror over his shoulder, inwardly cringing away from the too-thin, too-pale figure looking back at him. “Before anything else happens, I’d like to be way less buck-ass, if that’s okay with you.”

They ventured into their clothes, Scotty making small talk but otherwise giving Guetry his space. The artificial sun peeked up through the window, no visible star in sight but the sky turning a bright, flowery blue near the horizon of the neighborhood.

“Can we just,” Guetry started, then stopped. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “...This is gonna sound silly, but...damn it, I just really wanna hold you. I never thought I could get the chance, and I kinda don’t want this to end.”

Scotty stepped closer to him. “You have a real-world hour left of augment time. If you wanted to spend it all here, with me...you can.”

Guetry took Scotty’s hand and brought him even closer so they were chest-to-chest. “This could get dangerous,” he said. “You know I have an addictive personality.”

 “Yes, but you also have my support. And the support of Alec, and Warren, and Orthrive’poliea, and Varussa, Emnophene, Osillo—”

“I get it. I get it,” Guetry smoothed Scotty’s hair back on his head. “You’re right.”

“...I don’t see anything wrong with occasionally coming here to watch a sunrise or a sunset with me. And baking a pecan pie.”

“You and your pecan pie.” Guetry gazed deep into Scotty’s lavender eyes. “Was this all a ruse to get me stop augmenting the other scenario?”

“I did have concerns that Warren would find out.”

“If we do this again, I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“Leave Altavian out of it,” Guetry pleaded. “Far out of it. Like, out of the observable universe out of it. Next time I think I’d kill him, and I’m not ready for that conversation with myself.”

Scotty beamed. “Only if you do something for me.” To Guetry’s lifted brows, he snuggled into him. “Kiss me until we fade away.”

Guetry complied with utter relish.

—

The augment ended and stark reality hit Guetry like a tram car. He sat in the chair for a few minutes to allow his brain to fully disconnect from the experience, then he carefully took the headset off and sat in the chair some more.

“You good?” Snap asked over the intercom. “You’ve never been in there the full duration before.”

Guetry tugged his cable out and the wires off. “Yeah.”

“You coming back in two days?”

He could still feel Scotty’s arms around him, his skin on his skin, the safety of his smile. He rubbed his eyes, filling his lungs with air.

“Nah,” Guetry said. “I’ll be back next week, if I’ve got time.”

“Okay, man. I’ll see you then.”

Guetry gathered his coat, slipped it on, then patiently waited for Snap to let him out of the augment room. Scotty’s purple haze hugged his vision the whole way back to the rehearsal stage.

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

1D Monthly Fic Roundup

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for July 2021! Below you’ll find One Direction fics that were all published this month in the order they were submitted to the blog. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​.

Happy reading!

Game Changer by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 6k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Did the doctor say what was wrong with you?”

“He thought I was pregnant,” Louis scoffs. “Told me to go home and take a test, a pregnancy test, Haz. Can you imagine the nerve it takes for him to even think that?”

Harry looks lost in his thoughts for a few seconds. “Did you? Take a test, I mean?”

“Of course I didn’t.”

OR: A couple months before playing in his first long-awaited World Cup, Louis finds out he’s pregnant. Harry’s there for the ride.

(I Was Broke) You Healed Me by @fallinglikethis

[Harry/Niall, 12k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Niall Horan is an unmated pregnant omega living on his own after his alpha boyfriend leaves him. Far from his family and friends in Ireland, Niall is stuck living in a complex for Alpha/Omega bondmates, terrified every day of being found out by his landlord.As if that isn't enough, he's suffering from touch deprivation. Luckily, Niall's doctor can at least help him with that part: she prescribes Niall some cuddle sessions. It's only a little weird that the person she's prescribing him is her brother. Or maybe that's actually a little bit perfect.

The Only Pain in Pleasure is the Pleasure of the Pain by Layne Faire / @laynefaire

[Liam/Zayn, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Liam had followed InZaynity, an artist's Instagram, for ages. Not only was the artist incredibly talented, his voice poured over Liam like warm honey on a winter's night, and his hands were the stuff Liam's wank dreams were made of. However, having Zayn unexpectedly arrive as the newest artist at his best friend's tattoo shop brought Liam's fantasies and reality a little too close for comfort.

Zayn Malik met his boss' friend on his first day at Fine Line Tattoos, and felt an instant attraction. Unfortunately, given Liam's unwillingness to even hold a conversation with him, Zayn was certain the feelings weren't reciprocal. Or were they?

When Liam's new tattoo design falls outside the scope of Tommo's talent, and he recommends Zayn do it, Liam reluctantly agrees. Surely he could manage to spend hours in Zayn's company without revealing his biggest secret, right? Right?

Blow Me Away by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Liam, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis likes giving blow jobs.

He doesn't exactly get off on it – he's been with people who properly loved it, and he's not quite that into it – but he doesn't mind the feel or the taste and he really, really likes watching his partner lose it, so getting down on his knees regularly is a no brainer.

Which is why it's a bit frustrating that every time he does, Liam hauls him back up again.

Why Didn't We Make Out the Night We Met? by @berzerkshires

[Louis/Harry, 52k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Louis and Harry meet in an alley outside the hotel Louis is staying for the weekend. Harry introduces himself as Ed, and Louis is completely clueless. They have a relationship through text messages, phone calls, shared pictures and Facetime calls. Is a cell phone being the only source of communication enough? Will Louis ever learn that he's really talking to an international popstar? And what happens when the world is shutdown due to a wide spread virus?

I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) by @lululawrence

[Harry/Louis, 7k, Not rated, tumblr post]

“Stand up.”

Harry stood up from the couch, not a moment’s delay.

“Oh my god, is that what that’s like?” Harry turned to Louis, surprise on his face. “I really thought they were somehow exaggerating, but it really is an automatic response with absolutely no thought from me behind it whatsoever.”

Louis sighed again. “You really wanna keep doing this? Have me use my alpha voice on you so you can work on resisting it?”

“Yup,” Harry said, clapping his hands and smiling. “How else am I going to be able to have any chance at reducing the power an alpha voice has on me?”

I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right by @lululawrence

[Liam/Nick Grimshaw, 4k, Not rated, tumblr post]

Nick was a bit of a disaster, but she was used to it.

Or so she thought. She had never known how much she could struggle just to function until the new fire lady goddess angel person winked at her.

Oh, Those Summer Nights by cherrylarry / @beelou

[Louis/Harry, 1k, General, tumblr post]

“Are you okay?” He kneels down to inspect where Harry still has his hand pressed against his head.

“Oh! Yeah, I’m fine.”

“My name’s Louis. Can I buy you dinner or something to make up for hitting you in the head?”

Harry crinkles his eyebrows. “Me?”

Louis chuckles. “Yes, you. If you’d like?”

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Harry smiles so that his dimples show. “I’m Harry.”

“Harry, it's a date, then." Louis grins.

An extended scene of the beginning of the movie Grease as a larry au

people fall in love in mysterious ways (maybe just the touch of a hand) by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers, @justalarryblog / Bekita, @bluecolouredlou , @beelou / cherrylarry, @thedevilinmybrain / devilinmybrain, @hershelsue / docklands, @foreverfanficaddict,@idolizingthelight / idolizingthelightt, @inlockets / loveroflou, @perfectdagger, @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 13k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Set in a world where meeting your soulmate causes a literal spark, Louis Tomlinson has no time for fate. He knows all too well the heartbreak that having a soulmate can bring and he'd rather avoid the whole affair. But, when a chance meeting with up-and-coming popstar, Harry Styles, causes the biggest electrical surge the world has ever seen, Louis must confront the truth that sometimes destiny knocks when you least expect it.

Somehow, Someway by @zanniscaramouche

[Louis/Harry, 16k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis Tomlinson has everything all figured out for a smooth post-graduation sailing into the perfect career in the music industry. A canceled class, a high school play, and a disarming set of dimples were not part of the plan. (Especially when they belong to a boy wearing someone else’s jacket.)

Featuring: A punk with the worst timed crush in history, that moody art kid that never shares cigarettes, the cutest pastel-pink wearing boy on the planet, and his unfortunately nice bottle-blond jock of a boyfriend.

Forts & Fortunes by @neondiamond

[Louis/Harry, 2k, General, tumblr post]

It’s finals week at uni and Harry is struggling to find a healthy balance between studying and tending to his needs. Lucky for him, Louis is there to help him out with that.

One way to reduce tension by @neondiamond

[Harry/Louis, 1k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry knows of a few ways to help Louis get rid of some pent up stress…

We Got a Call by @greenblueish / bluegreenish

[Louis/Harry, 24k, Mature, tumblr post]

“Fisher from St Peter hospital, hello. Is this Mr Tomlinson?”

Louis’ eyebrows furrow in concern. Why is the hospital calling him? Has someone he knows been in an accident? “Uh, yes?”

“Great. Your results are in. Congratulations, you’re pregnant!”

“Pregnant?” he chokes, the word almost getting caught in his throat.

“Yes, without doubt,” the woman from the hospital confirms, her voice neutral but somehow chirpy. “I recommend promptly booking an appointment with your ob/gyn to discuss how to proceed.”

"I...Yeah, I’ll talk to my … partner.”

or, the one where Louis and Harry Tomlinson are married and Louis accepts a phone call that was definitely meant for his husband.

How Long Will We Fall (Before We Can Climb) by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 860 words, General, tumblr post]

Louis' faith in Harry is unbreakable. When they get caught kissing and he is thrown out of his home forever, he has to learn to have faith in himself.

Rope, Leather and Lipstick by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 552 words, Mature, tumblr post]

Something about ropes around wrists, and tinting skin the colour of strawberry ice cream, tender and kissed by dark lips. Smudging sticky red lipstick across the slight blue shadow of veins, and assuring hands tightening knots.

Lies & Liability by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou

[Louis/Harry, 34k, Mature, tumblr post]

Harry Styles has only three wishes when he leaves River Dane Manor to go to Town for his first season: that his sister has rented a townhouse that will provide him as many of the comforts of the country life he has grown accustomed to as possible, that he will not trip and fall when he is presented to Her Majesty the Queen, and that he will enter matrimony out of true love, no matter how favourable the match with any which alpha may be.

Sugar at Night by @brightgolden

[Harry/Louis, 33k, Explicit, tumblr post]

With a year left before he completes his degree, a wonderful fiancé, and a baby coming soon, life is going exceptionally well for Harry Styles.

But, the truth always has a way to unravel itself, doesn’t it?

So, what do you do when the person you fell in love with is not the person you thought they were?

I got myself in a mess (and without you I'm in more) by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Liam, 9k, Mature, tumblr post]

It’s not desire that has his synapses firing. It’s not the urge to jump him that makes him feel jittery.

It’s the fact that everything about this man - a nice, unassuming guy on Tinder, who studied IT and who seemed like a safe choice - screams danger. It’s the fact that Zayn has been absently touching his necklace for what feels like half the night now.

The necklace. Thank God for Lou, honestly. He’d laughed a bit, at first, when Louis had given it to him, when he’d explained all about the app that it was connected to, the emergency contacts that would be notified and sent his exact location “if you just double tap the back of the charm, see” because Louis was that friend, the mom friend, but right now? Right now Zayn will gladly take the gentle ribbing from Louis if it means he won’t have to spend another moment with this guy.

I don't care if the world knows by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry is fourteen when she buys her first binder. She’s been doing cosplay videos on Tiktok for a while at that point, and it seems like the logical choice. Not that there’s anything wrong with cosplaying characters of the opposite gender and not wanting to fully look like them, she’s seen plenty of wonderful creators put their own spin on characters in a way that transcends the source material, but when it comes to her own cosplays -

She just likes it to be accurate.

She likes her chest to be flat, not soft and curvy, when she’s wearing her Crowley cosplay, or when she’s transformed herself into Loki.

It’s all about the aesthetics.

∞

Over the course of a few years, Harry explores and comes to terms with gender identity.

It’s Probably Because I’ve Got a Big Lesbian Crush on You by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Harry's never really concerned herself with being part of the popular crowd. But as the new girl in school the second semester of her junior year, she finds herself unwittingly competing for Queen Bee status against high school royalty Louis Tomlinson. Maybe there's more to their rivalry than it seems.

A not-quite-Mean Girls AU

Going Green (so fucking green) by yeah_alright / @uhoh-but-yeah-alright

[Louis/Harry, 5k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Harry just really loves being used, and Louis really loves Harry. Who is he to deny him?

Or: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle but make it BDSM

the next bit was spanners to my plan by LadyAJ_13 / @ladyaj-13

[Louis/Nick Grimshaw, 6k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

The first time was an accident. The second time was an accident too.

Or: Louis and Nick end up shagging on the sly, everyone sends far too many emojis and far too few words, and eventually they're going to have to sort themselves out.

Trust Me Tonight by @vintageumbroshirt / 28sunflowers

[Louis/Harry, 10k, Explicit, tumblr post]

After Harry’s eighteenth birthday, his father calls him into a meeting to say that he is to be married to Prince Louis of France in just over a week.

Harry is excited, of course. The arrangement is better than any he could’ve hoped for, with such a young, handsome and kind husband.

There is just one issue: Harry doesn’t know what happens on his nuptials, or how to get pregnant to give Louis the heir that he needs.

Can we make it any more obvious? by LouStylesHTommo / @smolhilariousbeans

[Louis/Harry, 6k, Explicit, tumblr post]

Five times the boys accidentally walked in on Harry & Louis plus one time they did it on purpose.

Aka Niall, Zayn, Liam being supportive of Lou&H sexy shenanigans.

darling just dive right in by @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed / we_are_the_same

[Zayn/Louis, 5k, Teen and up, tumblr post]

Louis can’t think of a worse place to be than at the Malik estate, attending his ex boyfriend's wedding.

Shining just for you by ThoseFookin_Avacados / @hlhome28

[Harry/Louis, 1k, General, tumblr post]

For a clumsy person, Harry danced with quite the grace- spinning around Louis, billowy light robes brushing against his firm darker ones. Despite his slightly smaller build, Louis was decivingly strong, his grip on Harry's waist tight as they performed their steps in sync. Like two opposite halves of a whole, like ones reflection in the mirror, like the sun and the moon.

Part 2 of the Prompt Generator series

crown me with your heart (your love is king) by @perfectdagger

[Louis/Harry, 41k, General, tumblr post]

The universe must’ve had a field day when it decided to plan Harry’s life. There was no plausible explanation for anything that happened in his life anymore. Try as he may, he would never be able to control his life nor predict what would happen next. What were the odds that the one person he was sure he had fallen in love with but had completely let him slip out of his life, already resigned to the fact nothing could ever evolve between them due to Harry’s future with Eroda, happened to be the same person who had Harry’s future in his hand?

A The Princess Diaries 2: Royal Wedding au in which Harry is the Crown Prince of the small island of Eroda and Louis’ uncle is trying to take the throne from him, with a slight a/b/o twist and some more.